My Sim had another baby. His wife and him were really excited. I've been playing with this same family for awhile. I decided to make this family and then live vicariously through them, which is great because when the child poops or is hungry, the parent feeds him and changes his diaper and everything is good again. Just like raising real children, right? I think there might be some slight differences between my gaming life and real life...just a few. One difference that actually has got me thinking a lot lately is my Sim wife. I created a beautiful woman and then, bonus, I got to choose her traits and what she likes and and it's great. I am getting to a point in my life where I'm becoming complacent. I enjoy being single. I enjoy spending time with myself. I've forgotten about my real desire. My dream. One day, I want to hold a baby in my arms that doesn't have to be passed back to it's parents. I want a child that will do things that make me think, "Ha ha, that is so me." I think the problem is that I want that child so much I forgot the process of actually OBTAINING that child. AKA: a wife. The problem is, I'm pretty amazing. (I wish you could be here to hear the uncontrollable laughter attached to even the slightest thought that I was being serious when I said that last sentence.) I mean, I am a pretty agreeable guy, especially when it comes to making decisions with myself. I like the same movies as myself and I like the same food as myself. I make a pretty good point and so I'm pretty quick to agree with points that I have made. If I need to cut back on some spending, I argue with myself and pout for a moment and then realized that I'm right and that I need to find a way to cut back. I get my sense of humor, if any, and I am happy with my wardrobe. Adding another person to the equation might just mess me up. I'm awful at math and so equations were never my strong suit. I worry that my wife won't be a perfect fit. I also worry that I won't be the perfect man she wants or needs. I can't fix the plumbing, I would be terrible at changing her tires on her car, and I'm pretty sure that my strengths lie in being a housewife. I'm more Mrs. Cleaver than Mr. Cleaver is what I'm getting at here. Then there's the whole mess of compromising with another person and agreeing to disagree and establishing rules for our children. I'm also far too picky. I'm afraid I'm going to just specify myself right out of a future companion. I guess the important things are what I need to focus on: she must love me, love God, and love children. Then, if she loves to wear a black and white polka-dot dress with bright red shoes, that's a bonus. If I walk into the room and she takes my breath away while she's doing the dishes or doing laundry in fuzzy slippers and sweatpants, that's a bonus. If I want to change things up a bit by adding sprinkles and whipped cream to our pancakes in the morning and she thinks that's just about the greatest thing ever, that's another bonus. If she knows the words to "I'm the Greatest Star" or "The Trolley Song" and will sing along with me (but not butcher them like I do) then there's another bonus. But maybe something I'm forgetting are the unexpected bonuses that I may not know about. Maybe that's what makes a bonus so exciting is when it's not planned on and it adds a new dimension that you didn't see before. Maybe the fact alone that she will love me for the rest of our lives and into eternity should be the ultimate bonus. Maybe I'm over thinking things like I always do. I need to come to terms with the fact that love is not a romantic comedy sometimes. Sometimes it's dirty diapers, overdrawn bank accounts, disagreeable in-laws, and fighting over whether to get a cat or a dog. (we're getting a cat.) It's a balance between relishing in the good times, and learning and growing from the bad times and I guess once I can find that balance, I'll be ready to start on the road to...gulp...dating and eventual marriage so that I can have my perfectly imperfect life. A life that will make my Sim's jealous.

