Today is the 29th birthday of a very special friend of mine, Casey.  She has become one of my closest friends against all odds.  I’m rude, crude, and usually nude, and she’s funny, sweet, and feisty.  I’m a lapsed Catholic, she’s a serious Mormon.  I revel in violence and profanity, she won’t watch R-rated movies.  Yet we’re friends who know each other’s secrets and who have seen the other’s ugly cry.  It’s these embarrassing moments that bind us.

In the past, I did a fake interview with her.  I wrote a letter to her soon-to-be-born baby.  I even explained how Mormonism works to the uneducated masses.  But I never really empathized with her until recently.

Once she got pregnant, we would talk constantly on Skype about how she was feeling, and the bloating and vomiting that would occur.  I found myself really hating how bad things were going and trying to imagine what it would be like if I was experiencing the same issues.

And, strangely, I did.  I began to have trouble keeping food down.  I got constant heartburn.  My emotions were a wreck, and I kept cleaning everything in the house as if I was getting ready for someone new.

As my conversations with Casey continued, my symptoms got worse and worse.  I began to gain weight and my chest became more sensitive to the touch.  I finally went to my family doctor, who was stymied.

He called in a consult from a battery of physicians and after going through nephrologists and internists and cardiologists, it was finally one young Ob/Gyn who figured it out.  ”He’s having a hysterical pregnancy.”

As soon as I was diagnosed, I noticed the symptoms lessening.  It was right around then that Casey posted a photo of her so pregnant that she’s about to burst.

I had two immediate thoughts.  The first was, “That is absolutely a beautiful pregnancy shot. It’s amazing how the body glows during pregnancy.”

The second thought was, “I should take my own pregnancy shot before my hysterical pregnancy goes away!”

Look at me – I’m glowing with my fake baby!

Happy birthday, Casey.  This new baby will be an amazing birthday gift, but I totally hope you get an iPad or a new car as well.  Love you.

Casey’s not the only one celebrating a birthday! Over the last year, I’ve gotten to know this hilarious blogger, and she is an absolute delight. She’s dark, twisted, sarcastic, and makes me laugh all the way down to the cockles of my cockles. Happy birthday, Brittany!!

The first comment I got from her was in 2007, when she shook her head at the thought of me being a sentimental sap. Since that time, Kelly, aka Mocha Momma, and I have become fast friends, and she’s learned that not only am I a sentimental sap, I’m a romantic goofball and a softy, yet still twisted enough to suggest a threesome with her and the gorgeous daughter that she’s only recently reconnected with after she was adopted many years ago.

Even though she’s only a few years older than me, Kelly has accomplished more than most people twice her age, and she’s done it by herself. She raised children, got multiple degrees, and has risen meteorically in the ranks of the education system, motivating and inspiring hundreds of children. And she has done it all without becoming bitter or cynical. In fact, she still has that slightest hint of naivete about the world sometimes that makes her so utterly human, approachable and lovable to those of us lucky enough to know her.

Kelly doesn’t compromise on her principles, but she gives everyone a fair shake. She believes the best and gives everyone a chance to show how wonderful they are. She’s never afraid to share her thoughts or her heart, and she empathizes like very few people I’ve ever known.

Happy 40th birthday – I love you tremendously, Kelly. It seems like you’re finally getting all of the happiness that you deserve in life, and thank you for being you. You are this shining example of how to live one’s life properly – with vigor, passion, and direction.

This is my friend Shauna.

Ahem. Eyes up here, people.

She swears she’s turning 41 today, but I’m having a problem with some of the math.

I think that if she was born in 1970, but her breasts were born in 1997, you average out the years, which means that she was actually born in 1983, meaning today is only her 28th birthday!

Happy 28th birthday, Shauna! You’re an amazing friend and I love you. And your boobs.

In news unrelated to sexy blondes and their breasts – well, actually, not that unrelated at all, now that I think about it, tonight is another episode of CYR!

I’ll be taking an hour and talking about racial jokes, dating, marathon masturbating, Atlanta, and more.

As always, you can download the Talkshoe Pro client to listen in live and join us in the chatroom. You can even call in and tell me how shitty awesome I am!

Tonight (Wednesday) at 9 PM EST – don’t miss it!

April 15, 2007

April 16, 2007

Almost four years have passed.  Sometimes it feels like decades and sometimes it feels like seconds.

There has been a lot of change.  We’ve matured and grown into different people.  There has been transition.  Loss. Gain.  These last four years have been filled with a lot of . . . well, a lot of life being lived, the goods and bads wrapped into one.

