Over the weekend, I spent most of my time doing something rather uncharacteristic of me. I fired firearms of various makes and models. No bullets, but lots of noise and smoke. It was a lot of fun.

I have noticed that I want to entertain with my writing, so I try to make a big thing out of a little thing. I have tried hyperbole to some effect. I have tried to write funny stories, or write comedy. I am not particularly good at any of them. Maybe I have a way with words, but I am lacking a certain oomph. I don’t know what it is.

So, I am just going to catalogue some things that happened to me over the weekend instead. It may sound a little Karl Pilkington, for those who know who that is. And it’ll probably get a little maudlin like it does. The “more…” link can shield you from such things. Use it. Y’know, by not… using it.

I found that one of my fight buddies who lives in Chicago also went to my high school and dated the now-husband of my then-girlfriend. She was in the drama club at high school and knew a lot of my friends there, but somehow our paths never crossed, though we think we may have been at the same parties once or twice. She mentioned J.T., a then-friend of mine and a couple of run-ins with my mentor. Still, I expected a stronger connection between us.

She allowed me to stay on her couch rather than have to drive home. Her roommate was an interesting fellow. He looked like Harold Ramis, as she mentioned. He also is in theater, and is likely gay from the way he presents himself. His dog, who shares their apartment, is a weiner dog whose body is actually sort of detached from itself. That is, you have to pick the little thing up in a certain way so as not to hurt it. I thought that it might be true of many weiner dogs. It walked funny.

I saw a few other fight friends there, some of whom I had forgotten were Chicago-based. Many of them want me to see their shows in the upcoming weekends. I would really like to see one called “Unsex Me Here” which involves projections on nude actors and revolves around a one-hour re-telling of Macbeth. I don’t know if I’ll be able to.

I also wanted to see the show that the coordinator of the firearms workshop directed. He is a very hard-working guy, though a little intense. We hung out a lot while I was down there. Because my life is in a state of upheaval right now, I acted quite a fool and spent too much money on entertaining us all. Everyone now probably thinks of me as a little flighty and foolish, but a really good time. I was close to my college self, only people asumed that I was drunk rather than just uninhibited naturally.

I sort of regret it. I had a good time, but people are not likely to consider me as reliable as they might have had I been a little more reserved. It would be their mistake, but that does not really matter. Reliability is entirely reputation-based, so…

A new friend I made expressed an interest in another of my fight buddies, but it was my impression that she was a lesbian. I told him so, but I don’t know where I heard that information, actually. It might have been from her. I think it’s true. I still felt badly saying it, as he I think his attraction to her was more than simply physical. I don’t blame him; she has a unique appeal. She’s the one in the nude show, so we all sort of teased him that we should go see it. He bore it well.

He and the coordinator had both been involved in an interesting quasi-Peace Corps thing where they taught theater workshops, while being subjected to third-world-country-like conditions. It all sounded fascinating, though I sort of poo-pooed it in my mind when I realized that the children being taught were sort of privileged and this was a way to expose them to what the other side must be like. I think they should have been exposed to real danger, a bit, rather than this facsimile, but I suppose safety comes first. Gotta work with a net when it comes to kids.

I guess I am earning a reputation for being a good fight person. Many of the teachers have talked well of me, though not to me. Whether this is more ego-stroking on the part of my actor friends, I can’t be certain. When you wear your heart on your sleeve with people who are used to dealing with fragile egos, they treat you a certain way. You can’t always be certain it’s the truth.

Flattery and falsehoods of its kind have been plaguing me this week. I have a hard time trusting anyone, and since Clare will be moving soon, it’s making me a bit of a basket case. I trust her more than anyone, but now that safety net is going to be gone. So, I likely will become more introverted again. I doubt most people will really notice as my defense mechanism is to be even more outgoing and foolish to remove the possibility of someone noticing that I am not feeling so great. I don’t want to answer the “how are you?” question. And most people don’t really want the answer.

Just to be clear, I am not pointing this at any one. I know I have a strong support system of friends. I just don’t really have the wherewithal to talk about this with any of you right now. A little more time, a little more distance and everything will work itself out. For now, I just ramble on my blog. I think that’s what it’s for.