The Wedding Nut

I think weddings are fun, and I especially like goofy wedding traditions. But at my cousin's wedding reception, I came across something a little different. I was washing my hands in the bathroom when a well-dressed gentleman came in, held out a pecan, and said, "I give you the wedding nut!" I didn't move to take it, and instead said, "...the what?" He replied, "the wedding nut," with emphasis. So I extended my hand, and he plopped it into mine. Then without explanation he left as promptly and with as much purpose as he had entered. I remained in the same position with my hand out-stretched looking at the pecan that sat there. "The wedding nut...hrmmm..." I dried my hands and took the now slightly moistened nut back out to the wedding reception.

The music was loud, but I spied my sister boogieing next to her husband. Assuming that she would have some idea of what to do, I went up to her and said, "Some guy just gave me the wedding nut." She said, "...the what?" I replied, "the wedding nut," with emphasis. She thought about it for a moment, still dancing, and said, "Andrew, I don't think that that's a thing. I think some guy just handed you a pecan." I didn't believe her at first, but after asking more and more people and after pulling out the same pecan to show each person that I wasn't lying, reality finally sank in. Frustrated that the nut in my hand was nothing special, out-of-the-ordinary, or even extraordinary, I started to dance, hoping that the loud music would help me forget the memory of the strange, but well-dressed, man who handed me a pecan at my cousin's wedding reception.

But being the hopeful man that I am....I invented a new tradition....that of the wedding nut! So here's how it works:

The best man first obtains a suitable wedding nut. The best man then later hands off said nut to a single man at the wedding reception. This single man then, in turn, passes the wedding nut to another single man.* The nut continues to be passed until the bouquet is thrown. At this point, the man who holds the pecan is singled out as the chosen one. The chosen one then dances with single woman who catches the bouquet. And as they dance, parents, cousins, friends, and family all watch to see if maybe, just maybe, the wedding nut lit any fireworks.

*Stipulation!: a single man cannot reject the wedding nut, as it brings shame to himself and his family.

Haircuts, Crickets, and the End of All Things

As Braveheart plays on my tv in the background, I ponder three things that have been weighing very heavily on my mind:

1. One, I need a haircut.
2. Two, I need to get over my fear of bugs, because Austin is in the process of being systematically taken over by crickets.
3. Three, I'm pretty sure the last time I looked in a mirror, my left ear moved without me consciously trying to move it, and after unsuccessfully trying for half an hour to recreate said motion, I am left with the notion that my ear will move when it wants to, not when I want it to.

These things weigh very heavily on my mind because they represent some things that I am in the process of discovering: I need to accept things about myself that I cannot change, I need to get over my fears, and I need to get a haircut every 6-8 weeks.

What are my fears, you might ask?

1. Comedy. I'm deathly afraid of comedy, well, really I'm just afraid of not being funny, or of not knowing that I'm not funny (ignorance would not be bliss). And so I've decided that I have to practice more, and as a result, comedy has a much bigger timeshare in my life. My plan is to attack comedy from all sides: sketch, improv, and stand-up. Because that's what they'd least expect, right?
2. Bugs. Crickets keep showing up in places I don't expect them to, watching, and waiting for me to make a mistake. And when I do, I'm scared to think of what they're capable of doing.
3. Ghosts. I just discovered a TV show called Ghost Adventures, where an intrepid group of three friends scope out some of the most haunted places on earth. It's made me see that maybe those bumps in the night aren't always a figment of my imagination.
4. Fear itself.

But comedy, crickets, and the occasional haunting won't stand in my way. I just wish I knew where my "way" is leading...

Not I.

I thought you might want to see what I see in the mirror when I wake up. I know what you're thinking...

...my hair never gets that long, and it doesn't, but it's definitely just as messy. But seriously though, I do look that good.

I don't particularly like writing about what I think or do because that suggests that I have some level of introspection, and I don't want to suggest that. So, for right now, you can think of me as a dribbling fool who doesn't really think much. It will be better for both of us.

Onto the matter at hand, I need to catch up to Rob's volume of posts (and pictures), and the only way to do that is to crank them out faster than I can think of what to crank into them. So here-a-go's my cranking...

Over the past couple of months, a couple of major changes have steered me in a different direction than I thought I was headed. And so I relay them:

First of all....I dropped all of my classes in an attempt to have enough free time to best Rob in this battle of being more interesting. Seriously though, I landed an internship with a great company here in Austin and now work a refreshing 9-5 to job!

