My Bad Habit

Closing down shop

2006-05-03T22:55:00.000-04:00

I remember a post that I came across on Chicky's blog about people cashing out of the Blogsphere and not really offering any explaination. Of course, I commented and said something to the effect of "yeah, it's kind of uncool for people to do that." What kind of asshole would I be if I did the same thing?

So I have a lot of things happening. I'm leaving some jobs, starting a new one, moving about 850 miles, and going through some other life changes. I think this blog has been a good experience. It kept me sane during cancer treatment, and was just fun all around. But, it is what it was and it's no longer to be.

I'm not totally disappearing. I'm still reading blogs (and commenting when I can). So, it's less like I'm leaving, and more like I'm just going to shut up and listen.

To all who have visited, thanks for stopping by, and I'll be crashing into your blogs now and again. :P

Black & Tan

2006-04-24T17:51:00.000-04:00

Ok, so there was an big snit in the news about Ben & Jerry's new ice cream, "Black & Tan". The Irish found it offensive because Black & Tans were the "police" (aka death squads) put together by the Brits while the Irish were fighting for independence from the crown.

As an Irish-American, I can understand the offense. It would be like putting out a flavor like "Nutty Nazi" or "Klu Klux Coconut". Generally speaking, it's not a good idea to immortalize bad people, even if it's only ice cream.

However, as an Irish-American, I also could see the bigger picture. Beer-flavored ice cream! How brilliant is that!? Let's face it, they could call it "All Irish people are bastards who must die", and if it's beer-flavored ice cream, I'd still try it.

So, I went to the store today and picked up a pint. I was a bit disappointed when I saw that the "Black" was not Guinness flavored ice cream (it was just chocolate), but I still had hope. The "Tan" part actually tasted kinda like beer. Mixed with the chocolate, however, it tasted more like Tiramisu than a Black & Tan. Overall, it was pretty good, but it needs improvement. Ben & Jerry's needs to focus more on the beer-flavor.

:)

The SWAT team, a misunderstood joke, and a pissed off Easter Bunny...

2006-04-20T13:24:00.000-04:00

all walk into a bar.

But, seriously...

The SWAT Team

Ok, my cousin has become a bit of a dumbass. This time, last year, he was solidly on the med school track, had a good girlfriend (also pre-med), and despite growing up in the same shitty ghetto as myself, he was working hard to get out. I was proud of the boy, and I dare say a tad jealous.

However, he pissed it all away this past year. He broke up with his girlfriend because "he didn't love her anymore". The funny thing was that he was also planning a trip to Amsterdam with some of his boys. Now, these aren't the friends he's had all along, but a new crew he was hanging out with. So, he discovered that he didn't love his girl shortly before his trip to the get-high-get-laid capital of the world.

Oh, med school is also out of the picture. He's gone from pre-med, to pre-pharmacy, to possibly pharmacy, to not-even-sure-if-he's-going-to-be-in-college-next-year. He was fired from his job as a RA, and was kicked off campus. Apparently, there were pictures of him getting wasted on myspace, and his bosses found out. He only has his senior year left, and he might not finish.

Whatever. That's not my business. I have to wonder about this new crew, though. A lot of them are into the drugs/dealing scene, which is totally uncool. There was a huge bust at a university in Connecticut. I'm not saying any names, but if I was this college, my school mascot would probably be a big, white, dog that rhymes with Busky which is known to be used on a dog sled. Some kid (one of my cousin's new friends) was selling Oxycontin and was also caught in possession of a zip gun. It was the SWAT team who made the bust, and my cousin was there when it went down. He got the cuffs and everything, but was not brought in because they figured he had nothing to do with the guns and drugs. He got real lucky. Around here, they would usually tack on an accessory just for something like that.

And who the fuck runs drugs with a zip gun anymore? Really, does it get any more ghetto than that? *shakes head*

Let me qualify my opinions with this...

I'm a very open-minded guy. I don't have a problem with what he did, as much as how he did it, and how he's letting his "party years" ruin his life. Where we grew up, there's a certain degree of "trouble" that one gets used to. However, the key not getting stuck in the ghetto is not making it your life. Hell, the first time I played a PS2 was at a crackhouse, because let's face it, only a drug dealer can afford the opening market prices on a new console. On the other hand, I never touched a rock, and cleared out anytime business was about happen.

Furthermore, my friends and I were no angels back in the day, either. A couple months ago, Domestic Bryan, Sean, and I had a little celebration because the statute of limitations had finally run out on our little "hobbies" back in the day. Granted, we weren't about guns or drugs, but we had a good time. What made us different though is that we never got caught...E-V-E-R. I'm not saying we were flawless, but we were careful enough that we didn't have to worry about the local fuzz. We weren't like these other hoods who talked big and walked big all conspicuous-like. As for myself, I've only been in cuffs once, and it was just some cop trying to throw his weight around over a little "reckless driving". The only time I've been in a courtroom has been for speeding tickets or for law classes.

My cousin on the other hand, just isn't playing it that smart. If he keeps this up, I'd put solid money that he's going to get collared for something serious within the next year or two. But hey, it's not my business.

Though I did have to suffer because of it. Last year, his mother (my aunt) started a tradition where she does a little easter egg hunt with us cousins. Except, instead of easter eggs, it's goodie bags with nips and stuff. Oh, and she serves egg-shaped jello-shots before the hunt. Well, she cancelled it this year because she's concerned that she's setting a bad example for her son (because of all his partying). I can understand her cancelling, but it's his fault that she did. I was really looking forward to that. :)

A Misunderstood Joke

Ok, I've been told I was "wrong" to do what I did next. If it was any other person (than my cousin) or any other situation, I might agree. Two facts:

1) Some (older) family members have been talking a little too much crap about how I should be getting married.
2) My cousin's ex-girlfriend (L) is wicked cool. The rest of my cousins and I consider her to be family.

So our family Easter get-together was coming up. I talked about this with my sister and cousin (not L's ex, but a different cousin) beforehand and they thought it was a good idea. L usually comes to our family shindigs. Now that she wasn't with the cousin anymore, we weren't sure what was going to happen. My solution was to ask her to come as my "date". Now, it wasn't a real date (and I made sure L knew that from the start). We just wanted L to come to the party and hang out. Of course, the funny bit was in telling the rest of the family that I was bringing a "date" to Easter, but not telling them who. The idea was that they'd see L, realize I was yanking their chain, and we'd all have a good time.

However, it didn't exactly go down like that.

My sister ran her mouth off to my aunt who told my cousin (L's ex). Of course, my sister wasn't supposed to tell anyone. At that point, I figured everyone knew so I brought it up at a family get-together before Easter. Nobody had their story straight. At first, people thought L was coming, but with my cousin. Then I had to correct them and tell the family that I was bringing L.

They didn't get it. They started to think that I had been dating L for a while or something. Most people were actually happy about it. L is one of the people that part of my family thinks I should marry (even though she's seven years younger than me). However, my aunt's boyfriend started to give me crap about how I shouldn't be dating my cousin's ex...blah...blah...blah.

I should have further corrected the situation, but I figured I'd have some fun with it...starting with my aunt's boyfriend...

Me: You know, if it was anyone else, I'd agree with you. I'd never date any of my friend's exes. But hey, he broke up with a good woman to party and fuck around. His loss...c'est la vie.
Him: Yeah, well you shouldn't do that to a guy, especially not family.
Me: Well, he was in the wrong. I think that negates that rule.
Him: You should have at least talked to him about it first.
Me: Maybe I would have, but I can't even find the guy. You haven't seen him in a week and the two of you live in the same house.
Him: *bitch bitch bitch*

That's how that went. Personally, I don't think the guy should have been running his mouth. He's started trouble in the past with some super-political left-wing propaganda (most of my family are moderates and don't tolerate extremists on either side) and has been known to offend people on more than one occasion. In fact, on Easter Day, he crossed the line a bit with some rudeness (also not tolerated too well in my family).

So anyways, I eventually corrected the family, and they realized that even though I was the one bring L, it wasn't a real date, we were all just hanging out. Of course, my cousin (L's ex) didn't really care one way or the other.

C'est la vie.

Why I work alone

2006-04-18T22:06:00.000-04:00

I have to vent...

I've been working since I was 10, which is pretty uncommon for someone of my generation. I've had all kinds of crappy jobs. I was a dishwasher, a grocery cashier, a fry cook, a receptionist, an IT technician...to name a few...and this was all before I was 18. I definitely had to miss out on some things growing up because of work. After-school activities, and even college organizations, didn't fit too well into my schedule. But I'm not bitter. I'm actually glad that I put up with all the miserable work when I was younger as it really helped my define my career goals.

One of these goals is to work alone, independently, and without a "boss". It's one of the reasons why I left teaching high school to teach university. It's also one of the reasons why I like my "consulting" job so much. My philosophy is that I don't take a job unless I'm sure I can do it right and do it well. It's why I spent the last few years working in teaching rather than research (I still have some learning to do in that area). I can count my professional screw ups on one hand, and I remember them all.

1) IT Tech.: accidentally installed the wrong software on a computer, which caused a bunch of technical problems.
2) Pharmaceutical Tech.: Unknowingly tipped off a person (trying to fill a fake prescription) that the cops were onto her.
3) Pizza cook: Screwed up my first pizza. It was shaped (and kinda looked) like a football.
4) Research: Discovered a significant flaw in a theory after I submitted my findings.

Bada-bing, bada-boom, that's it. I was able to fix #1 and #4. #2 didn't matter much as the woman was picked up a week later for the attempted sale of perscription drugs (I wonder where she got them...:P). As for #3, I got lucky, it was for a superbowl party. They thought it was so cool, they gave me a $20 tip. :)

On a professional level, I don't get a whole lot of credit. A lot of it is crap from my family who doesn't even understand what I do. However, I also get some crap from colleagues (especially from the consulting job) who disagree with my methods (which, by the way, work). Whatever, I have professional freedom, I'm my own boss, and my clientele likes my work, so the critics be damned. It's just really annoying when people who don't know what they are doing (or what they are talking about) try telling me what to do.

(Sorry for all the code-speak coming up, but I signed a non-disclosure agreement for this project. Of course, I probably wouldn't say anyway. ;) )

However, with the consulting job, I sometimes have to work with project groups (other independent consultants with somewhat different backgrounds). That part is kind of a bummer, but a necessary evil. One of the projects I am working on (we'll call it Project L) involves a group (four other people). Long story short, the project could go in two very different directions (say, X and Y). The client made it very clear that he was not interested in X and was only interested in Y. In fact, it was one of the major highlights in the prospectus. We had a planning meeting recently, and this is a part of the discussion:

Me: Ok, so here's the layout for Project L. As you can see, the client is aiming for Y. Today, we have to figure out how we're going to get there. I'm thinking that focusing on A, B, and C would be a good start, right?

Smart Guy: That works, because we'll also have to consider D and E, but we need B and C in place before that.

Smart Gal: Well, we also have to take F into consideration. If we don't, we could find ourselves ending up at X.

Me: That's good, I didn't even think of F. Any other ideas?

Dumbass 1: Well, we could always do Q and then R.

Me (confused): Um, if we do Q and R, we'll end up at X...that would be bad.

Dumbass 1: Yeah, I know, but I really think X is the better option.

Dumbass 2: I was thinking the same thing, but adding S. It will get us to X quicker.

Smart Guy: Uh, but the client wants Y.

(this next smart ass comment totally made my day, and I wish I said it.)

Smart Gal: Yeah, see, the thing about X, is that it's not Y. In fact, if you were to put Y in Moscow, X would on the beach in Buenos Aires.

Dumbass 2: Well, if I was the client for Project L, I would think X is the better way to go.

Me: Are you the client?

Dumbass 2: Uh...no.

Me: *gives him the do-you-realize-what-a-dumbass-you-are look*

Dumbass 1: Maybe we should call the client and ask?

Me: Oh, you mean the same client that primed us on Project L and specifically stated that he understood X very well and was absolutely certain he did not want that?

...and we moved on. Smart Guy told the client about this exchange when giving him a status report, which got the two dumbasses removed from the project. I thought it was a little overkill, but at least things are running smoother now.

And this is why I like to work alone. Peace, quiet, and the job gets done twice as fast.

Yeah, I know, who cares? "Brota, we would rather hear the story about morbidly foul strip clubs or your piss-drunk friends.

Well, sorry, I just wanted to vent today.

But I'll tell you what, my next post will be about Easter Weekend, a joke gone wrong, and my cousin getting arrested by a SWAT team...not necessarily in that order. :)

Is it just me?

2006-04-15T01:04:00.000-04:00

So I've been in bed for the past hour, unable to sleep, and I thought I'd blog about it.

It usually takes me hours to fall asleep. It's been like this for as long as I can remember. Even as a kid, I would lie down to go to bed, and I'd still be awake hours later. The all-nighter I pulled earlier this week wasn't even because I had a lot of work to do. I just couldn't fall asleep that night.

Actually, I did get some good sleep for a few years when I was in undergrad, but I was smoking alot of weed at the time, so...

I'm wondering, is there something odd with me? I remember seeing some news report or some such that said it took the average person about a half an hour to fall asleep. The fact that it usually takes me 4 hours or more makes me wonder. Like, maybe I'm doing something wrong.

