#beard me

On my way home from a party tonight, there was a cop car one car behind me that turned on his lights and pulled over the car behind me. Granted, I was doing nothing wrong and was driving at least 10 MPH below the speed limit due to the outrageous amount of snow piling up on the ground, but at the moment of the the only thing I could honestly feel was lucky. I was lucky that I wasn't the guy in the car behind me. I was lucky that I was raised with enough judgement to not drink before a thirteen hour rehearsal if I was planning on driving myself home that night. I was lucky that I had parents that would throw my head on a pike if I ever did that; thus installing the fear of ever doing it. I'm lucky I have parents that support me every step of the way in anything I do, even after I make $200 dollar mistakes half a state away.

I'm lucky that I'm in a place where I have friends that love and care and support me in (almost) everything I do. I'm lucky I have a home that also has friends that love and care and support me in everything I do. I'm lucky I found a profession that is going to make me happy whenever I'm going to be able to find a job that lets me do that. I'm lucky I have the raw talent and potential to ensure that I will find those happy-making jobs someday.

I'm lucky I had a crush that drove me insane for four years of my life that would accidentally introduce me to the thing I want to do for the rest of my life. I'm lucky that I'm surrounded by people that are following the same dream, with many other dreams that we don't share. I'm lucky I have goals, and dreams, and a direction to lead my life in. I'm lucky there are people out there who want me to achieve those things.

I'm lucky that I can laugh at so many things, including my own consistent insane banter and actions (I'd be dead at this point, otherwise.). I'm lucky that I am always looking to love whatever and whoever I can. I'm lucky that I'm capable of feeling that. I'm lucky I'm capable of feeling a lot of things. I'm lucky that I eventually forgive anyone for anything. I'm lucky I'm not wasting my time doing things that are strictly not worth my energy. I'm lucky someone saw that I was wasting my time and energy with them, and knew they had to do something that I wouldn't have done anytime soon. I'm lucky that episode fostered some of the strongest friendships I could never imagine.

I'm lucky I can write. I'm lucky I can sing. I'm lucky I can act. I'm lucky I can learn. I'm lucky that I'm learning about who I am and enjoying the person that I am becoming, and I am lucky that other people like the person that I am becoming.

It kinda boggled my mind today when a gaming session with a friend went from Marvel vs. Capcom 3 and Halo: Reach to Star Wars Battlefront 2 today. Not because it was a bad game, but just because it just sunk in that Battlefront 2 is quite the old game now. 2005? That's like the age of the dinosaurs. I remember first booting up that title when I was 15 thinking that Star Wars games were never going to look any better. I was right. (OHHH, DOES IT BURN, FORCE UNLEASHED 2? WITH YOUR SHITTY BUTTON MASHING AND YOUR ENDING THAT MAKES NO SENSE WHEN YOU CONSIDER THAT THE NON-CANON DARK ENDING HAS A CHARACTER THAT WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE THE WHOLE TIME THAT BLERP DE BLERP NO ONE CARES ABOUT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT ANYMORE KBYE.)

You know what's scary? Someday, they're going to call BioShock a retro game. I don't know why I think of BioShock of all games, but that's the one that stands out in my head. There are a few years where there was some significant video game that came out and defined that year for me (Banjo-Kazooie in 1998, Sonic Adventure 2: Battle in 2002, and BioShock in 2007) and the fact that '07 is so far into the rear view mirror now is just... odd. Am I seriously turning 21 this year? That's queer. That's simply queer.

I'm growing a mustache for A Little Night Music (which opens a week from today. Get your tickets.). This isn't a decision of mine; it's something that's specifically pointed out in the script. So, prepare for some outrageous facial hair for the next week and a half. I haven't shaved in six days now; there's something resembling what you could call a beard all over my face, but it's so small still I'd go as far to just call it unruly stubble. Stubble with a rebel streak. Stubble that's not going to take it, no, they're not going to take it anymore.