You’ll be leaving soon, but the impression you’ve made is indelible. I’m excited to watch your journey, because I know that no matter what, you will own every step of the way and make it yours.

Happy birthday, Britt.

Did you know that Faiqa and I went to high school together?  Yup.  She and I both graduated from Spruce Creek High School’s International Baccalaureate program.  She is from the class of ’93 and I’m from the class of ’94.

Faiqa and her BFF Lisa

This means that, in this, the year 2011, I have known Faiqa for 20 years.  And, funny enough, she’s only been my actual friend since 2008.  And no, those kernels of friendship were not sown way back in 1991, only to sprout 17 years later.

Faiqa and Cara singing

You see, 20 years ago, when Faiqa and I attended high school together, one of us was a clown, a romantic, and a geek.  And one of us was a total bitch.  I’ll give you a hint – the name of the latter one rhymed with Shmyka.

In case you can't read the caption, it says "Faiqa finds pleasure and humor while taking notes in class." Nerd.

When Facebook suggested that I add Faiqa as a friend back in 2008, I’ll admit I hesitated.  Was there really anything that I wanted to say to someone who had never treated me with anything other than disdain or condescension?  What could really be different?

Her evil, evil smile.

I did it, anyway.  And four or five weeks later (right, Faiqa?) I was approved as her friend. As funny as it sounds, that was when our friendship actually started, and it’s something that never would have happened if it wasn’t for Facebook.  Since those early days, when we were both finding out how alike we actually are and how much we’ve both changed since the days of high school, our friendship has flourished.

The only photo of me and Faiqa together that exists before 2008.

Faiqa has become one of my closest, best friends in the last three years.  I’m sure that if I went back to 1991 and told Past Adam “Hey, 14-year old Adam.  Your best friend when you’re fat and old is going to be that bitchy mean girl who cockblocked you with her cheerleader friend that you have a huge crush on”, he’d probably laugh at me.  But I also know that 1991 Adam stapled his rolled-up sleeves to his arms because he thought it was funny, so his opinion probably isn’t that important.

What I’ve learned from the last three years is that the past means nothing and all that we have is the future.  And with a friend like you, Faiqa, the future is extremely bright.  Your friendship is so important to me and I have so much love and respect for you – I mean, as long as you continue to realize and acknowledge that I’m right more often than you are. Faiqa, thank you for the tremendous gift of your friendship, and happy 35th birthday.

I’m not saying I’m an expert on blogging.  I’m not saying I know more than you do. (Although I am and I do.)  This is just the advice I would give to anyone who wanted to start blogging, boiled down to 10 basic rules.

10.  Blog what you know.  Whether it’s something as simple as how much you like to drink different types of beer or as complicated as the multitude of tools you’ve developed that have helped you deal with depression and aspire towards happiness, the topics you choose and your actual, genuine interest in said topics will resonate with an audience.

9.  Actively foster the blogging community.  Blogging is not a one-way street.  Your audience reads you because they like what you have to say and they feel some type of connection with you and your words.  Whether you reply to comments, link to your favorite bloggers and posts, interact on Twitter or another medium, or comment on blogs regularly, you should contribute more to the community than the occasional one-sided blog post.

8.  Don’t let Twitter take your good ideas. If you have a kernel of a good idea, don’t waste it on 140 temporary characters that will disappear into the timeline faster than you can blink.  That just shows a lack of regard for your own words and ability to translate your thoughts to virtual paper.  Give your ideas the space to grow.

7.  Don’t take yourself so seriously. In the grand scheme of things, you’re nothing.  The chances of your words lasting longer than a generation in any significant way are almost nil. Have fun with what you do, have humility in the way you do it, and realize that the words you’re vomiting onto a page mean precisely dick in the long run.  If you can avoid taking yourself so seriously, blogging is exponentially easier.

6.  Ignore your stats. I know bloggers who spend more time behind the scenes watching every visitor, every IP address, and every search keyword, than they do actually fucking blogging.  Why do you care?  I haven’t looked at my traffic in at least a year, I only refer to search keywords for the purposes of humor, and I don’t know the IP addresses of anyone who reads me regularly.  If you’re worried about a family member or coworker finding your blog, maybe you shouldn’t blog, or maybe you shouldn’t blog about certain topics. Focusing too heavily on your stats is like being the nosy neighbor who does nothing but pay attention to who’s talking to whom and who’s violating HOA ordinances instead of just participating in the neighborhood.