An interesting thing happened to me recently. Have you ever played 'The Sims?' Basically, the premise of the game is to make a person or a family and then you build them a house, give them life aspirations, and see how their life plays out. At least that is how it is supposed to work. You may also create a distractingly ugly person for the sheer humor and then place them in a double-wide with the life aspiration to become the king of their pig-pen lifestyle, planting your figurative flag into the ever-increasing mountain of garbage growing in your home. I must say that my favorite part of 'The Sims' is creating an individual who is rough around the edges and then placing them in a poor home that has lots of potential. Then, once that Sim has reached an appropriate level of self-deeming success, I simply create a new Sim. Similarly, Guy has reached the maximum level of success I see fit for him. He is a world-renown actor, an irresistible play-boy, and so rich he wipes his nose with Benjamins and has a different car for every day of the week. So it's time for me to 'make a new Sim' as it were. I used to have dreams of being someone different. Someone important. Someone that the world looked up to and was even quite jealous of. My reason for this escape was because it was just that. It was an escape. An escape from my problems and the pains I was feeling in this life. Guy could do so much more than Brent ever could hope for. If there was something I didn't like about my life, I would simply change it in my head. Brent, you are poor...well...Guy is rich. Brent, you aren't getting attention from guys and girls that you want...well...Guy is loved by everyone, more importantly, Guy is DESIRED of by everyone. Guy had it all I thought. Brent had nothing. The interesting thing that happened to me recently is that I noticed something about my life. In sticking with 'The Sims' analogy; in the game you can, at least in 'The Sims 3', you can change your Sim's lifetime aspiration. So instead of being a celebrity they can hope for a lot of friends, an amazing garden, or to own 70 cats or something. Something else they can hope for is a family. That's something Brent can hope for. So, I'm 'creating a new Sim.' I realized in my life that fame and fortune are something that is dwindling as a hope for my future; partially because I will never attain either, but also because I have bigger plans. I noticed that in my Sim gaming I always had that same pattern. Create a Sim who is rough around the edges, place them into a poor place that has lots of potential, reach that potential, and then start over with a new Sim. I liked this because the fun was not having a huge mansion and a yacht and a killer body and nice hair and thousands of friends and...well..you get the picture. The fun in the game was reaching that success. I found joy in the journey. It's quite boring, at least for me, to cheat in the game and give my Sim everything he ever wanted. At that point, the game is over. There is nothing exciting for me to do anymore. So, I'm creating a new Sim. His name is Brent and, though he is rough around the edges and is in a poor place in regards to where he thought he could be, he has a LOT of potential. I thought I could make a blog without mentioning religion. Without bring God into it. I thought 'people will hate that. People will get turned off by that and tune out.' Well, the problem with that, which, really isn't a problem...is that I need God in everything. God understands the need for rough edges, lifetime aspirations that may not come when you want them or maybe even when YOU think you need them. God helps you to reach your potential and, thanks to Christ, you can always start over with a new Sim all the time. I'm excited for this new Sim. Brent will have a family. He will serve others (or at least try.) Brent will be rich; rich in children and the joys that they bring that you can't put a price on. Brent will have a super wonderful Sim wife. She, uh... she doesn't have a name yet, but God made her for me and right now He is working on her the same way He is working on me. The same way I work with my Sims and make them better. That's the fun part. That is the challenging part. Guy was fun for awhile, but I tend to think about a wife and children now more than I do of fame and fortune. I think of baby bottles and date nights instead of Champagne and Broadway auditions (although that doesn't stop me from singing 'I'm the Greatest Star' in my car all the time.) I think of tears of joy from holding my first baby and tears of sadness when my wife and I fight over how we are going to make ends meet rather than thinking of the temporary pleasure from sexual conquests and fighting with my agent over not getting a million dollars an episode for my hit T.V. show. So for those of you who enjoyed watching the life of Guy, I'm glad you enjoyed the ride. But for those who want to tune in next time for the exciting story of Brent, I'm glad you want to join me and am looking forward to the new story we can start together.

