Imperfect Gods

Maybe I backtracked, lost myself and my direction
and in the last act, I disappeared for my protection
In reality it's my words and not my silence that will protect me
and it's been a long time...I shouldn't have left me

I heard a pretty amazing sermon in church this morning that really hit close to home. My church, Discovery, typically runs with a theme for several weeks or more, often times tying scripture into the reality of our modern lives. The theme that started last week is called 'Gods at War' and the concept is that we place such importance on things in our lives, things that may not necessarily be inherently 'bad', that we in essence make gods of them, pushing God Himself aside in the process. We make gods of pleasure, of sports, of social media, of hobbies, of jobs, of relationships...anything that becomes so overwhelmingly important in our lives that we grant it power over ourselves at the expense of a greater truth.

I don't write this to push any agenda, religious or otherwise. Even if you disregard the spiritual nature of the sermon there is a life lesson in this, one that I can relate to. Painfully. When we place such importance on anything, even something seemingly harmless or even good, we are making it a god over us. Giving it the ability to affect our happiness and even our lives. Believing that without it we can never be satisfied, never be satiated, never live a fulfilled life. I don't even write this to try to educate as my own lack of wise decision making in regards to this borders on embarrassing.

I've done this to myself. In the past. In the present. Repeatedly. Made certain things in my life so overwhelmingly important that I felt incomplete without them. Depriving myself of the ability to feel whole or unequivocally happy. And in placing such importance on something we also place a tremendous amount of pressure on it. Pressure to continuously provide the pleasure or comfort we derive from it. Pressure to be there when we need it. Pressure to live up to expectations. Essentially we're asking for perfection, at least from our perspective. And that's something only God can deliver, not false idols or the imperfect gods we create.

I want to better myself in this aspect. I want to prioritize my life in a manner befitting a good man. I want to dethrone the false gods I've created for myself. There's no sweeping proclamations or changed behavior here, I know my weaknesses better than anyone and recognize that I'll have to fight my instinctive behaviors. My goal is to use my time, attention and actions on those things which make me better. To enjoy the worthwhile pleasures I find in life without letting them rule over me. I wish the same for all of you, to live your life without worshipping imperfect gods. Much love, everybody.



 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Mom



My faith, my dreams, my thoughts my heart
The foundation of all that I am, my start
The one at my lowest who still takes my hand
The reason after I've fallen I find the strength to stand...



http://www.upworthy.com/these-kids-finally-say-what-they-really-think-about-mom-and-her-reaction-priceless-9?c=ufb1

It's been over 13 months since I posted a blog to 'The State of Kulifay'. Call it laziness or lack of ambition. Call it a shortage of subject matter to inspire me. Call it really good television on nowadays. You might be partially correct in all of those but I believe it's deeper than that. Writing is my chosen form of expression but it also forces me to be honest with myself, and decide how much of that honesty I'm not only willing to acknowledge, but also share with others. All I know is I talk about writing as a form of therapy and yet I've allowed myself to go without treatment for so long. I guess I needed something I found worth writing about and in truth I've had one all along.

My mom. Sherry Aldridge Kulifay.

And today is her birthday.

I would start this by saying I've had a rough few years but to phrase it like that suggests I've been the victim of circumstances out of my control rather than the source of my own situations. I've made errors in judgement and failed personal responsibilities that have not only changed my life but, unintentionally or not, brought hurt and worry to those closest to me. Nothing malicious in nature but simply failing to address my own weaknesses or battle my own demons. And while I may have stumbled along my path, I cannot explain how much further I may have fallen during the course of my life without her guidance and unwavering support. My failures are my own. My victories have required the patience, grace and love of others.

I don't write this to discuss my shortcomings (blogs should only be so long) or delve into family history. But please understand that in addition to the love and support she has shown me through some of my most difficult times, I write this because there is a strength and resilience in my mother that I don't think even she is aware of. She has endured and overcome more than I can ever truly grasp and has only become more loving and faithful as a result. She has experienced hardship and become softer. She has felt pain and gained compassion. She has been tested and still believed. I believe God lives in hearts like my mother's and I pray that mine can be as such.

There's no list of adjectives that could adequately convey who my mother is or what she means to me. Just know that she is the best of me and she is what keeps me struggling against my weaknesses and fighting my demons. I am self aware enough to know that I would have fallen to the pitfalls and temptations of life, both great and small, in big decisions and the fleetest of moments, where I would have made choices that would have left me ashamed and broken. Less than the man I am and far short of the man I hope to be. It is the thought of her, my obligation as a son to her teachings and values, that has kept me on a (relatively) honorable path. She is what keeps me sane, keeps me fighting, keeps me from falling and so much more:

She's my friend

 

My coffee partner

 

My fellow movie critic

 

The one who teaches me to stop and smell the roses in life

 

A devoted wife



 

A loving mother and grandmother

 

A person of faith and family

 

And so many more things to me and everyone around her.