5.  Make friends, not alliances or networking contacts. Blogging is not a game of Survivor, nor is it a dog-eat-dog world.  It’s a – say it with me – community.  A community of people who care, who love, who get angry, who get happy, who support, who tear down, and who act like . . . well, people.  I am blessed with a large circle of blogger friends and not a single one of those friendships is reliant on or a result of their popularity.  If you don’t like someone, don’t read them.  Don’t interact with them. Don’t follow them.  It’s that simple. The second that you determine your circle of friends based on what they can do for you (or, even worse, what they could do TO you), you’re doing it wrong.

4.  Stand by your words. Few things cause me to lose more respect for a blogger than when they take down a post they wrote because of negative feedback.  If you post something borne out of irrationality and emotion and can’t defend what you’ve written, don’t write it. Anything you post online should be something that you can stand behind and defend.

3.  Proofread your posts. It’s okay to make the occasional mistake and misspell the random word here and there, but try to avoid sounding like a complete moron.  If I need an advanced degree in Speaking Dumb Motherfucker to make sense out of the mess that is your post, I’m not going to read it, no matter how good the underlying content may be.

2.  Avoid anonymity and pseudonyms if possible. There are very few reasons to blog under some cutesy name instead of your real name (or some variation thereof).  By using your real name, you avoid confusion between your online identity and your real identity, you gain credibility and respectability, both within and outside the blogging community, and you are more likely to be able to avoid copycats starting blogs based on a variation of your online identity.  And while it’s true that I’ve never been online as anything other than myself, I know plenty of bloggers who started out anonymously and wish that they had just stuck with their real name from the beginning; however, they’re stuck because they risk losing their not-insignificant audience if they change names this late in the game.

1.  Stay the fuck away from bandwagons. Unless you’ve done your own research and you are informed enough on a topic, don’t join crusades or campaigns or bandwagons. Don’t comment on cryptic posts unless you know what the fuck you’re talking about. Establish your own opinions or keep your trap shut.

There are always exceptions and corollaries, but I’ve found that these rules have served me well over the last seven years and maybe if you follow them, you could be half as awesome as me.  Maybe.

This weekend I was in Vegas for “I Still Do”, an event hosted by Mouth Media (run by Brittany, Heather, and Shauna).  And what happens in Vegas when bloggers are around gets posted on the Internet:

Elvis officiates Brittany’s and Andy’s vow renewals from Adam Avitable on Vimeo.

More Elvis! I Still Do from Adam Avitable on Vimeo.

Shauna and Heather tear up the dance floor. from Adam Avitable on Vimeo.

If you . . .

• Live in Vegas;
• Live near Vegas;
• Live within 500 miles of Vegas;
• Have enough miles or rewards for a free plane ticket to Vegas;
• Have $200 sitting around for a rainy day so you can escape to Vegas;
• Hate the snow and need to go somewhere warm, like Vegas; and/or
• Love me and other awesome bloggers who will be gathering in Vegas;

You should get your ass to Vegas from December 10-12th.  Starting out as a renewal of wedding vows for Brittany, it has turned into a balls-out blogger bash.

There is an amazingly cheap room rate at the MGM Grand, and the event itself is free, but you must register now and reserve your hotel immediately!  Go here to join the rest of us who will be attending “I Still Do” in Vegas!

‘Who’s the “rest of us”?’ you ask?  Well, I don’t know the whole list of 100 bloggers who will be attending, but here are some people that I know will be showing up to this little shindig:

• Brittany
• Heather
• Jesus*
• Shauna
• Justin Bieber*
• Angie
• Ron Jeremy*
• Jen
• Dooce*
• Becky
• Santa Claus*
• Ali
• Spenser and Heidi*
• Grace
• Johnny Depp*
• Jules
• Oprah*
• Greis
• Don Draper*
• Nancy
• Mr. T*

The * depicts guests who have not yet responded to their invitation and, in fact, may never have been sent an invitation in the first place.

Be there or be obtuse.

I took a year off from sending out Christmas cards, but I’m starting early this year and I’m in the giving spirit. Well, in the sense that I’m only giving Christmas cards. No gifts. Just cards.

Don’t assume I already have your address! I’m starting over with an empty address book, and need to rebuild it from scratch. So, if you’re brave enough to get a Christmas card from yours truly (here are some previous cards), fill out the form below. As long as you live somewhere on this planet and you give me a valid address, you’ll get a card!

And if you are feeling the holiday spirit and want to bless a lonely, single man who is celebrating his first Christmas alone with gifts or cards, leave a comment below and I’ll email you my address.

