The One Wherein I Return to My Computer...

Bonjour!

Briefly, let me apologize for my delay in posting.... I'm so sorry.  *Whew that was easy...*  My attention has been elsewhere and continues to be there, but remember internet my heart solely beats for you... and warm freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

Between work, friends, and several television shows, I just haven't had the free time to channel my muse.  And I'm sure you are thinking to yourself, "but we miss you... turn off the telanovella and write!  Don't you love us?!"  And to that I reply: honestly, in all fairness, TV was here first and DVR will only hold so many hours of programs before it starts executing hostages.

So as a peace offering, I will offer up a small morsels of what I have been doing while I shamelessly avoided my blog.

First: work. This the first subject and one of the very few times I will mention work.  This is because I have a self imposed gag order about my job (read: possibility of losing said job, should I ever mention it in more than the most anonymous parameters).  It is very shaky ground for people with blogs (no matter how insignificant) and unless I end up making money off of book deals or some other fantastical plot device a lá Julie & Julia just take my word for it that I am in fact gainfully employed and manage to avoid federal prosecution for money laundering every day.  That being said, I recently received what I feel was a much deserved and long overdue promotion.  So snaps for John!  I finally have a title that matches the level of responsibility I undertake.  As you can imagine I'm stoked about this prospect, and have been working hard, brainstorming ways to ensure management never even thinks they may regret their decision.  And that is all I'm going to say on that subject.

Second: Television.  DVR has become a secret lover of mine.  I tell it my wants and desires and it makes sure I can watch people act out those thoughts in ridiculous settings.  My latest poison was a little series called The Real Housewives of Atlanta.  The SOAP FAN recorded a marathon of the entire second season... and I know what you are thinking.  Anyone who knows me personally will attest how much I despise this type of reality show.  But what can I say?  The moment I saw Sherée try to snatch off a wig from a perpetually drunk Kim (even though Sherée swears she just wanted to tug it a little), well, common standards of decency never stood a chance.  Now, I never saw the orange county version, but I was sucked into the second season of this series set in the ATL.  SO.  MUCH.  DRAMA.  And I couldn't look away from the screen.  If you haven't watched this show I highly suggest you go through the internet to find them or... try to glean what you can from Hulu.

Between that show, Glee, V, and Flash Forward honestly I'm amazed I find time to use the restroom and don't just soil myself where I sit.

Third: friends.  I have been really trying hard to bond with the roommates I have acquired even though we have varying schedules.  This meant making myself available during times when I might have been blogging.  Yeah kind of a weak excuse but it is totally valid if you knew my friends.  In fact I have been struggling to accurately describe my roommates but now I think I have a good start.  Let me introduce you:

• The DJ.  I would honestly call him the Alpha male of the group.  He has a no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners attitude that is both impressive and has (when combined with my sensitive nature) led to a couple of necessary heart-to-heart's so that we don't self destruct on each-other (while this sounds like we are at each other's throats, in reality there were just two minor scuffles and they were both resolved amiably).  His ability to socialize with almost anyone coupled with his panache for spinning great dance music makes him a social force that I am routinely glad is on my side and constantly in awe of.
• The SOAP FAN.  The other roommate of the bunch.  He's fairly low-key, loves watching football and soap operas in equal measure.  His fanatical devotion to Days of Our Lives though is what pushed him over for the handle SOAP FAN.  Biggest thing to say about the SOAP FAN?  Avoids confrontation...  To an extreme.  While it makes it easy to do what I want, I always worry whether he's enjoying himself, because lord knows he would never say otherwise at the moment, but later he'll bitch about it.  But he's totally sweet as peaches and is great to talk with when trying to blow off steam for the day.

I have a couple other people that I may mention in passing but usually their name will provide you with all the description normally necessary for the context of situation (I'm of course mainly referring to the DIVA and the DANCER).  But the roommates will likely be the most mentioned people and warrant a little background story.

So again to my small (tell your friends about me) readership.  Apologies for the delay, but I've been busy and am just now figuring out how to get back on the blogging ball!

On Me and My Accent

Back in the day when I used to live in Virginia I had no accent.

It was just one of those things I always wondered about.  No one who grows up where I did would have an accent, and people from other places would even say... "Hey no one here seems to have have an accent."  In fact, people who moved there that did have twangs, long vowels, and all the other trappings of foreign, quickly lost them.  I used to refer to it as the place where accents go to die.

I think it was a mixture of having lived near a military base where lots of different ways of talking quickly homogenized, and being in a middle state along the coast.  Far enough from the North to avoid the Clam Bakes and Blizzard, while also being far from the "Real" South to avoid the banjo's and in-breeding.  We were what Goldilocks would refer to as "Just Right."

And it was always something of a treat to listen to my mother talk to her family, since she would let out the "Ya'll's" and "Aint's" and any other word you could imagine suddenly take on a drawl.  Dad also wasn't immune to this phenomenon.  Get him around his family or give him enough drinks and suddenly it was like I was in the middle of Brooklyn and 5 seconds away form being yelled at for blocking the sidewalk.

