When I hit my midlife crisis, I am buying this:

I’m trying to decide if I should sign-up for a Fall basketball league so I thought I would do a pros and cons list to try and persuade myself that it’s a bad idea.

Pro – I like basketball and was pretty good at it.

Con – WAS.

Pro - It’s a physical activity.

Con – Physical activities lead to excessive sweating and general grossness.

Pro – It will get me out of the house at least one night a week.

Con – I don’t know where they play until after I register and it could be really far away.

Pro - I would sign up as an individual player so I get to meet new people.

Con - But what if the new people suck?

Pro - There’s also a high probability that I will blow out either my knee(s) or ankle for good this time.

Con - Wait, how is that a ‘Pro’?

Pro - Surgery might be a possibility.

Con - ???

Pro - Stitches, scars, medical gear, and narcotic class painkillers.

Con - Looks like we’re playing basketball this Fall.

My niece is 7 months old and she’s already got her Facebook profile pic pose down pat.

Prefalling is what I like to call that moment before the fall. Clever bon-mot, don’t you think? It’s that ‘oh shit’ moment where you know you’re going down but all you can do is watch it inch along in slow-motion. I don’t want to be melodramatic but that’s a particular strength of mine so forgive me for the inevitable failure in the words to follow.

A few days ago I dug up my original sketch for my cutting in preparation of using it as a template for some new ink. If you force my hand, I will admit that every body modification I have came from a bit of a bad place but I try not to tell myself that too often so that I don’t look at my body art and start feeling horrid.

Then, watching an episode of Breaking Bad last night where Walt was sporting a hand full of bruised and bloodied knuckles from punching in a wall-fixture thingy I was overcome by a sense of jealousy. (Same thing happened the day before yesterday when Deb in Dexter hurt her hand on a punching bag.) When I was all angst-ridden in high school I used to walk down the hallways rapping my knuckles on the concrete walls until they bruised. I almost long for those times and the only thing that’s stopping me is the overabundance of plaster/dry walls around me and a bone in my hand that still aches from possibly being broken that one time I lost a fight with a brick wall.

Add to that the smoking, the drinking, the excessive spending and what you’ve got is prefalling.

We went out to see Inception on the weekend mostly because a) Despicable Me was playing at a theatre too far away and b) air conditioning. It was quite enjoyable but here is a transcript of the conversation between The Stalker and me during the movie:

Me: I’m so confused.

The Stalker: Shhhh

Me: I don’t understand.

The Stalker: bemused smile

Me: Is there a book?

The Stalker: slight chuckle

Me: …

The Stalker: You have no idea what’s going on do you?

Me: I’m not stupid, I swear!

The Stalker: Noooooo….

…

Me: Oh! Oh! I get it now.

The Stalker: Of course you do sweetie. *pat pat pat* *eye-roll*

End Scene.

I got this in my email yesterday from the kid I mentor. A few days early but nonetheless I think I squee’d for a solid 5 minutes when I first saw it. He told me he was going to draw a picture of me for my birthday but I didn’t realize he was going to turn me into a cartoon. How awesome is that?!

Since Pride this year coincided with 4th of July this year, I thought I’d toss in some Americana to my “look how gay I am” outfit.

Hope everyone survived their festivities with minimal regrets and remembered her name in the morning.