The Book of (even more) AWESOME! part 14, 15, 16

Hello again here is some more part of The Book of (even more) AWESOME! The pars are 14, 15, 16.

dancing-home-alonePart 14: Dancing when you’re home alone

Get your groove on long.

Get your groove on strong.

After all, maybe you’re hanging with a heavy heart, burning with a hot temper, or snowed in after a bad day. If there’s a black cloud hanging over your head, there’s no cheaper cure than having a solo dance party in the comfort of your place. Just lock that door, shutter those blinds, and crank the bumping thumping music, baby. Because it’s time to get down with the get down:

  • The Microphone. Wooden spoons are ideal but there are good substitutions like toothbrushes, Swiffer dusters, or hair dryers. Just don’t trip on the cord.your-microphone
  • The Crowd. It’s all about mirrors. Nod and let them nod right back at you. Watch them mouth the words and raise their fists with yours. What a beautiful audience.
  • The Critics. There are none! This is the best part. Nobody says you’re singing out of key so just wail till you can’t wail no more. For bonus points get your voice so loud and dirty it scratches the back of your throat.
  • The Wardrobe. You’ve got a few costumes options including the classic ripped raggedy T-shirt and pair of faded sweats. There’s also underwear only or even full on living room nude. Relax, you look great. Time to rock out.

And of course . . .


getting tucked inPart 15: Getting tucked in

Bedtime is terrible.

TV flickers off, friends go home, sun dips down, and you’re all alone.

But just before you fall asleep sometimes there’s a little treat.

Just before you drift to dreams sometimes there’s a little scene.

Just before you fade away sometimes there’s s little left to say.

Mom or Dad slips through your door, they sit and smile on your bed, and then they swipe your shaggy hair right across your forehead. They  smooth over your covers and squeeze them up to your chin as they smile and ask how your day has been.

Sometime there’s a story, sometimes there’s a book, sometimes there’s just smiling, sometimes there’s a look. But no matter what, we all know that a tiny moment of cozy comfort always feels warm and loving moment of


the-breakPart 16: The sound of a solid crack from a good break in billiards

I am a terrible pool player.

Yet, despite this, whenever someone at a bar asks me to play against them or be their partner, I’m like sure, yeah,I’m totally in.

I mean, I’m having a good time, I’m in a good mood, so I sort of tipsily swagger over to the cue rack on the wall and pretend to be sizing them up. “Oh man, all the good ones are gone,” I always say extremely loudly, my eyes darting around at the other players with a sad little “Yeah, it’s true,” head nod, being careful to plant seeds of disappointment early so nobody expects me to actually sink a ball.

After that, I begin a desperate search for chalk. “Gotta have some chalk, gotta have some chalk,” I’ll mumble, as I walk in circles around the pool table, looking underneath it and in all the pockets until I find some. And when I do, I really go to town. Honestly, I rub my pool cue in that chalk and twist it around tightly, and then I flare the edges to cover up all the missed spots.

If all goes according to plan, I’ll keep chalking my cue until somebody breaks. The goal here is to avoid eye contact until the game starts, because otherwise I might be asked to break, and that’s never a pretty sight.

No, the four or five times I’ve foolishly agreed to kick-off the game end up embarrassing everyone involved. I’ll generally skid the cue off the side of the cueball, sending it wildly spinning directly into a side pocket. Or I’ll get under the ball by accident and send it flying across the bar, where it’ll softly roll up against the boot of some pony-tailed, tattooed biker dude, who will then shoot me a cold, piercing stare and begin punching his fist into his palm.

No, it’s better for everyone if I avoid the break. Frankly, I shouldn’t even be playing.

But what I will do if I can is peek up from my obsessive chalking just before the break, so I can watch the break, because I love the break, because the break is great. I mean, it’s an explosive crack that rises above the background bar buzz, and captures everyone’s attention as the balls fly in all directions.

Yes, the sound of a solid crack from a good break in billiards is the sound of a good fifteen to twenty minutes of fun getting started. And it’s the sound of people enjoying themselves with a couple of drinks, some good friends, and a great night.

And that sounds a lot like


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