The sun comes up over the south of France. I step out onto my yacht and yawn and stretch and take a look at the glorious life I lead. "Crepes, sir?" my assistant asks. "Why, sure. Oh, and an omelet. And some sausages. Oo, oo, and also some fresh fruit, you know, gotta be healthy." Not that it matters. I eat and eat and stay thin and tan and gorgeous. Next stop, Paris for some shopping. After that, head over to London and do some serious eating of...whatever they have in England. Take a stop off in Egypt and see some pyramids and end off holding a koala bear in Australia. Good vacation. I returned home from my first official vacation in about 7 years. Unlike, "Guy", I did not go to the Caribbean or Ireland or.... Pittsburgh? No, I went to southern California. I forgot how freeing the salty beach air can be or how great it is to wear a swimsuit and flip-flops all day and not having to worry about doing my hair. I got a tan that is now peeling...a lot. It will be gone in a few days, I'm sure of it. I had a couple of thoughts upon my return from my vacation. 1- I'm glad I'm not Guy. I'm glad that I don't have a yacht and millions of dollars to take a vacation whenever I want. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's true. One of the reasons I loved my vacation so much was because I appreciated it. I worked so hard for that time off (and I am still working hard to make up for the loss of income while ON vacation!) I guess you can look at it this way: if you never ate cheesecake, you would never know the complete joy that comes from the caramelly, delicious, sweet, melt in your mouth taste of cheesecake (aaaaand now I want cheesecake) in comparison, if you had cheesecake for every meal, you would get sick of it (...maybe...doubtful...but maybe) I suppose what I'm saying is you that have to experience the pain to really love the pleasure. You have to do without in order to appreciate the...with, as it were. 2-Home is where the heart is (and the family!) I loved my vacation, but about 7 days into it, I really started to miss my nieces and nephews. I missed the talks with my uncle. I missed the wonderful friends at work. I missed the routine and I missed my stuffed turtle! I realized that nothing: not the epic waves, the tasty fish tacos at Pedro's or the incomparable pastrami sandwiches at The Hat, the warm sand on my feet, and the smell of salty beach air; none of that can compare to the sound of my aunt's laugh at a funny story that happened to her, the way my niece calls her brother, "cookie!" the smile that I get from my nephew that makes my mom jealous, and the sound of friends saying, with a smile, "Hi Brent!" when I walk into work. I'm heading to Japan in October and I'm so excited, but I know that my heart will never be far from the place I love and the people that make it home.

I've taken to dating myself. Explanation? Well. Here's how it goes. Since I decided to move on and move up in my life and get into a better place spiritually, I've made some big changes. Many won't understand the reasons why and I can't explain them to anyone because I don't know anyone like me. I will say that I believe certain things. These beliefs make it useless for me to pursue a relationship with a guy. In addition, I am not interested in girls. Where does this leave me? Well, many in this situation would say "hopelessly alone" and they would be half right. I am alone. This does not mean I am lonely. I still have my parents, my sisters, my brother, my friends, my nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles, co-workers. The amount of people I DO have in my life is actually rather overwhelming sometimes to think about. I guess other people would probably think about "who am I going to hold when I'm sad?" or "I haven't kissed anyone in six months." I suppose that those are valid points, but I'm lucky I guess in that I am not one for kissing or cuddling. I like a good back scratch, but I have friends and family for that (Am I dropping hints...maybe. Probably. Yes, yes I would love a back scratch please.) I guess that's one blessing I can gain from the fact that I've resigned myself to being single for...well...ever. The blessing being that I don't particularly need kisses, sex, or cuddles but opt for hugs and back scratches (seriously, if anyone wants to volunteer.) And I'm not hopeless. I hope for a future filled with family activities. I hope for a future filled with dinner parties, road trips, and sleep overs. I