Be the person you're supposed to be.

There comes a time in everyone's life where you start to look around and realize that something is wrong. Is something actually wrong? Maybe, maybe not. But you WILL look around and start to question it. Are you doing what you want to be doing? Are you saying and doing the things you want to say and do? Have you made all of the wrong decisions? Who knows. But one things for sure, you will think about it. You'll start to think as well if you're being yourself. If there's something you are holding back. If you are living the way you want to live. Well, let this happen sooner than later.

Too many people wait a long time to fully start being themselves. Get to fifty, or sixty, and finally start living the way they've always wanted to live. Why not do it earlier? Because earlier, at a younger age, you are around people. "TERRIBLE", "SCARY" people, who will 'judge' you for everything you do and say. Will they actually? Hard to say. Some people WILL for sure. Others? You're probably just making it up out of fear. So, when we're younger, and in school or at jobs with people constantly around us, we put on fronts so as not to be judged. Then, when we're older, and around the least amount of people we've ever been around, we start being ourselves.
"Look at me! I'm eighty. Alone on my porch. And you know what? I ALWAYS thought the Stones were better than the Beatles. There, I said it. You hear me world! The STONES are better than the BEATLES!"

That's also the time when people start wearing what they want to wear. Not EVERYTHING calls for good clothes. You ever see someone at Wal-Mart and think what they're wearing is garbage?
"Woa. Look at that guy. Flip flops and a sleeveless 'Duck Dynasty' t-shirt. Are they crazy?"
Are you? It's Wal-Mart! It's a place where you can buy cookies AND pants. You can get your car fixed AND pick up diapers. THAT'S considered some sort of red carpet affair? No. Some of these people are criminals, sure, but most have reached a place where they don't care what you think of them. What you're wearing in a place like that shouldn't matter. In most places, really. I can't wait until people stop caring what others are wearing at award shows.
"Brad! You look so nice tonight. Who are you wearing?"
"Who I want. Blow me."
".... Well they make a nice suit."

School can be awful place for being yourself. It starts thoughts in us that we believe for way too long. Not only because people will bully you, which yes, can be terrible. More so because, people higher up don't instil enough to young people that THIS STUFF DON'T MATTER. You don't have the best jeans so people make fun of you? Don't matter! You're dating a person that some other loveless piece of garbage doesn't find attractive? Don't matter! That should be a full class in school. 'Don't Matter 101'.
"Hey, kids. Thanks for being here today. You'll notice I'm wearing just a speedo and a hockey helmet. Why? It don't matter. When a kid makes fun of wear you come from? Guess what? One day you'll BOTH be terrified about the prospect of dying. What they say don't matter. Somebody says your girlfriend or boyfriend is ugly? Guess what? One day you'll BOTH be wondering what the point of all this is. It don't matter. Your homework is to tell everyone to shove it."

What's nuts as well, is that when you start being the person you are supposed to be, you start wearing what  you want to wear, when you walk the way you want to walk, people start saying you're crazy. When you step outside of the norm, people start saying that you are crazy, that you are going insane, that you are losing your mind.

"Are you NOT wearing a snap back hat? Wow. What are you nuts? We are ALL doing it. Why would you not do this? Why would you buy a peacoat that's NOT black? Look around you? EVERYONE is wearing a black one. Straighten up!"

Saying someone is 'crazy' is a very simple way of pretending to be cool, and dismissing someone. If you say they're 'crazy', you don't have to find out anything about them, why they do what they do, or what they think. In your mind, they're crazy, so who cares? Not you. 

Most things we think are cool are made up anyway. Not in a weird negative way, but most things are fabricated to look cool, to make you look cool, or to make you feel that you should be doing whatever is going on to be cool, be considered cool, or whatever. You think what you're watching on TV has a group of cool, hip, fun people who want to be there? They are probably paid to do so! Dr. Phil's audience gets fifty bucks to sit there. I'm sure some of them want to be there anyway, but fifty bucks! Some women at clubs are paid to be there! You walk into a club, see a guy sitting there with four hot girls, and think, 'that guys awesome.' Those women are being paid! They're being paid so people like you think that place is awesome and you keep going back! You ever go into a place and think it's dead? It's probably because the manager of the club doesn't have the budget to pay the women to show up.

"Okay, we've installed your bar, DJ booth, and bathroom attendant. Now, let's talk money for these hot women that will dance here."

"Money? No, women will just show up, right? The really, really hot ones... right?"

"Stupidly hot women don't just DO anything. Where she goes, people follow. So what's her incentive to be here?"

"... Because this is the place to be?"

"Where SHE is is the place to be. When she's grocery shopping? THAT'S the place to be. Get your shit together, man."

Either way, be you. We're still having debates about whether or not someone lives in the sky. Wear the god damn hat if it makes you happy.

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

Christmas is Christmas no matter where you Christmas.