If I was able to give gifts this year, I’d give 12 days of prezzies:

Twelve stupid parodies
Eleven horrifying stories
Ten toes all pretty
Nine rants full of swearing
Eight dead interviews
Seven funny posts a week
Six embarrassing photos
Five drunken tweets
Four karaoke songs
Three video posts
Two Avitaballs
And a drawing of a naked fat man.

“What is the purpose of your visit to Canada?” the border guard looked at me nonchalantly.

“I’m going to a conference.”

“What kind of conference?”

“A blogging one.”

“What?”

“Blogging.”

“What is blogging?”

“Have you heard of Twitter and Facebook?”

“Yah.”

“Kind of like that.”

“What is your destination?”

“The Delta Chelsea hotel in Toronto. That is, if the strike doesn’t shut it down completely.” I smiled and chuckled a little. He did not.

“What’s the name of the conference?”

“Blissdom.”

“Bliss-Dom?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you do? Listen to people talk about this blogging stuff?”

“Well, yes, plus it’s a good time to meet up with friends and there are parties.”

“Where are you coming from?”

“Orlando, Florida. I flew into Buffalo.”

“So you flew all the way from Orlando to drive to Toronto and listen to people talk about blogging?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Are you bringing anything into Canada that you’ll be leaving behind?”

“Well, I have some silly bands that I’m leaving behind. That’s about it. Oh, and probably a shitload of money.”

“Silly bands?”

“Yeah.”

“What are silly bands?”

“Well, they are these . . . silly . . .umm . . . bands. Kids love them – they are in the shapes of animals and objects and people, and kids put them on their wrists and trade them.”

“Why are you bringing them into Canada and why are you leaving them here?”

“I may be having dinner with a friend in Toronto on Saturday night and I thought her kids would like them. Don’t ask me – I think they’re ridiculous!”

At this point, he hadn’t really made eye contact with me. The entire conversation took place while slowly eyed my passport, thumbing through every page, turning it sideways, upside down, as if waiting for it to turn into some type of reason for him to turn me away.

“Do you have some type of proof that you drove all the way up here to go to a blogging conference?”

“I have my ticket for it – would that help?” I reached into my bag and pulled out the printed ticket.

He examined it thoroughly. “Sir, this is an invitation for some type of Mabel’s Labels 5-minute Makeover party. Are you having a 5-minute makeover?”

“Ummm, probably not, no. I gave you the wrong invitation – that’s just one of the parties that I’ll be attending.” I handed him the correct invitation, which he treated like it was radioactive.

“Okay, thank you. You can proceed.”

And that was my introduction to Canada.  What did I do in Canada?

I drove to Toronto.

I ate some poutine with Casey and Loukia.

Poutine

Came up with an ad hoc Halloween costume of Lance Draper, Don Draper’s uglier, fatter, more sexually ambiguous brother.

Lance Draper

I watched karaoke stars Tanis, Casey, Alli, Barbara, and Dee sing and dance.

Casey and Allison sing “Single Ladies” from Adam Avitable on Vimeo.

Casey and Tanis sing “Redneck Woman” from Adam Avitable on Vimeo.

Barbara and Dee sing “Imma Be” from Adam Avitable on Vimeo.

I met up with old friends and made new ones.

Angella

Wendy

Alli

Kate

Karen

Zchamu

Loukia

Janice

(In order: AngellaD, MapsGirl, Alli, Kate, Karen, Zchamu, Loukia, Janice)

I had one or two drinks.

Tweets from a Drunk Idiot

Tweets from a Drunk Idiot

And I floated above Toronto at the highest man-made observation point in the world.

CN Tower Sky Pod

I also:

• Watched a lot of Canadian bloggers have a blast learning and talking about blogging.
• Sang really embarrassingly bad versions of “Nothing Compares 2 U” and “Tik Tok”. I haven’t seen any video pop up of those atrocities, so that’s good.
• Met a lot of amazing Canadian women who were new to me (and I to them).
• Went to a speakeasy and had to say a secret password and everything!
• Got guyliner professionally applied and then had professional photos taken.
• Learned that shorts and sandals don’t really do it in 40 degree weather.
• Experienced how Canadians strike – it’s so much more polite than Americans!
• Rode on a subway for my very first time (and hopefully, last) ever.
• Made my own bed in a hotel for the first time (and hopefully, last) ever.
• Had a blast at one of the best-organized blogging conferences I’ve been to yet.