 

Like anyone who aspires to write, or draw, or paint or sing I wish I could express myself better. I wish I could capture my thoughts, emotions and gratitude in a way the reader could experience. I wish love had a measurement so she would know what she means to me. But my talents are limited, my gifts finite and my words insufficient. So, as usual, I count on her. I count on her to read the thoughts unwritten, hear the words unsaid and understand the feelings unexpressed. She is the reason I still take pride in who I am.

 

Trying to write about my mom is difficult because in a real way it's very much like trying to write about myself. There is a connection and understanding between us that is unique in my life.   My love of reading and movies. My wit. My caring for others. My sensitivity. My sense of humor. My appreciation for a good pumpkin spice latte'. The worrying and overthinking. These are all things that define me and come in great part from her. So part of this blog is a gift to her, and to myself: My pledge to start writing again. My pledge to do something that makes me more complete and utilizes a gift I've been given. My pledge to work on my weight and health so she doesn't have to worry about me so much. My pledge to focus on a healthier, happier life. My pledge to be better. My gift to someone who cares more about me than she does about herself is to take better care of myself, physically, spiritually and emotionally.

 

She is mom. And to me, that says it all.

 

Happy birthday. Thank you for everything. I love you.

 

- Johnny

 



 

 





 



 



The En-Lightening Blog (Original Working Title: The F-It Blog)



Too lively, no worries, depression won’t survive me
No license, don’t need it, I got this anger to drive me
This isn’t hatred, hate is way beneath me
And so far out of sight it couldn’t jump to reach me...

Thursday, October 4th's epipheny: I need to lighten up.

Seriously, like sometimes you just gotta throw on the cheap sunglasses from Risky Business and say "what the fuck" kinda lighten up. Like a Will Ferrell Talladega Nights-Anchorman-Step Brothers marathon kinda lighten up.  Like a get drunk on tequila and grab a...well you get the point.

 

I looked back at some of my blogs (which if you haven't done by now yourself, you really should...this is classic literature here) and I was struck a little bit by how serious and at times existential some of them come off, even with some juvenile humor thrown in here and there. I think sometimes in the moment of writing I miss a bit on the tone of the message I'm trying to convey. Blame it on my limitations as a writer and my own mental confusion at times. If I ever figure out how to properly express conflicting emotions in my writing while keeping it entertaining, well then I'll stop writing free blogs and try to get paid. Yep, I'm using you, my faithful readers, as a step towards something much more lucrative. I hope we can work through this.

And pardon the second (and all subsequent) f-bomb in such a short time but basically, fuck it. I'm tired. Tired of caring so much about things out of my control. Fuck it, I'm tired of my love/hate relationship with love and always giving wayyyyy more than I get. Fuck it, I'm tired of worrying about being single and whether I'm even emotionally up to a stable relationship at this point. Fuck it, I'm tired of letting people influence my mood and happiness when they clearly don't care to expend any effort on my behalf. Fuck it, I'm tired of letting the general public affect me so much during my workday. Fuck it, I'm tired of thinking there's something wrong with me because I don't have the answers. And I'm tired of typing 'Fuck'...my mother might be reading this (sorry Mom!)

I have a good life. And the thing about it is, all the things that bother me are to some greater or lesser degree in my control. Maybe I can't control whether someone I love loves me but I can damn sure control how much effort I put into it and stop making myself miserable in the pursuit of potential happiness. I can't generally control people and events but I CAN control how they affect me. I can let the little, trivial things go, even if they don't feel so trivial at the time. I'm not starving. I have a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in. I have clothes on my back and plenty of food in my stomach (shaddup). I have great friends and people who have proven they care about me.

I often reference something I heard from a comedian whose name I can't remember on a documentary about stand-up comedians. To paraphrase he said that the way a comedian's mind works is that if they're doing a set in front of 300 people and 299 of them are laughing, at the end of the night the only one on the comedian's mind is that one audience member with his/her arms crossed not laughing at anything. That's the only one who matters to a lot of performers. I often attribute this to why attractive women date assholes. When almost every guy you've met since you were 15 has been trying to sleep with you and kisses your ass, the guy who treats you like crap stands out. He suddenly becomes the one guy they want, or even need to like them. It's a strange, but disturbingly common, combination of confidence and insecurity, or maybe just a desire to please. I think I have that mental condition to a degree. I have amazing people in my life, I shouldn't be worried about, more or less wasting time, energy and happiness on the select few people who aren't doing the same for me.