The good part of it is that there's really no negative effects. Even when I pull all-nighters, I'm not tired the next day. And when I do get to sleep (at around 4am), I have no problem getting up by eight if I set my alarm. Still, I think I might prefer more normal sleeping habits.

I think part of the problem might be thinking. I literally don't stop thinking. Every waking hour is spent actively thinking about something or another. Even when I'm having a conversation with someone, I usually only catch half of it because I'm also thinking about a few other things at the same time.

So when I lie down to sleep, I'm still thinking. Tonight, as soon as I hit the bed, I started thinking about how I should discuss such-and-such with a colleague about one project, and also how I could improve another project with so-and-so, and how I have to remember to run an errand tomorrow before I visit my grandparents, and so on.

The thing is, it's not stress. I'm not a worrier in general. Even when I had the cancer, the only thing I really thought was, "Great! Now I can make all the cancer jokes I want and people can't get mad." I'm actually happy to be working on the projects that I'm working on. I enjoy it more than my regular job. Also, grandparents are always fun, so there's no stress there. Regardless, I don't always think about work...I just think about things that need to be thought about.

I'm a die-hard analyzer. So, maybe that is what is keeping me up. I don't know.

What I want to ask anyone who reads this blog is what do you do when you go to bed? Do you just drift right off to sleep? Do you think a lot like I do? Something different? What's the story?

Mo' money, mo' problems...

2006-04-12T18:01:00.000-04:00

So I haven't blogged much this past week, nor have I read too many blogs. Things have been a little hectic for me.

I kind of took on another job, but I won't say what job. All I'll say is that it falls under the category of "consulting". And no, it has nothing to do with porn or sex, and it's not illegal, and not generally considered to be immoral (though there are those who would disagree).

Nobody knows about it except for the people I work with. My RL friends and family don't know about it either, and if any of you read this and call me up asking about it, I'm not talking. I won't say that I'm embarassed about the job, but yeah, I kind of am. In a way, it's a guilty pleasure. The work is challenging, creative, and analytical...my three favorite things. The job doesn't exactly have the best reputation, though. The main reason for this is the people I work with, who, by the way, suck. Seriously, when it comes to my clients and colleagues, there isn't a single one that doesn't grate on my nerves in one way or another.

But I like the work. It's fun, and I enjoy it. If it wasn't for the bad rep the job has, the people I would have to deal with on a day-to-day basis, and the less than impressive financial reward, I would do this as a career. Instead, it's just my little secret on the side.

Speaking of fun job stuff, my father got to play around on an F-22 Raptor flight simulator today, instead of doing actual work (which is aircraft related). I'm not talking about some lame-ass computer program, but the full-cockpit console with which they train USAF pilots. The new software/hardware on these things is just amazing. I could blab about it all day. He also got to play with the weapons, too (just sim, but he got to check out the tech). He shot down four MiGs. Lucky bastard...

Relatively Normal (part 2)

2006-04-08T10:32:00.000-04:00

I am definitely a bit of a flirt. Many times, I flirt without realizing it. Truthfully, I do not consider it flirting, just witty banter. However, I have been told on many occasions by many people that what I consider to be "witty banter" is actually flirting. So, ok, I am a flirt. Is that so bad?

The reason why I did/do not consider it technically flirting is because of how I flirt. This is a bit difficult to explain. I would say that I flirt more intellectually than sexually. There is the occasional double entendre, but only if it is actually funny. Not only do I do this because sex is more than just sex to me, but flirting solely on a sexual level is a conversational cop-out. I cannot really give an example, as it all depends on the situation and conversation in play.

The problem with a 17-year-old boy flirting like this with a 17-year-old girl is that the 17-year-old girl either cannot keep up with it, or is just scared off. I assume that they are expecting the 17-year-old boy to keep it simple and sexual, and anything more is just weird. At 27, I still have this problem with 27-year-old women, though to a somewhat lesser degree. Whatever. I am not changing.

On the other hand, do you know who can appreciate "witty banter"? Older (or more mature) women, apparently. And that is where the cop's wife comes in.

We just talked, and it was cool. I was finally having intelligent conversation with someone. This could possibly have been my first friendship with an intellectual bond. We talked, bantered, and probably even flirted. We even shared certain intimate details of our lives. I would not say that it was too much information, just what close friends might talk about. Until a certain point, these intimate details never involved the two of us together. It was mostly our attitudes towards sex and intimacy, basic information about certain experiences, and attempts at a better understanding of the other gender. Eventually, she attempted to move our relationship in a more provocative direction.

Like I said, I did not do anything with her. I am not a religious person, but I completely respect and value the sanctity of marriage. I was not going to be a homewrecker. I would like to think I was clear about that from the start, but I probably was not. Regardless, this did not stop her from "doing things on her own", later telling me what she did, and what/who she was thinking about at the time (it was not her husband). She also started buying me gifts, and some were a little expensive.

This "change" came on rather fast. I stopped it as soon, and as gently, as I could. Obviously, I had to return the gifts, and we went our seperate ways. It was unfortunate. I only hope it did not cause problems in her marriage. Of course, her husband had a badge, a gun, and a temper, so I did not exactly stick around to find out.

(side note: It was about five years later when I learned that this type of thing is considered to be an "emotional affair". Of course, this was information that would have been handy five years before. Better late than never, though, right?)

Yeah, I am supposed to be Mr. Marital-happiness-and-stability-expert. Enjoy the irony, I sure do. :)

So, when I said I would be happy with a relatively normal relationship, I meant relative to all this. If a woman is not a fanatic psycho spiritualist, a delusional hood-rat wannabe, or married, and can hold her end of a conversation, that is a good start with me.

Relatively Normal

2006-04-06T21:51:00.000-04:00

Ok, so here it is. Yes, the story about the cop's wife is in here. Beware of the irony.

When it comes to relationships, I am actually considered an expert. This is not my own opinion, but the opinion of (other) academics and researchers who develop the theories that are used in everything from marriage counseling to cheesy articles in Cosmo. The work that I do is primarily centered around marital happiness and stability as well as partner selection. I have not even finished my Ph.D. and I am already being encouraged to work with one of the largest research centers in my field.

With all this in mind, you would think that I would tend to have happy and stable relationships, right? This is where the irony comes in.

There was the one girlfriend who eventually told me that she believed I was a god. I do not mean god in the I-am-great-in-bed sense. No, no, no. She literally thought I was the incarnation of the god Chronos, Master of Time. She was also under the impression that she was the incarnation of the goddess Chloe, Mistress of Fate. Of course her ex-boyfriend was the god something-or-another, Master of Pain. She said that if I ever left her, she would kill herself. Now, I could live with that until she added, "but I'll kill you first."

Of course, when she said that she wanted to keep my penis in a jar beside her bed, I had to break it off. Not my penis, the relationship. She never ended up killing herself, and obviously I got off the hook. It was the one time I could appreciate that people of my generation cannot finish what they start. I told a friend (that had set me up with her) about it afterward and he said, "Oh yeah, I should have mentioned she had a weird religion thing going on."

There was also the girl who was pretty normal, at first. Then she started telling me a bunch of crap about how she was involved in the Chinese Triad. This is not as crazy as it intially sounds. Where I grew up, there were a lot of gangs. We had the Latin Kings, the Bloods, and a couple other smaller groups. However, one group we did not have were the Triads. Furthermore, one night when she had told me she was going on a "job" with the Triads, she was actually hanging out with some friends watching some movies. After I broke up with her, she spent a month trying to get me back while apologizing for (though not explaining) the whole thing.

The cop's wife came along during my first year of college. Now, I technically do not consider this a relationship because I did not actually do anything. Of course, the essence of the story is in that I would not do anything. I considered her to be more of a friend with whom I happened to flirt a bit. It may seem odd for a 17-year-old to have a 36-year-old friend. However, because of the family in which I was raised (a little "old world"), it was not uncommon for me to have friendly relations with people as old as 80 or so.

Also, I should add, she may have been 36, but she was a semi-pro figure skater who settled into a teaching/coaching career when she married. Anyways, that kind of exercise can keep a woman young. All I am saying is that if she was actually single, things could have gone differently. As it was, we were merely engaged in a little harmless flirting...for the most part.

You may be thinking, "What is a 17-year-old boy doing flirting with a 36-year-old woman?"

Well, that is a very good question, and I would be happy to answer that, when I have a little more time. :)

(to be continued...)

I'm on TV...and, is it a little weird in here, or is it just me?

2006-04-04T21:48:00.000-04:00

I don't even know how many times I've killed my television. But there's always something bringing me back. Goodnight Sweetheart, Red Dwarf, Rollergirls, and now Teachers. Not only is it funny, but my philosophy and professional behavior (or lack thereof) is perfectly portrayed by the "Jeff" character. Seriously, the main reason why I stick with university teaching is because when I've used my methods in a high school, I tended to get a little...well...fired. I'm already anticipating the faculty meeting that's going to come about due to a "class exercise" I'm planning in a few weeks (which would cause a lawsuit in a public school).

I know TV is not good for me. I know I should make a clean break. Nevertheless, I'm drawn into TV again, but just for this show. Besides, considering my track record with TV shows, it will likely be cancelled within months and I'll be back to killing my TV.

Ok, so I posted not too long ago about a little weirdness that has been going down. The situation had somewhat simmered down since, but has now become totally insane.

Forget about B trying to hook me up with her daughter. I'm fairly certain B is trying to get some action for herself. She's started this habit of giving me "hello hugs" and really drawing them out, sometimes telling me how nice I smell. She's also "joked" about moving out west with me. Recently, during a hug, she kind of tried to kiss me on the neck. WTF!? Since then, I've been keeping my distance.

The woman is twice my age. She's not my type for many reasons, the age thing being one of them.

This has only happened to me once before. I was 17, and she was a 36-year-old amateur/pro ice skater who was married to a cop. But that's a totally different story...

I do keep a good sense of humor about it. Let's face it, life is funny. A lot of my guy friends have the good girls and solid relationships and wish they had the freaky shit that gets thrown my way. I, on the other hand, am totally not into this freaky shit and would be plenty happy having a relatively normal relationship with a relatively normal woman. C'est la vie.

Hair Wax?

2006-04-03T18:54:00.000-04:00

Has anyone ever heard of this?

I'm not talking about the stuff used for hair removal. I think it's also called Pommade or something like that. It's used like mousse or gel. I remember hearing about it quite some time ago on like Queer Eye for the Straight Guy or a show like it.

I ask because I'm sick of using gel. I have good hair, and it's pretty thick (I blame the Italian in me). The problem with this is that there's a fine line between too much gel, and too little gel. And there's no way to tell which side of the line I'm on until my hair dries. It rarely comes out just right.

So, I remember hearing about this hair wax kind of stuff that's supposed to be way better, but I don't know anything more. I tried to Google it, but just got a bunch of crap on hair removal.

Anyone know what I'm talking about?

My First Meme

2006-04-02T12:07:00.000-04:00

I can't say I'm big into memes (as this is the first one I've done in the six months of having a blog), but I'm such a music whore that I could not pass it up. Basically, I have to answer each question with a song title of a particular artist. So I am picking the late, the great, Frank Zappa.

1) Are you male or female? Honey, Don't You Want a Man Like Me?
2) Describe yourself. Trouble Every Day
3) How do some people feel about you? Is That Guy Kidding or What?
4) How do you feel about yourself? Flakes
5) Describe your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend. Catholic Girls (though I was tempted to go with Why Does It Hurt When I Pee? just because it would have been funny. :P)
6) Describe your current significant other. Lonesome Cowboy Nando (closest song title to "currently single")
7) Describe where you want to be. Outside Now
8) Describe how you live. We're Turning Again
9) Describe how you love. Magic Fingers
10) What would you ask for if you had just one wish? A Token of My Extreme
11) Share a few words of wisdom. Broken Hearts Are For Assholes
12) Now say goodbye. Let's Move to Cleveland

Though I was really tempted to go with Smashing Pumpkins.

1) Are you male or female? Spaceboy
2) Describe yourself. Rocket
3) How do some people feel about you? Smiley
4) How do you feel about yourself? Obscured
5) Describe your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend. Blew Away
6) Describe your current significant other. I Am One
7) Describe where you want to be. Galapagos
8) Describe how you live. Whir
9) Describe how you love. Sweet, Sweet
10) What would you ask for if you had just one wish? Zero
11) Share a few words of wisdom. Here Is No Why
12) Now say goodbye. Farewell and Goodnight

I blog about the gym too much, but still...

2006-04-01T21:31:00.000-05:00

So part of my new program entails hitting the gym first thing in the morning. Well, first thing in my morning, which is probably a little later than most people's mornings. Still, I get there by 9:30, so it's still, you know, technically morning. One thing I've noticed is that attractive women don't hit the gym at 9:30 in the morning, just old men. On the upside, this means I have no distractions. On the downside, this means I have no distractions.

