When I grow up, I want to be Tony Stark. Rich. Suave. Suit of armor. But alas, I’m not a comic book superhero. I’m a human masquerading as a quirky comic book supervillain. I have the wardrobe. I have the requisite genius. I have the backstory. As of a few days ago, I even have the car that I renamed: the Xanatos Gambit. The premise behind it is that all of my plans result in victory, no matter how circumstances may change. I can win. I know I can win. And that leaves me feeling unfulfilled.
The 2012 College Salsa Congress just passed, and I served my duty as my program’s ambassador. I heckled other schools, danced with a couple of expatriates, and generally provided a good time. I was the host. When both of my teams needed a pep talk before their performances, I gave it to them. And our teams did admirably. My congratulations extend to CSU Northridge’s Salsa Libre program for winning the competition, something I felt that should’ve been the third win of a dynasty. However, it happened, and I expressed my joy to our rivals. Some say it wasn’t classy; I say that losing with grace and sportsmanship are not bad concepts. Besides, if some people had been around long enough, they’d know that talent won out. My laments from the party was that I didn’t dance as many songs as I’d prefer with the girls I wanted to meet. Namely, those who weren’t Beach girls. My favorite part of the fiesta was that UCLA did their “8-Clap”, to which I heckled them with “Fire Neuheisel.” Yes, Skippy went to UCLA, but he was a Bruin in name only. YES! YES! YES!
Of course, this is another day in the life…that marks the last year that my right to bear arms is enjoined. In one year, Pippa’s restraining order ends. I point this out since Facebook’s very helpful Timeline feature, and I saw that she posted Christmas wishes three years ago. So bah, there was no blocking. A heart, quick smile, and someone posting a comment along celebratory lines at my temporary change in relationship status. Sigh. I do wonder if my personal life is my one tragic flaw that makes me a true hero. I’ve been taking my belts with me when I step out for the night and they’ve become a runaway hit. Ironically, people love the Rated R spinner belt, which is the one I wore when I met her. Yep, bittersweet approval.
Quick retrospective on the last year ahead of Sunday’s notoriety. Lost a bunch of weight, found shirts in medium, met a few girls, returned to my natural hair color, gained perspective on life. Still single; year’s a failure. Skibbedebebop. Much later.
Current Track – Pitbull “Pause”