Having no accent also used to leave my sister and me with something of a small gift.  When we talked to people who did have thick accents we very quickly found ourselves matching their verbal gymnastics during the conversation but could never produce the effect on command.  I know my voluntary attempts at an accent normally sound somewhere between a scottish and british hybrid who had been drinking too much.

So after having lived in Texas for a while, I was amazed at how little accent I had accumulated, cuz you know, it's Texas.  But up until around 2003-2004, about when I got a job as a phlebotomist (meaning I took people's blood), I suddenly developed something hickish.

At first, it was only when I was coming at people with a needle in hand.  I guess subconsciously I thought I would be less intimidating if I sounded like I could name every cousin, aunt, uncle, 2nd cousin, dog, and truck in my family.  And it seemed to work, people would relax and let me do my job once I started talking about how "Mama is a nurse, and makes the best Apple Pahs, and boy does she love her tea.  Yes Ma'am she does."  And it would just roll off the tongue as natural as if I had done it all my life.

But the longer I held that job the more the "yup" and "ya'll"started to become commonplace in my speech.  Even 5 or so years after quitting that job, when I get tired or drunk I'll start drawing out my A's and I'll hear myself do it and try to reel it back in, but by then it is normally too late.  Someone will be all:

"What did you just say?!"
"Um, I said it looked nice."
"No.  No you didn't.  Say it like you said it just now"
"I don't wanna..."
"Say it!"
"Ugh... That shure looked nahs"

And they'll laugh and say: Awe you have an accent!  And I'll shudder and die a little inside.

But it really isn't all bad.  When it does come out, it still tends to have a desired effect on complete strangers.  People are more likely let down their guard to carry a conversation with me, and a cold personality quickly warms if I need some assistance, and some will smile a little wider when I say "Thank ya so much shug" (Translated as "Thank you so much sugar").

So it isn't a complete burden, and I'm glad I have it even if it does sound a little odd to me sometimes.   Besides, doesn't saying "Oh My Gawd Ya'll!" with a completely straight face just completely explain how excited I am?

Lazy... Crazy!?

So... Let me just say it.  I'm a bad person.  I snicker when people trip, I never call home enough, and I haven't blogged in a long long time.  I think those three things together are going to keep me from getting prime seats for The Rapture.  Don't get me wrong I'll totally score seats, but I won't be able to make out any of the action.  So in an effort to ensure that my eternal entertainment isn't marred by someone too tall sitting in front of me, here is a nice little update for the people who still get lost and find their way to my site.

Recently, I have been a regular font of creativity.  Maybe a muse has touched my prominent brow, maybe I'm slowly being poisoned while I sleep at night, or maybe I'm just beginning my slow descent into dementia.  Whatever the reasoning may be, I have been a man obsessed with trying to think of funny T-Shirt ideas and slogans.

It all started with Snorg Tees.   I read a bunch of cute shirts and thought: "Hey! I can totally do that!"  I come up with little one-liners all the time on my Twitter, and I'm not completely at a disadvantage when it comes to using simple drawing tools.  So I set about copying and pasting and drawing a couple different ideas to submit to Snorg with the hopes that at $150 a pop they might like one or two and I'd be able to say I was a published author read by thousands.

 Let me share some of my creations with you!

Then someone directed me to Threadless where they can pay as much as $500 for a slogan.  The only hitches being that all ideas are put up for community vote, and they limit you to 65 characters.  That is far shorter than my 140 limit on twitter so needless to say I've been having a little trouble formulating some compelling quips.  And the slogans I have thought up have also not been well received by my normally adoring public.

Even though I'm clearly not going to make oodles of money off of my "everyday talent," I realized that it has been a lot of fun thinking up all these things.  So if you all feel the urge, give in and express your creativity in the best way you know how.  While the fiscal rewards may be few and far between the feeling of accomplishment is pretty superb!

The Importance of Reading the Entire Recipe...

This week has been a little tight in the budget department.  So I decided to peruse the internet in search of an affordable menu item to make myself.  I came across this little recipe for Salmon Orzo Salad, which apart cutting my finger (thank God I bought the Pink Salmon right?), and determining that Three Cheese Italian Dressing doesn't exist (it really meant the three cheese ranch), this was pretty easy to make. Go ahead take a look.  Sounds light and delicious right?

And it was light and delicious...  And it continues to be light and delicious.  What I'm betting some of you didn't notice at the first read was the very last paragraph of the recipe says it serves 8.

Instead of a couple of healthy portions, I ended up making enough to feed the entire Brady Bunch Family.  After all when I think salad, I naturally think of feeding 8 people, and really the recipe was a conservative number since I easily got 10 servings from that meal.  Now really it was my own fault for not reading the recipe that deeply.  Most of the recipes I checked had a serving size of 4 so I assumed it would be the same.  And what's that saying about people who assume?

