complete randomness / life

I came here to blog and kick some ass…

…and I’m all out of sentences.

One of my favorite moments on any reality television show is when someone starts a sentence with “I didn’t come here to make friends.”  Because I know that statement’s going to be followed with, “I came here to win.”  That’s why whenever Rich Juzwiak at fourfour holds his annual “I’m not here to make friends day,” I always carve out ten minutes to watch my favorite phrase, in all its iterations, repeated over and over again in a supercut (For your viewing pleasure: The original 2008 version and the ’09 cut and the 2010 version).

As far as my personality goes, though, while I often make friends, I also always show up to win.  And “winning” doesn’t necessarily involve a competitive event, competitors, or doing anything at all any other rational human would attempt to win.  For example: I recently explained to someone that while I think I like glassblowing, that’s not why I continue to take classes.  Liking glassblowing isn’t really on the table right now.  First, I need to beat it.  This statement, while true, earned me a “wow.”

But I know there are people like me out there.  Today, on dooce, Heather Armstrong, who often refers to her frequent attempts to be the “valedictorian” of things, wrote about how she attempted to “take it easy” at spin class by only getting her heart rate up to 75% instead of 85%.  As someone who only took a hip injury seriously after passing out from the pain on a moving treadmill, I totally feel her.  Preach it, Heather Armstrong.

Back in the day, I took a high intensity training class.  It was like a boot camp class without all the yelling (well, there was some, but I never needed that kind of encouragement), and as the name suggests, intense.  But it wasn’t a competition.  Except in my case.  On the first day, I picked out the one member of the class that was better at v-ups and stair running than me.  And then I put a plan in motion to systematically take her down.  Because that’s how I roll.

The thing is, I’m aware of this drive inside me (and people like me) and I try to do my best not to let it affect others too much.  Meaning I try to make fun of my need to push myself to achieve what are otherwise unreasonable goals that I’ve set for myself.  Because my expectations for me are much higher than anything I’d ever ask of anyone else.  All the same, it’s nice to have goals, even if they’re the aspirations of a crazy person.

I’m writing this now because at 9pm on the third day of the new semester, I’m exhausted, achy, convinced this is the longest week ever, and all I can think to myself is, “I am totally going to win this.  Spring 2011, I am going to own you.”

Do you want to know why I never tried smoking?  Because I always knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I could be the best smoker ever.


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