So fuck it. I like my life. I like who I am (right about now you should sync your iPods to play some Celine Dion or Sarah McLachlan song to emphasize the mood...then transition into something from Rocky III or IV for the triumphant close). Like most important things in life it's not a decision made in a moment but an effort over time but I'm determined to stop letting things get me down. To stop letting my first-world, freshman-psych class bullshit dominate my thoughts and mood. To embrace life more, appreciate the people in my life more and be thankful for my blessings more. To laugh, love and...well you get the idea.

One love.

 

 

http://www.facebook.com/johnathan.kulifay?sk=notes#!/notes/johnathan-kulifay/reprisal/10151219858915225

The Football, Coffee and Bacon Preoccupation



You don't know me, you only know the part you see
It's not an act, but it's not the only part of me
some watch the show from the seats, some got lines to say
But it's my life, I do the casting for every role to play...



Allow me to set the record straight: If I consumed bacon even a fraction as often as I reference it on social media I would have passed away long ago, my arteries as clogged as a dive-bar toilet on dollar taco night, my stomach distended like the Octomom's. It's not a pretty picture and the last thing I want is my legacy of classy behavior, lauded accomplishments and superb fitness to be washed away by a tragic, embarrassing death, a la Elvis. When I shuffle this mortal coil I envision myself garbed in a Steelers hoodie with a lime beer near my hand and suggestive innuendo the last words to escape my lips. Like the respectable gentleman I am. And while I love football I assure you I don't take it as seriously as many of you yinzers whose weekends are ruined by an early season loss to the Raiders. As for coffee...well ok, I may drink way too much. I'm drinking one right now. Don't you judge me.

I'm starting to suspect that my inordinate amount of status updates on Facebook relating to football, coffee and (especially) bacon are leading the readers to believe that I am about as deep as a kiddie pool, child urine aside. And while that's far from the truth I'm sure that I, like almost everyone else, am not as deep or unique as I like to think I am. There are two big reasons I post regularly about football, coffee and bacon:

1: I really do like football, coffee and bacon. Seriously.

2: I'm afraid to talk about a lot of other things that would lead to infinitely more interesting exchanges.

That first one is pretty self-explanatory. Allow me to elaborate on the second:

I'm not afraid of confrontation, verbal or physical. I avoid it when possible because first and foremost I'm not an asshole, and because most of the people I engage are decent at heart and typically acquaintences if not friends or family. Plus, with a face this handsome you just don't want to damage it. I owe that to the women of the world. But sometimes I may avoid confrontation too much. I let things slide that I would like to address simply because I don't feel a lot of you have the same amount of respect that I do in these matters. I have a temper but it takes a certain amount of disrespect to set it off. For instance, if someone cuts me off in traffic (shaddup) I don't get road rage. Shit happens. When that same individual responds to my completely reasonable light horn tap or raising of the hands by flipping me off, I go batshit crazy. I have yelled, threatened and even chased (through red lights, stop signs and sanity) because the combination of idiocy, disrespect and illogical behavior triggers something in me, and that side of me is not nearly as patient and charming as the me most of you are used to.

Likewise, when I try to engage anyone in anything meaningful, much like in my lovelife, I like to do it in one-on-one situations or small groups at best. Trying to debate my 300+ Facebook friends (don't hate me cause I'm popular) and expecting to have a rational exchange in which no one pisses me off is foolishness. I'm just not a debate orgy guy. It sounds like a great idea but everyone is just trying to please themselves, no one cares about actual dialogue and eventually someone is going to do something that ruins it for everybody. This is not a jab at those of you who throw their political, religious and cultural hats into the social media ring. I respect that you do so and some of you I've learned quite a bit from. As a matter of fact my vote in the upcoming election will probably be decided by what I learn from posts on my newsfeed. Keep at it. It's just not my thing.

So I keep it safe and light by talking about bacon, coffee and football among other trivial subjects and if that makes me soft or weak to you...well fuck you. I decide my level of discourse, when to speak, when to raise my voice and when to fight if necessary. And when I do decide I'm damn good at it so be careful what you ask for. In the meantime you can ask me anything, anytime and I'll discuss it personally. Those who know me well know there's pretty much nothing taboo (except HawthorNe, Lil Wayne and Dane Cook...bring up at your own risk). So if you're ever interested in how deep the deep end of the Kulifay pool goes, dive right in. It's just not a party.

P.S. Yes, I am aware of the anticipated bacon shortage. Unlike those of you who repeatedly talk about the 'zombie apocalypse' I am actually well prepared. I won't discuss the particulars but I will have my bacon. And for those of you worried about rising prices, remember this: bacon is priceless.



The 2012 Fay-lympics

I don't run for the gold, I run for my soul

high jump these obstacles that I can never control

Swim past these self doubts keeping me from my goal

so when I stand on that platform I'm prepared for the role...