So, Saturday, I finally managed to put the last gallon into little zip-loc bowls to be rationed out for this week.  Ensuring that this light and delicious meal is about to become a long an arduous task, rather like eating my first cup of Jell-O (ugh I hate Jell-O).  And even though it really was easy to make, with the little diced bits of cheese making the dish rather decadent, I probably won't be making it again any time soon.

Moving Forward and also The Problem with Non-Stick

I've been looking at my blog and I've been feeling some sort of change may be in order.  I originally set up this site with a Blogger Template.  Which was simple and very helpful for someone new to blogging.  I would definitely recommend starting out with these templates to anyone who wanted to start broadcasting their thoughts into cyberspace but has zero know-how.  But I've been doing a little research and have been looking at changing the site just a little.  Maybe something a little more eye friendly, and that allows me a little more freedom of expression.

So, over the next couple weeks or so I'm going to be experimenting with a couple of different web design tools, and layouts for the blog.  I welcome (and actually crave) comments and suggestions as to what you all may want to see.  Just remember this ain't Burger King and I'm also still very new, so if you suggest something and I don't immediately do, it may mean I either don't know how, or maybe I just don't want to, so there.

Now that all the serious stuff is out of the way I'm sure you all were craving a little humor when you came here.

So lets take a moment to discuss something almost everyone here can appreciate.  Food (remember I'm a fat kid).

I cannot stress enough the purchasing of some medium quality cooking-ware for your food.  Listen to my real-life cautionary tale... If you are looking at some cooking supplies to start your kitchen as a college student stay away from the $20 area of kitchen supplies.   I thought I was being sneaky when I purchased what I thought was a full set of pans for such an outrageously low price.

Oh Wal-Mart, you mean-hearted bitch.

After a couple months of use I found that I must have exceeded some sort of heat limit on the pans, one night.  On that delightful night, I had made a delicious pasta dish in one of my skillets, and sat down to enjoy the first bite when I was made aware of an inherent flaw in the discount pans.  I had what I thought might be bits of pepper in the dish.  They looked black and small.   But in that first bite I was greeted with a flaky material that I would say was similar to popcorn kernels.  When I reached into my mouth to pull out the offending hard bit it was one of those pepper flakes.  Then I thought:

"When did I add pepper to the sauce?  More importantly why is there so much pepper? I don't even taste the pepper either... Something doesn't seem right about this..."

And then my brain put it together and I rinsed off my pan to get a clear look.  It was terrible.  It had looked like I had taken a cheese grater to the non stick coating!  My pans must have thought they would improve upon my recipe because I looked at my plate and there was definitely a liberal amount of black specks in that dish.  Naturally, my next instinct was to get angry.  I mean, my food had been ruined!  And how dare a cheap piece of equipment backfire on me!  Then I  threw the food and the offending pan into the trash and only after brushing my teeth so furiously that I'm sure I glistened like a diamond in the sun I finally calmed down and ordered a pizza (in keeping with the Italian Theme).

So please if you are planning a kitchen purchase... go for the good stuff.

Worst $20 bucks spent EVER.

The Move... With a Capital M... For Murder?

This past weekend my friends and I moved into our new place.  And really... I could say it went smooth like butter.  That it was a beautiful experience where all of us learned a little more about each other and grew as people.

The reality though is that it was a a lot of work.  Hot, swear-riddled, foot stubbing, heel blistering, heavy lifting work that I never thought would be over.  I think one of my friends best summed it up with:

"This would be over already if you didn't live in a freaking fortress of solitude." 

Which was the main main reason for my move here.  I lived much further from work than was acceptable and this place was much closer.  

Like clockwork, I was having to trek back and forth between the old and new apartments much more than I care to admit (I believe it was 8-10 trips, but I may have exaggerated the memory in my mind).  But let us all go back to day one... A Sunday morning...

It all started out simple enough, I had arrived at the office bright and early at 10:15 AM.  After all, who wants to drag a move out with the Texas heat and everything?  Only to find out... their offices don't open till 1 PM!!  I can't stress this enough.  They don't open their doors early on a weekend at the end of a month when people are obviously going to be moving.

This was just one more irritation that would need to be stifled later... with a milkshake.  But that was fine, I just had a slow start for the morning with the new roommates.  Once 1 rolled around we all headed to the office to pick up our keys and get the move started.  At this point the office said that it looked like we owed them more money.  Naturally my first instinct was to say, "FOR WHAT?... ahem I mean, for what?"  I almost leapt across the table and needed someone to call the police with a list of demands.  

Let me pause here for a moment to explain my strong reaction.  This apartment management has made the signing of this lease sooooo lengthy.  My friend, the DJ, who has lived at his complex for 6 YEARS, was instructed that they would not let us sign the lease until they did the walk through of his apartment.  Which struck me as odd.  If we were coming from a different complex they wouldn't walk that apartment. We just wanted them to treat us as new leasers if they weren't going to give current resident any preferential treatment.  Why on earth would they need that stipulation?  Then, when the DJ (a notoriously clean person to begin with) was ready for them to do the walkthrough, they didn't let him schedule it with them.  They would just get to it when they could.  You know.. no rush.  It wasn't like my lease was ending in a couple weeks or anything.