hope for a relationship with my family, friends, and God that I can be proud of and enjoy. This doesn't mean that I still get the sympathetic look and that 'comforting' phrase "you will find someone!" When did this become a need? Have we always been a people who need a girlfriend, husband, lover, or an innumerable amount of cats for us to be complete? Is there some sort of bug in my system or a defect in my physical make-up that causes me to be content as a single man? Did the cave man tell his buddy upon a break-up "Dude, she no good for you. Me find you better lady. She be prettier." I just don't understand when it became a social step backwards to be single. I mean, if you think about it, we've been told since our beginnings that we are destined to be a 'you and me' and not 'I.' We are born at the same time as one of our parent's friend's kid and they say to each other "ooooh, I think they are going to marry each other some day!" How well did that work out for you? We throw sand at the girl at the park and the girl hears "oh, it's just cuz he likes you." No, I'm pretty sure I threw sand at her, cuz the trollop took my dump-truck. It doesn't mean we are destined to be together. It's sad that we get sad when someone we know is single. Is it offense if I tell my heartbroken friend "well, I'm sorry he broke up with you, but at least you can be alone now." She probably wouldn't be too happy about that...but I don't know why she wouldn't be. Why wouldn't she be happy at the prospect of being with the one person that she truly understands. The one person who truly will love her for all of her faults and all of her amazing talents. The one person that can appreciate her: herself. I was sitting with my stuffed turtle, Checkers, on my bed watching "the kid" (No, not the one with Bruce Willis like my mom thought.) and I said to Checkers (don't make fun, at least he listens to me) "Checkers, I'm pretty sure no one else out there is doing this right now." I think that a lot. I don't know anyone who's idea of a fantastic and fulfilling Friday night is making a 7-11 run for donuts and nachos and then coming home and watching a Bette Davis movie. (Bytheway 'Dark Victory'....good movie, rent it if you get a chance.) I don't think I know anyone who sings "Don't sit Under the Apple Tree" or "Mambo Italiano" loudly in their car. I have a crush on Tommy Kirk and Tony Dow (When they were younger, obviously). Go ahead, Google them. I got excited when I found an Alice in Wonderland coloring book. I talk to my stuffed turtle. I think I've made my point. I'm unusual. But you know what? I wouldn't have me any other way. If you can find me a girl who misses the Meg Ryan from "Sleepless in Seattle" and "You've got mail", who thinks that Sandra Bullock's best role was in "While you were Sleeping", who has a family or who wants a family like Toula Portokalos in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", who thinks that Judy Garland's version of 'Puttin on the Ritz' is the best version out there, and who becomes emotional when they reach the awful realization that one day Julie Andrews, Barbra Streisand, and Debbie Reynolds will die....if you can find that girl, let me know. She'll be about 1/100th of the way there to reaching my level of quirkiness, strangeness, misunderstood...ness(?) and wonderfulness. Many out there will still not understand. They still won't get my message. My message is simple...and cheesy, but I love simplicity and I love cheese so I will state my message. Love yourself. Find that relationship with yourself that you would love to have with another person. Go on a date with yourself. YOU pick the restaurant, YOU pick the movie, and YOU pick what you wear (I choose a sweater and slacks because I live by the philosophy that a comfy pair of nice slacks is heaven.) Decide what you like and, more importantly who you are. Are you an artist? Are you political? Are you a couch potato? Does 'Finding Nemo' make you cry? Do you hate spicy food? Are you an activist? Do you like the roll of toilet paper over or under? These are the important things you should know about yourself. I'm not political. I hate action movies. I prefer the t.p. over, but I'm okay with it under. 'Finding Nemo' Doesn't make me cry, but 'Mr. Holland's Opus' gets me every time. (When he sings to his son, Cole...yea...I sniffle...a lot) I'm funny, creative, lazy, complicated, simple, kind-hearted, shy, and single. And I'm okay with that. With ALL of that.

