Tag Archives: Wellness

The Rosary. A story of Lust and Celibacy, Part Three

Authors Note:  Since we had SO much success with it last time, and it didn’t totally interrupt flow while writing whatsoever;  we’re going to not “cuss” in this post too. Funny thing, actually found a site with the “101 Best Alternatives to Curse Words”. Not mentioned, you got it, dawg gone. Whatever, trying something new. Speaking of something new…

Let’s Be Friends…

One of my many, many issues with the whole online dating experience is how it eliminates any organic nature to developing a relationship.  Now, are there people who I can see living forever, together in a life of eternal struggles and bliss who met via the online dating experience? Absolutely.

We hate those people and they are only detectable by Rowdy Roddy Piper (RIP Hotrod!) wearing Ray Bans.  

However, it more than likely is a “me” thing.  (If I may, I’m willing to bet all the money in my 401k vs. all the money in your Roth IRA that if we were to hop on, let us say Match.com right now; I would recognize a solid dozen ladies who are “online now”. Because they are ALWAYS online now.  So, this “me” thing, it’s a “we” thing. Thanks for playing.)

And I’m done with it.

And if, for some reason, it is a “me” thing, then I’m going to own it the Stove Top Stuffing out of it!

Why?

Because, well, you know who I’m going to have dinner with, go for hikes with, talk about my day with , and dagnabbit, have sex with?

Spac Profile Pic

And it’s what needed to be done.

How so?

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, and I know, some of you are…well…

But, you may have noticed I enjoy writing. How much so will be revealed in the days to come.  (TEASE)

Blogging for me is an exercise. Practice if you will.  This is something to hopefully entertain a few of you while serving a purpose greater than I care to explain.  (Let me explain: writing is me uninterrupted. And if you know me, you know I don’t shut the Fraggle Rock up! So…) And I also use blogging to help strengthen my lack of grammatical skills. (Or reinforce my obvious (bad) habits.).

Screenwriting, whole different species to me. Hell, it has it’s own Kingdom Classification of torturia. And it, without question, is the single most amazing experience I have ever had.  I view sitting in a theater, watching a show, or watching a movie as an emotional investment of time.  For two hours, I give my emotions over to the storytellers (primarily writer, director, editor) and say “inspire me!”

And the first moment “Action!” was called, with a guy standing on a stool way to unsafe to sit on, while holding a boom mike hoping to not be in the shot. The first moment a gal to the side is making sure the light casts shadows in a somber, yet delicious tone. The first time a person with an eye that I will never possess focused through a viewfinder capturing the actors walking out in front of us reciting words you wrote…

…We’ve established my addictions, well…I never put myself in a position to put a needle in my arm, however…If I could, I would inject this feeling in between my toes!

I’d rather work for it…

How so?

I’ve recently hired a Screenwriting Coach, Lee Jessup (http://leejessup.com), and she’s been fantastic.  She’s also put me into contact with Andrew Hilton (http://www.screenplaymechanic.com).  Andrew is friggen awesome!  We had a discussion (email) recently where I flat out said,

“I’m not looking for a pat on the ass and an “atta boy”.  I want you to tell me I suck and why I suck!”

He does and it’s outstanding.

So, I set up a “deadline” with him for “Notes”. (Goes through, reads the script, thoroughly tells you what works, what doesn’t, and gives you a grade.)

I Scheduled one for the end of January shortly after the “pfft date”.  Now that I consciously made my decision to combat my addiction to online dating, I desperately needed to get into a routine.  (My routine consists of waking up at 4am (foreshadowing and yes, I just parenthesized within a parenthesis) because my mind first thing in the morning is like a jackrabbit with ADHD and a cocaine addiction. So, I go with it. I read for about 30-45 minutes.  After stalking all of you on Facebook and Instagram. Then, I write. I do this until my 120 pages or so are done.) Once my draft is complete, and these are typically rewrites by the way.  (One script is about 5 to 6 rewrites and the other is the 3rd)  I’ll usually do a quick read through, tell myself I’ll do another but by that point my brain is exhausted and so sick of those characters.  Email it off to Andrew  awaiting the response of “Oh my God man, this is it! Bravo!” And instead “It’s made some strides forward, but many horizontally”.

And yes I pay for this.  And yes, I love it.  (Not gonna lie, at first, kinda stings.) But no one said it was going to be easy.

In the middle of this most recent time though…My phone was blinking.

Have you ever had a Facebook friend request, then didn’t?  Because the person who sent it smartened up  and canceled it? Well, this happened to a girl I “dated” for a month and I was a complete ass (donkey) too.   She was sweet, kind, and just so happened to be the girl I was with during the “rabid cat” attack.  Which was followed by the overly emotional writing of a script that eventually became my student film.  Have I told you about “Good Grief”?

 

Needless to say, I was a little dramatic at the time.

Anyway, she was the ghost of okcupid past, and was gracing me with the chance to be kind. Plus, I owed her a much deserved apology. (When you stop being a waste of a body and mind due to drinking and drugs, you have a lot of amends to make and even more actions to make amends for. So, you become pretty good at it.  By the way, if I haven’t for some of you reading; give me a bit.) She wasn’t seeking that, she just wanted to say hi.  I’m glad she did.

We reconnected due to her heart absorbing a torpedo to the side of its hull. From the man she met after me. She was wounded, severely wounded.

Now, she’s a beautiful, sexy gal, and here is an opportunity for me to take full advantage of her freshly wounded organ and be my typical, overly flattering, charismatic, charming, con artist self.   So, of course, I said:

” You know, we were never friends. And right now, you need a friend.”

What the Fraggle Rock was that?

Have you ever had a panic attack? They’re awful.  A year after going sober, my days were full of them. It was awesome.

For those who have never had the pleasure…

You’re thinking, typically, you’re thinking about how much life sucks.  You’re sweating.  Especially your palms. (I have this thing about my palms sweating.  As a kid I used to get worried about them getting sweaty right before “Peace Be With You” at church.  No kidding. Which of course did what? Made them sweaty) You notice the impossible to not notice sweaty palms. They always sweat. “Am I freak” races through your infant like sense of self.  You have flashbacks to Ash Wednesday your 7th grade year at Christ the King. Your heart races. You notice.  It’s hard not to.  You’re having flashbacks of cocaine with a girl you met named Penny at the bar Jilly’s with a homemade tattoo of a crucifix on her middle finger.  You think you’re having a heart attack.  You’re convinced you’re having a heart attack. Which of course causes you to…

Panic. Which cause your hear to race, which cause you to…

Such a fickle little cycle isn’t it?

However, during said mental meltdown, you find yourself desensitized.  Outside of your body.

For my hallucinogenic taking friends, it’s about the 2-hour mark in a mushroom trip or hour 3 to 4 in a clean LSD experience. At this time, your dilated pupils are looking down the barrel of whether this is going to be a friggin blast, or I’m going to piss myself and curl up into a ball for the next, well, forever…

I’m not saying I was there (desensitized)  when I said that to her. But it was so, well, odd and…

And then I heard her crying.

Two things came from this moment:

  1. We became friends.  We don’t chat often, but when we do, it’s a conversation between two people that, well, are treating people like people.  Funny (funny meaning scary) how you lose this  concept while by consumed by the “lifestyle” of emotional online gambling. Matter of fact, I recently reconnected with another ghost of okcupid (I wish North Korea would bomb THAT site) and she’s, she too was and is one of those people  you thank God you were graced in meeting.  I’m not good enough for her…   And…
  2. Holy crap, it’s that easy? Say you want to be friends! That’s it? Because as we know…

 

Right now, it was hour 2 or hour 3-4 depending, and I needed to choose: A euphoric good time, or defecating myself from this eternal hell. Do I use this newfound intel for good…or for…

Then my phone chimed…

Actually…being…friends…?

This young lady and I started chatting months earlier.  I was in the middle of a “hitting streak.”   (You have a good amount of dates lined up.  Typically, when you do have this sort of “feast”, you usually walk away with a lighter bank account and a bottle of Aveeno lotion and “first-time lesbian experience” in your Google search bar. Why? Man is incapable of handling that many options.) We had a dinner planned for a Saturday night but, a few days  before she called…

“Can you be my date for this event tonight?”

This was literally minutes, like 90 before said event and it was an hour plus drive (foreshadowing) from me to her.  Plus, I just walked into my place after a workday. Plus, it was a formal event.  Plus, it was  for the “Ladies of Law” in Capital City (Albany).