This, on top of a couple other boring but still equally confusing (and irritating) slip-ups on their part, is why I was so quick to start reaching for the gun I don't own, nor know how to use.

After navigating those turbulent waters we then started the whole moving process of back and forth, lift and turn, drive and park, shove and pull.

Most notably, though, my couch was the most nerve wracking experience of all (at least in my mind).  One very unwieldy sleeper sofa and a love seat do not make for a stress free move, even when the DJ's boyfriend (lovingly referred to as White Guy #1) was kind enough to lend his truck and his expertise for the endeavor.

The 15 minute drive from my place to the new apartment ,with the couches, were wrought with.. Is it slipping? is that a cop? is this stacked too high?  We are sooo country/ghetto...  Look a squirrel!  Focus John.. focus.  Make sure the truck doesn't tip over...

After we finally got that all settled, there were still a number of things to handle but the rest of the evening seemed to go smoothly after that.  I am still unpacking a few boxes, and I'm sure that as the number of unpacked boxes dwindle further, my drive will shrivel into nothing and that last box will be unpacked sometime in February.

I'll end this post to the surprise helper with the Move (shout out to the Diva)!  Hope everyone had a good week/weekend!

When Is A Yard Not A Yard? When It Is An Embarrassing Story About A Spaceship! (And maybe a mention about the move)

I'm working on the post that shows the move in all its glory.  The struggles, the up's, the down's, the point where I thought I might have leapt across a desk and started a hostage situation.  But until that post is done, you will just have to make do as I invite you to share a memory from Virginia..

Way back in the day when I was just a wee little boy (I honestly can't recall how old I was 3, 4 or maybe 5?) I always, so desperately, wanted to hang out with the bigger kids.  They were always playing some sort of fun game, and I just wanted to play too.

One day all the kids were playing: "Pretend this yard area, between the houses, is our space ship." Naturally I wanted to join in too, and anyone who knows me, will know I loved playing imagination type games when I was growing up (symptom of a single person?), so this was right up my alley.

It was so much fun!  We had even sectioned out certain trees as certain parts of the space ship. We had the bridge, where we would steer the ship.  We had an engine room where the engines did their things to make us go fast.  We even had a shuttle area where we could enter out into the "worlds" we wanted to explore. We had thought of basically everything, right?  We thought out so much about the layout of our ship, in fact, that we even designated a tree as... a restroom.

That's right folks, our spaceship had a bathroom.  Our technology was that advanced.

Now I'm gonna stop right here because I noticed you were choking on your drink/food/spit/gum/candy.   So breathe in and out because folks, this story is going right where you think it's going.... in a horribly-embarrassing, life-defining, parents-still-bring-it-up direction.  Ready?

So here we are, in outer-space, we had just finished fending ourselves off from the space aliens or something, and we had this bathroom that no one had used yet.  And then... someone used it.  We little boys were like, well  this is why it's fun being a boy, right?  The world is our urinal!  So all of us took our turn to whiz on this poor poor tree. And then it's my turn.  Only I didn't have to go.

I had already peed earlier and just didn't have a drop to drip.  And while I'm sure none of the kids thought anything of it, all I could think was: "I'm being left out because I don't need to pee!  What am I gonna do.  What can I do?"  I didn't want to be left out.  If I chose not to join in this part of the game, would the older kids think I was being a baby?  

Like most of the bad decisions in my life seem to begin, I had what I thought was a brilliant idea.  And what follows is really nothing more than a testament to my ability to commit to an imaginary role.

I realized I didn't need to pee, but people don't just pee in a bathroom... they do number 2 as well!  And I had a feeling that I could definitely do that at least.  I was saved!  God, I was a genius... My parents were sure lucky they had me around to help think their way out of any tough spots.  So I nonchalantly pop a squat, did my thing, and it was over.  Apart from the whole glossed over point that I DIDN'T HAVE TOILET PAPER it wasn't that gross, and everyone else seemed to take it in stride.  Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Later that day, after heading back home, I think it was my Aunt who told me she had received a phone call.  Apparently, some lady, whose house shared that same yard/spaceship saw that I had taken... creative liberties, and she was very, very upset.  But I explained that I didn't think I hadn't done anything wrong: everyone else had peed and I didn't need to pee, so I went ahead and took a poop.  And the logic behind it, to me was so rock-solid, not to mention absurd, that I think some of that rubbed off on my Aunt (and later my Mom when I had to explain the situation to her too), because I honestly don't remember ever getting in trouble for this.  I just remember my Aunt and Mother laughing... a lot.

