Dwelling in The House of Reluctant Humility

I shave my face about every 3 days. Not because I don't have to, I could honestly have a full beard in 9 days, but rather because I'm lazy. I just don't want to. And I don't have to for work, so I don't.

So, the other day, I was walking on campus and hadn't shaved in a few days. I realized that I was getting some looks while on my way to my office. And then I noticed that I was getting more looks. So, I deduced that I must have been looking particularly hot that day. I mean, that's logical, right?

At this point, the walking began to morph into strutting.

I strutted the rest of the way to the building that my office is located in. I strutted by the receptionist in a very suave way; "Good Morning, Robin..." dripped off my lips with a sensuality never before heard to fortunate Robin's ears. I'm certain that she collapsed in a quivering heap of longing flesh after I passed.

I noticed that a few people in the hallway gave me a slightly longer glance this morning as well. Wow...this 3 day old hair growth on my face is REALLY WORKING FOR ME. I gave them their morning dose of the Kevster's over-testosteroned sex appeal. There, let them have THAT for breakfast. That should sustain 'em. Who needs food after me? I thought as I kept strutting right back to the bathroom to have a self-indulgent look in the mirror.

Well...

When I arrived in the bathroom and turned on the lights to have that peek at the Greek God that I knew was embodied in me, ALL OVER my 3 day old beard was SHREDDED Kleenex. My allergies had been particularly bad that morning, so I went through a lot of tissues, which a portion had remained on my face unbeknownst to me.

How hot is shredded Kleenex all over one's face? I practically wanted to drop and do me right there.

Which actually reminded me of another incident where I was particularly dashing.

A few years ago, I had gone to New York to perform in a showcase for agents and managers. It was loads of fun and I actually received some awards. One was for a character that I developed and have since written a one person play based on that character. I'll be performing it at the Hub Theater in North Hollywood, hopefully this spring if I can ever get my lazy ass in gear.

So anyway, we were on our flight back to Los Angeles after our wild week in New York - that city just rocks. I was with a lively group that consisted of fellow actors and models (so, I wasn't the only jackass on board). And everyone was all jazzed up the whole week, so we were all beginning to crash on the flight back (no pun intended).

After I awoke from a nap, I got up out of my seat and started to head down the aisle to the bathroom. I noticed that a few people were looking up at me, people that I didn't know. And then a few more. And then a few more. After being on stage all week, I figured that I MUST have just been looking extremely hot. Maybe with that tussled look and most probably a disheveled sexiness was emanating from me, permeating the energy in the airplane. I was sure of it.

Well...

When I arrived in the bathroom and slid the door shut behind me, triggering the light to go on, it reveled something that I had forgotten about. 2 hours prior, a model in the group had been playing with my hair. She had put MULTIPLE mini-HIPPO hair clips in my hair. I had these little blue clips sprouting tufts of hair all over my head. I don't know what the fuck I looked like, but it was far from hot. I looked like a freak, that's what I looked like.

Another humbling thing for me is to just have my photo taken. It is SELDOM flattering. A few cases in point:

Here's me with my face somehow appearing extremely flat as though I had been chasing parked cars. And my sweet Dad...Doesn't he look adorable? Yeah? Well, he will seriously jack your shit up...especially when you least expect it. He takes advantage of the whole "element of surprise" thing.

Okay, besides my nose looking enormous here, why do my eyes look crossed? What? Now I have crossed eyes and I didn't even frickin' know about it??? Great. That's just great. And by the way, that's not a purse, it's my camera bag. And I'm not wearing a skirt, they're swim trunks. Okay? God...

Look how hot Will looks here. Then, what the hell am I doing? Did he just blow a big fart and I'm about to be blasted off the ledge? Or did I...?

My oldest brother Chris and me in the bamboo forest in Maui, 2004. What the hell is going on with my face? Is this Mr. Potato Head meets Jimmy Durante meets Sleepy Dwarf? And Chris is doing the Islands' sign for "Hang Loose", or whatever the hell it means...I'm doing the Islands' sign for, "Here, sit on my index finger and be loose."