Coming Attractions...

Hello Friends.

I find that blogging is just like riding a bike. Sometimes I forget how to do it and have to wait for my dad to come pick me up. Geez louise, I skip one week and this blank page is terrifying. And what a week! I went back to the big city for a family wedding and a week-long visit with friends and family. I've never understood the desire to vacation to a place where you don't know anybody. Sandy beaches and all-inclusive nachos are fine, but wouldn't you rather see a whole bunch of friends and watch YouTube and laugh all night? I would and I did.

This preamble is all to say that I've been a lazy git and don't have an original thought or concept in my head. Rather than leave the old blog blank another day, I feel compelled to write something. You know how sometimes the best part of seeing a move is the brilliantly crafted trailer that precedes it? Like this one, holy shit! How goes does that look?! With that in mind, let me offer you a preview of what I might write for you in the future, when my brain isn't post-vacation, days of drinking, bad food-eating mush.

Dream: Plan future entries of Big City James.

Goal: Achievable. I know this is a little precious and meta. I hate when anything gets too self-referential. Like when a tv show alludes to the fact that it's a tv show, or a pop star samples a lyric from an old hit onto a new hit, or when your pimple gets a pimple. But it's this or nothin', so suck an egg.

Plan: List potential Dreams I'd like to address in this blog, like:

• Lose ten pounds for summer
• Gain fifteen pounds for winter
• Have a cameo in something. Is there a way for an actor to skip directly to cameo? I'd love to just pop up in a restaurant scene, observe, "It smells like farts in here" (only I'd say "farts" like an old New Englander, like "fahts", like I was George in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf) and then leave.
• But something practical without considering the price for twenty minutes (a recent new toaster took an afternoon)
• More interviews. I'd love to talk to random people, and somehow get over my fear of approaching them. For instance, there's this woman who cleans the lobby of our building and she must be mid-40s and she wears Calvin Klein's Obsession and I want to know everything about her life.
• Program my own TV channel with just shows I like (BCJTV)
• Try yoga.
• No seriously, I'd like to try it.
• Why do my feet look so fucked?
• Make new friends. Someone told me there's a website that's like a dating site, but just for friends. I'm gonna find it, there's sure to be material there.
• Attend a rally.
• Wear my tanktop. I don't know why, but I bought a tanktop on my trip. I look ridiculous in it but if I don't wear it now, I'll never get that chance again.
• Develop a taste for wine.
• Develop a taste for wings.
• Read or re-read a literary classic. I read Great Gatsby in grade twelve and really liked it. As I recall, we studied it rather intensely and did reports on it and stuff. I saw the movie two nights ago (visually stunning, if a bit draggy at parts) and didn't remember a thing. The whole time I kept thinking, "Did I read something else in grade twelve by mistake? Isn't there a fat woman in this story? What am I thinking of?"
• Go on a picnic. No, fuck that.

Forgive me this terrible self-indulgence. I don't know why it's such a struggle to put fingers to keyboard today. I wanted to write about my adventures last week, but I can't somehow. Treating recent events like cherished memories cheapens the whole thing somehow. People would think I was misrepresenting the fun I had, like I couldn't possibly have enjoyed myself that much. But I really did. I may not be a Big City James anymore in that I no longer live in the Big City, but it's a fabulous place to visit and I'll be back. This blog will also be back, sometime next Thursday, with something more substantial. Or maybe it'll be another rambling, listy, cop-out. You'll just have to wait and see. It smells like fahts in here.