To this day my parents and sister like to reminisce about this... normally when there is company, such as unknowing relatives.  After all, isn't that what family is?  People who will invariably remember the things that we really wish they didn't?

On a more serious note...

I thought I'd share this nugget of fun with ya'll...


The Diva shakes his leg a lot while sitting or sleeping and is unaware he does this.  Naturally this caused more than minor irritation to his BF (AKA The Dancer).  One sunday evening, The Dancer said -jokingly- that The Diva may have RLS (Restless Leg Syndrome). The Diva, being a little unsure if he's being insulted, replies "RLS? What is that... Right Leg Shaking?" This of course suddenly got my mind going.  Here is the aftermath that I presented to the group:


Well I guess if RLS is Right Leg Shaking then LLS would be Left Leg Shaking, then if you have it in both legs it would be BLS?  I guess you would pronounce it "Balls"... I can imagine the public service announcement/commercial now...


"The FDA has recently approved a number of new treatments for a disease known as Both Legs Shaking or BLS(said as Balls) for short.  You probably know a number of people how have been affected by BLS(again BLS always pronounced Balls).  Here is a moving testimonial from one woman who suffers from this debilitating condition.


'I'm a busy woman on the go, so when I found out I had BLS I was in shock. BLS didn't just affect me it also affected my family. Naturally, my BLS was a concern for my husband, and it has definitely kept him up at night more than once... and my children were curious about Mommy's BLS and frequently asked questions that I just didn't have the answers too.'


"Research indicates that more than 1 in 5 women will develop BLS in their lifetime.  Also, BLS disproportionally affects women. Very surprising to think that more women have BLS than men.  But there is hope.  A revolutionary surgery that, while still in clinical studies, may help you get rid of your BLS for good. 


"So, ask your doctor if you think you have BLS (especially if you are a woman), as only he can diagnose this. And remember there are literally millions of women with BLS out there who can help you during this journey."


If you keep coming back I'm sure you'll get more immature comedy gold like this!

The Bare Necessities...

Since I promised a blog update this week: A repost/rewrite from a previous blog attempt that totally fizzled... 

I've found that no matter how tight my budget may be, I will always find the money for these things...

Dove Soap
-After growing up in Virginia where the humidity meant never worrying about moisturizing my skin, moving to Texas's dry heat immediately taught me the importance of skin hydration. Should I use a soap other than Dove, my skin gets itchy and it feels like it is stretched tight across my entire body. More specifically (read: only slightly exaggerated), it feels as if my skin has been replaced with seran wrap that has a thin layer of itching powder beneath it. The actual sensation is annoying to put it mildly.   Also, any fat kid will tell you that the feeling of tight clothes makes you feel even fatter.  Now imagine the downward spiral that can commence when it feels like your skin has stretched tightly around your fat.  Yeah it is something of a personal hell for me, can you tell?

Decent Razor Blades
- Right after the move to Texas, family tried to cut back on some expenses. This first and only attempt at razor blades is a real life cautionary tale. My mother saw that the Dollar General had a 10 pack of razors for like a buck. Naturally she must have thought this was total win, and jumped at the opportunity.  I had the misfortune of being the first person to use these... these things... "Luckily," since I was in high school I didn't have much in the way of facial hair so had a small area on my face that I had to shave, yet the pain was so intense I couldn't finish. One swipe of that blade felt like someone was cutting my skin, spraying the wounds with lemon juice, rubbing it with salt, and finaly plucking the hair that remained out one by one.  I could go on in more detail but I think you get the picture.  Naturally, my mother felt I was just being overly dramatic, as teenagers are wont to do. But then she got her own chance with the blades when she went to shave her legs. Suffice to say, she didn't finish her chore either and we both immediately went to the store and gave the bargain bin blades a very wide berth.

Cottonelle Ultra
-Don't grumble in disgust, if you have ever used public toilet paper you know that it is usually 1/16 ply paper that is made from the paper-thin teardrops of baby doves(A favorite line from Dooce.com), or it has a texture of burlap that has been be-gemmed with broken glass. No one should ever have to experience this madness on such a tender area. So I consider it an investment in myself, and for any visitors I have.

So in short, these are three things that if I am at the store I will think... I don't really need fresh food... I have all those extra ketchup packets, and ramen at home.  I could make a spaghetti!  But God help me if I gonna skimp on the shave, shower, and you can figure out the 3rd "S."

What about anyone who reads this? What is something you ALWAYS can always find the money for?

Moooovin' on Up! (Movin' on UP) To the West Side...

The question I’ve heard the most this past week has been: “Have you started packing yet?”  And it isn’t an annoying question at all!!!  Especially when it is repeated through-out the day...everyday.  If I had known that it wasn’t going to be my ability to balance a spoon on my nose, or my awesome dungeon master skillz that would leave such a huge impression on people, but that I would only be judged very strictly on my being able to pack up an apartment in a matter of minutes I would’ve spent a lot more time practicing that high school.  