"What are my plans for today, Garrett?" I ask my 19 year-old, blonde, toned, and highly attractive man-servant/secretary. "Well. 6:30 to 7:30 you are having breakfast with Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter before the sun comes up." "They do hate that sunlight," I think aloud. "8:00 to 10:00, yoga and MMA training" "Naturally" "10:30 to 11:45, meeting with Quentin Tarantino to discuss new film. I believe he's turning the Grand Theft Auto games into movies. You'll be playing some sort of ladies man...good luck with that." Garrett says with a bit too much of a hint of sarcasm. "12:00 to 1:30ish, lunch with Kate Winslet, but you know how much she adores you so it will probably last til 3." "I do adore Kate..." I say with a loving sigh "3:00 to 3:15, dentist appointment" "cancel it. I'll just buy new teeth if mine get too bad." "Ooookay, cancel that. 5:30 to 8:45, you have that party at Justin Timberlake's home, Make sure to wear your suit and tie...aaaand that leaves the rest of the night open to do whatever you'd like with me..." BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP. "UGH!" I growl at my alarm clock and practically throw it across the room to show my hatred. I ooze my way to the bathroom, pray I'm making it in the middle and not all over the sides, ooze back to my room and remember: oh wait..I don't have to work today. Now it's 8:00 and I have nothing to do all day. Once I'm up, I'm up. It sucks, but that's what happens to me. Unlike Guy who has his entire day planned out for him by a mouth-watering secretary, I have an entire day of scrolling down Pinterest, stalking people on Facebook, and searching You-tube for videos of Jennifer Lawrence. (seriously, this girl is hilarious.) A few days prior to this, I decided I was going to be more proactive in my search to find meaningful and/or entertaining things to do with my day that don't require me to be glued to a computer, eye-bags turning a deep shade of purple and a string of drool down to my keyboard like some 21st century Izombie. Day one:gardening. I got on my dirtiest pair of khaki pants and my least favorite of my sweater-vests and put my ipod to my "indie" playlist and went outside to begin work. I went out to the shed to find some hoes (haha, I'll let you visualize the other meaning of that sentence for a second...ok, you back? moving on.) and some shovels or something, and found a cute, little box with a bunch of...pipes or something in it. So I emptied out all of the plastic-pipe looking things and put together my own "gardening box." I gathered up some seeds, potting soil, gloves and a small shovel (apparently these are called spades...you know...like on the playing cards) Then I headed out to the sad little piece of dirt and rocks that would be called my new garden. The place I picked actually wasn't too bad. I had to remove some rocks, weeds, and grass to get to the dirt, but managed to finally get some earth for my garden. "let's see...radishes. Radishes sound great." So, I opened the little packet of radish seeds and realized that they are really small! Amazing that a radish can come from something so small...(then I thought of how small babies are and how small kittens are and how cute it would be if I got a kitten and it had white paws, but a black body and I could name it mittens. AWW! Sorry...gardening, right.) Not knowing how to plant seeds, I just dug a hole and put like 5 seeds in the hole. Then I read the back of the packet: "best time to plant is after the last frost; beginning of April or May." I guess I'll be back out in a month to start gardening. Day Two: Running.I thought it might be kinda sexy to do some running. I mean, you see those guys in the commercials running shirtless on the beach and they are super hot, right? so I put on my new Adias shoes (okay...thrift store shoes, but they're new to me!) and put on some jean shorts and my tightest fitting T-shirt, put my ipod to my "dance, dance" playlist and started my run. Cut to me ten minutes later heaving back into my house, drool and spit hanging from my mouth, feet swelling to the size of large cantaloupes, Buddha belly hanging out of my WAY too small to be sexy t-shirt, heaving like an asthmatic 82 year old who started smoking 4 packs a day since he was 12, and smelling of sweat and tears and shame. I crawled my way to the bathroom and as I began to heave violently, I thought about my 10 minute run from hell. "maybe I shouldn't have eaten that McDonalds big breakfast with the side of pancakes and two glasses of orange juice." Such has also been my experience with other things that I'm trying to find to do. Read a book: fell asleep, Go shopping: broke, build a snowman: no snow, sing: terrible voice, take a nap: see 'read a book' I wish I had a life that was scheduled from moment to moment. But then I might miss out on the little things that come up. My sister invited me to go get some breakfast. My uncle and I had a talk about spiritual defenses. My dad and I went and got girl scout cookies. All of these were unplanned opportunities to strengthen my relationships around me. Relationships that are more important than some blonde haired, blue eyed secretary and a morbid breakfast with the Burton-Bonham-Carters. These unexpected moments in life are what make a life one worth living. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that we shouldn't schedule too much into our lives that miss out on the opportunities to really live.