Apparently, old people can be assholes, too. Now, I have a good deal of respect for the elderly. One of my jobs involves working around the elderly. Furthermore, my grandparents are pretty old, and I like them. However, old people at the gym are a different story. On Friday, I had to wait for the Delt/Rear-Seated Row machine. An elderly man was using it, so I did other work (it would have been rude to hover). I get to the machine right after him and he screwed with all the adjustments when he was done. The chest pad was set all the way in (as if for a really short person), but the seat was dropped all the way down (as if for a taller person). Basically, it was set for someone who was 7' tall, and had arms that were less than 2ft. long. It only bothered me because all the gear in the gym sticks so it's a pain to readjust things.

Furthemore, he put the linchpin in at 250lbs., as if he was actually doing that (he was probably doing 50lbs.). I could really care less about the linchpin. Almost every single guy at the gym does crap like that. It's just one more thing that I see "super-macho" ubermench guys do at the gym that's just stupid. On a side note, Bruce Lee could only bench 135lbs. and he was one bad ass mo' fo'. Yet, all this roid-raging uberdudes feel the need to hit the whole stack (even at the sacrifice of proper form) or at least give that impression. Oi...

I've heard that there are gyms that are like, just for women. I don't mean stuff like Curves, but real gyms. I want to go to one of these gyms. I bet these gyms are all tidy, and all the women put away their weights when they're done, and people are there to actually work out and not just strut like a ponce.

Anyways, the weather has been great the past couple of days. I had to spend Friday afternoon running errands and I would have rather done so on skates or a bike than in my car. Note to self: get your shit together and buy some skates and a bike. It's actually pouring out as I type this, but I'm stuck at work so I don't care.

Birthday Greetings to Hammer

2006-03-30T20:30:00.000-05:00

In case you didn't know, today is M.C. Hammer's birthday. I found out because he apparently has a blog on Blogger, which I found through another blog. Pretty cool, eh?

I'll be honest, I wasn't so much into the Hammer back in the day. Let's see, that was like the late 80s, early 90s? I was 12 and probably listening to a lot of AC/DC, some Megadeth, and probably a little Poison. But he does love music for music's sake, so you have to respect that. Also, I did catch a bit of him on the Surreal Life. He seemed like a genuine guy who could really appreciate life and people. After all, everyone knows he lost all that money because he kept buying stuff for friends and family. How can you not like a guy like that?

Anyways, I dropped him some birthday wishes over on his blog. Maybe you all should, too. :)

It's on like Donkey Kong

2006-03-29T22:50:00.000-05:00

I had some free time last night, so I redesigned my training program and started it today. Today involved doing my interval training first thing this morning (before eating). I also threw in some chest and back work before my intervals just for kicks. Previously, I would do all my workouts in the afternoon, after I had a couple of meals. Furthemore, I'd usually have a small glass of orange juice and maybe some quick carbs right before I'd work out for some extra energy.

Intervals kicked my ass today. I couldn't even do a full 45 minutes. After 30, I was spent, and finished up with regular cardio. I didn't even think I'd make it to 30. By 15, I was thinking that I'd stop at 20. At 20, I figured that I might as well push to 25. Then, at 25, I decided that I'd tough it out for an even 30. Finally, at 30, my mind said keep going, but my legs told me to fuck off. I'm not disappointed, though. 30 is pretty good on an empty stomach.

Anyways, I'm really getting psyched about moving. In about two months, I'm taking a trip out west to do some apartment hunting, and then making the move another 6-8 weeks after that. The moving itself is going to suck, but I think I'm going to like where I'm going. I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I'm going to be the first person in my family (extended family included) with a Ph.D. It's actually pretty ironic as (when I was younger) I was thought of as the family member most likely to end up in prison.

Man, I love irony.

It's in the basement of the Alamo

2006-03-27T22:22:00.000-05:00

Well, my spring break is officially over. I have to go in and teach tomorrow. C'est la vie...

I didn't get any good nutrition advice from any of my research. It was all info I already knew. I did get some good ideas to restructure my workout, though. I'll probably have a new program together by next week.

I finally found a use for my old broken computer (along with another old computer I had). I gave them to Domestic Bryan. He's under the impression that he can fix them. Granted, most of the parts are good, but I doubt anything will come of it. If so, good for him. He could use the gear. Other than blogging and email, I'm sick of computers myself. In exchange, he's going to kick me the cash to buy inline skates (originally, I was going to use part of my tax refund). So, in a way, it's like free stuff.

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure is playing on Bravo. Yes, I've technically boycotted television, but there are exceptions to every rule. I think I was about 8 when that movie first came out. It was the perfect movie for an 8-year-old, and I'm not ashamed to say that it's a pretty good movie for a 27-year-old. It also marked my first (of very few) celebrity crushes. Of course, I'm talking about Elizabeth Daily. She's cute, nice, and could really trick out a bike (at least her character could). What more could an 8-year-old want in a woman? :)

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Brota, only immature little babies like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure."

Well, I know you are, but what am I? :P

Some randomness...

2006-03-25T23:27:00.000-05:00

1) Regarding St. Patrick's Day...I realized that I do not have a common ground with the people I like, and I don't like the people with whom I have a common ground. This is becoming a growing problem with no real solution in sight.

2) I think fad diets are a load of crap. Atkin's, South Beach, whatever. All they really do is take a single good idea and build an entire diet around it. Recently, I got the idea that if I compile all the good ideas from the "fad diets", I could end up with a more effective training diet. So I've been researching that a lot lately. Hopefully, I'll develop something good. If not, at least I tried.

3) It's been hard to blog when there's been nothing going on. Most of my time lately is spent loafing around, researching #2, and...well...more loafing around.

4) I'm really looking forward to moving. I'm starting to get a little impatient.

5) Bad news, my grandfather probably has prostate cancer. What are the odds that he and I would both get cancer within a year of each other? The good news, the type of prostate cancer they believe he has is so slow growing that even if it goes untreated, it probably wouldn't kill him before he dies of natural causes.

6) I just found out my cousin is having twins. Good for him. I also found out that twins are more common than I thought in my family. I would be so stoked if (when I have children), I have twins.

In the meantime

2006-03-20T20:11:00.000-05:00

I haven't blogged in a while. Whoops.

Mondays seem so empty now without Rollergirls. Damn A&E.

I started interval training today on the eliptical. I did 20 minutes at 2min/2min, 10 minutes of regular cardio, then another 15 minutes at 2min/2min. It is definitely a step up, but according to all the research, it's more effective (all around) than ordinary cardio.

I'm currently on spring break. Technically the break is for the students, but if they aren't around, then it's a break for me, too. The weather just sucks, though. It's supposed to be cold all week. Then again, it's not like I had any big outdoor plans on my dance card anyway.

I haven't blogged about St. Paddy's or the weekend for a good reason. Basically, I'm trying to make a long story short. Maybe another time...

What the fuck is a Valid Victorian?

2006-03-15T23:21:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I had to grade some papers tonight. My students (college level, mind you) had to write a paper comparing college and high school cultures using some of the theories from class. I got some real choice papers this time around.

One student wrote about how all the cheerleaders in her school were pretty, except for the "fat one that they just let on the squad for no good reason".

Another student wrote, "...the best example of a symbol would be that of a principle. The principal represents..." Oi, pick one or the other, kid.

Then, "Most G.E.R.s [General Education Requirements] are pointless and have nothing to do with your major." Not that I care if they think my class is a waste of time, but it's pretty stupid to put it in a paper. Imagine if I was a professor who cared?

And finally...my absolute favorite...

"When you have high grades all the time like straight A's you can become a Valid Victorian."

I'm assuming he wasn't the "Valid Victorian" of his high school class.

You might be an asshole and not know it...

2006-03-13T18:53:00.000-05:00

So I was at the gym today and started at the leg press machine. The person who used it before me, whoever it was, is a total jackass. Not only did he leave his weight on the machine (as most people do), but there were about a dozen 45lb. plates just scattered around the machine. Like it would have been too much drama for him to put the plates back on the racks that are not even 5ft. from the machine.

Now, I'm not assuming that it was a male because of all the weight. However, most of the time, I've noticed the women clean up their weights when they're done. The men, on the other hand, are the opposite. They'll use the racks or dumbbells and just leave the gear on the floor.

And it's not even like I'm a neat freak. My own place is a mess, I have paperwork, CDs, and DVDs everywhere. But it's my place, and I'm the only person who has to deal with it. On the other hand, many people use the gym, and a little consideration goes a long way.

Anywhos, I got my Matisyahu and Fall of Troy CDs today, so that was a good thing. They are both having a show on April 10th, and I'm trying to decide which one to see. Matisyahu is going to be in Rhode Island and Fall of Troy will be in Boston. Even though it will cost more, I'm leaning towards Matisyahu, if only because I hate driving around Boston (or even on the Mass Pike in general).

Right now I'm only blogging because I'm trying to put off sorting through all the clothes I bought this weekend. I have three huge bags of clothes to sort through. I basically have to clean out my closet to make some room. Being naturally unorganized, I'm trying to avoid it. However, I'm about to get started because the only thing I have left to blog about is my...

Rollergirl Recap

This weeks recap is going to be short because there is NO ROLLERGIRLS TONIGHT! Not even a repeat! Instead, A&E is showing some lame-ass documentary about polygamy. Like I care. Furthermore, there's also no How I Met Your Mother. It was replaced with some lame-ass sitcom with that woman from Seinfeld. I hope it gets cancelled this week so we can get back to my regularly scheduled programming.

Now, I'm not a big TV watcher, but Monday is like my only TV night. At 8:30, there's How I Met Your Mother, then Two and a Half Men, then a half-hour of nothing, then Rollergirls at 10:00. The best part about it is that it's Monday, nothing else is really happening anyway.

Update: I just did a search on A&E's site. Apparenly, Rollergirls is getting cancelled. Fuck TV, I'm back to boycotting it.

Ok, time to organize my closet.

When it rains, it pours (Saturday installment)

2006-03-12T20:48:00.000-05:00

So I had to wake up early on Saturday to meet Sis in Manchester. We had planned another shopping trip. Unfortunately, the sales were not -as- good, but I still got some good deals. I spent close to $300 between shopping and lunch, and I had only really intended to spend about half that. I'm not too worried, though, as I'm getting a pretty sweet tax return and I was planning to spend about half of it on fun stuff. As is, I'll still have plenty of my return left over.

Anyways, we made a pretty good killing. I got a pair of khakis, a pair of jeans, two pairs of shorts, a belt, a few pairs of boxers, and at least a dozen shirts (mostly polos and button-downs) for $260. We tried to find these shoes for under $50, but no luck. I also picked up Scab Dates by The Mars Volta at a music store that was going out of business. It was an impulse buy, but it was on my amazon wishlist, which meant that I would have bought it eventually. Besides, it was only about $10. It's a pretty decent album (it's from one of their live shows), but they are definitely a better band in the studio than the stage.

Afterwards, we went to my great-grandmother's house. She just turned 94 that day, but she's as healthy as someone 20 years younger. My cousin and his wife are trying to have a baby, so there's a very good chance she's going to be a great-great grandmother by next year. Anyways, a bunch of family stopped by her house, and there was cake, but I behaved* and kept it light.

At some point before dinner, I wanted to fit in time to go to the gym, but it just didn't happen.

It was about 5:30 by the time we left ggmas. I was supposed to go to Domestic Bryan's for dinner, but I totally forgot about it until I was out to dinner with Sis and the folks. DB was having a big family dinner with his parents, brother (with wife and kids), and sister (with kids). I felt bad about missing dinner, especially since I hadn't seen DB's brother (wife and kids included) in years. In any case, I stopped by afterwards, as most of them were staying the night anyway. I may have missed dinner, but I was in time for dessert. Once again, I tried to behave*.

DB and his family are like a second family to me...to the point where his sibling's kids call me "Uncle Mike" (yeah, I realized I let my real name slip...so much for anonymity :P). Anyways, I had the most fun with my "niece". She's six years old and (like myself) has an insane amount of energy. This kid is the most hardcore "Simon Says" player that you will ever find. I also had a chance to catch up with the rest of DB's family.

If only every weekend could be so action-packed...

*As for behaving, I've started counting calories. I have the thinnest layer of fat to trim off of my abs, and since I'm so close to a six-pack, I want to go all the way. I'm completely reworking my weight routine, and looking into some changes for my cardio. I'm also trying to find a new active (and fun) hobby to take up, but once again I am limited by generally lousy weather and there just not being much to do around here.

When it rains, it pours (Friday installment)

2006-03-12T11:52:00.000-05:00

Ok, so on Wednesday, you heard me winge on about how there's nothing to do and the weather sucks and blah blah blah, and this weekend has totally blown my bitching out of the water. Fun stuff just popped up everywhere, and the weather was great.

Anyways, my original Friday plan was:

1:00 - Oncology appt. in New Haven
4:00 - meet up with Domestic Bryan and Sean for an early dinner
6:00 - Go to a show with a bunch of local bands
9:00 - Go to a lesbian birthday party at a strip club

And what actually happened:

As expected, the doctor was running late. No suprises there. But, I'm still cancer-free so I'm not complaining.

I met up with Sean by 4:30 and we spent the next 2 hours dealing with DB's drama about going out. He didn't feel like going to Ruby Tuesday's (which was fancy considering how he was dressed) because he was a little grungy from work. He also didn't feel like gussying himself up to Ruby Tuesday's level. Whatever. In the end, he choose to stay home. Sean and I finally got to the restaurant by like 7:00, had a bite to eat, and went back to Bryan's.