So let me answer the question... Have I started packing yet? No... Not really.  I’ve done like two boxes max and I have barely scratched the surface.  

It is unreal the amount of junk I’ve managed to accrue in the past 4 years.  It's like somewhere deep inside of me there was this person who thought... I’m going to have an opportunity to fill a bunch of boxes, and I don’t want to miss that!  So I bought and continued to buy things, or take gifts from people in the form of things I didn’t really need but it was soo thoughtful of them to give it to me!

And now, I’m stuck with the aftermath of all those poor buying decisions and wonderful overtures of friendship.  Between the mounds of clothing that I need to wash and box, the stack of bills that I just never could bring myself to destroy, and of course the kitchenware, I’ve got my work cut out for me this week.  

Needless to say (but I'll say it anyways), once I blow torch a couple things, and try to pass some stuff off as antique to the pawn shop, I’ll work on getting a post out this week.  Just have faith that it is coming, much like Jesus... or the pizza delivery guy (even though he is like 5 minutes late which will be reflected in his tip).

A Story About Poop

Let’s take a moment to talk about an important subject: Poop.  According to most studies, everyone does it.  In fact, babies and puppies are often described as being “such good poopers.”  Poop colors our commentary (for example: “Ain’t that some shit”) and most of us, whether we know it or not, have planned our lives around our body’s natural rhythm to generate and dispense of poop.

Naturally, you are wondering one (or both) of two things:  What on earth is he going to talk about in relation to poop? How many times is he going to say the word poop? And I think I will address the first question... first.

While packing some of my things (remember I’m going through that hellish life transition known as moving), I came across an old badge for one of my first jobs.  Some people may reminisce about how different they were back in the day, others might think fondly about what they spent their first few paychecks on.  In my case though the first thing I thought about was... God, I had to clean up sooo much poop there it was ridiculous.  

This eventually made me think, wow I have a number of very strong work memories each associated with poop.  “They” say your olfactory sense(AKA smell) is the most powerful memory producer.  So, I guess poop smells would stick more to my brain than something nice and subtle such as a warm summer day with honeysuckle on the breeze.  With that, let’s take a trip down memory lane and revisit a very powerful memory, in a horse drawn carriage no less(because anyone who has ridden in or near one will know that few other vehicles will provide such a fragrant accompaniment). 

My first job ever was working for a well known Water Park in Williamsburg, VA.  I used to be what was lovingly referred to as, “Area Host.”  In reality that position was a glorified janitor.  

I hated this job so very, very much.  

Probably because it was my first experience with The Public in general.  Prior to this life altering job I used to think most people could be trusted with simple tasks and were accustomed to a bevy of courtesies and routines.  I was soon violently awoken from the fairy tale dream.  

This story takes place at high noon, while I was in charge of manning the Men’s Restroom.  A task relatively gross in nature due to the over bearing smell in such a small, warm, humid space.  On this special day, I had walked into the restroom with my floor squeegee (water park remember), and my toilet wand (that bristle brush thing used to scrape caked on remains), with the expectation that this was going to be like any other day.  

Which is when I saw that one of the urinal’s looked different. Not immediately knowing how it was different I went over for closer inspection, and the thought process that ensued was something like this:

“What is that...Is that dirt?  No its too much to be dirt...Maybe it’s chocolate cake?  Where do we sell cake here, and why would someone bring it into the bathroom? And how did the cake get into the urinal? Oh my god... that’s not cake”

Sadly the thought process didn’t end there:

“I can’t believe someone took a dump in a urinal! Were the stalls that full? Were they in that much of a hurry? Wait... how... how did they even manage to get it in there?  These things are at such a weird angle.  They would have had to have perched on the lip there.  This would have required not just thought but effort! Why didn’t anyone else stop them!  For the love of all things sacred, Why didn’t anyone say, 'Hey, that’s not what that is there for, the use is in the name "URINE-AL"'”

I had so many questions, and at that moment I realized I would never get the answers I so desperately needed to help the world make sense again.  To this day whenever I am a part of, or see a “Customer Service” experience going south very, very fast.  I think to myself: Wow I bet that asshole is someone who craps in urinals.

In answer to the second question: How many times is he going to mention poop?  Not counting this sentence I mentioned 11 poops, 1 shit,  and 2 craps.  

Aren't memories fun?!

To Confirm This Friend Request...

ZO...M...G

So I'm on Facebook. And it's sooo much better than MySpace: cleaner look, no spam friend requests, and just a more secure feel in general. This perfect combination is probably why someone told not just my sister and parents to get on Facebook, but also my aunts, uncles, and even Grandma.

Which, overall, is tooootally fine. My parents have mellowed nicely with age (I've heard them when they drink and get all sharp witted. Where where these people when I was growing up?). My Aunts and Uncles are pretty cool as well.

But Grandma...? I'll admit it, when I was sent that "******** has suggested you add Grandma as a friend, click this link to confirm you know Grandma" I was a little concerned. I don't care how well adjusted you may be, chances are good that some things you post (or have had posted) on your Facebook, may not be something you want Granny to read.