With Olympic spirit having swept across this great land of ours, and across the world as well, I couldn't help but wonder how my own personal inaugural Olympics would take place. And like the real Olympics, people will forget my exploits 17 minutes after they happen so this is an in the moment vanity project. So for your reading pleasure (or mockery) I've provided you a rough itinerary of the Fay-lympics...

RUNNING OF THE TORCH
My friends and acquaintences (having assuredly been compensated) will run, jog or walk (obviously in the Fay-lympics no one is authorized to operate a motor vehicle) carrying a torch emblazoned with the Steelers logo and burning only bacon grease, from St. Louis to Chicago to Pittsburgh in remembrance of my childhood travels. Runners will also carry a smaller torch, complete with copyright infringing mouse ears, from Orlando to Pittsburgh for the opening ceremonies.

OPENING CEREMONIES
In an artistic clusterfuck celebrating the culture of Kulifay, dozens of minimum wage Taco Bell employees use synchronized movements to tell my story of bacon indulgence, fantasy football participation, retail employment, coffee addiction, love of hip-hop and relationship dysfunction. The closer will have Morgan Freeman narrating selected passages from 50 Shades of Grey while a giant high definition screen shows all the cease and desist letters from Jessica Biel's lawyers sent to me over the years. The games are officially announced when the torch sets fire to a stuffed representation of Dane Cook.

COMPETITIONS

Speed Texting: Like figure skating, gymnastics and throwing obnoxious birthday parties, rich 16 year old girls will dominate grown men here. If touchscreens hadn't come around I would have at least bronzed in this event, however. You're scored by the 'word' here so knowledge of text shorthand and various facial expressions (emoticons to the texting professional) is an absolute must.

Stand-Up Showdown: Amateur comedians will compete in a stand-up competition judged by Louis C.K., Patton Oswalt, Dave Attell and Chris Rock underneath giant banners of Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Greg Giraldo and Bernie Mac. Points will be granted for originality, edginess, handling hecklers and (of course) excessive profanity. Anyone who is judged to have stolen material from other comedians must stand on the Carlos Mencia Platform of Shame during the awards ceremony.

The 100 Yard Retail Customer Hurdles: Lowly paid competitors must work their way through a gauntlet of condescending, expectant, irrational and demanding customers of various ages and income brackets. They will be judged on patience, knowledge, fake sincerity and the ability to bullshit under pressure. The medals will be delivered to the nametag-clad winners in gold, silver and bronze shopping carts.

The Lil Wayne CD Discus Throw: Self explanatory.

Quotathletics: Verbal athletes compete against one another by attempting to maintain a conversation using only movie quotes. The first participant to falter or misquote is eliminated. Competitors must also be able to identify the movie and character source of the quote at the referee's discretion. Each quotathlete has three passes to substitute song lyrics in place of movie quotes to continue the conversation (any use of Nickelback results in an automatic disqualification).

Meme Marathon: Continuing the Fay-lympics tradition of rewarding people for taking credit for other people's creativity, competitors are given random moods and must race to provide a suitable meme and post it to social media.

Blogging Nonsensically: As a tribute to the namesake of the Fay-lympics our competitors must blog about inane topics that challenge no one intellectually, fail to create any kind of stimulating conversation, refuse to address relevant political, religious or social issues or contribute to society in any way. Points will be awarded for self-indulgence, over-explanations, crude humor and overwhelming narcissism (like parodying the Olympics for your own purposes).

AWARDS CEREMONIES
Champions receive gift certificats to Primanti Brothers while silver and bronze medalists receive Andrew McCutchen bobbleheads. As the cheers die down and the adrenaline of the games wears off, recipients will hang their heads in shame as the realization of what they've participated in finally hits them.

CLOSING CEREMONIES
Having come together in the spirit of...well, something...participants and spectators alike will trudge wearily back to their day-to-day lives, each with a free pack of bacon and a little less dignity. There won't be a dry eye in the place as hometown success story Wiz Khalifa serenades the masses with his soulful tales of expensive cars, general thuggery, and excessive marijuana inhalation. See you all in 2014 for the Winter edition. Bring your own sleds.

I Can't Handle the 'Truth'

Face to face I never feel powerless
but online all this tough talk is really disguised cowardice
But let's face it, no written word is hurtin' me
the only thing I'm certain of is I'm sick of all the certainty...