Second of all...I've become a comic. For better or worse, I find myself on the seedy underbelly of Austin's unprofessionalized comedy scene. I'm being taught by improvisor and local Austin comic, Andy Crouch, as well as professional comic writer and stand-up comedian, Dan French. But I still haven't found the will and/or confidence to perform at an open-mic night. Don't rush me, I'm metamorphosizing into a comic butterfly.

I don't want to go into detail on either of those topics for now, I'll leave it for another post, another time. But for now, if you haven't checked out Rob's blog yet, do it, do it. www.movementatitsfinest.blogspot.com. It's pretty dense and phil-o-so-phi-cal. I'm not at smart as him*, so I don't write with such eloquence. I've read all of Rob's posts, and they don't mention me. We can assume that he's ignoring me in his own best interests, so as not to bring any attention to my worldly adventures. My worldy adventures are so interesting and important that after reading about them, every other man would tremble in his own inadequacy. Rob's blog doesn't make me tremble, but it does kinda make me twitch.

So, this post didn't have much substance, but it did have a picture of Rambo. And that's all that really matters.

*In case you were wondering, we proved Rob's intellectual superiority with an online IQ test on which he scored two points higher than myself, scoring a 74.

I know, I know, stop looking at me like that...

So I've been sitting with an empty blog post on my computer for a good month now, not knowing what to write about, thinking to myself that Rob probably forgot about his blog as well. Well several days ago, I took a look at his blog (check it out at www.movementatitsfinest.blogspot.com) and, needless to say, he hasn't forgotten about his blog. I was taken aback. He's had about five posts so far, all of which sound interesting. And then I though to myself...

...if I, instead of saying Austin, said Rome, and instead of my room, said my villa, I too could post something on the same level of interesting as Rob has already. SO here it goes...

I've just started exploring Rome and all of it's ancient niches. I've begun to explore the downtown nightlife and have found a limitless supply of life on every street corner. As I sit here in my villa, it feels as if Rome's heartbeat is pulsing in my soul and I pray that I can find...

..so I can't write like that. That's Rob and his ver-nac-u-lar, not mine. So from here on out, I'll regale you with my own type of speak, and I hope it's good enough for you.

Over this past summer, I joined an improvisational comedy class at a small theatre/coffee shop called the Hideout Theatre in downtown Austin. The theatre sits on the second floor of this small piece of real estate and barely has enough room for a crowd. The class itself really sharpens comedic thought in a fast-paced, yet relaxed, atmosphere. For me, it's pretty incredible to finally be in an environment where people expect you to be funny, instead of constantly thinking about joking around but never really having the proper outlet to do so.

So in the middle of taking this improv class, I saw an add for a stand-up comedy class in East Austin at the New Movement Theatre. At this point, I thought to myself, "Two comedy classes? Really? What are you trying to do?" I really didn't have an answer for myself, and so I signed up for it. On Tuesday nights now, I visit an even smaller piece of real estate in a space that definately doesn't have room for a crowd. But here, I find myself more in my element. I find myself ready to be blinded by the spotlight.

So I'm in the middle of taking two separate comedy classes with radically different philosophies on comedy. On one hand, I'm told to improvise every sentence and on the other, I'm advised to heavily script several minutes of time in which I've planned out every last syllable and raised eyebrow. It's refreshing and exciting. It keeps my heart rate up and makes me uncomfortable. I like it.

It's great to say that after each class I feel invigorated. I feel like I can jump out onto the comedy scene in Austin, the first stop on a yellow-brick road that's leading me straight to fame and fortune, haha. But that's not really what I think about. To tell you the truth, I think more about how I never have enough time to play the piano and how my roommates don't clean their dishes or the kitchen counter. So chalk these first few weeks up for Rob, because I'm still trying to figure this interesting competition-thing out.

My Attempt

Rob is a business student with no soul. I'm an engineering student with no free time. Rob's going to France this September. I'm staying in Austin. He's going to study abroad in a new, exciting part of Europe just outside of Paris. I'm not.

Rob's been my roommate for our freshman and sophomore years at UT Austin and currently, this summer. Needless to say, we've spent a lot of time together over the past couple of years, and so this next semester will be weird. So maybe this blog is just my coping mechanism to try and prevent the uncontrollable sobbing that's likely to come.

I'd like to think this blog is dedicated to all the normal people out there who aren't going to study abroad, all those people who want to live an exciting life in the great US of A. But really, this blog is about keeping track of my impossible, and vain, attempt to have a more exciting life than Rob.