Sentential Links

Linkage!

:: I turned 40 a few weeks ago. One would think that by this “reasonably adult like age” that I would no longer feel guilty about simple things in life, like, missing an event, right? Wrong.

And it’s time to do something about it. Starting now. (I’ve been struggling with ditching guilt as well. I’m getting there!)

:: It’s not hard to amass a cheap Mr. T collection because he merchandised his image to every dam product one could think of. There is everything from Mr. T puffy stickers to Mr. T lip balm. I was a big fan back in the day but have NOTHING Mr. T related in my home. There is just something very very wrong with that. (Me either….)

:: Yep, there’s nothing more fun than watching an ice bowl or snowstorm… on television. Sitting in your nice warm living room, beer and snacks at your fingertips, a fire roaring, the bathroom only feet away, and the game in high def on a giant flatscreen. The yellow line, replays, close ups, field reporters, coverage from every angle – that’s football.

:: This is me, my friend Mitchell, my friend Jackie. We are in college. 19, 20 years old. We crashed a party at the Biltmore Hotel in Providence, an invitation-only black-tie party on the top floor. I remember us waltzing in, like we belonged there, and no one questioned us or asked to see our invitations. We were determined to be at that party. We had a blast. There was a deejay. We danced. We drank. We knew no one at the party. Did anyone ask us, “So who are you guys?” I don’t remember. We took this obnoxious photo. I look at this photo and think: “Guys, you weren’t invited. Go home.”

:: The question: is the bench Les’s permanent phone background wallpaper, which would explain why Cayla looks so emotionally numb in panel four, or does it just appear when Summer calls, which would explain why she’s so full of rage and frustration that she can’t fully explain?

:: This man will be on the Justice League.

Blurry lines. Evil is very relative. (Wow….)

:: Rest is the key. The day is easier to face when rested. And I’ve spent years being unable to rest.

Rest and breathe. (SamuraiFrog is doing quite the service in his writings about anxiety, because he’s documenting what it’s really like to mount that battle. This is important. It really is. I salute his brave writing on the subject.)

More next week!