January 23, 2012

#benspotting.

So…life called my bluff. A few months ago, we upgraded our home television and internet service. One thing led to another, and all of a sudden I was on billboards, radio stations, television channels, telcom stores, and web banners strewn about the Atlantic provinces.

Now, I’d fill in some of the details for you, but you have to understand that this is sort of how things go over here. The newf gets home from work, I tell him some random occurrence while watching Glee DVDs in my sweatpants, and all of a sudden the entire city is going about their daily business under the watchful eye of well…building-sized limited editions of my face.

It doesn’t make any sense, and it’s not going to make any sense, so I’m going to have to just ask that y’all get on board so we can move on.

Anyhow, in the midst of all this happening, I was joking with some fellow Halifax bloggers about how we should make a hashtag so that the entire Atlantic Canadian population could get in on the excitement of gazing upon my beauty. We’d call it #benspotting.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Yes – we’re obnoxious but at least we keep ourselves entertained.

And then it actually started to happen.

And then it sustained for longer than anyone thought possible.

And then more people wanted to use my face for things.

And then after multiple rounds in film studios, recording studios, photo shoots, and interviews, I brought you guys up to speed on the Kardashianesque mania that my life has become. Well, it’s Kardashian once you take away all the fame, wealth, power, and global embarrassment.

So, if all of Atlantic Canada has to put up with me invading their senses, so do you and there’s pretty much no way I can take you through all of this without it sounding really braggy and awful. But whatever. We’ll get through it like a bandaid…slowly but surely, one hair at a time. Or maybe that’s just how I rip off bandaids.

  • First, and most prominently, do you remember that TV and internet upgrade I mentioned? Yeah. I’m all over that now. I basically own Bell. Again, if ‘own’ were to have nothing to do with riches, power, or control. So don’t be that guy who comes to me for customer service. I just wanted to download tween pop songs faster. And I do that on repeat-peat-peat-peat-peat.
  • Second, and I am particularly happy with how this one turned out, I haven’t embarrassed my alma mater to the point of them denying any connection to me! Huzzah! In fact, they so very kindly brought me in for an interview, video profile, and lovely article about my ahem non-traditional career path. Check it out, y’all.

  • Third, I somehow landed myself in very lovely company for a magazine feature on local bloggers. And this one? It’s more a testament to you guys than it is to me. Without you, I wouldn’t have a blog, I wouldn’t have found my voice, I wouldn’t have gone to Africa, I wouldn’t have ended up on billboards, and I wouldn’t have my style described as, “mini-memoirs: incidents in his life shaken vigorously into a cocktail of comical description and sassy sarcasm.”

Actually, now that I write it all out, I’m slowly realizing that this post isn’t obnoxious and braggy about me. It’s more accurately an obnoxious and braggy post about YOU, your unbelievable support of the blog that more than one person said would keep me unemployed, and the energy you share that keeps me thinking I can keep blazing my own trail year after year. Sure, I love the things I get to do, but so much of it comes down to wanting to make you (yes, YOU) proud. I mean that.

So thank you. Truly. But god – quit being so obnoxious about it okay? There’s something to be said about keeping some humility. Some people are just so arrogant…

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Welcome, creepy Google search terms. I’m sure you’ll feel quite at home.

January 9, 2012

The other day while the newf was out educating the leaders of tomorrow, I counted how many pairs of underwear he had. And before you go asking why one might feel the need to do such a thing, you need to understand that it’s winter up here in Canada and that means getting creative about filling all the time you spend indoors hating the world. Also, it’s been a full year since I started working from home without coworkers – I’ll be the first to admit that I’m getting weird.

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This post may suggest otherwise, but I ran summer camps for five years. FIVE YEARS.

January 5, 2012

It has come to my attention (because some people can’t just let things go), that I may have overlooked one very obvious omission from my previous list of social encounters that make me uncomfortable: face-to-face interactions with children, babies, or anyone too far below the legal drinking age. While at first I attempted to counter this accusation, my internal reaction to news that a new-mom friend was coming over said more than I ever could:

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Here comes the bride and that guy you should probably try to avoid.

January 3, 2012

Sweeping Statement #1: There are very few social situations that I cannot rock. Moreover (what a fucking terrible word…we should just replace it with ‘WHY YES. AS A MATTER OF FACT, I HAVE TAKEN A INTRODUCTORY-LEVEL ENGLISH COURSE’), the ones that cause me any level of anxiety are typically ones in which I know I will never find myself. Like orgies*. Or murder plots**. Or cover-ups after someone accidentally dies during an orgy and you’re the only one who wants to go to the cops about it***. Or basically anything that has to do with anonymous sex or death. Or math conventions.

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