Hello? ... Is there anybody out there (there, there, there) ... *crickets*
Aha. I haven't updated in months. Any readers clearly figured I died, or moved across the country or something. Well, if you guessed the second, congratulations. You paid attention. We're friends. I'm happy. This is big, you know, for us.
Moving on, I moved. San Francisco, CA back to my Portland, ME humble roots. It is a retreat from a life I didn't prepare / didn't want / didn't need to start. I've noticed a significant rise in my creative flow and production, two things I was really looking for out on the West Coast. My finances are stabilizing from "Oh. Shit." to "Hey, Future, what's going on? Are we going to be cool?" My tax return is going to be the Government throwing me a large bone, and instead of gnawing on it, I shall bury it in the yard. The University of Southern Maine and I are seeing each other again, it's been nice, just patching up, some further resolve so we can both be comfortable when our separate times come and we must step forward. A mutual decision to let wild birds of paradise watch the rusty cage door swing open, hesitate, cock their heads and weigh their options. It's only fair to note I'm dating an incredibly beautiful woman who is intellectual, adventurous and endlessly entertaining. For Astrology Geeks!: Aries to my Gemini! Who knew?! It's like constellations are in your heads!
Seriously, astrology can shove it.
I digress. I'm back.
But I haven't been scribing my memories of wonderment, lore, legend, embarrassment, indulgence, debauchery, stories told-too-often, or never-told-at-all. And why? I lost a taste for it. I guess my transamerican transition(s) did something to my ego, especially after writing about the "Saddest" sensitive subject for me. I started this business to make people laugh, now I'm posting about blubbering in public. Meh.
I'm in a more comfortable place now. More time for introspection. The creative fruits have been chopped, blended and given nutritional supplements into a mouth-watering concoction of juice. I am ready for my self-smoothie. Would you like a sip?
No? Well. Then...
That's just not what blogs are about. I'm writing more, whether you want to taste my juice or not.
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All stories, tales, anecdotes, scripts, reviews, ramblings, dreams, biased accounts, exaggerations, quoted song lyrics, half-stories, half-truths, blatant lies, and fictitious/nonfictitious memories alike are the property of Travis H. Curran and T.H.C. Inc. All legal rights to said items are property of T.H.C. Inc. Any unauthorized duplication is a federal offense and will be punished by a 150,000 dollar fine, paid directly to Travis Curran, or he will tie you to a tree and tickle your feet with a feather until you laugh so hard you cry and then he'll do it some more until you can hardly breathe, then he'll punch you in your solar plexis and you'll lose what little breath you had and then he'll kick you in the shins real hard but you can't scream because your lungs are empty, then he'll put honey on your chest and leave you for wild animals to come by and lick it off you, like that one scene from Heavyweights.
GOD, I love that movie.
GOD, I love that movie.
2 comments:
Oh, I always want to taste your juice, dogg.
Self – smoothie?
mmmmmm. interesting.
Would it be a cool silky Tropical Colada or breezy Mango Peach... or Guava Passion Fruit ... or Wild Berry Crème or maybe an awesome Strawberry Mojito?
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