By this point, I totally missed the show.

Originally, I was just aiming to drop off Sean and be on my way to the party, but when they asked where I was going "in such a hurry", I told them about the birthday party...for which they "asked" me to get them an invite. DB was more than willing to clean himself up. Being the friend that I am, I set it up and told them where to meet me.

Before the party, I had to meet a friend at her place. A bunch of us were going to leave from there. However, someone else had just put on Just Friends, which I got sucked into. So I told the party crew to go ahead without me and that I'd meet them there.

Just Friends was hilarious, and I'm glad I stayed behind. Unfortunately, in the early scenes, where he was made up to look all fat and goofy, I happened to notice that we had very similar hair. I made a mental note to get a haircut this week.

So the movie ends and I go to the lesbian bday party. Now, the strip club wasn't Electric Blue, but it was owned by the same guy, and was just as bad. There were only like three girls that would alternate on the stage, and they weren't what you would call "attractive". I swear, everytime I go to a strip club, I question my sexuality. I mean, I'm not gay, but these strippers make me wish I were.

There were a bunch of the people at the party that I was meeting for the first time. Within minutes, I had them semi-convinced that I was gay. What did I care? They were lesbians, and I didn't intend to hook up anyway. It was actually pretty funny. They kept on going back and forth between thinking I was gay, and thinking I was straight. Two of them got into a little friendly debate over it.

At one point, Domestic Bryan, April, and the birthday girl were kind of pushing the same dollar between each other to inflict upon each other a nasty stripper dance. I was sitting at the end of the group, kind of between where the stripper was "dancing" and where they were sitting. She saw what they were doing and I heard her say, "Yeah, you can take that dollar and shove it up your asshole!" Apparently, they didn't hear it.

For most of the night, pretty much nobody (including the club's other patrons) was at the stage. Instead, most people hung out at the bar. It must be a pretty big hit to one's self esteem to not only be a stripper, but to be a stripper that nobody even wants to pay a dollar to see naked.

Whatever, though. We had a great time hanging out.

We hung out there until last call, and then called it a night. It worked for me, I had another action-packed day on Saturday for which I needed to rest up.

(to be continued...)

Brainfarts (revisited)

2006-03-08T18:20:00.000-05:00

I totally forgot to blog these past couple of days, which is unusual as it means I missed my...

Rollergirl Recap

Ok, so last night focused on the bout between the two undefeated teams on the league (Rhinestone Cowgirls and Holy Rollers). It was easily the most vicious bout I've seen yet, and also the best. The competition was just fierce, and the bout was neck and neck until the end, when the Rhinestone Cowgirls took the win.

It was kind of hard to choose who to cheer for, though I was mainly cheering for the Holy Rollers. My main reason is because it was Sister Mary Jane's (captain of the Holy Rollers) last season to skate before moving to Maui with her boyfriend. It would have been pretty cool for her to end with an undefeated season.

In Other News...

There really is no other news. I'm keeping the MySpace page, but that doesn't mean I'm going to neglect the blog. Or, I should say, that isn't why I've been neglecting the blog. I'm aware that I've broken the habit of daily posts, but that's just because of time constraints and lack of inspiration.

I've spent most of my time on the hunt for new music. Recently, I bought a couple of CDs from Amazon, Doppelganger by Fall of Troy, and Youth by Matisyahu. MySpace has a load of artist websites where you can sample new music (and entire songs, not just 30-second clips like at Amazon). I think I've been spending more time on that than on my MySpace page.

Otherwise, I've been pretty restless. I've really wanted to get out and do something, but there just isn't much going on. Domestic Bryan and the lot of them are practically in hibernation. I've been jonesing to go kayaking for a while, but the weather is just terrible for it, not to mention that many of the lakes and such are still a little...well...frozen.

Stupid winter...

Brainfarts

2006-03-06T23:14:00.000-05:00

Ok, so the route I take to get to the gym is similar to the route I take to get to my weekend job. The major difference is that there is one point where the road forks and the left takes me to the gym whereas the right takes me to work. Both days this weekend, I totally had a brainfart and took the left road when going to work. I think it was my subconscious telling me where I'd rather be.

I also had, this weekend, what I'm going to categorize as the mother of all brainfarts. I was surfing around Myspace just to see who else is on there that was in the same class as me in high school or in the colleges I attended. I came across this profile. Apparently, not only was I in the same high school as this smoking hottie, but we were also in the same class. For the life of me, I do not remember her at all. Not remembering people from high school (or even college) is typical for me, as I didn't really get involved until grad school. But not remembering this person is particularly odd, for two reasons:

1) This is the woman that I would have had that super secret crush on in high school like you see in all those teen movies. I wouldn't have forgotten someone like that.

2) She's a lesbian. If I went to high school with a woman that eventually discovered she was a lesbian, chances are that I would have had something to do with it. :D

I'm thinking that maybe she was a victim of UDS (Ugly Duckling Syndrome), but I doubt it. I mean, there is something familar about her, but I don't really remember anything.

So anyways, my memory has really been crap lately. Could this be the beginning stages of early-onset Alzheimer's?

Myspace

2006-03-04T22:47:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I was talking to Sis about the shirt situation. By the way, she also likes the brown shirt more, but she thinks I should buy both. Anyways, we got to talking about Myspace. She has a page on Myspace, and it's been useful to her for getting back in touch with a lot of high school friends, as well as helping her keep tabs on people in general.

One of the people that has contacted her via Myspace was someone that I was apparently friends with in high school. I remembered the name, but not the face, which was odd because I'm usually bad with names but good with faces. I had her send me the link to his Myspace profile so I could get a reminder of what he looked like (then I might remember him better). The thing is that I had to register to see his other pictures (his profile picture was a cartoon). So, I registered, and he didn't look familiar.

Anyways, I'm trying to decide if I should keep the Myspace page. It's not like I have any long lost friends that I want to track down. Actually, I probably do, but I don't remember any of them. Most of my friends from my high school days are friends with whom I still keep in touch. I wouldn't really want to get in touch with people with whom I went to high school. It would be kind of weird actually, considering that I didn't really keep any friends from my high school (in middle school, all my friends ended up at the other high school in town). Overall, I don't think I'd get too "personal" with a Myspace page, unlike how I am on this blog. However, I'm thinking a Myspace page would probably be pretty handy for networking when I'm out west, especially when I get involved in various organizations. Overall, I've heard a lot of good, and a lot of bad, about Myspace.

I saw one thing about Myspace that really gave me a bad opinion about it. I was surfing around YouTube and I came across a video that some woman did for her Myspace page. I didn't see her actual page, but the video went something like:

Hey guys, this is (insert strange webname here). How are you guys doing? Anyways, I just wanted to say thanks for all the comments, and keep them coming, because I like comments. So yeah, thanks for the comments. I hope to see more comments from you guys.

She had two other videos that were pretty much the same thing...fishing for comments.

The first thing that came to mind was comment whore, but then I got to wondering. Is this how Myspace is used? Do people just try to get a huge friends list of people they have never really even met, and/or have no actual intention of any substantial interaction? Is it just to have a large group of people who are even less than acquaintances? Then again, this was only one person's Myspace contribution. As for my sister, she actually knows all the people (in real life) on her friends list. So really, what do I know?

Do any of you keep a Myspace page? What are the pros/cons, in your opinion?

Even better than American Idol

2006-03-04T01:36:00.000-05:00

As much as I can't stand almost all reality tv, the one thing I like is how in American Idol you can call in and vote for your favorite singers or whatever.

I think I'm going to steal that for my blog.

Here's the situation, I'm definitely buying the new Matisyahu CD. I figured I'd also buy a tshirt with it because I like the way they look. I'm kind of tossed between two shirts, however. There's this one and this one.

I'm definitely getting Sis' opinion on this before I buy, but I thought (since I have nothing else to blog about) I'd see if anyone in the blogsphere has any input. As for what I look "better" in, I've been told I look equally good in browns, greens, and pretty much any natural colors. So it's not like one would look better than the other on me.

I'm almost tempted to get both, but I'm trying to be more careful with my "fun" spending.

So, see, it's like American Idol, but better. Unlike with idol, where your favorite singer will fade into obscurity in 15 minutes even if s/he does win, I'll be wearing this shirt for years to come. :)

Any opinions?

Actually I do have something to blog about. I saw Ultraviolet. It was terrible. I mean, I knew it wasn't going to be all that great, but I just wanted a reason to go to Manchester (where the movie theater is) so I could also go to Boston Market for some chicken. Anyway, the visual effects could have been great if they weren't so poorly shot. Some of the action scenes were great (like a certain rooftop bullet dodging scene), but most of them were just bleh. Some of the fight scenes were too fast, and could have used some bullet-time to break them up. Also the script was just crap, even for an action movie. Basically, Kurt Wimmer took all his technical mistakes from Equilibrium and used them to make this movie. However, the talents of Milla Jovovich and William Fichtner salvaged what they could.

Of course, the chicken was amazing. :)

I'm sotally tober, occifer!

2006-03-02T21:52:00.000-05:00

Ok, this is my first drunken blog.

Now, I don't get drunk often. I never get drunk at the bar. The main reason for this is because bartenders really don't know how to mix a drink. They either over-ice the drinks, water down the liquor, or (what I really hate) float the drinks. So I never order cocktails (my favorites being a Rusty Nail or 7&7). As for beer, I pretty much only order Guinness, and I drink it slow to enjoy it. So yeah, no punk in druplic for me. :P

So the reason I'm drunk now is because I was hanging out at my neighbors', Dick and Gina's. They are a married couple and two of the coolest people I know. Also, Dick makes the best Rusty Nail that has ever been made. Not too much ice, no watered down liquor, and no floating, of course. Dick used to be a Sociology professor back in the day at a college in New Hampshire. He's retired now, but has been a big help for my own teaching plans. Besides, he's a cool guy to hang out with in general and he has a lot of good stories.

Anywhos, we had a couple drinks to celebrate my acceptance to the Ph.D. program, and it was a good hangin' out kind of time. I'm still a bit drunk. Actually, the only time I get drunk is when I'm drinking with Dick and Gina...or at a wedding with an open bar.

So here's the cool thing for the night. Mackenzie, you might appreciate this. I was talking to Gina (who is big into music) about the new music I've come across lately, and I brought up Matisyahu, a Hasidic Jewish Reggae artist. I first heard about him from Mackenzie's blog, and I'm an instant fan. Well, it turns out that Gina was just introduced to Matisyahu's work from a friend of her's. What are the odds, eh? Anywhos, Matisyahu has given me a new reason to want to be a Jew.

Yeah, so I'm going to stop blogging now and enjoy my buzz. :)

Kids are fucking stupid

2006-03-01T19:37:00.000-05:00

I just saw a commerical for this new show on FX called Black/White. Basically, it's about white people who are made up to be black (and vice versa) to see what it's like as the other race. During the spot, this white kid (who is turned black) says, "We've done something that nobody has done before."

WTF? Read a book, dumbass. Furthermore, Griffin's work was not only revolutionary, but he took a lot more heat for it.

Oi, kids today. I know I'm only 28, but I think I'm old enough to start bitching about stupid kids. :P

I'm not a violent man...

2006-02-28T22:49:00.000-05:00

...but I love me some violent sports.

I should probably qualify the "I'm not a violent man" comment with proof. I'm really not a violent person. I haven't been in a fight in at least 10 years, and I haven't started a fight since the 7th grade. I won't even kill bugs in the house. I catch them, and then release them outside. Even bees and hornets, I'd rather spend a couple minutes trying to catch them without being stung than a couple seconds killing them. I'm not a softie or anything, I just have that much respect for life.

So...I'm currently watching Murderball on A&E (and blogging during the commercial breaks). It's a documentary about a wheelchair rugby league. They use these vicious-looking steel wheelchairs and just ram each other while trying to get to the goal. It's a pretty rocking sport. I highly recommend checking out the movie, it's a great show, and rightly won quite a few awards.

So yeah, between that, roller derby, my own martial arts training in the past, and my sister's rugby, I definitely think I have a propensity towards the more brutal athletic activities.

This obviously isn't the "bigger issue" I talked about yesterday. I just wanted to blog about Murderball. It is such a cool movie.

I Wish I Was a Woman

2006-02-27T22:49:00.000-05:00

Ok, first, I have to clarify "La Petite Mort".

I was never going to take my friends advice. I blogged it to set the stage for an idea. It's like there's two circles out there, those who have sex and those who make love. I mean, there really isn't any in between. You can't really just kinda fuck someone or sorta be intimate with her/him...an experience is probably going to fall into one of the two categories (even if those involved are afraid to admit it, one way or the other).

Most people, for the most part, are going to to fall into one of the two categories. Sure, every now and again there will be a sport fucker that will find true love (at least for a while), or a disillusioned romantic that just throws his/her ideals to the wind and starts hooking up. And there's also the born-again virgins (and born-again players). But in the end, most people have their place and are cool with it.

So all I was pointing out was the two different circles and how different they are. More importantly, I wanted to express that I don't think one side is "better" than the other (though I see how I might have given that impression considering a comment I made about one side "selling themselves short").