Whoever undertakes to set himself up as a judge of truth and knowledge is shipwrecked to the laughter of the gods. - Albert Einstein

Claiming to know the truth is a slippery slope but still so many people skate down that mountain like Shaun White (editor's note: Shaun White is a ginger snowboarder who goes by the nickname 'The Flying Tomato' and is the only name I could come up with for skiing/snowboarding. Very little research is done for these blogs). And the internet is pretty much the most chaotic arena in which to brandish your gladiator sword of truth. The audience is primarily unregulated, abnormally hostile and confrontational due to anonymity and/or distance and nothing angers the unwashed masses more than a different opinion. And, even more importantly, so many of them are absolutely CERTAIN that they know the truth and your opinion is not only incorrect, but worthy of having your intelligence, hygiene, sexuality and mother's promiscuity called into question. I can't help but wonder how that unwavering certainty serves them in the real world.

In a controversy the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth and, and have begun striving for ourselves. - Buddha

I inwardly cringe sometimes when I see certain topics brought up in a forum because I can sense with Charles Xavier like mind-reading skills what responses will inevitably pop up. Whether it's something as (relatively) unimportant as Lebron James, a Tosh.0 comedy sketch or whether bacon is truly the greatest food on earth, or more inflammatory topics such as religion, politics and whether bacon is truly the greatest food on earth, people get disturbingly angry and confrontational at anything resembling a different opinion. It's not the polarizing views that bother me, it's the hostility that reminds me that if it weren't for rules and consequences a good number of our 'civilized' population would be far from civilized. Bring some of these people in a room together and they'd be minutes away from beating their chests and flinging feces. Their anger has nothing to do with truth, but rather with ego. Claiming a different truth than what I believe is a direct question of who and what I am...and now I must fling my feces at you.

All things are subject to interpretation, whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth. - Friedrich Nietzsche

My biggest issue with the tsunami of self-righteousness and assuredness that has flooded our country is the sheer audacity of people with a median IQ approximately that of a dolphin to claim to know the truth. And they do so with impunity. They don't have questions, they just have answers. They only seek out facts that support their already predetermined views. They can't see both sides of the coin if you flip it in front of their face. I criticize myself about how I see the world sometimes. I question everything and take very little at face value. There's usually at least 3 sides to every story and you can argue that either all or none of them are the truth, it's a matter of perception and interpretation. It can also be a matter of culture, geographical location, ethnicity, religious beliefs (or lack thereof), etc. As a result I try to be open minded and in all honesty, maybe even too much so. Until someone's actions hurt others I tend to with withhold judgement and maybe sometimes I could take a stand more. But I'm not always so certain, I'm not always so easily defined and my ego doesn't require that I be right. So I'm ok with different opinions as long as you allow me to have mine. I'm easy going that way. And that's MY truth.

I know where I'm going and I know the truth, and I don't have to be what you want me to be. I'm free to be what I want. - Muhammad Ali

Damn straight.

The Sifting of the Wheat: Love v. Friendship

It's a complicated world and all the trouble that it engenders
leaves no time to lean upon false prophets or pretenders
I salute those who physically, mentally and spiritually defend us
We need the real saviors to unite like the Avengers...

I mentally lean upon my friends and family a lot. If that sounds like a strange way to phrase it, allow me to explain. I don't like asking for help a lot. I don't tend to talk about my real issues or what's bothering me emotionally. I typically explain/justify that by the rationale that I am a classic overthinker: anything that's bothering me goes through my head dozens, hundreds, thousands of times when I'm alone so when I have company I generally want some peace from my mental masochism. And without a wife, kids or particular hobbies to occupy my time I actually have too much free time to overthink and brood on my first world problems that would have gotten me slapped in the 1950s. Of course any psychiatrist worth the frame around their diploma could probably tell you it's just as much a matter of being embarrassed by my issues and not wanting to appear weak to others as it is needing a break from my own brain. Perhaps. But I refuse to return Dr. Phil's calls. 

My family came down (up? over?) to Pittsburgh last week for my niece Kelsey's first birthday. Well technically the one year anniversary of her birthday, I don't want to anger the Facebook grammar nazis. As usual the visit by my parents, joined this time by my Aunt from the idyllic crime capital of St. Louis, was a personal dichotomy of grateful, blessed happiness and a sort of lonely melancholy, which is enhanced when they leave. This happens every time. I love the time I spend with them and I'm unimaginably grateful but I'm also a bit saddened because I know the time is short and when it's over I'll be missing a part of who I am. I imagine it's what James Harrison feels on the last game of the NFL season kowing he has no more quarterbacks to hit and will have to wait months for a legal outlet to his violent tendencies. James and I have so much in common...

We get confused for one another all the time... 

What I'm thinking is that I subconsciously draw a line between those I love and those I consider friends. The ones I love I lean on mentally and emotionally, even if I don't tell them as such all the time. When I'm dealing with issues internally I have a tendency to withdraw from friends to a degree. Partially because I don't want to burden them with my issues and partially because it's hard for me to be the vivacious, fun, charismatic Kulifay they've all come to know and tolerate when my mind is on weightier matters. I catch myself sometimes realizing that I'm not making contact as much as perhaps I should and to some friends I may owe an apology. Of course some of them are probably grateful of the absence of communication and if they're one of the 4 people reading this they may be going "NOOOOOOOO!" right this very moment. But I digress.