So, to summarize: First date. First date that’s an hour away where I have to pull out my wrinkled Kenneth Cole suit. First date that’s an hour away where I have to pull out my wrinkled Kenneth Cole suit where there will possibly be people in tuxedos.  First date that’s an hour away where I have to pull out my wrinkled Kenneth Cole suit where there will  possibly be people in tuxedos at a ball for the “Ladies of Law”.  First date that’s an hour away where I have to pull out my wrinkled Kenneth Cole suit where there will possibly be people in tuxedos at a ball for the “Ladies of Law” and you are this Fudge Nugget:

Spac Profile Pic

“Ya, I’m good.”

A couple days later, she cancelled our date. Turns out Plan B said yes, and she, much respect, wanted to give him a “fair shot”.

Good for her!

3 months later…My phone chimes.

“Hey Keith, Happy New Year.”

Texts are exchanged, the texts turn into a phone call and she reveals the whole story about the guy who went to the event with her.  Cool. I really don’t care, but you know…I have to let them talk at some point.  (If you’ve ever been on the phone with me, you get this. Have I mentioned that I don’t shut up?) 

I inform her how I’m in the middle of a screenplay called “Gone Guy”. It’s the story of a man that goes missing when he take it upon himself to reveal online dating is actually a middle class prostitution ring………….(Okay, it’s not. The screenplay.  Online dating IS prostitution.) I also inform her that…

“Im done having my soul sucked out on a regular basis.  Meaning I’m done with dating.”

Which works because she just got out of the 3 month story with Plan B.

Then I drop…

“But, if you’re looking for a friend, I’d love to be your friend”.

“I would love that.”

catching the fish.gif

Now, did I consciously say that knowing that I would love to see her naked?

I don’t know.  But, did I consciously capitalize Fudge Nugget earlier when referring  to myself?

 

Then she asks…

“Do you want to come over and watch a movie?”

Yeah, she didn’t ask this immediately after the whole friend thing.  It was a week later.  My writing had intensified. I was a week from “deadline”, and I was beginning to get a little punchy.

“You know what? Ya, ya I do.”

Then I made the hour trek  to Albany.

Needless to say, I liked what I saw.

Needless to say, she liked what she saw.

Needless to say, we didn’t finish the movie…

Then in the middle of post-coital spooning I created my “out”.

Yes, this is how my mercurial mind works.

This is how it all played out, in my mind of course: (Favorite quote: “I’ve seen a lot of trouble in my life, and only a fraction of it actually happened”.-Mark Twain)

It doesn’t work between us.

Why?

Because I’m a chicken-poop that despises change. You know, totally unlike society who easily embraces change……………

She tells me that change is good.

I get annoyed.

She compromises.

I despise her more for caving so quickly.  I find my moment, and execute my escape plan.

“Well, hey, I said I ONLY wanted to be friends.”

Her appropriate response:

“Oh ya, I forgot that moment where I had a gun to turn your head while it was between my thighs.”

Then she kills me in a moment of passion, pleads insanity, and enters into evidence my blogs as proof to my torturous behaviors. She gets 100 hours community service calling bingo at the local old folks home and my brother gets my baseball card collection.

All that aside, what do we crave after sex? No, not food.  Even though I was hungry as all hell. I think I was, yeah, I was in the middle of this “cleanse/reset” I do once a year.

So, my late night reward when I got home was Vegetable Miso Soup and lentils.

charlie-sheen-winning

Sex.  The answer to what you want after having sex is more sex.  At least that’s how my addictive personality thinks.  For you see, I’m the guy eating dinner thinking about dessert. I was the guy doing the line of cocaine thinking about the next line of cocaine.  I was the guy having the drink thinking about the next drink.  And I’m the guy in the middle of…You see where I’m going with this.

I have this thing about being “present” that I’m dealing with.  I don’t know what that means, but I just know I’ve been told I have an issue with it.

Needless to say, the person that told me to be present is no longer present in my life.

So, the next day, all her and I did was discuss how we were going to do this again, what we were going to do to each other, and how soon we were going to do it.

Because that’s what friends do.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to finish the next 60 pages or so of my script which is due in a week. No pressure.  However, I just added quite the distraction to the equation.

The next day, we made plans for her to come to my place (Not a fan of that crap so soon, however, SEXY TIME!).  I did tell her though,  I needed to get some work done while she was at my place. Pleasant surprise, she reciprocated that sentiment.

She was in the middle of something, I don’t know. So, she was going to bring her computer. (foreshadowing)

She came over, checked out my place for about 10 minutes, noticed and appreciated this little, well, shrine to those I love where I have a blessed rosary from the Church I attend.

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“I like your rosary.” (foreshadowing)

Needless to say,  we got very little work done.

However, we did have about a 45 minute window where we did.

Important.

Why?

Because she left her GOSH DARN battery at my place and she lives over an hour away.

Now, I’m a man of ritual and habit. We all are.  Especially as we progress in age.  We wake up and do the exact same thing, day, after day, after day, after day.

 

And she was fudging it all up!

Well…

Little did I know I wasn’t the only “mercurial minded” one in this “friendship”.

Little did I know that “being friends” was worse than, well, not being friends.

And little did I know that Jesus was going to be hanging from my door waiting for me…

20180315_072054.jpg

-k

 

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The Rosary. A Story of Lust and Celibacy, Part Due. (In Italian two is “due”. Not due, like “your bill is due”. Due, like a Candadian asking if you’re drinking a Mountain Dew. “Dew, Eh?” Due, two, Italian, learning to speak it.)

Authors Note: In an attempt to display some “range” with my writing, I’ve decided to not swear in this post.  See if you can tell where I would have used vulgarity. With that I give you:

Part Two: 

The second week of February of this year I celebrated 13 years of being clean of booze and blow.

The second week of February of this year  I celebrated 10 years of being cigarette free.

As of today, it’s officially been 3 months,  OR 12 weeks, OR 84, actually 87 days since my last online date.

Why?

I quit the drinking and blow because, after a while, you get a little tired and annoyed with pissing the bed on a regular basis. And those aren’t cheap “habits”. Couple that with continuously buying plastic sheets from Walmart, even at their low, low price of $18.97; it adds up quick.

I quit smoking because the cigarettes were causing my forefinger fingernail on my right hand to become soft and yellown or brellow (You guessed it, brown and yellow officially did it, they hooked up and the child was the aforementioned forefinger fingernail).  I’ve always enjoyed the fact I’ve possessed naturally calm cuticles. So, to ruin it with a soft, yellown or brellow fingernail would have been putting a Picasso in a frame from Walmart at the low, low, price of $37.87.

And I quit online dating because well…

The Last Surviving Site…

You ever see an ad for a site, any site, and you click on, they ask you to enter your email and the next thing you know:

“Sorry, this email already exists”.

What? When? How?

Then you remember on a Friday night, you thought the prospect of sugar-free, dairy free, gluten free, taste free, high protein, sour gummy candy was, the greatest thing since Mr. Skin.com. Then you came to your senses and realized $9.95 for 6oz. and $4.95 shipping was a little ridiculous for something that would last two handfuls worth of time.

Well, lets just say, the email thing would happen on the following:

Match.com

Plenty of Fish.com

Ok Cupid.com

Tinder

EHarmony.com

Coffee Meets Bagel (saw this one on Shark Tank)

Hot or Not.com

Zoosk.com

Fitness-singles.com,

And the piece de resistance, wait for it…

Catholic Match.com.

(No, no Farmers Only and yes, I did check out Christian Mingle until my mouth tasted like burning.) 

However, when I got back from “Date with Destiny”, (Foreshadowing) I was dating someone. Which meant my profiles were either hidden or deleted.  You actually can wash away your existence on these sites…So they say…Unfortunately, when I got back from said event, the dating someone was something…

You know, I may delve deeper into the “why” I broke things off with her someday, just not today…

Yet, there was a lone survivor…One forgotten about… Or was it?……..

Meetmindful kept popping up on my Facebook page news feed.  Meetmindful presented itself as a dating site with a “conscience”.

Aww, those poor developers had no idea what this world consists of. It was only a matter of time before a spoiled blueberry deep within the pint turned it into one fuzzy glob of penicillin. (I’m allergic to penicillin…which sucks because every time I have to list an allergy, I struggle with penicillin. Not the allergy itself, but the spelling.  The only reason I have it spelled correctly here is, you guessed it, red underscores. Thanks, Bill Gates!)