Now I Twitter some hilarious postings for My Status(other people's words, not just mine), and normally post funny comments for other people's walls/pictures. However, every so often I'll work blue and drop the F-Bomb in a status update. Or I'll have friends randomly post the word "PENIS!," or more recently post results to "Which Sex Position Are You?" So the last thing I want Grandma to see is how smutty my friends and I can be.

So being a terrible grandson (and I likely will be reminded of this come judgement day) I figured since she didn't actually request me specifically I could just leave her in Request Limbo and no one would be the wiser. This worked beautifully for two days... then my mother posted (in response to a comment I left) "Yeah even your grandmother is on here now!" At that point I couldn't feign ignorance any longer and I panicked more than a prom queen with a late period.

Thankfully, a kind soul pointed me in the direction of Limited Profiles. And people... let me tell you limited profiles are a beautiful thing.

Basically you assign the person(s) of your choice to a list and can alter your privacy settings so they can only view specific portions of your account. So, let us say if your friends are always posting "Dude you were soooo wasted last night" on your wall, you can click a button and keep people on that list from ever seeing any written postings from your wall. Or if someone decided to tag you while you were mooning a police officer on a dare , a check mark blocks them from seeing any tagged photos. And with these simple steps, the angelic image you worked hard cultivating for a specific group of people remains untarnished. After all, those people will be putting in a good word for you with St. Peter.

So even though I probably over-thought the process (I mean everyone was a kid at one point), for now I'll feel much more comfortable with this setup, and I'm fairly certain she will too. And who knows? In time maybe I'll loosen up and let Grandma have free reign of my profile.

My blog on the other hand... Sorry Grandma, You're on your own with that one.

Catching Up

So... Just to catch the interwebs up:

1. Obviously, I didn't work out like I said I would. And it is fairly clear on who's shoulders that is on... The economy. If the economy had not been in the crapper I wouldn't have been forced to try resuscitate it on my own by supporting my local businesses. Local businesses which happened to take the form of super affordable sushi joints (Shout out to Momiji's!) and movie theaters. I think we can all agree that right now we have to buckle down and really just spend the hell out of ourselves, not waste our time running in place and lifting things just to put them back down again..

2. Single and happy. While I'm sure some day in the future I will gnash my teeth at this, I had to let a perfectly great guy go because I knew at this point in time I just was not ready for the commitment he would want. I finally reached a point in life where the idea of being single doesn't automatically make me curl up into a ball after I stress eat. In fact I've just now really started to enjoy the freedom being single offers.

3. Bringing me to the move that is imminent. I will be moving to a new apartment soon. The details of that will be forthcoming in it's own post. Needless to say I'm completely overwhelmed with the task of packing up my home, while simultaneously being intensely unmotivated to start the packing process. This will likely resolve itself with me throwing a bunch of crap out/donating lots of extra furniture pieces, rather than deal with the actual moving of them. I truly am a child of the disposable era.

So that pretty much helps cover the basics that have occurred since those last couple of posts. If you have questions or comments feel free to post them. Though, if they deal with my grasp of basic grammar rules I may have to ask a gypsy to curse you a la "Drag Me to Hell."

BACK IN THE SWING OF THINGS

This is the fabled Manchineel Tree. A day of idle googling led me to the worlds’ most dangerous tree. The bark, sap, leaves, and fruit (which resemble apples) are all very toxic, if burned the smoke can even cause blindness. Life is full of little surprises isn’t it?

Originally Posted THURSDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2008

So the trip to Virginia was incredible, I came back and was mentally refreshed. Physically I was exhausted and could not wait till the weekend where I could hibernate in a warmer than sub arctic bedroom, on a bed with actual support, and wake up at a time of my own choosing. Those things aside i can’t wait to see my family again! As soon as I get some really good pictures I will post them, I was looking a little snazzy in my shirt and tie.

I’ve recently also come back into contact with a good friend I’ve known for a number of years. He lives in New York and appears to be doing very well. If he’s reading this he knows who he is, and if you don’t know who he is, then just envision my eclectic group of friends and add one more to that visual.

My life seems to be coming into a revival cycle, where doors are opening for me adding interest and vitality to my life. I’m eating better, and as soon as our company gym opens up again I will be going back to my after-work routine to try and get ready for next spring/summer. I’m also starting to get more social, if you know me you might notice that i go through phases of beng incredibly social and being a loner.

This normally also signals a return to the dating world which is occuring so wish me luck. Hopefully I will not end up left tied to a bedpost, slathered in warm windez, with a zipper mask, I mean what are the chances that would happen 4 times in a row right?

THE BIG TRIP!!

Weddings always have this excitement and joy underscored by the horrible depression of every single and aging person in attendance.