I need the people I love even more than they realize. They are the ones who change my day with a phone call, a text message, a Facebook post or whatever. They are the ones who remind me I've got people who love me when I'm the type of person who can feel alone in a crowded room. I may isolate myself on occasion but I am not an island. Unfortunately I sometimes unintentionally pressure those I love with my expectations but I think that's normal. Most people have different ideas of what's required in any kind of relationship whether it be friendship, romantic, family, coworker, acquaintence or drug dealer-drug user. So the next time you buy weed or vicodin from someone just remember: maybe he wanted you to ask him how his day was, show you care a little. You never know.

We each make our own clique of those we love, though it's not predetermined and it's not always easy or obvious. Not everyone we love is family and not everyone who's family may be someone we love. Some friends may be family to us emotionally, some family may be strangers. Consciously or subconsciously we all sift the people in our lives. The difference to me is this: friendships enrich our lives, but the people we love we can't live without.

To my friends who have lost loved ones recently. I hate cliche's and I know sometimes the standard lines are hard to hear but with full honesty my heart is with you even if you don't realize it or I haven't known how to say it. Your losses make me appreciate those I love all that much more and you're all in my thoughts and prayers.

  

The McRib Deviation

Keep sayin' you wanna be better, well tell me what's stoppin' ya?
The truth is at the lunch table alone, it was never very popular
We're all huntin' for answers,  but excuses make it harder to see
No judgement, I'll paint the first target on me...

Today is an anniversary of sorts. Not one to be proud of, brag about or really discuss openly but some of you will understand. I'm not trying to be vague or mysterious and if anyone wants to discuss it with me privately I'll be more than happy to. But the details aren't important here. Instead, I'll delve into something far, far more important.

I haven't set foot in a McDonald's in over 15 months. No Big Macs, no dollar menu doubles. No cokes, fries or apple pies. No horror-story made McNuggets. And, most importantly, no breakfast sandwich of the gods, the McGriddle...divinity wrapped in a syrup-infused pancake bun. Nope, not a one. With one exception. One terrible exception that gnaws away at me like a tapeworm. And if all the product and nutritional information were brought to light it would probably be just as disgusting:

Yep. I ate a McRib.  

2011 was a tumultuous year in the life of yours truly but from mistakes and hardships came growth and blessings as well. I have made progress in my health in the past year plus and rarely eat fast food (and by 'fast food' I mean burger-based establishments only...no one takes Taco Bell away from me). I still have a ways to go before I'm satisfied, and truly healthy, but I like to think I took life's lemons and made sugar-free lemonade. I feel better physically, emotionally and spiritually and as tough as last year may have been to go through I don't think I'd change it if I had a Delorean and the 1.21 gigawatts necessary to power it. I'm better today than I was before. And, let's face it, I was pretty damn good before.

But I ate a McRib. And THIS is the man responsible:

He looks like my friend, right? Raising a glass to the camera, both of us with the too-cool-to-smile-for-the-camera smirk on our faces. But he's the man who under the guise of friendship brought me the devil's own sandwich, the patriarch of processed pork products, the McDonald's McRib, to my workplace where I had little choice but to accept and to indulge. Oh, and he also brought fries. And orange soda. What kind of friend does that?
But enough patting myself on the back (I'm still not that flexible) and blaming others for calorie laden slip-ups. I haven't kept all the promises I made or met all the goals I had in mind on June 1st of last year. I've undoubtedly improved health wise but I've also backtracked much more so than I intended. Story of my life. I've also not made the changes I anticipated in other aspects of my life. Socially, romantically, emotionally, financially, I'm still very much a work in progress (as always, line forms to the left, ladies). I haven't kept up on this blog as much as I'd like, or as much as I tell myself all three of you reading this would like me to either. I need to take this anniversary as an opportunity to get back on track. To reclaim the man I used to think I was and who I believe I can be again, but only better. Only healthier. Only happier. Only more at peace. I need to be who me without worrying what everyone else thinks so much. Because from what I see, and I mean this as respectfully as possible, most of you do what the fuck you want and don't give a shit what I think anyway (I feel the swear words make the point more poignant). I try too hard for some people and not enough for others. And I don't try hard enough for myself.

I can do this. And more importantly, to your world anyway, I plan on making all of you listen to it as I boast, bitch, question, rant, philosophize, pontificate and generally ignore your pleas for mercy and silence. Because, like every other blogger and Facebook poster whether they admit it or not, I'm doing this for me.

