So, as I mentioned before, I’m have moved downtown. I was looking forward to moving, but didn’t really know what to expect. I’ve been here now for almost a month so I’m officially qualified to write about it.

Let’s cut to the chase: living downtown is sweet. The best part, that I hadn’t fully considered, is that it’s now convenient for everyone to come visit me. When I lived in my house 20 minutes North of town, I had a visitor maybe once or twice a week. Usually we’d meet at a restaurant or something closer to downtown, so I always had to drive. Now I live in such a convenient location that everyone comes to visit me. Often they’re doing something else a block away, so it’s really easy to come say hi.

Another cool side effect of this is that different social circles I’m in are starting to mingle because they often stop by at the same time. I don’t think I’ve gone 24 hours without someone visiting.

The second greatest thing about living downtown is that I’m close to Whole Foods. Now any time from morning until 10pm I can get exactly what I want to eat and it’s only a short walk away. Or if I don’t feel like walking, I can … SKATEBOARD!

I’m going to write a whole article about it, but I bought some electric skateboards. They’re way better than bikes, feet, or even cars. They deserve their own article or maybe three part mini series. That’s how great they are. In fact, I’m about to go ride 2 miles on one to get some food.

I also work really close to work now, so it’s easy for me to drop by on the weekends or at weird hours to check on things - or vice versa. Sometimes I’ll be at work and I’ll think of something I forgot at home. I can just skateboard or walk back and get it and be back within 20 minutes.

I also don’t use my car anymore, really. The only time I use it, ironically, is to go back to my old house to get some stuff. Since it has crappy gas mileage, I’m saving a couple hundred bucks a month by not driving.

I think you should move downtown too. If I had known how great it was, I would have moved earlier. Sure it’s a bit more expensive, but there are deals to be had, and having a roommate is ok too. For example, in Austin you can get a place at the Railyard for $249k that has three bedrooms and is right in the middle of downtown. That’s cheap enough that there’s no excuse not to move.

What benefits are there to living far away from downtown? I can’t think of any. I guess you might save money, but when you factor in the extra driving and value of your time, that may or may not be true. Some people want “peace and quiet”. I live in a building that has clubs right next to it and it’s not to loud at all unless you’re out on the balcony.

I’m sick of being treated like an idiot. Last weekend I rented a boat with some friends, and we were forced to sit through a 15 minute talk about boat safety. It was boring and slightly condescending, but tolerable. After the talk I asked if I’d have to listen to it again if I rented a boat next weekend. He said I would have to.

On the highway I am forced to drive at the speed limit even though I’m a better driver and have a better performing car than most people.

When I call Sprint to upgrade my service I am forced to say “no, no, no thanks, no” while they try to upsell me on ringtones and other such digital garbage.

If I ruled the world (which I, of course, plan to do some day), there would be the TDoA (Tynan’s Department of Awesomeness), which would be responsible for evaluating people’s awesomeness and handing out certification cards depending on one’s results.

Awesomeness would comprise of many factors, but the main ones would be :

• Common sense
• Intelligence
• Aptitude to sue someone else for something that is one’s own fault (i.e. McDonalds for giving out hot coffee

Awesome people would have a lot of great priviledges. We’d be able to sit in the back section of the airplane and not listen to the idiotic safety demonstration.

We could swim in swimming pools after they were closed.

The plastic bags given to us wouldn’t warn us of the unnatural danger of putting our heads in them.l

Our movie times would be adjusted so that we wouldn’t have to sit through the cartoon fox telling us to turn off our cell phones.

There would be three bathrooms : Men’s, Women’s, and Awesome’s. Awesome’s can be used by men or women, since there’s no reason we can’t all get along. Also, since only Awesome people were in the Awesome bathroom, the toilets would be clean and unclogged, and there would be a minimum of misspelled erotica scratched into the stalls.

Awesome people would be allowed to run red lights if there obviously wasn’t anyone else coming and they used their blinkers properly.

Sounds pretty great, doesn’t it? Vote Tynan for President in 2032.

I don’t know if most people would want a stalker or not, but I have one and I think it’s great. Technically she may be more of a secret admirer, but I don’t have any proof that she admires me, and I do have proof that she’s crafty enough to find my addresses. There’s also been some speculation that she isn’t actually a hot girl, but is someone playing a trick on me.

I walk into work and see a large envelope sitting on my desk. Hmm… I’m not expecting anything. I look at the to address.

“Black Ty”

Wait… last time I got an envelope… I glance at the from address. It’s a smiley face.

Remember when I got a sticker in the mail? It’s the same girl.

I tear open the envelope and look inside. There’s a single piece of paper folded in half. I open it up.

My attention is immediately drawn to the middle. There’s a topless photo of a rather attractive girl. The photo ends at her neck.

There’s also text on the page, cut from magazines. It says “I’m at one with my duality”.

What does that mean? I look it up and it’s some sort of quote. I don’t really get it or understand what it’s supposed to mean. Out of all the phrases she could have chosen, why that one? Maybe she just likes it.

