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I’m cozying up with my puppy, a peach iced tea, and my easel for a nice little saturday night in by myself, and what do I find on TV? Point Break! The early 90s produced some real gems, and this is one of my faves. Right now Patrick Swayze’s friend is lighting a car on fire with a gas pump spewing flames. Don’t worry, Keanu’s about to have an epic 10 minute chase to straighten things out.
Is it sad that when I met Keanu outside my apartment in New York all I had to tell him was that this was my favorite of his movies? Whatever, it was the chance of a lifetime and I jumped on it.
My story telling attempts in social situations generally end up in some unforeseen interruption, someone talking louder than me, or everyone losing interest altogether. The point is that everyone gets excited when the topic of conversation veers toward a subject for which you just happen to have the perfect input. Now picture spending most of your 25 years plagued with that pent up excitement and gun shy attitude toward any story-telling opportunity. The feeling you should be imagining explains most of my awkwardness, some of my spastic expressive nature, and all of why I hope this blog can finally free my inner storyteller.
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