An Oscar by 30: yearbook expectations set too high.  It was 1985, and I didn’t know anything about entertainment.  I didn’t even know how I was going to get my book reports in on time.

“Do what you love,” said my guidance counselor, Mrs. Green.  I couldn’t see how what I loved would get me to the Kodak; certainly not on my schedule.  Did I even know what I really loved?  Just the same, her eyes were sparkly and earnest.  I didn’t listen.  She died of cancer, having spent her life guiding kids like me: we were ignorant.  I hope she loved that job; it sure seemed like it.

Two decades searching dungeons for dragons and finally making the fearful flight to Hollywood, only to be greeted by the news that it would take another ten years.

39 came and went, leaving me with the familiar feeling of turning my work in late: how little we change.

Two years’ diet of Xanax and caffeine brought me to a wiser, vegetarian 41 and a half.  I’m only now starting to get comfortable with this…

moment…

now.

Oh, the time I wasted being who I was trying to be, and not being who I was.

Kids, don’t try this at home.

I weighed in at 204 this morning, which is almost “wedding weight.”  I’d like to shed another 9 lbs, and I think going veg is going to do it.  Not only is it making me leaner, but gone are indigestion, and hopefully some cholesterol points.  Plus, it just feels un-cruel, and that’s worth my weight in gold.

It’s just one of the many adventures I’m grateful for over the last 1,459 days.  Four years ago tonight, I logged into connexion.org and read the first message from Sam, and then we went to dinner.  This is where it all began.

It’s been an amazing four years.  I’ve never been more thankful for the life I have, and Sam’s place in it.  I love you, brah.