And who is that furry blueberry of death you ask? (You didn’t ask)

Spac Profile Pic

…Let’s go find some “Irie Sisters.” (hippie speak)

I’m not going to go into some long, historical diatribe about “Hippie Keith”, instead, well…

Hippie Keith

Look at those dawg gone eyebrows!

Point being, in the deep recesses of my mind I possess the vernacular needed to walk down  “Shakedown Street” and score some heady nugs.

It’s right next to those 5 years of French.  Je suis un ananas! Ananas

Well, shortly after returning from Tony Robbins (I hate “I told you so people”, and to read about My Date with Destiny… 

I get messaged by an exquisitely beautiful young lady, who, wait for it, LIVES NEAR ME!  (It’s insane how many people you meet on these sites that don’t live ANYWHERE near you! Insane I tell you!)

And we hit it off…Why? Because she mentions Tony Robbins in her profile.  In many cases, especially in moments of desperation- let’s face it, when you’re on a dating site, you’re pretty dawg gone desperate-you grasp at any straw available. (Did I use the dash  appropriately? I have no dawg gone clue.)

But, when you return from a week of, well, read the blog, and the first girl you meet, unintentionally by the way, just so happens to mention a man you spent more time with than, well, your father…Thoughts of serendipity start swimming like salmon to Capistrano through your hippie speaking/French speaking/self-help motivated mind.

This is where I may creep all of you out a bit (or a bit more)…

So, to communicate with people on MeetMindful (I should mention the questions they  ask and then post your answers on your profile consists of things like: “What gets you present? What are you passionate about? What imperfections are you embracing?… Ya, you get the point…) you are given a few day window to go on a mass assault on all the hopeful, innocent hearts within a 50-mile radius of 12803. When those days expire, way too fast I might add, you have to pay to read and send emails. Here is where it gets creepy (as if), I refuse to pay. I mean, the monthly cost is the equivalent of two sets of plastic sheets at Walmart!

HOWEVER, they (profiles) provide enough information to be, well, a dawg gone stalker!  All you need is a name (provided), their city (provided), and a picture or two; you can pretty easily find them on Facebook. Just as long as you study their pics well enough to either find it’s match or a similar one. (If I studied this hard in high school I’d be a dawg gone Astrophysicist).

When you do, and I always do,  you send an Instant Message like,

“Hey, so this is Keith, from… Ya, is this cool or is this beyond creepy?”

It usually works… it always works… they get it.  However, none of the relationships (foreshadowing) work, so, there’s that.  But how dawg gone creepy, right?

Anywho…

Instant messages turned into “friend requests”, friend requests turned into texts, texts turned into phone calls, which turned into texts the moment our phone calls were over, which turned into staring at your phone hoping it would ring, which turned into picking up your phone making sure it was working, which turned into restarting your phone because it needed a restart anyway and SURELY she’s texted me, which turned into me sending the “Hey” text with the blushing smile face emoti, which turned into…

DAWG GONE IT WHY HASN’T SHE SENT ME A DAWG GONE TEXT?

Then she does letting you know she was busy, sorry and is thinking about you…Because, you know, we haven’t met yet so the fantasy of “happy ever after” is being played like a GIF in both of our minds.

She says things you’ve been waiting to hear come from a sweet sounding voice, and you say things which floor her because you’ve been on so many dawg gone dates that you’ve gotten pretty dawg gone good at this. But, they’re true.  They’re how you truly feel and think.  So, what do you do?

“You should really read my blog.”

Good idea, right?

Here is my thought process when inviting a potential partner to read about a few of her, well, predecessors…

  1. You more than likely will read something if we hit it off, might as well be now.
  2. You more than likely will Google my name, and you may stumble across, well…This:

fat woman with tattoos

3. You more than likely will suck, so don’t suck so bad that I end up writing                                about you. You’ve been warned. And lastly,

4. I’m an over-flattering schmuck and all those compliments (You’re                                               breathtaking, you’re exquisite, you’re gorgeous…) Yeah, I use those A LOT,                               by all means, don’t feel special and/or unique. But I’m also a writer that desperately needs validation!

Well, I’ll let you figure you out (No, I won’t) which one of these “set her off”. (#4)

Needless to say, I got this text:

“So, I did some reading last night and I don’t know how I feel about you, lol”

LOL? LOL? What in the name of dawg gone heck are you dawg gone LOLing about you stupid dawg gone dawg goner?!? (I’m currently suffering from vulgarity withdrawal)

Needless to say, I called her. Pretty sure I cried, I’m fairly certain I cried, ya, I cried.  I’m good like that.  In between tears I rattled off the usual suspects:

“You’re different!”

“You’re so special!”

“I’ve never connected like this!”

“What did you think of the writing?”

Authors note: Okay, lets get something clear, I’m painting myself into this corner of  being this God-Awful soul.  I’m not. I’m just, well, honest.  So, you know, deal with it and get off your sanctimonious, pretentious cloud and realize this: It’s a scary, dark world, dating.  And sometimes, well folks, sometimes,  a man does what a man has to do to survive in this cruel, superficial world…  

Needless to say, date on!

Date Night!

I really hate paying for sushi. Especially for online dates. Why? I’ve got a great hook-up, and from time to time, I’m notorious for bringng the “uninspired” dates (skeptical at best) to said hook-up. However, she found this place in Malta, and we decided to go there. And yes, I bought flowers.  (I did that crap early on, and I learned a valuable lesson; don’t do that. However, the whole blog thing threw me off, so, here I am, flowers in tow.)

She pulled up next to me in the parking lot and, DAMN! Total smoke show.  Beautiful from head to toe to ass.  And what an ass!

I gave her the flowers, and she kissed me! This was going to be the perfect night. The LAST first date, right?

The sushi sucked. It was globs of rice, fake crab, and a ton of that orange…stuff which looks like the dawg gone “secret sauce” they put on Big Mac’s.

But, damn…she was fine, and the way she looked at me…

Oh and the ambiance, it was slightly above those Chinese “restaurants” with one table, two chairs, flypaper strips in between Chinese lanterns, and for some reason a ton of maps of the city.

So, you know, romanticism was at it’s apex.  Then this happened…

8:45ish…

“Anything else?” The young lady asks while putting down our check.  What if I said yes? What if I wanted some fried, green tea ice cream?  Maybe tonight of all nights I craved something that could simultaneously speed up and slow down my metabolism. (I didn’t, I just wanted to get dinner over with for some sushi breath sexy time.)

“No, thank you.” I innocently answered while we still had two mountains of, well it looks like the sushi chef was drunk, got home and made this for himself.

Munchies 420

At 8:50ish, another, different waitress comes over and starts to take our plates, FULL OF FOOD, away!

“Umm, we’re not done.” My beauty responds while forking in a massive glob of sushi.

“Pfft.”

Now, allow me to recreate the scene for you.

date night

I’m on the right, she’s on the left. The waitress comes from behind me to the table.  So, as she walked away, and I heard “pfft”, I wouldn’t have been crazy to think she, well, tooted… I mean seriously, what the hell is “pfft’?

She didn’t fart…

“Did you hear that?” My wide-eyed damsel asked with escalating insanity.

“Yeah…”I responded while trying to not come across as a coward. I mean…Who “pfft’s”?

“Um, excuse me, but we are going to finish OUR food, which WE (Keith) paid for!” She fired with a harsh, instigating tone and forks another mouthful of…I don’t think it’s sushi anymore.

“We’re closing!” The “pffter” slashed back.

“When?” My lady parry’s.

“9:30!”… “Pffter” is pissed! However…

“And what time is it now?” It was 8:5something, but it sure as sugar wasn’t even 9.

A second of silence (it was a glorious second too).

“Sorry, what time?  Excuse me, what time is it now? Ya, I thought so!” 1984 Mike Tyson had nothing on her…And ya, she’s ferocious, however, the tone in her voice not only changed, it developed an accent.  (foreshadowing, and no, it wasn’t high pitched like the aforementioned 1984 boxer.) 

You know what question I hate being asked by anyone I meet online? (Insert 93 jokes here.) 

“How long have you been online dating?”

