Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Lost My Swagger

Man, I was bugging yesterday. I was supposed to go to an audition to be an extra in Michael Hawkin's upcoming music video. I began doubting myself. Why do I act? What are my motives? Do I want this? I fought and begged and scratched for it, and God blessed me with it, and I was tripping! Also, I wound up going on a crazy oddyssey trying to find a white hat to match my all-white outfit for the white party scene in the video. Even if I am not selected(perish the thought), I figure that I would probably need an outfit for a white party in real life, anyway. So I went to Burlington Coat Factory on my lunch break and bought a fly Pierre Cardin white dress shirt, some killer white slacks, and a hat that I later realized didn't fit. Hence, the oddyssey. With my trusty amigo Rod (soon to be directing giant) Pitts at my side, I began a cross-Poplar/Colonial trek for a pimpish white hat. Target:no white hats. Sears:no hats at all! That's the Sears on popular. You get a -5 for that, man. Then, the Macy's in the Oak Court Mall on Poplar: Only white fisherman hats. Then I. Rosen's:closed. My last hope lay in the S and K Men's store, where I found the white hat with the brim that fit me like it was specifically patterned for my slightly large cranium. Large because of the knowledge inside that is. So, we were off to the audition. Rod photographed me freestyling before I got called. Some dude with braids saw him and assumed that he was part of the production. Rod said he wasn't, and dude made a little sarcastic comment. I said, "That's my videographer, man. He's also my collar popper and shoulder brusher. " I think I wowed them with my personality. They asked if I was camera shy. Me?!!! M.Sea the Great?!!! I should've scoffed, but I just said, "No. I love the camera, and the camera loves me. It's like a match made in heaven". They said that I needed some brown shoes. I said that I would have them by July 2 if I was selected. I hoep they roll with me. I felt so pimp in that outfit. I was Frosty the Snowman, baby! I still felt bad and nervous and I was tripping about a girl I like and acting. By the time I got home, I called Denna Greer, my closest female friend. I am so glad that her boyfriend Paul West lets me use her for counseling. I had a meltdown. I cursed, I yelled, I was frustrated. But she let me get it out. She did say I cursed like a drunken, farting sailor. I say that she couldn't have possibly heard me fart. After we hung up the phone, I felt better, I realized that I really do want to act, I just got scared. And I will face the female that I am digging on when the time is right. Thanks for yet another brilliant pep talk, Denna. You rock like boulders! You da bomb and the fuse! You are righteous!!! Okay, my corny cliche meter just broke. Let's just say that I had a momentary bout of self-doubt (hey, that rhymed, go M.Sea, go M.Sea....okay, I'll stop.), but after a pep talk from Denna last night and Mom this morning, I realized this:

I am a ham. I need an outlet to get goofy and I need to quit being shy around females. In other words:

I got my swagga back! My swagga back, my swagga back
I got my swagga back! My swagga back, my swagga back

Alert the media: The cocky, young, fly and flashy corny do-gooder M.Sea has returned. And you are all better for it. Excuse me while I brush my shoulders off................................................................... There, I'm done. Be easy, dear readers, easy like Sunday mooooorning! Peace to Lionel Richie and the Commodores.


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