Well, I'm back from the dead...almost quite literally. I was ill for about 2 weeks. Being sick is the WORST. It's not cute. I watched "you've got mail." Meg Ryan, you are a liar. I wish I looked as good as Meg Ryan when I was sick. I wish I looked as fabulous as Emily Blunt did in "Devil Wears Prada" when she was sick. She did have the right description about my illness though, "It's like death, warmed up." It's such an inconvenience. It's like the universe is telling you, "you need to take it easy. You need to relax. You need the flu." Well you know what, universe? I'm not going to do that! I'm going to continue to go to work! I'm going to help my ex move! (another story entirely) I'm going to continue to dance and work out until I pass out! ...This is why I've been sick for 2 weeks. I've realized something, though, while I was confined to bed, watching "The Office" and tearing through a roll of toilet paper (I find toilet paper works better to blow your nose than flimsy Kleenex does...just something to keep in mind for your next cold.) I realized that my being sick wasn't the reason I wasn't doing anything with my life. I should explain maybe...At one point during my sickness, I shuffled out of the bathroom and into my room and took a look. I looked at my unmade bed that I would be plopping back into. I looked at the piles of laundry all over the floor, not remembering which pile was dirty and which was clean. I looked at my T.P.'d floor and the overflowing garbage. Then I yelled as loud as I could in my head, "I want my life back!!!" Then went back to sleep. I realized that being sick wasn't just the reason for me wanting my life back. I've been living at my parents for almost a month now and I am STILL not close to where I wanted to be. Of course, it helps to know WHERE you want to be and WHAT you want to do with your life. I'm still working on that. But, once I got better (thank you Sudafed and NyQuil.) I began figuring things out. I'm starting to go to church again, but I don't know that I want to be overly-religious. I was wanting to eat healthier, but I think that, instead, I'm just going to have a healthier view of my body (THAT one could take awhile.) I decided that I want to make my job my career and be there for the long haul. I love my job, why not stay there until I die? I also decided that I have a lot of friends that I'm neglecting. I'm a very independent person and hate making plans and committing to other people, but at this time in my life, I think that I need to be open to the idea of letting others in. So, instead of spending hours scrolling down pinterest (seriously... 'load more pins?' "why yes, of course, thank you.") I am working on going out with my family and inviting friends over for dinner. I even let my friends and family know how important they were to me on Facebook. (until Facebook kicked me off for 'suspicious activity.' Apparently you can't write nice things on 25 people's walls without sending up some red flags.) Now...am I where I want to be at in life? No. I still have a long way to go. My goal now is to enjoy the journey and try not to get sick again for a long time. Orange juice and multi-vitamins: I'm ready...

It's been a few weeks since my relationship with my partner ended. It's tough and it's taking a toll on me. Mostly on my body. I've been in a much longer relationship with food. That relationship is a love-hate relationship. I love food. It hates me and my body. I have been working out with a trainer for the last 6 days... I uh... I have not been working out with a trainer. But I have been working out with Wii Fit Plus for the last week. So far I've lost 2 pounds, then gained 1, then lost 2, then gained 4....basically I'm at the same place I was when I started. Despite this fact, I persevere. "as you're doing this exercise, imagine your ideal body." my video game trainer tells me. "oh I am," I yell at him, "and you know what!? I'm depressed now. Where's my Doritos?" "So Guy, of course you know what I'm going to ask you next," Graham Norton says, "how do you get a body like that?" I roll my eyes and chuckle at the question I've been asked a hundred times already. "Well, Graham. Basically I live off of a diet of tamales and cheesecake. I never work out, and most of the day I spend napping or laying in front of the t.v." The audience laughs and I laugh along, wishing that were true... I wish it were true. I wish that cheesecake was full of anti-oxidants and natural vitamins and minerals. I wish that for every 6 pack of soda I drink, another inch melts off my waist. And I wish that every time I got up in the morning counted for 1,000 crunches...that way, every morning I would get up and have immediately done a 1,000 crunches. 