The truth, I’ve been on and off for over 10 years…10 YEARS!  Again, off and on…There was this 5 year window where I didn’t have any online dating activity.  You know, because I was, well, married.  Little did I know that I was the only one in that relationship who took a break from the world wide interweb!

Have I told you about my student film “Good Grief”?

Anyway, I say that to say this, I’ve been on a dawg gone ton of dates. And this, a legitimate cat fight at a Sushi restaurant…Didn’t see that coming.

My response?

“Come on, lets go.”

Sexy time, sexy time, sexy time…Seriously, my heart was thumping like a pair of sneakers in the dryer. This was the best foreplay ever! (not really, but still pretty awesome) Very one sided, but still something so very erotic about it.  (The soft core porn writer in me was envisioning them somehow crossing paths later on and then…well…)

“Ya, lets…”  She acquiesced while firing daggers with her eyes towards the Waitress from Hell!

We walked out hand in hand to my car…I left a small tip…But I did tip.

My Car

I lease a 2016 Honda Accord Coupe.  Nice, sleek, sporty, and from time to time it can be like a fat kid in skinny jeans, a little tight.  Tonight was one of those nights.  For you see, we were going to let her car warm up while we “talked” and then made our way to a bar to “chat”.

We didn’t make it there it to the bar.

We spent the rest of the night, well, seeing how much two people could maneuver in a 2016 Honda Accord Coupe. Yet, somewhere in the middle of all of this, in the middle of her telling me how she thinks I’m “the one” and the guy she’s been waiting and “praying for”.

“I’ve got to tell you, I’m dating someone… And…Ya,  I have another date tomorrow.”

So, let me get this dawg gone straight, only 5 dawg gone hours ago, I was in dawg gone “tears” because you read my dawg gone blog and thought I was a dawg gone player. But NOW, you’re telling me that you not only have a dawg gone boyfriend, but you’re “technically” cheating on him and have plans on doing it again tomorrow, AFTER you dawg gone told me I was the dawg gone one you’ve been “praying for”?

And do you think I mentioned this?

Her response:

“I’m living my life, how I want to live my life, and I’m sorry, no, no I’m not sorry, I’m going to be me and this, this is me.”

Yeah, I had no dawg gone clue what that meant.  All I did know was that tone with the accent was back.  And it scared the ever-living poo out of me.

I’m done! I’m done! I’m so dawg gone done!

But not until we fooled around for another solid couple hours (it was brutally cold that night. Remember that stretch where it was like -17 every damn night? Well, it was in the middle of that.  We turned my car on and off like 23 times.  It was a perfect metaphor for the inhabitants of said car on this evening.).

Anyway, we parted ways.  Two days later we decided it wasn’t going to work.

And I also decided my online dating movie was…well, “Fin”.

Then, well, I got this text from someone I hadn’t heard from in some time, and it read:

“Hey Keith, Happy New Year!”

-k

Authors Note: Totally have my MeetMindful page still up. Because, well…

I AM PENICILLIN!

Spac Profile Pic 

 

When did Mass get militant?

I go to Church.  Yes, every Sunday.  I pray, I sit, I stand, I kneel, I shake hands, I sing, I even receive communion if you can believe that.  Why?

Because I am God.

On occasion, I will see some of my “Ultra-liberal” friends-Being a retired Phish follower, you tend to have a few of those-Post on Facebook a link to either a video or an article, sometimes a very unoriginal meme slamming religion.  And that’s okay.

For you see, from what I gathered over my 13 years in the Catholic School system, is that God loves us all,  God is within all of us because we are the children of God, which means I should love everyone because they are God,  which equals I am God.

I just went all six degrees of Kevin Bacon and shit on you.  Didn’t know what the fuck to do, did ya?

Faith is a muscle that we need to use or it will develop atrophy.  I don’t believe that simply because I have a faith.  I do get how one may come to that conclusion.  I believe it though because I bared witness to it.

Effort is not lacking by this little guy in South Glens Falls.  It’s not hubris, it’s just fact.  I bust my ass when focused on the things that I covet, desire, or flat out want.  What I lack is a faith.  Faith in those that surround me will not be detrimental to my process.  Faith that I won’t have a moment of sabotage, or paranoia that a letter will come in the mail that will cripple me financially.  Faith in myself and the resilience I possess, the resourcefulness that I take for granted, these will not permit me to completely fail.

I just didn’t have faith.

So, what did I do?  I figured that if I could have a Faith in God, than I could easily have a Faith in myself, right?  I mean, I can look into the mirror and see me.  If I pray that I possess the ability to do something, I say, “Self, let’s do something.”  As opposed to praying to something that I have a greater hope for, than maybe anything, that this deity exists.

And trust me, my faith, doesn’t even scratch the service of those that hope for that more than their next breath.  My source, an 89-year-old, Sicilian/Italian, Roman-Catholic Grandmother.

Imagine if we put that amount of hope, prayer, and emotional trust in ourselves, what we could accomplish? Achieve?  Fulfill?

Think about that. Instead, we blame others, our parents, our past which equals our future, we even blame ourselves.  Yet, we pray to God, that God make it better, as opposed to us praying to ourselves that WE make this better.

Yet today during the Homily at Mass, it felt hostile.  Making reference to prayer being taken out of public schools.  Having a more sensitive society out of fear of offending.  We’re allowing an emotion to dictate what we say.  That is why we are so afraid today more than ever, when we really don’t have that much to be afraid of.  Yet, we’re told that we should be and we believe it.

My fear is debt.  There 100’s of millions afraid where they can find their next meal or clean drinking water, and I’m worried about having debt into my 50’s.  Think about what you’re afraid of, and ask; Can I change that?  What do I have to do to change that?  Why is it easier for me to be afraid than taking the necessary actions to change it?

“Easy for you to say Keith, you don’t have children and I have to worry about their lives.”

I’m not saying don’t worry about them, but have trust, have faith, that you will provide them everything they will ever need to be prepared to have a love filled, fulfilling life!

They learn it from you.  You might as well start believing it.  And don’t compare it to the way you were raised.  You are your own person!  Knock that shit off.  Thank the parent for what you are!  And be thankful for what you aren’t! Give that gift to your child. Not to mention, you live in Vermont, or wherever you live, I don’t think you’re any imminent danger.

We’re smarter as a society, we just got scared.  Maybe if we invested more into having a faith, maybe, just maybe we wouldn’t be so afraid to put ourselves out there and make an everlasting change.

Have faith in God, because you are God.

Not A god.  Let’s get that perfectly clear.  You’re not David Koresh

 

Make Your Move and Shake Your Ass: My Four Days with Tony. Tomorrow.

“I am not a product of my circumstances,  I am a product of my decisions”

-Stephen Covey

I hopefully will never know the feeling of being incarcerated for any extended length of time and then being “freed” into the masses.  Even though, there has been the occasion where I thought:

“You know, other than avoiding rape and get shanked; You get fed, workout, read, sleep.  No bills to stress over, no relationships to deal with. Well, unless of course, you’re somebodies bitch.  And let’s just call it like it is; I’m 5’6, 155lbs, and white.  I don’t know if they like lean little guys, but if so,  I’m a high draft pick.”

Point being, when you leave this world of nothing but positive, high octane, on Crack energy that you’ve come to absolutely adore and call home for the past four days and nights;  You’re not only coming back into the masses that is the hypersensitive year 2016 but, the masses that is still are wondering what the fuck?

trump

But you’re doing it with that chest bowed out like you have the tits of Sofia Vergara.

sofia-vergara-breast-implants

The President-Elect would say they are great because they’re the best.

Have you seen House of Cards?  There was this scene where Frank and his wife and their…If you’ve seen the show, you know where I’m going.  It was instantly followed by a hot and sexy as hell scene on the opposite end of the spectrum. Seeing the images of these two about felt like that.

 

Speaking of complete opposites, that is what it’s like to leave jail as compared to Tony Robbins, nonetheless, your apprehensions are possibly very similar.

How do you behave?

Should I talk all about it? Because God knows it’s all I want to do.

Do I book my next one?  I don’t want this feeling to go away and if I have another to look forward to, it will keep me positive knowing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

Do I go full force after what I want?  Break out of my restrictions? Break out of my comfort zone and truly just say “fuck it”, let’s do this?

Fascinated by the mind of the entrepreneur.  The person that believes they are their own boss. Also making them ultimately responsible for whether they succeed or fail.  No one else.

That’s courage.