In any case, I was curious about the lives of "the other". One of the reasons I was curious has to do with a much larger issue (for me), which I'll probably blog about tomorrow or so.

But anyways...

I like being a guy. I might have said this before, but it's so much easier being a guy. No childbirth, no PMS, no glass ceiling or second-class citizenship. Overall, it's a much sweeter deal, and I can appreciate that. However, every time I watch Rollergirls, I wish I were a woman. I would totally be a derby girl, and it would make all the women problems worth dealing with. Which brings us to...

Rollergirl Recap

It was a good episode, possibly my favorite. The league got to arrange a sit down with Ann Calvello, the queen, nay, goddess of roller derby. I'm not a roller derby expert or anything, but even before I developed an interest in the sport, I knew who Ann Calvello was. I think I first learned about her in high school in a history class. The woman is in her 70s and still full of piss and vinegar. You gotta respect that. Anywhos, the league talked her into an appearance for the championship game.

Also, Punky Bruiser hit the stage to try her standup act. She kinda bombed, but I've heard that pretty much every comedian bombs his/her first time on stage. I've been watching standup since I was in the single digits, and have seen a few documentaries about the field. Building an act is a lot of work, and takes quite a few runs before it's good. If she likes it, I hope she sticks with it.

La Petite Mort (conclusion)

2006-02-24T13:00:00.000-05:00

Well, I wasn't sure if I was going to do a third part. All that there is left to explain is my own position. I don't think it really matters, though, as I'm mostly just confused by the "methods" that have been suggested by my friends.

So here's the thing:

I have adopted a new philosophy on life in the past year. The idea is that being alive is pretty cool, especially when you consider the alternatives. With that in mind, I should take advantage of the fact that I'm alive and experience as much as I can...even stuff I wouldn't think I would like. Granted, I'm not going to go out and rob a bank, smoke crack, or kill someone. But pretty much anything where all involved parties are consenting and nobody is going to get hurt is fair game.

So, let's take line dancing as an example. I hate country music. Like, seriously. Furthermore, line dancing really doesn't look like fun to me. But all the same, one of the things on my "to do during my life" list is to go to some kind of country line dancing club and hit it...maybe I can ride a mechanical bull, too.

And that's how it works. Who knows? Maybe I'll end up enjoying some of the things I thought I wouldn't like. Or maybe some of the things I always wanted to do won't be what I expected. Like it or not, in the end, at least I can say I did it.

Now, about "casual experiences":

Despite being a red-blooded, 100% heterosexual, healthy, adult male, I really don't care much about just getting laid. In terms of experimentation, I've done everything that I've wanted to do, in many different positions, and with women whom I have had a deep connection (or thought I had a deep connection, in the case of my first experience :P). The only thing I haven't done that I've always wanted to do is have sex in a zero-G environment*. Unless I start flirting with female astronauts, that probably won't happen in a one-night stand. :)

So, I really don't see the appeal to flirting up some (semi-)drunk woman at a pub, throwing out a wide net of lude suggestions, and going back to someone's place for a run around the bases. In fact, I can think of so many things that could be not very fun about it, including this. I mean the sex can't possibly be as good as with someone that you actually know and with whom you have some kind of connection.

But guess what? My preconceptions don't matter as per my new philosophy. Who knows? I might like it. I might have loads of fun. I might need the practice. :P I really won't know unless I try it. I know one counter-argument is that there's the risk of pregnancy and disease, but I'm definitely a fan of protection so I'm not really worried about that.

All in all, I honestly don't think I'd enjoy it. A casual hookup, no real seduction, all physicality and no intimacy, the many opportunities for awkwardness...it's like drinking Budweiser because you ran out of Guinness**. Yeah, it's beer, but barely.

Whether or not I will have a casual hookup in the future, who knows? Regardless, I don't see myself as taking my friends advice. Can I become a lesser person, just so I might taste a Budweiser? I don't think so. I'll probably just have to wait until I cross paths with a Guinness.

*One of my friends told me that he believes sex in a swimming pool is similar to what zero-G sex would be like, but I seriously doubt it.

**Yeah, I know it seems kind of weird to compare women and relationships to beer, but I really like Guinness. In fact, I like it more than I like most people. So I guess to compare a woman or relationship to Guinness is to put it on a pedestal, in my book.

La Petite Mort (part 2)

2006-02-23T00:39:00.000-05:00

So the advice that I'm getting centers around these "character flaws" that my (women) friends have identified:

1) I don't care enough about getting laid. In fact, I'm too mellow in general.
2) I have too much respect for myself and others.
3) I'm too amicable.

Now, I'm no Boy Scout. I see myself as a regular guy. When I go to the pub, I talk to people, flirt a bit, shoot some pool, toss back a few pints, and just have a good time. I wouldn't say that I'm subtle, either. If I'm interested in a woman and we're talking, I'm sure I'm obvious enough, but it's usually with something more flirty and less pervy. Granted, I've pretty much just been a tease up until this point. Then again, can a guy really be a tease? ;)

Furthermore, because I've never actually gone the distance "casually", for all I know being witty and flirty isn't enough. While I've received invites, many (if not most) flirtations don't end that way. Maybe if I were to attempt to bridge that gap, the response would be something more like, "What!? I thought you were a cool guy just having fun. You just want to get in my pants! Forget that, sicko!" or something similar. The only reason I question my style is because of the (unsolicited) advice I've been given.

So, these strong, independent women friends have advised (I'm paraphrasing) that when I go out I should be:

1) Frantically horny, and unrelentless in my pursuits.
2) A little more disrespectful of myself and others.
3) Not so friendly, more of a jerk.

Now I'm confused, as this isn't coming from my goofy guy friends*. It's my women friends who are telling me this. Once again, I'm not sure why they care, but I'm willing to go with the flow and try something new. That's what life is all about, eh?

At the same time, I don't really see myself acting like some pervy leech to get laid. Color me crazy, but I would think that a guy who is witty, flirty, and can handle the conversational foreplay would be more appealing than a guy who is overbearing, pervy, and quite obviously looking for just any piece of ass. Sure, I don't have women constantly throwing themselves at me with reckless abandon, but I'd like to think I make a good impression on women.

And what I'm thinking now is: What the fuck? (no pun intended :D)

*One of these goofy guy friends is Dewey (mentioned in other posts). This is the same Dewey who, one night at the pool hall, was totally plastered and fell off his stool trying to grab some woman (missing by at least 5ft., he wasn't even close) while yelling, "Box!!!" I only mention this as I figure people would get a laugh out of Dewey being Dewey.

(considering a part 3, or have I said enough?)

La Petite Mort (part 1)

2006-02-22T16:20:00.000-05:00

This has all been a pretty weird situation. I'm not uncomfortable or anything, but it's just been...well...weird, and definitely blogworthy.

People have been pressuring me to start hooking up. Well, I wouldn't say pressure, but there have been frequent suggestions. It's been going on for a while, but has really been picking up the past few months or so. And by people, I don't just mean my guy friends' stupid comments like, "Hey you should ask that girl if you could bend her over the hood of your car." My female friends are getting in on it, too. Whenever we're out, they often "inform" me that some woman is checking me out, and goad me to make an approach.

Now, everyone knows I'm not starting any kind of relationship. I'm moving away this summer, and I'm not dealing with something that's going to turn into a long distance relationship, at best. They totally understand this fact. What they (including the women) are suggesting is that I just have a little fun and keep it all just "casual".

I should mention something about my female friends. With a few exceptions (those being the female friends I've had since back in the day), I pretty much prefer the company of strong, independent women rather than naive, immature girls. I figure that the type of female friends I keep sorta set the stage for the type of women I would attract. So my close women friends aren't a bunch of irresponsible party girls who are stuck at age 13. Most of them are respectable women (who still like to party, and are stuck at age 23 :P). Basically, I don't hang out with barflies, pigeons, or skags.

But seriously, any day that goes by where I'm around friends, it comes up at least once or twice. The message of the day is, "Brota has got to start fucking around." I don't know why it's become such a hot topic, but whatever, I can go with the flow. Personally, I prefer a some kind of relationship, or at least some kind of flirty friendship, before things get sexual. Then again, I've never just hooked up, so what do I know?

Now, I'm not really against the idea. I mean, I used to have some scruples about it, but after the cancer and a few other things in life, I'm definitely living a little more fast and loose. So I tell my friends that I don't really have a problem with getting laid. If it happens, it happens. And that's when the advice starts rolling in.

Capice?

(to be continued...)

I guess size doesn't matter...and #&%*@#% (part 3, the conclusion)

2006-02-21T19:09:00.000-05:00

My really weird Sis-inspired post is going to have to wait until tomorrow. Too much cool stuff happened today so I'm blogging about that.

I received a letter from the Ph.D. program from which I've been waiting to hear. I don't know if I already mentioned which university it would be, but for the sake of anonymity, let's just say it's a good one...possibly one of the best for my field. Even though I got in last year (and had to put it off for a year), budget changes and faculty rearrangements could occur, which means I might not get in this year. Well, you know the old saying about college acceptance, for which a thick envelope is good and a thin envelope is bad? Well, this envelope was the thinnest I had ever seen...

...especially considering that I was accepted and am getting full funding. Basically, it's a $200,000 scholarship package. Even though I was favored to get in, I wasn't taking it for granted. But now, it's a serious load off my mind, considering I didn't have a backup plan.

Ok, I feel that today marked the conclusion to #&%*@#%, as I also went to the gym. First, I was rocking on the weights. Today was a bench day, and I did not just double, but I tripled the number of sets I usually do (same weight, of course). I was pretty stoked about that. Then there was the dreaded eliptical. I used the same machine, of course, and I got my revenge.

See, one of the items on the display is the number of strides. It only has 4 digits so it can only go up to 9999 strides. Normally, I do about an hour (including warmup and cooldown), which is the max that the program timer allows, and it ends up being like 8500-8700 strides. Well, today, I just totally rocked out. By the last five minutes of my cardio, I was up to 9700 strides, and the machine started "sticking" again. By 9800, the display had some kind of seizure, and when the timer was at 57:53 (probably 9850 strides), the machine just died.

That's right, I killed the machine! The whole thing had to be unplugged and the display had to be reset. What can I say? It had it coming. That machine deserved a nice taste of Brota death.

So yeah, I definitely had a good day. :)

#&%*@#% (part 2)

2006-02-20T23:18:00.000-05:00

I started to work on my post about the conversation with Domestic Bryan, but then I decided to just let it go. Some things are better left off where they're left. I'm still "choosing my words" for the post inspired by Sis. I think it will be ready tomorrow.

Ok, so I went to the gym to try and beat my 10:54. I always use the eliptical so I don't have to worry about joint fatigue. Anyways, there's a display on the panel for strides per minute. Logic dictates that more strides per minute equals more distance per minute, right? So, when I got the 10:54, I was keeping a range of 140-150 strides per minute. I made sure that I consistently kept a faster pace, today, and I kept it around 160-165. Of course, I made sure to use the same machine.

Every now again again I would hit the "change display" button so I could see my distance. About 15 minutes into my workout, I noticed that my distance was a little low. I should have hit at least 1.5 miles, but I had barely passed a single mile. A half an hour into it, I checked again. I was only at 2.25 miles, and I should have been closer to three. Now I'm getting suspicious and I leave the display on distance so I can watch it increase.

Keeping a steady pace, one would expect the distance to increase at a steady rate, right? Wrong! It was all over the place. At one point, about 20 seconds went by before the distance increased by an increment of .01 (1/100 of a mile). If that were true, I would have to be just strolling, which definitely wasn't the case. The display was "sticking" (though I don't know how digital can stick).

In fact, after an hour, the machine indicated that I only did 4.3 miles. But on the day I was going at 140-150 strides per minute, the display showed 5.4 miles. Now, I know that the cardio machines are never completely accurate, but this is a pretty major discrepancy.

Yeah, so #&%*@#% the machines and their crappy displays. I'm going to have to wait until the weather gets better so I can hit the track with a stopwatch. I knew that 10:54 was quite a bit off. It just didn't feel right. In fact, I seriously feel like I could do a mile in 8:30-9:00. Of course, I'll have to wait and see.

In the meantime, the numbers on the eliptical display mean nothing to me...:P

How about a laugh? I was looking into alternatives for standard calf raises, when I came across the Weighted Donkey Calf Raise. The video is a little hard to make out, but try to imagine being in the gym and seeing two people doing that. :P

Rollergirls Recap

First, PDF totally massacred the Cherry Bombs. The coverage was understandably short, as PDF had a whopping 30 point lead by the first half. It was over before it started. Otherwise, it wasn't too exciting of an episode. Even though it had nothing to do with derby, Frankie and Lux's art show was pretty cool. I didn't like how Lucky Harm was getting all two-faced and butt-kissy about which team she "wanted" to join (even though all players don't have a choice, they get placed). She should just be happy that she was getting a shot at the A-string.

Can I Get Handicap Parking for This?

2006-02-18T23:23:00.000-05:00

Well, I didn't make it to the gym. In fact, with everything else I had to do this morning, I was still late for work. Maybe tomorrow, though, but I doubt it. I'm the only person I know who has busier weekends than weekdays.