I've always liked Christmas. Now though, for different reasons. Now, as an adult, I can do what I want on that day. As a kid you might have to have dinner at a certain time, or go to a family members house. As an adult, don't have to do anything. Don't have to go to a certain persons house for dinner at a certain time. Don't have to have conversations with cousins about the weather.
"Cold out there, huh?"
"Yep. It's winter."
"Yeah, but it's winter in LA, and it's not cold there!"
"Two different places I guess."
"Yeah, but one place is cold, and the other place, well, it just isn't! Isn't that something!?"
Okay, so conversations like that rarely happen to that kind of extreme, but still. I choose to spend Christmas how I want.

That means for the last couple of years I've stayed in New York for Christmas. Because I stay here and it's not where my family lives, I get invited to orphan Christmas.
"You want to come to orphan Christmas dinner?"

"Nope. Orphan is not really a fun word. Sounds terrible."

"Oh, it's not a Christmas for orphans. In this case, YOU'RE the orphan because you won't be with your family, so I'm inviting you to mine."

"So, I'll go, and they'll look at me all day like my family were burned to death in a fire?"

"Sort of. Also, they weren't? Then why aren't you going home?"

Putting the word 'Orphan' in front of anything doesn't make it sound appealing.
"You're cute. You want to have an orphan threesome with me and my friend?"
"I don't even think orphans would want to have an orphan threesome."

I have places I can go, I just choose not to. I'm back and forth to Canada a decent amount, and flying home at Christmas is way too expensive. It cost almost a thousand dollars to get home. Why? Because there's not a lot of direct flights from NY to New Brunswick, and also, it's Christmas. Airlines can charge whatever they want.
"Alright. I need to fly from Halifax to Northern Halifax for Christmas. Let's see how much that would cost. Seven hundred bucks?! It's an hour flight. What the hell, airlines!"
"We're sorry. When you really want to get somewhere during a certain time of year, we raise the prices. Same flight in January would be four hundred dollars less. But, there's no reason to go home in January, now is there? So, will you be checking one bag, or two?"

Also, why is it necessarily sad when someone doesn't go home for Christmas? How do you know what their family Christmas would be like? People sort of assume that you just HAVE to go home for Christmas. If you don't, something must be wrong and you must be the most depressed person on earth.
"You're not going home for Christmas? Wow. You okay? You thinking about ending it all? How are you even able to stop crying long enough to tell me that? Was your family murdered by ninjas on Christmas? I am so truly, truly sorry."
Not all Christmas's or families on Christmas are the way they are shown to us in commercials. Every commercial for Christmas shows a mom and a dad, both wearing terrible sweaters, in a big house with at least two kids, a dog is running around, their tree is massive, and there's so many presents under the tree it'll take until the 26th to open them all. They NEVER show commercials with people living in apartments. Why? Do people in apartments not celebrate Christmas? Do you HAVE to have a set of stairs to run down to really enjoy presents?
"Merry Christmas, guys!"
"Ah, yeah. Thanks, mom. Huuuuh. It's just, I can't fully enjoy this new iPod knowing that I ran two steps down a hall way and then through the kitchen to open it. Hopefully next year, we'll get a real, HUMAN place to live."

I like staying in NY for Christmas. Christmas is the one day a year that I don't feel bad for not doing anything, so I want to take full advantage of that. There's a bunch of places I could go, but if I do, I gotta wear pants, I have to talk to families, I have to not swear. All of those things are fine, and I like doing them, but on Christmas? Man. Adult Christmas has become a real day. I wake up really early, start the day with tons of bacon. I wear sweatpants all day. ALL... DAMN... DAY. I'll probably watch an old wrestling pay per view. Drinking in the afternoon. I probably won't shower. There's no WAY I could do any of that at a persons house with their family.
"Nathan, what are you doing? Aren't you going to get dressed?"
"What? No. It's Christmas! Did you get dressed as a kid when it was Christmas? You're goddamn right you didn't."
"Can you watch your language. There are kids here."
"And I bet they're happy as dick that it's Christmas! I'm putting more egg nog in this rum, and I'm NOT going to eat at a dinner table. Pe, pe, peace!"
I won't be able to enjoy Christmas this way forever. I'll have a family and kid some time. Probably. Who knows. But still, doing Christmas the way I do now at forty two might be a bit weird.

I try to do Christmas the way it was as a kid as much as possible. Christmas as a kid was amazing and that's not coming back. The break from school alone was great. That last day of school before time off for Christmas. Man. Teachers handing out candy canes, movies being played. You could just leave whenever you wanted. Teachers were almost upset that you showed up.
"Ugh, you're here? Don't you have cool friends to smoke drugs in the woods with? God. Alright, I'll put on Gremlins. I would rather be home."
Christmas Eve as a kid was so much fun. It was great to not really be able to sleep because you were so excited about waking up.
"Go to sleep."
"I can't!"
"You have to."
"It's completely impossible! It's Christmas. CHRISTMAS!"
"Santa won't come if you don't go to sleep."
"Well Santa can blow me, because there's no way I'm sleeping! Doesn't he know it's Christmas?! Christmas!"