Many only give credit, and justifiably so, to those that put their lives on the line, literally, whether in the Military or Emergency Services.  However, the entrepreneur takes an economic gamble that could leave them on food stamps. But, it also creates the opportunity to provide them, and their family,  with fortunes beyond their beliefs.     Sounds like the lottery, ya?  You can’t win if you don’t play, right?  But here is the one thing that they can do that someone that plays the lottery can’t do:

Work harder, work smarter.  When you leave, are you motivated? Yes.  Are you inspired? Yes.  But, going to one of these things is like being exceptional at practice.  You could be a stud Mon-Fri.  But when it’s game day, if you shrink in the moment, well, what good are you.  Same to be said here.  I could have made peace with aspects of my past, created a plan for my future, and learned how to take action in my present to make it all a possibility. But if I went back to my old habits as soon as landed in NY?  I essentially went to a four-day music festival.

When you leave, you’re leaving an atmosphere that is totally devoted for those attending to not only be entertained but, changed!  Think about that.  Those in attendance, some paying thousands to do so.  Some flying 18 hours like a man I met from Amsterdam.  Some flying cross country and living off protein bars and salt and vinegar almonds.  What they all wanted to do was have the knowledge, the tools, and the courage to make a drastic change in their life.  All of us think that something is missing, that we are kind of looking for our purpose, our mission in life. But it’s this:

Is Curly waiting for you in the form of Tony Robbins to tell you just that?  In a way.  Since I don’t feel like bringing a herd of cattle to their slaughter to try to discover my true purpose; This has to do.  Essentially, what you find out is that you just have to let go.

Let go of a past that does not pre-determine your future.  Just because it’s your past doesn’t mean it’s your destiny.  Let go of the future that may or may not happen.  It’s life, ONE THING can happen in a heartbeat and it all will change forever.  It could be for the good, the great, or the catastrophic, but it doesn’t mean you have you live life that way.  It means you GET to live life that way.

The world is filled with  stories of cancer patients that wish they knew this was going to happen to them decades ago. Why?  The time they truly lived life, was when they found out they were going to die.

Remember that list of 7 areas of life? Physical Body, Finances, Career/work, Contribution, etc.  (I write etc. because I can’t remember the last two and am too lazy and too focused to get up and look)  When you leave UPW, you MUST figure out a way to go after the one you want the most.  For me, and even if you’re my colleague or client, you won’t be shocked when you read this, it’s my career.

So, did I take action when I got back? Essentially,  does Tony Robbins work?

In chronological order. 1) Set up an appointment to get my student film, oh look, here it is again!

 

Anyway, like I was saying, I had to get it prepared to be submitted to film festivals.  A process that took a lot more time and effort one would think, but a major step.

Second, I needed a coach.  We saw earlier how remarkably expensive the Robbins Research life coaches were.  Truthfully, I didn’t think I needed one.  What I wanted was someone in the profession of screenwriting.  My mother came through clutch on this.  She bought me the Screenwriters Bible by Dave Trottier for my most recent birthday. A moment that brought me to tears.  How this simple gesture showed that my mother believed in her son and his dream.  So, who did I contact to be my writing coach? Dave Trottier.  Had our session and it was spectacular.  Keep your eyes peeled for when I get nominated for an Oscar.

My mother obviously had to be thanked for that, right?

WRONG

She needed to be thanked for much more than that.  She needed to be thanked for all the sacrifices, all the chances she took, and everything she did, to the best of her knowledge, abilities. I put that woman through hell and back and though she hated me at moments, and I hated her, she never stopped loving me with every ounce of being. And I love that woman more than any woman on Earth.

And I also  had to thank my dad.

This phone call was slightly tougher.  It required the moment of:

Do your move: “YES!”

Say yes: “YES!

Say yes: “YES!!!”

And then I called.  I honestly don’t know if I did that before, but when we were done, I definitely wiped my feet and celebrated!

That call belongs to us.

The last thing I did, I wrote a six-part blog about the most personal thing I’ve ever been through.  I would have never done this prior to the event, and I thank you with all of my overjoyed heart for reading this!

I made the decision that I MUST do it, and then gained LEVERAGE by posting that I was going to write six of these.  It got a little tiresome, a little too deep, but at the time, it was all about the will to allow myself to be scrutinized.  Many don’t know that is probably the writers number one fear.  That people won’t like it.  You know what I think of that:

FUCK YOU!

Let’s see you fly cross country, get no sleep, walk on coals, have your tongue, stomach, and ass decimated by protein bars and almonds  Hug and massage Lou, cry like your a kid and someone just broke your Optimus Prime, dance to Hits Volume 112, talk to complete strangers about why dad didn’t love you enough, listen to people tell you why their dad didn’t love them enough, clap until your hands were bruised, worry about falling down a flight of concrete steps in front of thousands, lose your voice four days in a row that made you sound like a transvestite doing an impersonation of Demi Moore,  and then deal with Uber!  Then when you get back, you share all of this while annoying God knows how many on social media with your “look at me, look at me” posts.

And you know what?

If you walked through my door right now with a ticket to Unleash the Power Within North Korea, a plane ticket sitting bitch the entire way, a bag full of salt and vinegar almonds and said we have to leave right now  with only the clothes on your back.  I’d say:

I’ll drive!

 

Thank you all!

PS: I’ve also signed up with Date with Destiny in Florida, December 2017, and keep your eyes peeled for Unleash the Power Within, NEW YORK!  July 2017.

Dedicated to the Memories of

Quido and Emma Notte.

Joshua “Rocco” Thompson.

 

For anyone looking for information about the event or anything to do with Tony Robbins, please call:  Angel McDonnell at 858-535-6287. Or email her at angel.mcdonnell@tonyrobbins.com

Please be sure to  tell her that I sent you.

Thank you and be sure to subscribe to find out when my next blog is posted

 

Make Your Move and Shake Your Ass: My Four Days with Tony. Day Four, Life Will Never Be The Same

Authors Note:  This will be the shortest of all blogs.  You’re welcome.

Oh how different you feel.  What I didn’t include about Day 3, is how high my chest was after the “Dickens Process” and I know I wasn’t alone.

2MM.  Life is nothing but 2mm.

And don’t be stupid, I don’t mean the candy.

It didn’t matter if I woke up on Sunday to protein and almond alarm, or gun shots outside of my room.  You look in the mirror differently. You give a hard look at that person staring back and a smile comes across both of your faces.  Like you see someone you haven’t seen in a long time that you had the biggest crush on.  But you were just afraid to say something in case they let you down.  Now, now you’re ready to put a ring on it!

Which is hard for me because I did get a divorce.  The next marriage is my last marriage.  And you know who says that more than any other human on this planet?  People going on their 3rd marriage.

Nonetheless, you knew everyone did too.  And today was a day full of that, and youtube videos of Tony.  The star of the day was decompression.  And every single product that the Robbins Research Institute had to sell. And that’s okay.  I swear at one point there was a product pitch within a product pitch.  Again, that’s okay.  Not only is Tony a beyond phenomenal public speaker, the fella knows how to market himself.  Remember those big tooth informercials interrupting my me time?  Well, the guy knew market saturation.  And his product was him.  Well, we got a whole day of it, but we also got Wim Hof.

DAY FOUR

Walking around was almost hysterical how everyone was just smiling at each other.  And if everyone wasn’t, you searched out another smile, locked eyes and just threw them one back.  You ever buy a new car and notice afterward how many others have your car?  Well, same thing but not so ego driven.  If they had a bracelet and a smile, when you locked eyes you knew they knew something too, and it felt friggen fantastic!

True story: I’m on the phone with my mother and talking about when I was coming back.  Told her the next day and when I get home after flying all day, I had to be up first thing in the morning to go to the dentist.  My attitude and I literally said it aloud:

“Which is cool because my mouth needs to be cleaned, so I have that to look forward to.”

A very not ugly lady turned and looked at me like I was absolutely awesome.

At least that is what I thought.  And I’m going to go with it.

Loaded up on some actually healthy food (Truth be told, they did have decent healthyish food to choose from at the SAP)  And BIG PROPS to the those at the locations that would fill your water. Especially that one right next to the water fountain.  Once loaded up, headed in.

Me to Security:  “Good morning, thank you for everything you guys are doing”

I’m not, by any stretch trying to sound awesome, it just is coming out that way, I swear.