I had my first handicap moment today. I had a few things to pick up at various stores. One of them was cologne/deodorant/whatever to make me smell pretty :P. I was thinking of trying out one of the Axe products, for something different. I have a few friends that use that line and they like it. So I went to the store, and started to check it out. And that's when it hit me. For those of you who haven't been following this blog for long, my sense of smell (more specifically the nerve that is used for smell) was surgically removed back in August.

So here I am, with all the deodorant sprays, having no clue what I'm supposed to do. I was almost tempted to ask a stranger for help, but I presume that it is kind of rude to go up to strangers and say, "hey, could you smell this for me?" Most people tend to not appreciate being asked to smell things.

Then I realized something else. It almost didn't matter which spray I picked. I mean, it's not like I would smell it, so my only reason for using the stuff is out of consideration for the people within "smelling distance" of myself.

So now I have to decide how I'm even going to decide which scent to pick. I'm not smelling it so I guess it doesn't matter to me. If I'm going to wear this stuff, I might as well go with something the people, specifically women ;), around me would prefer.

So I'm thinking that the solution would be for me to round up a bunch of attractive women, drag them to the store and have them all sample the various scents. Then they could all vote on the best. Problem solved, right?

P.S. My Sister Rocks

I wrote the original post on Notepad while I was at work, and a few things happened while I was writing so I had to add this post script.

Long story short, I got a whole new wardrobe a couple months ago, which my younger sister helped me pick out. I pretty much depend on her entirely when it comes to style.

As I was typing the first part of the post, one of the nurses walked by and gave me a compliment on my look saying that she really liked my look, and that my shirt looked good on me. That was a pretty nice thing to say, and I was actually a little flustered for a moment. Sis really deserved all the credit for it, so I called her afterward. She was happy (for herself, of course :D).

I also told her about the deodorant spray situation and she let me know that it actually would not be rude/weird if I were to (her words) "go up to hot girls and ask them to help you pick the right scent". That's good to know. But, being the good sister that she is, she'll be going to the store this weekend to tell me which one I should get. However, she also told me that I should still go myself and ask attractive women for help, though not to pick up a spray, but to pick up women...

...which gives me an idea for a post I've been wanting to do for a while.

#&%*@#%

2006-02-17T23:49:00.000-05:00

I think the title appropriately describes my mood today.

First, I didn't break 10:20 (and I busted my ass trying). I didn't even break my original 10:54. In fact, my average pace was 10:55 for 5.5mi. today. That alone was enough to ruin my day.

Also, I got Domestic Bryan and Sean to go out for a couple pints and a pizza, and I managed to keep the conversation away from boring homeowner stuff. Normally, I would be pretty happy about that, but I was still feeling foul from before. Actually, DB and I talked a bit about training. He still wants to go, but he really can only go after work. I'm working on moving my sessions later in the day so we can go together. It would be a pain in the ass for me, but worth it. He's the kind of guy that would push me to work harder, so I could make greater improvements. After today's 10:55, I need to work harder.

When we got back to DB's, after Sean left, DB and I had a conversation that made my day even worse. I'm not mad a DB at all (what bothered me really had nothing to do with him), and I don't really want to get into the details (maybe another post), but the conversation helped me realize some things (mostly about myself) that I'm not very happy with right now and I don't know how to change. It isn't go-to-a-shrink-type stuff, though. It's actually rather minor and unimportant (and probably stupid) in comparison to many other things in life, but it's important to me right now.

Even though I don't really have the time, I'm planning to make time to go back to the gym tomorrow and do another 5-6 miles. I'll just have to work even harder. And if I can't break 10:20, then I'm going for 10:40.

Oi!

All filler, no killer

2006-02-16T23:24:00.000-05:00

Today was just a wash.

The only interesting thing that happened today was that I greeted my class with a "Wassup, bitches!" It may seem inappropriate, but it really tied into Tuesday's lecture.

I'm getting a bit frustrated with the training. Granted, the doctors said I would be quite a bit sluggish for my first year while I recover, but I did the math and I have an 11-minute mile (well, 10:54, but close enough). That is just sad, in my book. In terms of my plan, I haven't been keeping up records and have just been plotting weights and cardio in my head. Recently, I decided to start paying more attention to the numbers. I'm nowhere's near where I want to be for weights, but I'm not surprised at that. By the end of last October, all the muscle mass in my body had deteriorated and atrophied, so I knew I would be starting from scratch there. But an 11-minute mile? I've never been that slow. I'm determined to break 10:20 tomorrow.

I don't mean to winge on about it, but it's really been a dull day. I wish I had something more entertaining to share.

Being that it's Friday, I hope to have something more worthwhile in my next entry.

Sometimes I pee the bed

2006-02-16T00:08:00.000-05:00

Ok, I don't pee the bed, but I saw another commercial that got me thinking.

Being a child actor is hard enough on a person, but what about those kids who do those commercials for Goodnites (diapers for older kids who still wet the bed)? I'd hate to have to go to school with other kids after doing a commercial like that. You know how cruel kids can be. Then again, I would probably be like, You're damn straight I pee my pants. If you saw how much I got paid for that spot, you'd pee your pants, too. I'm rich, bitches!!!

Anyways, I believe I've found my own personal kryptonite. I was at the gym yesterday, and my mp3 player died 20 minutes into cardio. I instantly developed a "fuck it" attitude and stopped right there. I mean, 40 more minutes and no tunes? I just couldn't do it. The main reason I go to the gym is self improvement, but I need the music.

Oh, and I know I'm going to sound like a perv for saying this, but I got nothing else to say about today, so...

There's women at the gym that wear these really short shorts with words on the bum. I have a message for these women, and that's "thank you". It's pretty difficult to get me to read outside of work, but I did at the gym today. There was this one woman (quite attractive) who had these shorts and they said "Volleyball" on them. I thought, almost reflexively, "I like Volleyball". Side note, she was definitely at least college age, so it was ok to check her out, in my book.

Of course, most guys would just leer and let their thoughts trail off to more impure pastures...but I didn't. Ok, ok, I did a little (she was really hot), but not much! Instead, my thoughts drifted in a different direction.

So I got to thinking that marketing reps should really be tapping into this medium (no pun intended). Pay women to wear short shorts with little ads on them and they could sell anything. I mean, you can't fit too much, but you can probably do a one-liner (with slightly smaller letters, of course). Think about it:

Precision Crafted Performance. Acura.

How Refreshing! How Heineken!

This ass brought to you by Valtrex.

Ok, that last one was a little foul, but I think it would work better than spam-mail.

Your perfect boyfriend

2006-02-15T00:18:00.000-05:00

Someone else's blog, or more specifically, the comments, gave me an interesting idea.

Apparently, there's a site out there for people who can't find a girlfriend, but want people to think they have a girlfriend. So this company, Imaginary Girlfriends, provides its clients with fake girlfriends. They'll send the client sweet emails, some letters and photos, leave romantic voicemails, and give the client an occasional gift. I can imagine the TV spots for this service:

This is Anna. For only $5 a day, the cost of a designer coffee, you can help her "pay her way through college". In exchange, every month, you'll receive a personalized letter and photo from your faux-girlfriend...

So anyways, I'm thinking I could start my own company, Imaginary Boyfriends. Our mission would be to provide single women with the "relationship" they desire. Or for women in a relationship, our company will do the things that your boyfriend is too lazy/stupid/insensitive to do himself. Imaginary Boyfriends will provide the following services to all our members:

1) Remember your birthday and "our anniversary".
2) Let you pick any song by Celine Dion, Sarah MacLachlin, or one of many other girly artists to be "our song".
3) Occasionally buy you presents that you like (so no kitchen appliances or car repair things) for no real reason.
4) Send you emails (up to daily, if you choose) telling you how and why you are so special and how lucky "your boyfriend" is to have you in his life.

Clients with a Gold Membership will also have access to our "boyfriend for a date" service. Choose from one of our attractive "boyfriend" models for a date, which include, but are not limited to, the "Brad Pitt", the "Gary Dourdan", the "Antonio Banderas", and the "William Hung" (hey, it takes all kinds). These dates can include a romantic dinner with witty and deep conversation, a family gathering where your date will tell your family that he is in whatever profession you choose, or having your date clean your entire house/apartment/etc. For an additional fee, he will even do a cleaning shirtless, and rippling abs are guaranteed or your money back.

I think I'm onto something here.

You know, I have herpes...

2006-02-14T21:03:00.000-05:00

Ok, I don't have herpes. But, what better way to celebrate VD than with VD?

I just saw one of those herpes medication commercials on TV and it got me thinking. I like how the commercials portray herpes as a nuisance that people shouldn't concern themselves over.

You know, I have herpes. But my life is too busy to take my herpes medication a few times a day for a whole week. Hell, I can barely spare the time to properly don a condom...

Now, I'm not making generalizations about people with VD. I'm sure there are some people out there who are "victims". However, out of everyone I ever met who has or has had VD (and living in the ghetto, there's been plenty), every single one of them brought it on themselves.

I knew a guy who got VD from a stripper who works at the Electric Blue, and he (who didn't wrap it up) was actually surprised when he found out.

Then there was Jenital Warts. Her name was Jen, but my friends know a lot of Jens and she contracted genital warts from putting out for cigarettes, so she earned herself that nickname.

I could go on and on.

Is this indicative of the total lack of personal responsibility saturating our society? At what point is it our own damn fault? And more importantly, why does it hurt when I pee? :P

Bad Evil Voices

2006-02-13T23:09:00.000-05:00

-Rollergirls Recap-

I saw another great episode of Rollergirls tonight. The bout at the end of the show was the most vicious one that I've seen yet. Two players were taken out of the game due to injuries. I'm seriously impressed by these women. Never have I seen women (or anyone for that matter) with such strength, and I don't just mean physical, but also personal and emotional.

Punky Bruiser has definitely become my favorite player. I sympathize with her situation. She's still trying to figure out what she wants to do, and in the meantime is stuck working retail and in food service. I was in the same situation when I was in college, working two jobs to pay for school and having no clue where I wanted to go. Not only that, but working retail was the worst job I ever had (and considering I've been working since I was 10, I've had a lot of jobs)...and food service was the second worse. She has a lot of personality, and I hope things work out for her.

-end of recap-

As for life...

You know that voice most people have that tell them that they're just not good enough, or that they'll never succeed? Well, I don't really have that voice. The voices in my head have learned that telling me I can't do something gives me more reason to do it. In fact, most of the success I've had in my life arose from some asshole saying that I'd never succeed. So I don't have that voice. Instead, I have the voice that reminds me that I don't really care, so why bother?

Sometimes, that voice can be a good thing. That voice is the reason why I'll never burn out as a teacher. Some students I've dealt with have the attitude that, just because they're paying tuition, it means they deserve an "A". As a result, these students don't really put any effort into doing a decent job and hand in half-assed work. I've even had one college student get his mother to hassle me to up his grade, just because "he really did try, but he was a little busy with 'other stuff' that semester". The mother told me that "other stuff" was a vacation to Europe and some cruise to the islands. Psht, fuck that. Most instructors would get frustrated by this. I, on the other hand, figure that I get paid the same whether they do the work or not, so whatever. If they aren't going to bother with the work, it's their problem. Sink or swim, bitches!!!

The voice has a pretty good point. When it comes to most things in life, I have such a "whatever" attitude. Pitching a fit doesn't solve anything, and most problems are only problems if you let them be problems. I mean think about it, most stuff that pisses people off, only does so because people let it piss them off. That was probably terrible grammar, but you get the idea. Anyways, with the right state of mind, we could just as easily let it all roll off and not let it marsh our mellow.

Then again, the "voice" is usually bad and evil, which is probably why it's called the Bad Evil Voice. I had a conversation with the voice at the gym today. Now, it wasn't an actual conversation in the whole Fight Club/Tyler Durden sense (meaning, I'm not insane), but this is what went through my head:

Bad Evil Voice: Hey, you. Psst.
Me: Sod off, man, I'm trying to workout.
BEV: Hey, hey, it's cool. I was just figuring a little friendly conversation would help pass the time.
Me: Yeah, whatever, dude. The last time I listened to you, I blew off the theatre for a keg party.
BEV: But you had fun, right?
Me: Well...yeah...but that's not the point.
BEV: Sure, you're right, hindsight is 20/20, you know?
Me: Yea...so...anyways?
BEV: I've been thinking about this "working out" business.
Me: ...
BEV: Yeah, so I'm thinking, wouldn't you rather just blow it off, hit the pub, and toss back a few pints?
Me: ...and die of a heart attack by 60?
BEV: You're not going to have a heart attack. Almost everyone in the family has lived past 80, and half of them spent most of their lives as chain-smoking drunks.
Me: Or the cancer could come back?
BEV: Last I heard, crunches and curls don't prevent cancer.
Me: What do you care about it anyway?
BEV: I'm just trying to help you have a little fun. How about you just cut out the weight training?
Me: No.
BEV: Why bother? You're not doing it for vanity's sake, and you're not training for anything anymore. Why waste the time?
Me: ...
BEV: C'mon, it's not like you're prepping for the Olympics.
Me: Well, I'm not cutting out weights.
BEV: Ok, then why not reduce the cardio? You really don't need a full hour. A half an hour is more than enough.
Me: Don't you have someone else to annoy?
BEV: Just answer me this, do you really, honestly, give a damn about being able to double your bench or do 45 minutes of HIIT?
Me: ...Well...no...I guess not.
BEV: So why bother?
Me: Good point, I suppose.
BEV: Besides, all the years you're going to tack on by working out is probably equal to all the time you spend at the gym. You might as well sieze your youth, live hard, and die young.
Me: ...hmmm...
BEV: So how about that pint? Maybe we could even track down Deadhead Mike and get some ganja? We could pack a bowl, put some Buju on the box, and just chill.
Me: Hey, hey, hey! I quit smoking!
BEV: Oh, yeah, you're right. Forget I even said it. Let me make it up to you over a pint.
Me: ...
BEV: I'll buy the first round?
Me: ...
BEV: We could split an order of cheese fries?
Me: ...Piss off.