And frankly, that's a good thing. Happy anniversary to me. And no more McRibs...CJ Johnson.



Status Madness: The Facebook Bracket

While people on Facebook post about their March Madness brackets, allow me to present my tournament bracket for Facebook, baaabbbyyy! (see what I did there?) 16 of the top status update topics square off to see who can cut down the virtual nets of social media dominance. Allow me to present our first round matchups and seedings:

(1) Music Videos & Song Lyrics: A prominate liberal-arts school this state-funded institution is sponsored by YouTube. It's student body can graduate without producing any work of their own simply by transferring credits from elsewhere. Known for diversity within the team, it's roster comes from all over; the country, the inner city, the suburbs and even occasionally overseas.
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(16) Support of Family and Friends: A small but prestigious institution that made it into the competition due to its heartfelt dedication, supportive faculty and school spirit. They focus on the situations of others rather than on their own game making them the longest of longshots but it's still a feel-good story just for making it into the tourney. You root for them, but rarely have them going far in your bracket.

ANALYSIS: The nation will be behind Support of Family and Friends but they'll have a hard time holding off the wave after wave of updates Music Videos & Song Lyrics brings. A consensus pick for the #1 seed.

(2) Breaking News and Current Events: The TMZ of status updates, this team only plays at popular events. Widely known for being there during celebrity deaths it also steps up during tragedies, elections, in-the-moment causes and other commonly known events. In the off chance you missed any news networks, radio stations, informative websites, human interaction and don't have a working telephone their status updates are there to keep you informed. Often highly penalized for social infractions.
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(15) Crass Proclamation of Edginess: See a previous blog for the class itinerary of this team. Another Vegas longshot what they lack in quantity they make up for in aggression. The gameplan? Get into the other team's head. Typically with an attacking style of pointless bragging and swear words.

ANALYSIS: When they're on there's almost no stopping Breaking News and Current Events. Crass Proclamation of Edginess will do its damndest, and talk crazy trash while doing it, but the odds are stacked against them.

(3) Day-To-Day Minutia: Often mocked this team shows up to the tournament year after year by practicing day after day. There's no excitement, no flash, no sizzle and typically no point. But if you feel the need to know when someone bought new khakis this is the team that will bring it.
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(14) Desperate Pleas For Attention: This is the team NO ONE wants to face; cries for help, statements of depression, ridiculous claims and even occasional paranoia...there's no way to gameplan a defense. An infrequent entry into the tournament their odd attacking style, ranging from threats of suicide to asking whether genital piercings would make them more desirable, always make them a wild-card.

ANALYSIS: Desperate Pleas For Attention typically plays in an empty arena while the crowd for Day-To-Day Minutia simply doesn't care about the game going on. Still, someone has to win and the #3 seed is heavily favored.

(4) Varying-Degrees-of-Informed Political Statements: The most pretentious of teams, its fanbase ranges from so liberal they should have a font called 'Hemp' to those who think McCarthy was too soft. And everyone on the team is convinced they could be the head coach calling the shots. Even the ones who still think we elected Colin Powell in '08.
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(13) Location: This team of updates is anywhere and everywhere at once. They bring nothing to the table, they just tell you where the table is at.

ANALYSIS: Varying-Degrees-of-Informed Political Statements is either loved or hated but Location just doesn't seem to have the firepower to bring them down.

(5) Sporting Event or Athlete Support/Derision: Not concerned with academics this team is all about root, root, root for the home team and display your hatred of your rivals. Preview/review of games, analysis of particular players, criticisms and suggestions for the front office, it's all there and has a national following. Sidney Crosby gets more mentions in Pittsburgh than Jesus. Which segues nicely into...
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(12) Religious or Spiritual: This team's strategy swings from wonderful use of faith to support everyone involved in the game to utilizing their sense of superiority to actually referee the games themselves. When their hearts are truly in it this team is more blessed than anyone else in the tournament but sometimes they seem more focused on what happens when the game is over.

ANALYSIS: Closer than the seeding implies, we're calling potential upset on this one. As the Peyton Manning signing winds down Sporting Event or Athlete Support/Derision loses one of its most potent weapons. 

(6) Food, Beverage & Fun: A team of (somewhat) functioning alcoholics this party school always fields an entertaining squad, if never quite as entertaining as they themselves think they are. This team is more concerned with sharing their favorite drinks, posing for the cameras, saying what fun they're having at the game and getting on Sportscenter than they are about accomplishing anything but would we have it any other way?
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(11) Movie/Television Reviews/Discussions: I have never seen The Walking Dead but I feel like I know it better than Seinfeld due to the 47 posts I see before and after it airs. If I had a dollar for every 'Jerzday' reference on Facebook I could retire and build the bacon house I've always longed for. This team lacks depth on the bench but damn if they're not fun to watch.