Met up with a hippieish kid and decided we were going to head to the same section I was last night.  Which, it was pretty cool because you do see smiling faces of friends now.  Sad that this was the end. But it was the beginning and a lot of us knew that.

Now, like I alluded to earlier, this day was nothing but sales.  It started with a voluntary Business Mastery tease with Mike Melio.  Mikey came out two nights prior to tell his difficult journey to prosperity and happiness.  Afterward, they tried to sell you on one of Tony’s other live events.  On this day, it was about an hour and a half of him giving you an outline and tease of the type of information you could get about your business at said event.  It was good, one thing I learned about any entrepreneur or even an autonomous salesperson; be an expert of whatever you are selling.  And use social media and your website to convey that message.  Along with radio!!!  I work for one of these mediums, can you figure out which one?

Joseph followed shortly after and for the remainder of the day we had brief moments of Joe, a guy from Egoscue (Tony Horton fans know what that is) to do some physical stretches.  Joe even gave me the chance to slap a gorgeous 20 something on the ass.

And you’re goddamn right I did.

But the majority of the day was spent watching videos of Tony at another seminar talking about health.  Did it come across as somewhat lame?  Informative? Yes.  Am I using any of the information that was provided? Yes. I stopped eating red meat of any kind and any poultry. Never much of a pork eater, though. Why?

To answer the original question; was it lame?  It was Tony on a screen and the room was still pretty damn cold.  I wasn’t complaining, but I wasn’t nearly as invested as I was the night before.  Unless someone was on stage, and that someone was Wim Hof.

Instead of me going through who Wim Hof is, I will just pass this along for you to judge for yourself.

http://beta.wimhofmethod.com/pages/about

Wim had us doing a horse stance breathing exercise.  All I know, is that I ran a 5k distance that morning and had been on my feet,  a lot, for the previous 3 days.  My legs didn’t get tired and we held that stance for a good amount of time.  The next thing we learned was how to hold our breath to strengthen our immune system.  I will just say that the third time through, I was at least at 2 minutes with my breath held.  It was pretty crazy.  And like that, he was gone.

There were products being pitched with lessons attached.  Primarily about Alkalinity.  If you are a part of Team Beachbody, a lot of what he was teaching was already known.  Especially if you did the Ultimate Reset.  Which I do at least once a year to clean my system.  If interested (like how I did that?) feel free to look into it via:

http://www.beachbodycoach.com/esuite/home/coachkeithitup

By this point of the night, the crowd was 1/3rd the size.  People were tired.  But for those that stayed, well, Joseph sent us off perfectly.

Thank you, Joseph, for being the perfect Robin!

And yes, I made sure to find my Angel (had to) and say thank you for being placed on Earth for me to find at the exact right moment.

To cap off the event, Uber was simple!  My God!

And what happened when I got back to my hotel?  I had dinner with a phenomenal young lady.

Thank you, San Jose!

Thank you, to the entire crew!

Ah hell with it, thank you, Uber!

Now the question to ask is:

Did it work?

One more blog to go and I will have some kickass news too!

For anyone looking for information about the event or anything to do with Tony Robbins, please call:  Angel McDonnell at 858-535-6287. Or email her at angel.mcdonnell@tonyrobbins.com

Please be sure to  tell her that I sent you.

Thank you and be sure to subscribe to find out when my next blog is posted

 

Make Your Move and Shake Your Ass, My Four Days with Tony: Day 3, SET A NEW STANDARD!

Authors Note:  Even though I have shared many personal moments throughout these blogs, this post in particular, will have some moments of ambiguity.  There are moments from this day that belong to me and only me.  If you were there, you will completely understand.  If you weren’t, hopefully someday you will and it will be because of what you’re about to readThank you and enjoy. 

“I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.”

-Mark Twain

Think back to days that forever changed your life.  When you awoke, did you know it would be that day?  Despite being forewarned multiple times the day before by Angel, my life was about to change and how did it kick off?

Goddamn protein bars and almonds!

Saturday morning I awoke after getting a whole 5 hours of sleep.  Other than Angel also informing me about this being THE day of transformation, it was also the longest day, slated to go from 8:30am until 1am.  Do the math.  Still, I must get my workout in.  While in the hotel gym, I noticed a couple other guys that were also wearing their UPW bracelets. (When you registered, you were given a bracelet and lanyard that showed your seating area by color) Our conversation was short, but I made sure to mention how I was informed this was going to be a long one.  So fuel up!

I’m geared up and ready to go, you know, that extra hour of sleep really kicked things up a notch!  Truthfully, I was stoked about Tony being back today.  Like I mentioned earlier, Joseph is spectacular!  But I’m sure even he would admit, the energy when Tony is there, it’s like an amp that goes to 11.

 

However, if I was jazzed for the fact Tony was going to be there, surely some of the other 10,500 felt the same way.  So, I had to get my little ass moving!

Breakfast at the Cafe in the hotel right? WRONG.  Doesn’t open until 7.  And I needed to be on the road.  Whole Foods right? WRONG, they don’t open until 8!  SON OF A BITCH!

Well, goddamn it.

Fast Forward to today.  It’s been over a week and I can’t even look at a bag of salt and vinegar almonds.  Anyway, off to:

DAY THREE

At this point, my comfort level with interacting with complete and total strangers is greater than talking to my family.  How so?  You start to think about how the outside world, your friends, your family, your co-workers, your clients, and how they going to judge you when you get back.

“How was your thing?”

“Did you drink the Kool-Aid?”

“Did you burn your feet?”

“You ‘re not going to be all positive and shit now, right?”

“You DO know Tony Robbins is a fraud?”

My mind was already worrying about something that may or may not happen?  Please refer back to the quote at the beginning of this post.  For some reason though, I had this feeling I was going to be treated like I just became a Scientologist!

Then my phone rang, it was my father.

My father and I have always had a very, tumultuous relationship.  I was predominantly raised by my maternal grandparents and was always a “momma’s boy”. My mom’s family has always been the ones I’ve loved the most and felt like I disappointed the greatest.  When I lost my grandparents within a year of each other, that is when my life sputtered out of control.  Throw in one of my best friends suicide, and well, you can see why I believed (past tense) back in my 20’s that I was justified in having a drug and alcohol dependency.

Back to my father, we actually enjoyed our conversation.  It was lighthearted and even though I sounded like a transvestite phone sex operator, he was so intrigued by what I was doing.  That was the moment I knew the day was going to be different.

I even told him I loved him.

When you get inside, they still don’t let you go to your section of choosing until a certain time. Meanwhile, people line up to ensure they get the seat they want.  While standing there, a very cute, young, Asian woman started chatting with me.  After a bit, we shared a little, not much, a little information about ourselves to each other.  For example:

Me: “I’m 38, you?”

Her: “I’m in my 30’s”

Oh was this little shit going to sit next to me. If not for the simple reason of seeing how much I could get out of her.  She felt like a challenge. S0, I asked if she would sit next to me and she obliged.  Off we went to spend the next, potentially 15 hours with each other.

Another aspect I’ve failed to mention up until now is the dancers.  Yes, the Fire Dancers.  At least that’s what I think they were called.  Their job is to come out and get you pumped up.  Remember the music that I described how God awful some of it was?  It’s Jock Jams.  Plain and simple, it’s Jock Jams and you fucking love it.  You’re doing the claps they are doing, the waves they are doing, the dance moves, and everything. 1996-2015 Keith wouldn’t speak to this guy.  Now I’m Superfly dancing to Britney and Pitbull.  I’m even shaking my ass like I’m the Hotstepper!

 

The young lady that I just met started to open up.  Many of you reading this don’t know me, I’m quite loquacious. Simply put, I talk A LOT and don’t shut the fuck up.  But now I’m listening.  I’m asking her more and more about her life and finding out she was a first generation Chinese American in her family. The more and more I found out, the more and more I realized how amazing some people are and how spectacular their journeys to this destination was.  For you see, it wasn’t just about seeing Tony Robbins, it was seeing how the people you were surrounded by had more in common with you emotionally than you thought.  We all get so consumed and/or overwhelmed by our emotions on a day to day basis thinking that no one understands us.  Just to find out, we’re not alone. We’re far from alone.