Now, I'm either becoming a stronger person, or I'm just losing my charm. :P

And I thought I was wild

2006-02-12T23:47:00.000-05:00

I don't think I've done a porn rant, yet. But I just saw a commerical on TV that has inspired me. So here's the thing...

I don't like porn. I'm probably the only guy I know who doesn't like porn. The reason why has almost nothing to do with morals. I mean, I'd never be a porn star, and I wouldn't date a porn star, but I don't care if anyone else wants to be a porn star or watch porn. Whatever floats your goat, I say. I'm not saying that porn isn't a little weird, not to mention debasing to the "actors/actresses", but all that has nothing to do with me, so I don't really care.

In fact, my group of friends would have porno parties all the time, back when we had the party houses. It wasn't anything too weird or perverted, just a party with a theme, and some porn playing on the big screen, all of which gave the girls a reason to dress extra skanky. I never had a problem with it, a party is a party, after all.

My problem with porn is more of a logical one. Let's say I really wanted to fly a stealth bomber. Watching some documentary on the stealth bomber wouldn't do anything for me. I'd just be like, "Hey, there's someone flying a stealth bomber. I think I would enjoy flying a stealth bomber" and that's pretty much it. So porn is just watching some people have sex, big deal.

And even worse, porn stars are terrible at it. You know, you'd think if your job involved having sex all day, you might develop some kind of technique. Instead, it's like watching the discovery channel, but with people. Then again, it could be that we just had cheap porn at the parties.

So as for the commercial...

Ok, I'm surfing the net late at night with the TV on in the background and I start to hear the ever so familiar steel drums from the "Girls Gone Wild" commercial. After the last GGW commercial I saw, the one for the "Girls Gone Wild Games", I had a secret hope that they have finally reached the summit of their lame porn and would start to fade from late night TV. No such luck. They've managed to top themselves with the brand spankin' new "Guys Gone Wild", which is pretty much just a bunch of guys flashing their junk.

What I'm trying to figure out is where the hell the market is for this? It has to be gay men and hideously unattractive straight women. I mean, almost any woman could get almost any guy nekkid. It's pretty simple, she just needs to wait until last call, pick the best looking drunk left at the bar, approach him, and say, "You wanna?" Furthermore, the cute women don't even have to wait until last call. Bada-bing, bada-boom, that's it. Not only that, for all I know, it's just as easy for gay men.

All I'm saying is, it can't be that hard to find a guy willing to flash his junk. I don't see the rationale of filming it and then selling it to people. And if I wasn't such an insomniac, I wouldn't be up this late thinking about these things.

Sucker-free Saturday

2006-02-11T13:59:00.000-05:00

Big surprise. Domestic Bryan is not going to the gym because he suddenly has "too much work to do around the house". I have no idea what kind of work could possibly have popped up between yesterday and today, especially considering how insistent he was about going to the gym with me. Actually, it was a funny conversation:

[Yesterday]
DB: Ok, so whatcha doing tomorrow? Wanna take a trip to Manchester?
Me: Didn't buy Maureen's [his girlfriend] V-day gift yet?
DB: Exactly.
Me: That's cool, I'm in. It'll have to be later in the day though. I'll be at the gym in the afternoon.
DB: Hey, can you sneak me in with you? I was thinking that I should be getting back into shape.
Me: You want to go to the gym?
DB: [babbles about how he used to be jacked back in the day]
Me: Ok, sure. We'll go.
DB: I really mean it, you know.
Me: Ok, ok, I'll call you before I go to the gym and we'll meet up or something.
DB: No really, I mean it. It's not like you when you say you'll go somewhere and then change your mind.

[side note: It's worth mentioning that when I change my mind about going somewhere, it's because the originally planned "somewhere" is a party or pool hall and later becomes Home Depot or AutoZone.]

Me: Ok, man, I believe you. I promise I'll call in the morning.
DB: Cool.

I'm kinda glad it worked out this way, though. It's not like I go to the gym to socialize, and Bryan is definitely more of a talker than I. I was also dreading the thought of having to do an hour of cardio/interval training without my mp3 player because it would have been rude.

I am a little miffed because he's also backing out on the trip to Manchester. Apparently, his girlfriend's father is stopping over for dinner. Not that I was looking forward to shopping, but I was looking forward to Boston Market. However, Manchester is too long of a drive to go there just for some chicken.

Sex Machine

2006-02-10T18:09:00.000-05:00

Like I said before, I'm mixing up my routine a bit. I've read that it's a good idea to change things around every now and again so your muscles don't get used to the routine.

So, for the hell of it, I decided to throw the sex machine in the mix. As in, the machine that does this and that. Traditionally, this is an exercise that is done by women. In all my years of training, I have never seen a guy on this machine. However, I'm confident in my masculinity so I gave it a shot. Well, I pulled my groin. Live and learn. I guess the moral of the story is: The Sex Machine. Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.

Speaking of the gym, I got a call from Domestic Bryan today. Apparently, he wants to start training again. He used to train back in the day (we were probably in our late teens or early 20s) and he was pretty jacked. Now, I've never trained for size (it's always been for definition, toning, and endurance), but even if I did, I probably could not get as big as Bryan was. Of course, the past 5 years of keg parties, pizza, and not going to the gym can catch up pretty quick, so he wants to get back into shape.

So I guess it's a good thing I blew of Thursday and made Saturday my makeup day. At least I'm finally getting the guy out of the house.

Domestic Bryan also wants me to go shopping with him in Manchester tomorrow. Apparently, he's yet to pick out that perfect V-day present for his girlfriend and he wants some help. Shopping? Oi. I hate shopping, but I'm going for two reasons. First, he is my best friend, and as much as I resent him being domesticated, I'm not the type to leave him hanging. Second, I've been looking for a reason to go to Manchester because I want to eat at Boston Market (best chicken ever).

But like I said, he is my best friend, so I'm tempted to convince him that playboy floormats are the perfect V-day gift...because that's what best friends do. :P Seriously though, his girlfriend is pretty cool, so I wouldn't screw her over like that.

Speaking of ladies, Dead Jake is back from the dead. Long story short, Jake is a friend of ours from back in the day, who married a horrible woman that wouldn't let him hang out with any of us. He's in the Air Force and has been stationed in Japan for a while. Well, it turns out that Dead Jake's wife has been sleeping around with all the guys on the base (Jake's caught her on many occassions). Of course, Jake's main complaint was that she was sleeping with everyone but him. So he has finally filed for a divorce. Happy V-day to them. We're all hoping he can get a transfer back to the area.

As for myself, I'm flying solo this V-day. Strangely enough, it doesn't bother me. Is that so wrong? :)

Kabbalah? No thanks, I had some for breakfast.

2006-02-09T19:35:00.000-05:00

I was a bad Brota and skipped the gym today. I'm not busy Saturday, though, so I'll make it up then. My neck is pretty much better, but my shoulder is still sore. Why risk it, eh?

So today's thought of the day is that I think I want to be Jewish.

side note: I don't mean any offense to Jewish people by this post.

This all started when I heard a friend of mine wanted to be an embalmer. That's when I realized that I don't want to be embalmed. Having my innards scooped out and my blood replaced with formaldehyde is kind of a weird thing to do to a body.

What's this have to do with Judaism? Well, I hear that Jewish funerals happen within 24 hours of the death because they don't believe in desecrating the body with the embalming process. Besides, the little I've heard about Judaism is pretty cool.

1) Jews' bodies aren't violated when they die.
2) Jews have lots of holidays.
3) Jews are pretty laid back people (I've never seen any Jewish zealots or Jewish evangelists on the tube).

Now, I'm not a super religious person. I don't really believe in...well...anything. But I figure I was a pretty bad Catholic as a kid, so I could be just as bad of a Jew and get all the benefits.

Workout tip #1

2006-02-08T20:47:00.000-05:00

1) Don't do pullovers without a trainer if you've never done them before.

Normally I do pulldowns, which work the same muscle group. But today, I decided to mix it up a bit and try the pullover. The problem with pullovers is that you don't "feel" the weight until your hands are pretty much behind your head, and you feel it pretty quick. So when I tried doing them today, on my first rep, my right arm snapped below my head to the floor because I wasn't expecting such a quick change in weight. I'm pretty sure that I strained something because my shoulder is sore and my neck hurts. It's probably not too serious, though, as I still have full range of motion. Regardless, I'm going back to pulldowns.

And yeah, that was my day. Get up, go to the gym, and blog a bit. Having such a light teaching load this semester makes me feel like some trust fund kid, except without all the money. I've realized two things as I blog this. First, I could really get used to this. Second, I'm entirely confident that I've made the right career choices.

Friends that are girls

2006-02-07T22:28:00.000-05:00

One of the things that I've found interesting about the blogsphere is how much we all have in common. In some cases, the only thing that really separates us is geography. For example, a fellow blogger recently posted this entry, and I find that a similar situation has surfaced (or resurfaced) tonight.

A- and I have been friends for at least five years now, and it's cool like that. We can hang out and have a good time, no problems. Part of the solid foundation for our friendship is that we know a romantic relationship would never work out. She's a great friend and all, but not what I'm looking for in a girlfriend. All the same, I'm not what she's looking for.

But that's all started to change recently, partly thanks to B-, A-'s mother. For a while now, B-'s been hinting that I should be laying my game on her daughter. A- and I know that it's just a bad idea, so we've not taken it seriously.

However, I've been getting the feeling that A- is starting to change her tune. Everyone knows that I'm pretty serious about working out (sometimes up to two hours a day, though at least half of it is cardio), and A- recently started working out. She has also been "joking" about moving with me when I head out west this summer. Not to mention there's been many seemingly innocent comments about finding me a local girlfriend to keep me from moving.

Tonight was really odd, though. My tendency is to give a "hello hug" to my female friends. You know, the hug that's not too long as to be creepy, but not too short as to be insincere. I went to hang out with A- tonight and she kind of "drew out" the hello hug. We were hanging out with some other people watching some TV, and I noticed her giving me looks out of the corner of my eye. Finally, she came up with some excuse for me to run my fingers through her hair (Something like, "I went swimming at the university pool today, see how smooth my hair is from the chlorine).

Ok, now I'm not that guy. I'm not that guy who thinks all women have a thing for me. In fact, I figure that the industry standard is that women don't have a thing for me. Perhaps back in grade school, when they separated the boys and girls for that "talk", part of the girls' talk involves showing them a picture of me and saying, "This is Brota, you don't want this guy...really."

So, I'm not that guy. And I really don't think I'm reading too much into this. Unfortunately, my normal tactic of diffusing these situations probably won't work in this case. If it was just some woman I met at a party or wherever, I could just keep it casual, act like I'm not interested, and the situation is resolved. But this is the first time it's happened with a friend. I mean, I've been acting like I'm not interested all along. If I were to act any less interested, it would likely involve not hanging out with her. I don't want to screw up the friendship, though, as she is one of the few friends I have left that will stay out past 9.

The thing with the hair does have me thinking. What the hell is up with lap pools still using chlorine? They can't shell out a couple extra bucks for Baquacil to keep the swimmers' skin from crawling?

Killjoy

2006-02-06T21:05:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I just finished watching Rollergirls. It was a pretty good episode. I have to say, Hades Lady and her personal crew are a bunch of killjoys and are really bringing the league down. I think the Cha Cha/Lunatic wedding was a great idea. Hell, everyone else really enjoyed it. It's entertainment, it's supposed to be fun. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you should really be watching the show.

So yeah, other than that I've had a pretty uneventful day. Hm...I went to the gym and watched Rollergirls. Not bad for a Monday, I guess.

I need a(nother) hobby.

Who the hell goes to Chucky Cheese on Superbowl Sunday?

2006-02-05T23:54:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I'm not really a football fan. I played one season of town league football as a kid, got bored, and quit. I didn't even know that today was Superbowl Sunday until about 3pm. Whatever. For me, it's just another reason to have a party with my friends. Every year, we usually do up something festive for Superbowl Sunday. We get a few kegs, massive trays of fried food from Wings, and sometimes we even watch the game. It's a great time, and gives all of us a chance to hang out and catch up. In fact, it's almost become a tradition.

Well, that didn't happen this year. I called Bryan as soon as I found out it was the Superbowl to see what the party plans were. The tradition is that the person with the biggest TV hosts the party, which was either him or Sean this year. When I called, he was with his girlfriend's kid at Chucky Cheese, and Sean (with his kid) was with him. They decided that they weren't going to have people over for Superbowl Sunday. I mean, it was great that they were spending time with the young ones, but blowing off all of their friends (which is becoming a growing problem) on a semi-holiday is just foul.