1,000 crunches every morning...Yea...I'd be set. In reality, 1 4 oz piece of cheesecake equals 4 lbs straight to my gut. 1 can of soda equals 1 pound of fat per man-boob. and every time I get up in the morning, my back creaks and my I let out a noise that, if I were underwater, would grab the attention of many a mating humpback whale. How do we do it? How are we expected to stay thin and beautiful when Alfredo sauce exists? How are we supposed to stay fit and trim when there's Modern Warfare to be played..(Okay...Sims 3. Never played Modern Warfare, but I felt I might have been losing some of you!) And how are we supposed to remain young and beautiful forever when there's that nagging invention of aging. (Just me, or when you look at the word aging, do you see AGG-ING? Moving on...) I don't think it's fair that celebrities can afford personal trainers. I'd look frickin amazing if I had a personal trainer to chew my butt off all day...probably have a smaller butt too. And it's not fair that celebrities have all sorts of money to spend on a ultra lean, farm fed, weight sucking chicken from the lush fields of... mmmm-montana..or something. If I could afford a week's worth of organic...well..organic ANYTHING, then I could lose weight too. But you know what? an organic red pepper costs 3 dollars. A frozen pizza costs 88 cents. And I know what you're thinking, "you're a boy, you don't have to worry about it." Oh really? Really? I think as a boy, I have to worry more. Thanks to Magic Mike and 50 Shades of Grey, ALL men have to worry more. Even TV isn't safe. I love Glee, but if Sam takes his shirt off one more time I'm going to cry.... half out of sadness, half because he's just so pretty. In a perfect world, I wouldn't need to worry about weight, muscle, or aging. But no one's perfect except Jesus and Jennifer Aniston (seriously, that woman can do no wrong. Have you seen her smart water ads?) so until then I will have to continue my Wii Fit regimen and eating an egg for breakfast, Wal-Mart chicken for lunch, and frozen light pizza for dinner. Seriously...88 cents.

"My next guest just won his fifth Academy Award and is currently starring in anything you have seen in theaters or will see in theaters: Guy Guest." "Hi Ellen Degeneres. Thanks so much for having me on." "Oh, Guy, you are quite the "in-demand" star these days so thank YOU for coming. So, tell us about this new movie you're in." "Well, Ellen, it's a hard hitting look at the political strife and biological warfare that is being utilized in eastern Asia and Africa." "Oh my. Well that sounds very deep and like it took a lot of time to get into that role and memorize such a highly intellectual script." "Oh it was, Ellen...it was." So, my best friend from my youth came over today. He brought me a copy of his new book. It's staring at me from my nightstand at the moment. I haven't read it yet, but I will be getting around to it. That and working out. And eating healthier. And surfing in Australia. And going shopping in Paris. And discovering a cure for a new virus I discovered. I'm actually super proud of my friend. The work that he went through to write, self-publish, and then distribute this novel is quite impressive. At the same time, I ponder upon the things I have accomplished, literary or otherwise. Aside from a cleverly worded Tweet or a witty retort to a facebook status, I'm pretty sure I've not written anything profound or life changing or even entertaining, for that matter. I have not yet discovered that virus or a cure for it. I can put together a pretty decent outfit, but that's not altering anyone's life. So what have I done? In my head, I like to think up story lines for movies. I have probably watched a total of 6 or 7 self-produced, written, cast, and directed movies so far. In the very rare case that these "films" will ever actually be recognized and actually come to fruition, I'm not going to disclose any plot lines or ideas. But I will say...they are epic. They are thought provoking and they are, sometimes, controversial; going where no film has ever gone before (no, none of them are science fiction) Today I shoveled the driveway for my parents. A fruitless act of service seeing as how the snow is falling so fast and thick that the driveway is now covered again. I bought lunch for my best friend (not the one who wrote the book) a few days ago. I'm poor now and he just bought me lunch today...sooo, kind of back to square one there. I saw a dog in the middle of the road and I stopped and let it walk in front of me. Did I get out of my car and help locate his owner? No, but I did let him live for a few more minutes...So I guess I did something for that dog. My point here? I don't think I will ever make a movie that will have people in tears; leaving the theater wanting to make a change in their lives. I will never save an old woman and her 29 cats from a burning building and be recognized as a hero. I will never write a novel that will eventually star Daniel Radcliffe, Jennifer Lawrence, or Kristen Stewart. (though I probably would be better off without that last one) In short, I can't make a big change on the world. But I'm trying...Starting with my parents, my best friend, and that homeless dog.

