Call me Berto. My friends do. My best friend got married in 2008 and I was introduced to the rest of the wedding party – both his and the bride’s families – as Berto. The rest of the weekend I had 80 year-old French grandmothers calling me Berto. It stuck. I don’t complain.
I like a good mixed drink, distrust tequila, am deeply in love with deep and dark red wines, and try to be generous with the tip. I’ve 3 younger siblings who are some of the coolest, smartest, wittiest, and funniest people I’ve had the privilege of knowing. 2 of them are over 21 and, while it happens rarely, I love drinking with them. We have a cat but she does not drink with us.
Look, sometimes I’m going to tell you funny stories about job interviews (I’m in law school) or dating (more likely my inability to talk to a cute girl without making an idiot out of myself). Other times it’ll be the myriad things that happen and one encounters throughout the day. Things of substance or perhaps not. Either way, we’re not static and we’re influenced by it all. Hopefully I’ll make you smile, hopefully I’ll make you think, but really, as self-indulgent as it may be, I want to speak. I want to be heard.
There used to be a 100 Things About Me list from several years ago here and, primarily for my own sake, it’ll be shifted elsewhere. A lot of the things on that list are still applicable; and, if I felt and believed them once, then they are true, real, and still me. But the thing is, as I get older those 100 things define me less. Rather, the old hurts hurt less, the old passions – once sharp and jagged – get worn down by the elements. They last, and those things are true. But they’re not all of it.
What’s all of it, then? Well, armed with 12minds, five dreams, three crushes, a couple of rants, and a pretzel stand to hide behind, I’m sure as hell going to find out.