I bring the envelope into the room next door and we examine it. The two girls don’t believe that it’s the same girl. They think someone reading this site wrote a copycat letter.

I’m not sure. The handwriting looks the same, but one smiley face has a nose and the other doesn’t. One is addressed to “Black Ty” and the other to “Black Tie”.

I go back to my desk and think. Then I remember that the first envelope had perfume in it. I smell the other envelope - same perfume.

So anyway, secret admirer / stalker, thanks for making my life a little more interesting. If you somehow figure out my new address I will be seriously impressed or assume you’re really one of my friends playing a prank on me.

Oh, and for those of you who aren’t my stalker, here are some pictures :

I’ve got a lot of good stories coming up, just not much time and no good internet connection (on purpose). For now, you can read my recent interview at Bipolar Nation. I have another interview coming up at Sole Goal.

In other news, my stalker wrote me another letter. I’ll scan it and write about it soon. Adios!

It’s 6am and a couple friends and I walk out of my building to get some food. Katz’ deli gives half price food to pedicab drivers like my friend Aaron, and I can’t turn down a deal. As we walk across the street we see a shady looking fellow walking near where we’re parked. Hopefully we can avoid contact.

We can’t.

“Hey guys… can you help me out? My car ran out of gas… ”

It’s the same tired hustle that we’ve heard a million times. His story winds on to the tune of a thousand silent violins as we look for the polite pause to fill with our excuse to leave.

“I have my license. You can hang on to it. Or I can write you a check.”

At that point it doesn’t occur to me that any gas station that’s open is likely to accept his check.

I’m intrigued. How could a scammer trade his license for three dollars? I consider that he might be legitimate, but it doesn’t seem likely. I ask to see his license, and it’s him. I bend the license like a bouncer and look for some finer details. It’s real.

Jonah is growing tired of the conversation and offers three dollars. I take his license.

He briefly looks concerned.

“How will I get my license back?”

“We’re going to Katz’ on sixth. Just meet us there.”

“What if you’re not there?”

“I live in that building. I’ll leave it with the front desk.”

“Ok.”

We walk off three dollars poorer, leaving him one license lighter. Curiously it seems like we’ve both gotten a bad deal.

As we drive to Katz’, we ponder the situation. Legit or hustler, WHO is willing to give their license to a stranger to hold in escrow for $3? It’s insane.

We eat our half price meal at Katz’, eagerly awaiting his arrival. It seems more and more likely that it’s a scam. This doesn’t seem like reasonable behaviour for a real person. How does he have his license and checkbook, but no debit cards, credit cards, or cash?

He never shows up.

I get back to my place. I don’t want him looking for me. At the same time, I don’t want him getting his license back without giving me $3. I don’t like being scammed. I debate whether to leave the license at the front desk or to hold it ransom, assuming he ever found me.

In the end I decide to leave it on the front desk with the note “Lost License”. I don’t particularly want to involve myself with this guy anymore.

What do you think? What would you do once he didn’t show up?

High school is nearing its final semester and I need a P.E. credit. Actually I need two P.E. credits. If you’ve ever taken the time to admire my physique, it may surprise you to hear that my high school career is lacking in the Physical Education department. Suspend your disbelief for a moment.

I sign up for bowling by correspondence. It sounds easy and I like bowing. One down, one to go.

“Just take color guard!”

Kerry’s an attractive friend of mine who is dating one of my best friends. I consider that to be unfortunate for me, although I don’t exactly have the confidence yet to get a girl like that. More on topic, she is in color guard, and a big fan of it.

I’m not an expert, but I remember seeing color guard on the field during football games. They twirl flags and march. I could do that. It really only comes down to one statistic, though :

Thirty girls. One guy.

I agree to do color guard. I don’t have much choice. My first warning that this may be a bad idea comes quickly. A mischeivious smile finds its way to Kerry’s face and she giggles.

Color guard’s first meeting is after school that day. Mr. Brownlee talks about our costumes for the show as well as our flags. Costumes. I hadn’t thought of that.

By the end of the lecture I find myself emotionally invested in the color of the new flags.

We line up single file and are each handed a small package.

A small package of tights.

It’s then explained to me that color guard in the winter isn’t marching and flag twirling. It’s DANCING and flag twirling. I’m in trouble.

Worse, my tights aren’t even male tights… they’re grl tights. For some reason they make my legs cold when I wear them. They look fabulous with my jazz shoes, though.

As the color guard season progresses, I get into it. The girls are great and I love the flag twirling, especially the tosses. Even the dramatic dance moves we perform sans flag are kinda fun. The song chosen for our routine is Jewel - Foolish Games.

We turn out to be a pretty good team and do very well. At the end of the season I wish there was more to it. I don’t even mind waking up at 6am for practice anymore.

I was the first guy to ever join colorguard in the winter, but I’m told that since then there’s been a guy in it every semester. I’m a trendsetter.