Christmas does not just have to be in the same living room you did it in when you were five. Christmas is a state of mind. It can be enjoyed anywhere, with anyone, if you really want to. You could have a good Christmas in a bus station. It would take a hell of a lot, but it could happen.

Twitter @nathanmacintosh

6 ways you know you're eating a sandwich.

You know, for some reason, in this topsy turvy world, people do not always know what they are eating. I hear people all the time, 'What the hell is this? What did I order? What in the goddam hell is in my stupid mouth right now?!' Well, I don't know about other foods, but I can tell you when you are eating a sandwich. Here are six ways to know how.

6 Ways You Know You're Eating A Sandwich.

1. It's on some kind of bread.

There are only some foods that are consistently on bread. Is spaghetti on bread? Who knows. It's your spaghetti. Do you need to wrap wings in pita before you take a bite? Absolutely not. Is there a rye bread involved with eating cookies? Most of the time, no. If what you're eating is contained inside of some sort of bread, it is probably a sandwich. That is pretty much what a sandwich is. Some junk between pieces of bread. Or junk wrapped up in a wrap. Or some trash thrown into some sort of tortilla. Whatever that garbage may be. You can put anything you want into a sandwich, but if what you throw together is between pieces of things made with wheat? That there, long haul trucker, is a sandwich.

"I'm a dog sandwich. That's how this whole thing works."

2. You are picking it up with your hands to eat it.

Sandwiches are eaten with your hands. Just about every time. You could put it in a bowl and eat it with a spoon. Would be very strange. You could use a knife and a fork, but if you do that you probably own a horse and are a white woman from Connecticut. A white woman from Connecticut is NOT a sandwich. Let's get that straight.  'But cookies are eaten with your hands,' you say, and chips, and many other things. Is this really a sandwich I'm eating or is it a bag of Sour Patch Kids? Good question. Again, if you refer to way number one, ask yourself if what you are holding is between bread. It is? Then that there, go-kart operator, is a sandwich.

"I said, get me a fork. My hands are for reading books about why a ten year old would have this serious a face."

3. You ordered a sandwich.

This is a pretty sure giveaway to figuring out what you're eating. A server came to your table and asked, 'What do you want?' You scream, 'Club sandwich!' You probably yelled because you were so nervous that you would make a mistake and order something else. Maybe potatoes. Maybe a garden salad. So before your mind started coming up with other food options, you screamed 'Club sandwich!' so that you'd get one. The server is startled, but puts in the order. Your food comes minutes later. Wondering what it is? No need to, crop duster. You yelled sandwich. You got sandwich.

"So you're telling me that if I order a sandwich I will get a sandwich? Must be magic."

4. It came with chips.

When you order a steak, it doesn't come with chips. Cordon Bleu does not come with chips. Unless you ordered a lobster from a vending machine, no chips will be beside it. If you are stumped as to what you are eating, look at what came with it. If it is some kind of plain potato chip, that is probably a sandwich. It might be a hamburger or a hot dog. Those also have bread and have to be eaten with your hands. By this criteria, those are basically just different shaped sandwiches. Let's not get into that. Really nice meals don't come with chips. Enough said, book shelf repair man.

"Sure, whatever. I guess you can have Fruit By The Foot with your Duck a l'Orange. It's your personal fun house tonight!"

5. You have to keep putting it back together.

So the thing you are eating keeps falling apart. Tomatoes are blowing out of it. Bacon is making a jump for it every chance it gets. Mayo is falling all over the place. You can't figure out what it is because basically, in today's busy world, who has time to figure out what they're eating? Well, this is clearly a sandwich. Look, what else falls apart and contains tomatoes and bacon? Cereal? Fig Newtons? Bananas? I think not. Even if you were EATING a tomato, tomato wouldn't be blowing out of it. What you are eating, fair doctor, is a sandwich. Unless you are eating a salad with your hands. If that's the case, it's time to go back to school.

"There we go. A nice, comfortable sandwich for you to sleep in. I mean, crib. A nice comfortable crib for you to... what the hell is this thing? Whatever. I'm getting a sandwich. Flip your thing over and sleep in it."

6. Someone yells, 'Hey, how's that sandwich!'

You are eating something, and you have no idea what it is. You're enjoying it, but staring out the window of the restaurant wondering what the hell it is. Then some over-enthusiastic man walks by and yells, 'Hey! How's that sandwich?!' Now, there's no way the two of you have no idea what a sandwich is. He's probably onto something. First thing in this situation is to go, 'Oh yeah! That's what the hell this is!' Then, look that man in his face and say, 'This sandwich right here, toll booth guy? Is delicious.'

"I just want to know how your sandwiches were!"
"They we're probably pretty great if we are keeping behind this fence. Now shut up!"