ANALYSIS: Movie/Television Reviews/Discussions has a solid lineup but Food, Beverage & Fun brings it every day, especially on weekends.

(7) Weather: The favorite team of fans without windows or doors in their home this university has a top-notch meteorology school. If it's snowing, they'll let you know. If it's raining they'll let you know. But their well-rounded skill set isn't limited to precipitation. They can handle temperature, cloud cover, visibility, humidity and recognize thunder and lightning. A safe play in your bracket.
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(10) Inspirational: An up and coming squad popularized by the exercise-inclined and the heatbroken. From pictures of physically fit people in vigorous activity (while we look at Facebook) to motivational quotes encouraging us to overcome life's challenges. This team may not be a favorite to win it all but they're always good for encouraging ass slaps and post-game hugs.

ANALYSIS: Weather has the higher seeding but it's ripe for an upset. Inspirational is on the rise and we feel they take this round. Plus some of their pictures are really, really hot. 

(8) Games and Apps: Farmville, Castleville and any other ville that drives non-gamers insane can be found on this team.They recruit from the finest, and unfinest, applications that Facebook has to offer and they're not afraid to encourage you all to join. There's not scholarships or tryouts, you just have to show up. And then recruit like it's a pyramid scheme.
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(9) Help Requests: This team has a lot of question marks at every position. They will often call on the crowd for help with everything from home improvement repairs, a bass player for their band, the proper way to treat syphilis to a good grilled cheese recipe. There's no way to guess how far this team can go but you can be assured they won't do it alone.

ANALYSIS: Hands down the least interesting matchup in the bracket, it won't even be posted on Facebook. Who has the edge? The better question is who cares?

Sure it may lack the excitement, athleticism and Dick (Vitale) of the college basketball March Madness bracket, and I'm clearly too lazy to do 64 teams so we skipped straight to the Sweet 16, but still...I kept my promise.

While I'm sure she'd rather have no association with this blog a special thanks goes to Kiernan Gabos Faulhaber for her topic suggestion. There is no other prize. Just the shame of being mentioned here.

The Someday Blog

My life is unwritten, my future is what I make it
My past may be imperfect but it lead me here so I'll take it
What if I could no longer paint the picture of me, what if I couldn't fake it?
If my clothes of conscience were stripped, and I stood before you naked...

(editor's note: after looking back over this blog it kind of reads a little more negatively than I truly intended. It is not meant to be negative, suggest that I'm unhappy or put you into a clinical depression by reading it. My original intent was just to briefly discuss the important things in my mind that I've been hesitant to write as most of my blogs have been more humorous and light-hearted. It is also a matter of motivating myself by putting what I want to achieve out there. Do not contact any medical professionals on my behalf.)

Maybe someday I will write a blog that will tell you about me the best that my limited talent allows.

Maybe someday I will write a blog that tells you how much my failures at love have hurt me, and the pain I struggle with more frequently then I ever want to let on. Maybe someday I'll open up completely to the women I couldn't make it work with and we'll come to an understanding, free of judgement and criticism. Maybe someday I'll find peace in that aspect of my life.

Maybe someday I will write a blog that lets my parents know how much they truly mean to me and how blessed I've been. Maybe someday I'll tell them that my failures were not theirs, that they gave me all the gifts and opportunities anyone could ask for. Maybe someday they'll know how amazing they are.

Maybe someday I will write a blog that tells my brother how I think he's a better me if only a bit shorter. Maybe someday I'll explain to him how I could have followed his example in a lot of ways and made things easier for myself.

Maybe someday I'll be able to show my friends how much I appreciate them and how I couldn't be surrounded with a better group of people to learn from, share experiences and count on when I need them. Maybe someday I'll be able to repay them.

Maybe someday I'll have the answers to my faith. Or maybe someday I'll truly grasp that it's faith and just appreciate that some things cannot be answered. Maybe someday I'll be satisfied that I'm living a worthwhile life in the eyes of God.

Maybe someday I'll settle into a career that brings me satisfaction. Maybe someday I'll feel that I'm utilizing the gifts I've been given and that I'm truly making a difference.

Maybe someday I will be completely without fear in regards to submitting what I write to the public. Maybe someday I really won't care at all what anyone thinks about it and be content that it's mine.

Maybe someday I will truly dedicate myself to being healthy and fit. Maybe someday I'll be proud of myself when I look in a mirror.

Maybe someday I'll get organized. Maybe someday I'll keep my day-to-day life in order like an adult.

Maybe someday I'll develop this blog into something with a direction, with focus and with a purpose. Maybe someday this blog will be something you share and talk about from time to time. Maybe someday this blog will make a difference.

Maybe I'll make this all happen.

Better yet, no maybes.

Someday.