Sometimes, everybody needs to take step a back; To reevaluate their life. Hi, My names Brent and I'm one of those such individuals. My ten year high school reunion is this year and I have been thinking about what I would say when a girl I don't remember will ask me with a giant toothy grin, "oh my gosh, it's SOOOO good to see you! So, what have you been up to in the past ten years!!!??" "Oh, me? Well, as you know in high school I spent all of my time just disgustingly immersed in the world of theater, you know... acting. And, well, yea once I graduated I got a full ride scholarship to America's finest acting university where I was, of course, discovered and immediately became a heartthrob of the stage and screen. And well, now, I spend most of my time lounging about my La Jolla mansion and wondering why I need 3 Olympic size swimming pools and a coat made entirely of baby peacock feathers." Then I go back to reality: "Oh, well I graduated, served a Mormon mission, took a semester of study at College, failed EVERY single class, opted for a technical college, worked at an old folks home, got married to a boy, quit my job at a retirement home and got a different job I enjoy much more, divorced the boy I was with after 6 wonderful years of marriage, and, well, now I just spend most of my time renting a room out of my parent's home, living vicariously through my Sims 3 sims and wondering why I don't have 3 Olympic size swimming pools and a coat made entirely out of baby peacock feathers." Okay...so that sounds pretty depressing, I realize. It's not though. It's actually kind of refreshing. It's like...Okay, so have you ever been in line for a ride at an amusement park and it's like your next up for the ride and so you are standing behind those highly ineffective yet somehow still totally necessary gates. And while you're standing there, you are just imagining how wonderful the ride is going to be. Then the ride comes to a stop in front of you. Your turn. That's kind of where I'm at right now. Except in MY version, a kid has just thrown up and he was in the front and (we're gonna say the ride the is a roller coaster) and so his vomit has just systematically gone from face to face to face of everyone sitting behind him. So they have to shut down the ride for a moment to wash off the caked on puke, leaving me waiting for an even longer amount of time for my ride to begin...thanks pukey kid. Graphic, but you get the idea. Money is the vomit of my life. Apparently, you have to PAY to eat, to sleep, and to have a place to call home. I mean, unless you're a hobo, but even then I'm sure that hobo had to pay for those urine soaked shoes. Oh my gosh I would hate to be a hobo...wait, where was I? Oh right, money is vomit. So, until I can afford to move out, I get to live here. With my parents. It's not terrible. I mean, they knock before they enter my room and it is an interesting experience to fall asleep with the gentle, muffled voices of the cast of whatever Japanese movie my dad is listening to in the other room. However, it really isn't where I expected to be at 28. I stretch and yawn and am immediately revitalized. "Sir, you're personal trainer is here." "Thank you, Rumford, show him in." After an hour of working out, I shower and check out my Zac Efron body in the mirror. Damn, look at you, sir. You are a sexy beast. I slip on my Gucci loafers, Armani coat, and Oakley sunglasses and head out the door. "Call Chris." I calmly said into my 1,500 dollar phone...that was used as a prop on The Dark Knight movie. "Chris? Oh hey, my best friend Chris Colfer who is the star of Glee, one of the most popular shows on television. Where are we going for lunch today? Beso? You want to go to Beso, the restaurant owned by Eva Longoria? Why sure, Chris Colfer, my b.f.f. we can go there." The wind blows through my hair and I smile a gorgeous, bleach white smile. Oh Chris Colfer, my best buddy, you are so funny. Oh, goodness. Someone wants my autograph, no surprise there. I sign Guy Guest (the name I made up for myself knowing I would be an internationally known Superstar...you know like Madonna or Lady Gaga or Snookie) I blow a kiss and Chris rolls his eyes and looks at me with that oh, you. You silly fantastic celebrity, you look. I order my $11.00 cheesecake and begin to take a bite. A cool, creamy, delicious- "Honey! Dinner's ready!" "Coming mom." Well, gotta eat dinner now. It's not Beso, it's spaghetti. But for now...it's home.