Originally Posted WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 2008

Omg! The big trip is here. Tomorrow I fly out to Virginia, and I get to see my parents while I am there. Not only do I get to see them, we get to share a flight! I can’t wait to see them! One is of course because I miss them, the other is because my dad doesn’t fly well, at least he hasn’t in the past. Which means he is either relaxed via alcohol or taking a prescription to get through the flight, and that normally means he is quite funny. I’m a horrible son aren’t I? ;-)

Sadly in case you all didn’t know American Airlines Sucks!!! They now charge you to check a bag of luggage if you fly economy. Can You believe that? $15 to check some bags and that only counts one way if you have a round trip ticket, it is another $15 the other way as well. This trip was kind of expensive but it will be totally worth it in the end. It’s a freaking wedding!

I will get to see some family I haven’t seen for years. Last time I saw them I had just graduated high-school, and now it is 6 years later, and I realize “Hey I have my own life now to talk about, cuz ya know... I’m an adult.” Weird Huh? I know some people have told me to just be cool because they are family and won’t judge you. Except they will deep down, you know family judges you the harshest!!! And the wedding is in my church that I grew up in. A lot of memories there and I look forward to seeing how it has done since my last visit.

ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER DOUGHNUT

And who says people aren’t helpful anymore???

Originally Posted MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 2008

So as I’m sure everyone already knows, and if you don’t, I’m going to go Virginia for a wedding at the end of this month!  I’m very excited about this trip mostly because I haven't seen this family for almost 6 years. The last time I was there I was 18 and now, according to the math, I’m 24.  Get the hell out!  I’m almost a quarter century old.  So I’m a little interested to see how everything pans out though.  It’s gonna be weird cuz I’m an adult now and can drink.  It’s all very dramatic in my mind.  Kind of like the first day of school.  Will they like me? Will we get along?  Will I bore them?  

So my questions aside, I need to bolster my confidence a little.  Since it will be old stomping grounds and all that.  I have been trying quite unsuccessfully to lose some weight.  Mostly my fault, since I have absolutely no will power to stop eating the things I like to eat, but I’ve also been letting myself use another person as an excuse to keep me from going to the gym.  That person is now no longer a reason since I no longer have to plan my day around them (no not a break-up it was a car-pool thing) so that means I can stay late at work and go to the gym without worrying if I will be done in time.  The last time I had this amount of freedom I dropped 30 pounds in 3 months.  The Healthy average is about 8 lbs. a month so I was happily chugging along.  Then old friends resurfaced, I was feeling good about my achievements, and of course I stopped.  

Now I’m getting back in shape and hopefully,  I won’t let small things side track me again till I have nice little biceps and pecs that aren’t reliant on being cold (If you know what I mean then I’ve probably already explained the phenomena to you).  If you see me cheer me on!!!

SOMETIMES, YOU ARE JUST THAT BORED

I can only imagine the sense of accomplishment these people must have felt after they had done this.  That must have been heavy though, have you ever tried to lift one of the CRT thingies?

Originally Posted SATURDAY, AUGUST 2, 2008

So I had a lot of fun last night, lots of fun.  Went out with my friend, drank, talked shit, kept it really laid back.  Then at the end of the night I saw some old friends that I no longer talk too.  Which is a little sad and kinda brought the whole night down for me.  They were a lot of fun to hang out with, but the ringleader just was kind of a bastard to me and while I forgave him, it was the culmination or a lot of little somethings I could never really forget.  

So after the clubs went back to my friends where we ate some of Austin’s best pizza.  If you haven’t eaten there check out their menu http://www.myspace.com/austinonion. I was a little drunk by this point and needless to say the night ended a little awkwardly.  

And now we are back to now.  I have just hopped out of the shower a little while ago, am texting some friends, so who knows if this day will turn out fun or boring.  As of right now... kinda bored.

LAUGH, DRINK, AND BE MERRY!

Quite Possibly the BEST COMIC STRIP IN THE WORLD!!!  Calvin & Hobbes by Bill Watterson was something that I read every single day after school.  I would come home and flip open the Lifestyle section of the paper and see what calvin had been up to!

Originally Posted FRIDAY, AUGUST 1, 2008

Sometimes people take themselves way to seriously.  I would like to think that anyone  who knows me would say that I have a great sense of humor and can usually be found with a ready giggle.  That being said....

I can’t wait to go out tonight!   I plan on doing massive amount of drinking, maybe make-out with someone.  I just need to blow off some steam!  This last week has been pretty much on edge because of some work stuff that had been pretty up in the air.  And even with the outcome not quite the perfect end result I had in mind (let’s face it how much of a chance was there that I would be elected Supreme Leader Of The World?) it is certainly not a bad conclusion.  

Back to the possible make-out session (which will never happen since I’m a prude), the massive drinking (which will because I’m a lush), and hopefully a morning without a hang over (my body has been inconsistent about this so place your bets!).  This will likely be fun, people watching with someone who is slowly reaching the friend zone, vent about the day, and maybe see if I can convince him to strut his stuff on the dance floor.  

Have a great night everyone!!!