Joseph came out first. Initially, it was kind of a letdown, especially when you thought it was going to be Tony all day and night.  Whatever. A let down to this crowd would be the apex compared to A LOT of crowds that I’ve witnessed.   Nonetheless, the education began.  We learned that if you are going to have an Extraordinary Life, you must see what the 7 areas were and how you value each.  This is good for you that weren’t there, because take a moment to look and think about these:

In no particular order: 1)Physical Body. 2)Emotions and Meaning 3)Relationships 4)Time 5)Work/Career/Mission 6) Finances and 7) Celebrate/contribution, Spiritual Sense.

I know where I’m strong but where I want to be stronger.  Which means I fully understand my weaknesses.  The reason you do this, look at where you’re strong and  juxtapose what you do on a daily basis to make them so. Compare that to what you’re weak at. Be honest with yourself, it’s only you, to you, about you, you’re talking to.  I had to turn to my newfound, first generation, fine, female friend.

I joked earlier about how I would share lessons I learned and all you had to do was read this blog to discover them.  I had to turn to the person to my right, left, behind and in front,  a complete stranger, and tell them some things only my fucking therapist knows.  When you have a therapist, you are essentially their mafia boss and you’re paying them off to keep their lips zipped! But now, I’m turning to my right or left and saying my biggest fear, the one thing that frightens me to the point of nightmares and constant self-depreciation, is this and this is why.  You had to get over that shit quick.  Like Day 1, Hour 1.  However, the rabbit hole was going deeper.  Because…

HEEEEEERE’S TONY!!!

EXPLOSION!  LIKE 10,500 PEOPLE ALL HAVING THE BIGGEST ORGASM OF THEIR LIFE AT ONCE!

Don’t ask me why, it just was, and it was fucking awesome!  I could show you a crystal clear video with flawless audio and it would still not even touch what it felt like in that place, at that moment in time.  And by the way, I believe I’ve gained some sort of credibility earlier about being at monumental events.

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I have to add this in first.  Next to the adorable young woman to my left, (I had an aisle seat, remember this) there was a really big, like, looked like NYC mechanic named whose name could have been Lou and his Italian nephew who looked like a Michael.  Remember, “Hug 9 people”?  Well, there was something else you had to do. “Get in groups of 4 and massage the person in the middle”.  That didn’t happen initially.  “Lou” kept conveniently disappearing at those moments.  And at this point, I was okay with it. We will get back to this shortly. Oh and if you don’t like being touched. These events are NOT for you.  Or they could be a way for you to get over that shit!

He opened up with a lot of science about human chemistry and physiology. A theme throughout the weekend.   Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t rocket science, but it was very educating.  I’ve been reading his book, listening to his audio cd’s, and watched the documentary; I understood his language.  A good sum of it was redundant to me.

Then the children were taken out of the room.

For those that have never seen the documentary or much of anything about Tony Robbins, he curses like a drunk trucker at Mardi Gras.  I obviously was very fucking offended. He does acknowledge the children, though.  Saying they are going to hear things, but it is meant to shock.   Freud did it, so, you know.

“Don’t worry the kids are going into another room, we’ve got some great stuff for them to do.  We don’t want them seeing this because this may be very traumatic to them.”

What…the…fuck?  Was I scared when I heard this? You bet you’re fucking sweet ass I was.  And you would be too!  Keep in mind I already walked on fire and may be giving Lou a massage.  So, you know, everything is kinda on the table in this place.

But that is why I walked on fire.

THE DICKENS PROCESS

We all know about Scrooge right?  Whether you’ve read the immortal classic “A Christmas Carol” or saw Bill Murray in “Scrooged”, you know the concept, right?  Past, Present, Future equals changed life. It was at the moment Scrooge sees his future, after examining his childhood and current state, that he ultimately realizes that  his life has to change.   Well, the next hour was spent writing down our 3 most limiting beliefs. The ones that hold us back, scare us.  And guys and gals, I’m not talking about being scared of fucking heights.  These are beliefs.

“I believe if I do this, that will happen”

And some of those are pretty damn debilitating, now aren’t they?  And I’m turning to my left to tell them to someone I met 3 hours ago.

After we wrote three and why, we wrote their complete antithesis.  Our most 3 empowering beliefs and why.

“If only I could do this, this would happen.”

Now that we got those on paper.  We were told that what we are about to do is associate so much pain to those three limiting beliefs, that we will never allow ourselves to feel the same way about them again.

Allow me to say this with the highest regard for our Military and those that Serve.  I am NOT comparing what we did with what they go through.  But the premise can be similar.
We were broken down and then built back up.  Reprogrammed.  And Tony Robbins is my leader.  I’m fucking with you. Just pay attention:

The room went dark and we were told to close our eyes.

“People are going to go through some very strong, intense emotions, don’t comfort them.  Let them suffer.”

Imagine the life that you have where you will never change, a life where you will always be limited by these beliefs, a life that is lived in fear.

Now imagine 5 years from now, feeling that exact same way. But worse.

A boy, I say boy because he just sounded so young to me.  This boy let out a horrific scream like he was being mutilated.  It scared the shit out of me.  Then I thought,

“Why aren’t I having that type of moment?”

Then…

“Imagine it’s 10 years.  Now, people are leaving you because of how you are. You’re all alone”

My knee fucking buckled. I dont know why, but it buckled.  I had to reach back for the arm of my seat. Oh God I couldn’t open my eyes because now…The sobs, the screams…it’s all you could hear and then someone screamed:

“STOP!!!”

At 17 years old, I attempted suicide with my baby brother downstairs.  At 23 I was fully addicted to alcohol, I buried the two people that raised me and my penance for not telling them how much I loved them was feeling like I disappointed them for perpetuity. At 26 we buried my friend that shot himself in the head. The day before, he called and I didn’t answer because I was too hungover.

What I went through for 12 minutes on November 12th, 2016, was the worst moment of my life.  It felt like hell. It was hell…I couldn’t stand straight up. I tried, God knows I tried.  All you heard were people crying uncontrollably.

“Let out a sound that describes what that feels like”

I didn’t know our soul could scream.

“Imagine it’s  20 years”

If he were in front of me…I would have fallen to my knees and begged him to stop.

This is what pathetic feels like.

“Let out a sound that describes what THAT feels like”

I didn’t know the terrified child could scream.

Then..

“REPEAT AFTER ME!”

NOW I AM THE VOICE

I WILL LEAD, NOT FOLLOW

I WILL BELIEVE, NOT DOUBT

I WILL CREATE, NOT DESTROY

I AM A FORCE FOR GOOD

I AM A LEADER

DEFY THE ODDS!!!

SET A NEW STANDARD!!!

STEP UP! STEP UP!! STEP UP!!!

“NOW MAKE THE SOUND OF EVERLASTING JOY!”

YES! MOTHER FUCKING YES!!!!

This is was unstoppable feels like!

And like that, it turned into the most epic moment of my life.  That’s all you get.  My words will never accurately describe what happened after.  I will continue on with certain aspects, but you must feel it for yourself.  Do it for yourself.  Give yourself that gift.  For some, it will be the very first time you ever truly loved yourself.

And what a glorious feeling that is.

All I’m going to say what happened to me physically is this.  I had an aisle seat and had to reach back to make sure I didn’t fall down the stairs because of…I felt sick.  Violently sick. But this is aimed at those that were there, does anyone wish they had someone handing out a few tissues?  The amount of snot coming out of my nose.

And then we had to stick our fucking fingers up the damn thing. Do you honestly think something didn’t stick to it when I pulled it out?  All the while talking to the person to my left?

That was part of breaking the pattern.  We touched base with our inner child, and proved how foolish these beliefs were.  This was proceeded by replacing a lot of our past with our undetermined future.  Oh and what a future I now have waiting for me.

This was the last day with Tony and it was everything you could have prayed, hoped and dreamed of. He was humorous, educating, informative, passionate, honest, and loving.  If some how, some way he sees this.  Thank you.  It was an awful nice thing you did for us…me.

And we fucking rocked that place until 12am!!!

The next hour was for those that wished to sign up for the Mastery Program.  He came back on after 1am but I left at about 12:45.  I had just “exorcised the demons”, I was spent.

Life officially hit the reset button.

Christ, even Lou gave me a massage!

Nothing could touch me, right?

WRONG!

Fucking Uber…

 

For anyone looking for information about the event or anything to do with Tony Robbins, please call:  Angel McDonnell at 858-535-6287. Or email her at angel.mcdonnell@tonyrobbins.com

Please be sure to  tell her that I sent you.

Thank you and be sure to subscribe to find out when my next blog is posted

 

 

Make Your Move and Shake Your Ass: My Four Days with Tony: The Beginning

AUTHORS NOTE:  This was going to be one really long blog post.  Then when I got to 2000 words  and realized I was 1/3rd the way through, the consensus was to make this a series.  I mean people struggle to read 140 letters these days! And before my story begins; yes, I’m fully aware that my title sounds like a God awful softcore porn on Showtime at, like, 3:15 AM.

Now that we’ve got that established.

Coincidence may be one of, if not the most peculiar aspects of life.  Some don’t believe it exists. They believe in God, but not in coincidence or Climate Change.  I believe in God, Climate Change is a fact and coincidence does happen.  Take early August 2016.

The series of events in chronological order:

  1. My therapist and I started talking about my childhood.  Yes, I see a therapist, but only once a month, so that means I’m only 1/12th crazy. (I’m not strong in math)
  2. I went on a date with a”Life Coach” that not only specialized in child psychology, but I’m pretty sure she specialized at sucking at life.  If she reads this, you were as hot of a mess as a dumpster behind a daycare in Texas.
  3. And lastly, I watched the documentary “I Am Not Your Guru”.

What you must understand though, when my therapist and I were starting to bring up my childhood, or lack thereof depending on who you ask. I was asking my therapist and she was saying lack thereof; It brought up wounds that I had no idea still existed.  What I thought was common, she told me was anything but.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve recently come across people whose traumatic tales of their childhood that would make Hitler and Bin Laden cry; So I didn’t really see anything atrocious about mine.  However, the subject matter brought an extraordinary amount of buried bodies to the surface.

Dinner with the “coach” was shortly thereafter.  She possessed kind eyes, unbelievable passion, and a sympathetic heart.  She is actually a published author for a widely popular self-help publisher.  One that I had no idea existed, not to mention the concept of self-help” had always seemed, well, cultish to me. It didn’t help that she reminded me of the kindergarten teacher from Billy Madison.

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What she also possessed was a degree in Child Psychology.  So when I said one thing, she would ask, “what was your relationship with food as a child?”  Here I am thinking, “how did she know I was a fat kid growing up??? I must say that I was also pretty desperate at the time.  I was totally the 20 car pile up to her dumpster fire.  She could have ordered a glass of water at dinner and I would have been, “OH MY GOD, you drink water too!  We have so much in common!”  Needless to say, we didn’t make it past date one.

And then I watched a goddamn documentary.

The Netflix documentary  “I Am Not Your Guru”  is about the 6-day event called “Date with Destiny”.  For 6 days, people pay at minimum $5000 to have their lives examined and changed like they’ve never had before.  My reaction to the first scene:  “HOLY SHIT!  I’m there!” All the while being blown away by the fact that this was the same big tooth Tony Robbins I saw 13 years prior on those informercials telling me how I could be a millionaire and thin.   They really stood out because I saw them primarily  late at night while I was piss the bed drunk trying to, well, “entertain myself” to a “Girls Gone Wild” commercial.  Don’t act like you haven’t been there! And if you had, you know it ain’t that easy  so give me some credit for the effort!

Fast forward 13 years later and I’m not necessarily crying, my living room  just so happened to be really filled with pollen when I was watching him talk to a suicidal man in red shoes.  It was the rawest of emotions.  I’m fascinated by human emotion and especially those that can manipulate them.  All I knew, this is something different.  Different is interesting.  Different is fun!

And when was the last time I did something truly fun?

Problem: FIVE FUCKING THOUSAND DOLLARS! And that’s just for the ticket to the event!   This didn’t include flight or hotel, or food, or transportation.  My wedding reception was slightly over $5,000, and we saw how that ended.

 

That’s when I started to research.  Let me say, if I’d researched this hard in high school or the first time I went to college, I’d be Dr. Hannigan.  But it paid off.

Unleash the Power Within is a 4-day event that was happening in San Jose California in November.  To get in, it was about $625.  There were tickets for much more, but just to get in  was $4k less. So unless you get lost crossing the street, you can see this was becoming more and more feasible.  After looking into flights and a hotel, all in, $1600.  Now we’re dancing. However, two months prior I graduated from college at the age of 37 where I got to live out my lifelong dream of writing and directing a movie.  Oh look, here it is!

 

Point being, I now I had a mountain of student debt at the aforementioned age of 37.  How the hell was I going to justify spending $1600 on a goddamn motivational speaking seminar that may or may not work? All the while the cloud of paying this shit off at the age of 60 was hovering over.

Then God sent me an angel.  Her name is literally Angel.

I called the Robbins Institute to discuss whether I should or shouldn’t do this.  You know, because when we all make a substantial purchase the best person to call is someone that works there and ask, “Hey, should I spend money with the company that pays you?”  To my pleasant surprise,  this sweet sounding woman answered the phone.  I say pleasant surprise because I had no idea what to expect.  Was I expecting a character from the movie “Boiler Room” and then here them yell “Greco” when I showed interest?  Was I expecting a woman that sounded like she smoked a pack of Marlboro Red 1000’s since 13? I had no idea.   What I did get though was an exquisite woman that I will tell you more about later. After I asked that absurd question, she said exactly what I needed to hear. Truth be told, it didn’t take much convincing. She just simply said precisely the right thing.  Like standing at the edge of the cliff on a beautiful island with crystal blue waters awaiting my  body below. I didn’t need a push to dive, I just needed a whisper in my ear saying, “do it.”  And I dove.   She even hooked me up with a deal after I gave her my sob story.  God is she magnificent.  Just like that the ball was in motion.  Hopped online to book my flight and hotel and  here we motherfucking go!!!  I’m going to San Jose for a Tony Robbins event!

Even more beautiful, alright, not even, but pretty sweet was all the freebies. I love free stuff.  I know, I know, I’m a Patriarch.  Anyway,  first thing, I got to choose from a list of “Anthony Robbins” audio programs as a free trial.  Typically it’s only 30 days until you have to return them.  My Angel gave me 60.  I have to do a quick check,  do I sound like Corey Feldman when I say “my Angel”?

 

Please, sweet, vanilla smelling, Christmas baby Jesus I hope not. I’ll stop.  Anway, I of course chose the longest program I could.  Hey, I got two months with them and three months to kill, so what the hell else was I going to do? Work? My boss doesn’t have Facebook or Twitter, so you know.  His wife does though.  She won’t read it.  Unless you are right now.  If you are, hi, thanks for reading, and you could do so much better than him.

So,   I chose “Ultimate Edge”.  Yes, because it just sounded so very bad ass.  And I listened.  And I did the exercises, well 99% of them at least.  For those that have never heard any of his audio programs, you can easily give them a shot on Youtube.  There is content that is truly spectacular.  But just listening to a series of CD’s was not going to help me get to where I needed to be.  For you see, I had no idea where I needed to go.

Another bonus was a free coaching session.  If you’ve never spoken to a “life coach”, dumpster fires aside, it’s pretty intense.  A therapist, for those of you that have yet to experience one, which means you need one; you talk  98% of the session, they ask you why you feel that way, you try to figure it out, and then at the end they give their two cents and then ask when you want to schedule your next appointment.  I love my therapist, but it’s like “Who’s the Boss” and waiting for Tony and Angela to bang!  I mean come on already, he’s Tony fucking Danza! Moral of the story, the process is quite arduous.  With a coach, especially one as highly trained as one from TR, the conversation went like:

Coach: What’s the problem?

Me: I struggle with blah blah blah and my divorce did nothing but reinforce it since she told me blah blah blah.  On top of doing blah blah blah I blah blah blah.

Coach: Oh poor you, you allowed this woman to make you feel this way.  So you’re telling me you aren’t strong enough to feel for yourself. You allow others to be the determining factor of  how YOU feel about YOUR life?  How about this, we look into actually getting you a pair of testicles and then we go from there.

Me:


HOWEVER, I’m not going to post a pic or video of someone shitting their pants like I did when she then, of course, tried to sell me on paying for an annual coaching contract.  Not cheap. And I think we already established that I owe a couple dollars to student debt.  Primarily due to the fact I kept taking refund checks and using them for blow and booze. So I got a great education on how to totally piss away money! Literally.

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Nonetheless, my hairy ass was getting on a plane to San Jose on November 10th.

But first came November 8th.

 

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