Now, I'm not complaining. I figured this is what would happen. I probably wouldn't have made it anyway, as I was over an hour away (near Boston) visiting my sister at her new place. What marshed my mellow was what Bryan said at the end of our conversation. He "invited" me to hang out with Sean and him at Sean's place, but told me to pick up a case of beer before I come (you can't buy booze in CT on Sundays, but you can in MA). After Friday's disappointment, I wasn't going to waste my money on a case just to watch them drool over more real estate catalogs. Of course, I declined.

Like I said, I'm not complaining. I did that earlier with my sister when I told her what a bunch of lazy gits my best friends are. She said that I needed to find a new group of friends. I asked her if she would be my friend. She said no. I then offered to buy her friendship with a six-pack of Bud Light (her favorite beer for some strange reason), and she changed her mind. :P

Anyways, I still had a good day. Apparently, there's this restaurant that everyone's heard of (except for me) called the Cheesecake Factory. My sister, some other family, and myself went there for late lunch/early dinner (also to take out my sister for her upcoming birthday). I don't like cheesecake, so I figured I wouldn't like this place, but I was wrong. The menu is around 15 pages long, and had all kinds of great food.

The meal was amazing, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I even had a dessert. However, I decided that I will be adding an extra half-hour of cardio at the gym every day this week to make up for it.

Well, I guess this post is long enough considering I didn't say anything interesting or even humorous. I'll have to work on that...

Talk derby to me

2006-02-04T21:37:00.000-05:00

Today's subject line was stolen from the Windy City Rollers. Do the league a favor and buy a T-shirt or something.

Ok, so it's a new year, and a new season of new TV shows. I'm not much of a TV person, but every season there's one show that catches my eye. One hour of TV a week is not bad, I figure. Anyways, my number one pick for this season is definitely Rollergirls, a reality show following a roller derby league in Texas.

I generally don't like reality TV (other than Miami Ink). I can't stand Survivor, The Bachelor/ette, Big Brother, whatever, but this show just rocks. Not only does it give a peek into the lives of the skaters and the workings of the league, and every show ends with a bout between two teams. So you get to watch a show and an event. Granted, there's still the "drama" that is rampant in other reality shows, but it's to a much lesser degree and much more sincere.

My only problem is that I have no clue which team to cheer for. After watching a few episodes of the show, I have favorite players on every team, each for a different reason. After every episode, I can't help but feel bad for whichever team loses the bout.

I have nothing but the utmost respect for derby girls. I mean, the beating that they take in a bout, and how they just get right back up and keep going is amazing. It makes me wish I could still play contact sports. Actually, I'm seriously tempted to forget the doctor's orders and go back to martial arts, or take up something like rugby or street hockey.

I'm definitely hooked on roller derby now. I have yet to find a league around here, but I have found one in Chicago (which is close enough to where I'm moving this summer). Furthermore, Texas is probably only a 2-3 day drive from Indiana, so I'm thinking the occasional roadtrip would be pretty cool.

Holding my tongue

2006-02-03T23:58:00.000-05:00

I nearly broke my own rule about this blog. It's pretty much my only rule, being that I wouldn't use the blog to whine or bitch about life. Actually, I probably already broke it bitching about my busted computer, but I'm writing that off as a freebie. Anyways, I had just finished a post about how two of my homeowner friends (Bryan and Sean) are seriously boring now that they are homeowners, and how I pretty much just spent my Friday night watching them drool over real estate catalogs.

But I'm not going there. If they want to be boring domestic sheep, it's their life. I'm not bitter. Well, maybe a little.

I do have a theory, though, and it involves a happy story. My theory is this, people don't get old, they get lazy. That's right, boldface for emphasis! So it's not like, "Oh, I can't party, I'm too old for that", but "I can't party because I'm too much of a lazy git to stay out all night." It's all about having the motivation to go out and have a good time. And this is the happy story that is the basis of my theory:

This was at least 30 years ago (before my older sister was born). My grandparents were probably in their late 40s, and my dad was in his early 20s and living with them. It was a Sunday morning, around 9am, and my dad was getting ready for Sunday mass (he was kind of a goody-goody). Right then, my grandparents were stumbling through the door and they're just getting in from the party they were at the night before.

My dad (half-jokingly) said, "So, you're already dressed for church?" My grandparents (still a little tipsy) were like, "Um, we're not going to make it today, but say hi to Jesus for us."

And then they went to bed.

Don't get the wrong impression, my grandparents aren't a couple of drunks. Both had very successful careers and they took good care of the family. But when it came time to having fun, they weren't the sit around and play cards type of people (at least not until their late 60s). On the other hand, they made the effort to go out and have a good time.

If a couple of 40-year-old responsible homeowners can go out and have a good time, there's really no good excuse for my 25-year old friends. That's the basis of my theory. People who get boring do it because they choose it. They just give up on persuing a good time and settle for the mundane and mediocre.

It's kind of sad, really. But at least I have my grandparents for inspiration. I can't help but mourn the passing of Bryan and Sean, and I hate the thought of giving up on them, but I'm going to find some new party people.

I'm back, at least I think so

2006-02-02T22:41:00.000-05:00

Just curious, is anyone even still reading this blog? I know I've slacked off for a while. I wouldn't blame anyone for not keeping up with it.

Well, anyways. Just ignore this post. I'm just recapping the past month.

I'm now blogging on my brand spankin' new Dell whatever system. It kind of sucks that I had to spend $1300 to have the same system I had before (just functional), but whatever. That's life.

Things have been pretty hectic lately, and I'm kinda miffed about it. The reason why things are hectic is because other people have been making a lot of mistakes, and I am stuck fixing them. I'm not even going to go off on a rant on that. I'll save my anger for dealing with the people that can't do their jobs right.

Ok, so I want to share some good news...but I don't have any. Well, I'm still cancer-free, but that's pretty lame good news. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that I don't have cancer, but being cancer-free is a lousy point of reference for a "good day".

It's a Christmas miracle?

2005-12-31T00:51:00.000-05:00

Well, my computer crapped out again, but then spontaneously came back fully functional. It's very strange, but I'm not going to question it.

Speaking of Christmas, I really enjoyed the holiday this year. Because of the cancer, I had to deal with all my Christian friends telling me all about how I need to put my faith in Jesus and whatever (especially now that I'm not going to die). And it's been a non-stop Jesus-freak-o-thon since I was diagnosed. Don't get me wrong, believe what you want, just leave me out of it. Anyways, that's why I liked Christmas. It was the one time of year that they all stopped going on about Jesus and instead focused on spending money they don't have on things that the people they care about don't really need.

I have the strangest feeling that I've forgotten someone's birthday. Well, nevermind...

One of the things I got for Xmas was "Porcelain" by Sparta. I have not been able to stop listening to this album since I got it. When At the Drive-In broke up, (basically) half the members formed Sparta (the other half formed The Mars Volta). It's a solid album. And yes, I'm listening to it as I post.

My sister lived up to her promise and we went shopping on Wednesday. I pretty much got a whole new wardrobe for $150. I'm not much of a shopper (hence needing my sister's help), but there are some killer after Christmas sales. Then again, I shouldn't be so culturally biased. Maybe they were just a bunch of Three King's Day sales.

So naturally, by buying clothes that actually fit (and getting rid of the old ones), I'm going to have to keep all the weight off. On the schedule for tomorrow is renewing my gym membership. My membership expired in the beginning of the cancer episode. Apparently, I found it a little difficult getting to the gym after losing half-pints of blood at a time from multiple nosebleeds. Anyways, I'm going to feel like such a mook going in there on New Year's Eve looking like someone with a resolution. I wish I could have gotten a clean bill of health a month ago so I could have been working out all this time. Side note, I didn't have a doctor's ok for exercise last month when I had started the pushups/situps/etc. and ended up spending two weeks fighting a wicked sinus infection. I have seen him since, and supposedly I shouldn't have jumped the gun, but I'll be fine after this month.

As for New Year's resolutions, I have none. Well, one. I'm going to stop smoking crack. And I think I'll stick with it as I've never smoked crack and don't ever intend to start. I've never been big on New Year's resolutions. I've never met anyone who has ever stuck to one. Furthermore, I've never seen anyone's health kick resolutions (diet/exercise/quitting smoking/etc.) last more than a month. Personally, I don't need some holiday tradition to inspire me to change my life. But whatever...

I do intend to party though. Where? I dunno. Originally, the plan was that Bryan was going to have a New Year's party at his house. This is what he said before he bought the place (a couple months ago). Now, he's whining about having to work on New Year's Day and saying that he's thinking of just having a few beers and calling it an early night. I'm going to do my best to keep him from wussing out. Right now, it's just past midnight on New Years Eve. Odds are I'll be back here in less than 24 hours to winge on about what a letdown the evening was. Oi...I'd call him a pussy, but that's just an insult to pussy.

I don't want to dick out on my friends, but if their exciting social lifestyle has been reduced to drinking a few beers while watching a Car Crazy marathon on the Speed channel, I don't think I'll have a choice. At this point, I've moved passed upset and am right at sad. My grandpa goes out more than these guys, and he's been dead since I was in the first grade. I'm pretty sure I predicted this all in another post, too. Other than myself, Bryan was the last link in an active social life, and now he's RIP.

Oh well, life's a bitch. But hey, in another six months it won't even matter as I'll be moving 833 miles away to good ol' South Bend, Indiana (where I'll probably have to drive an hour and a half to Chicago to find something to do).

In the meantime...

Coming back, bulking up, and finding Jesus (not really)

2005-11-29T22:11:00.000-05:00

Well, my computer is technically still broken, but I kind of don't care. I have it working to the extent that I can get on the net, though it still occasionally dies. The reason why I don't care is that I can finally go out and about, so other than blogging and email, I don't need a computer (until January when I start teaching again, but I deal with it then).

That whole Saturday dilemma solved itself. The damage to my optic nerves became worse and I developed a nasty case of light-blindness. I've been unable to drive, or even go out until yesterday, when I was able to get to the optician and got a little upgrade to my glasses so I could actually see during the day. I had to get this special polarized/something-else thing that pops onto my glasses so I can see in anything brighter than really dim light. I brought it up with the doctor at a follow up and he says that it should only last anywhere between six weeks and the rest of my life.

I'm just happy he gave me a time frame for once. :P

As I mentioned, I'm a lot more health conscious now. Diet has obviously not been a problem, though exercise has. Not only have I lost all that spare fat, but I also lost all that muscle I had. I've been trying to do some push-ups, sit-ups, etc. (as well as the DDR) and it's not going well. I can barely do 10 push-ups now, which has never been a problem before. I don't mind starting from scratch, though, it could be worse.

So have you ever had some dumb and essentially mundane experience that just kind of sticks with you for no good reason? For example, in my first year of college, I knew a guy that looked like Jesus. He had the beard, moustache, and the whole Jesus thing going for him. He was also kind of a hippie so the fashion wasn't too far off either. I think his name was Phil, and I met him through another friend of mine named Phil. Anyways, the first time I met Jesus-Phil, I happened to mention the resemblance. Actually, I asked, "has anyone ever told you that you look like Jesus?" He came back with a snotty answer, and I felt like a jerk.

But I got to thinking about it. I'm not the jerk. It's his fault he looks like Jesus, and he shouldn't be getting bitchy when other people call him on it. I mean, if you're going to walk around looking like Jesus, you shouldn't be surprised when people mention it. If you don't want the comments, Jesus-Phil, then maybe you should shave and throw on some jeans or khakis. Like, you know... :P

Ok, I was going to end with that Jesus bit, but I have a TV going in the background, and Random 1 is on. These two guys are trying to help some girl become a model (side note: her car is a piece of crap). Anyways, I just heard the quote of the moment on that show...

"Ain't that a relief when a hot girl has a bad car. It makes you feel like you got a shot."

My Bad Hiatus

2005-11-21T13:01:00.000-05:00

My Bad Habit will be taking a little vacation for probably the next week or two. This is mainly due to the fact that my second monitor "burned out" on me, though I'm starting to think it's the video card and not the monitor. In any event, I have no computer of my own until I get that fixed.

Truth be told, I'm kinda getting sick of all the problems I've been having with my computer (and also cell phone). I'm one more technical difficulty away from saying "fuck it all", tossing all this crap, and becoming a mountain man. :S

Everything has a taste

2005-11-17T23:53:00.000-05:00

Ok, so one of the long term (as in, likely permanent) side effects to this whole cancer deal is that my sense of smell is messed up, and it's greatly affected my sense of taste. There's a certain level of suck to this, as (since I was 14) I've worked in various restaurants and enjoy cooking and food in general. By the way, Maria, I'm counting helping out at your parents' restaurant as working (even though I was totally useless) because I did learn a lot. :)

The thing is, I'm not really upset about it. Actually, it's kind of been a good thing.

So my sense of taste is messed up. The types of food most affected are meats, most dairy, and anything with artificial ingredients (like cookies, chips, and pretty much anything that's not fresh). It's kind of ironic as almost my entire diet used to be meats, dairy, foods with artifical ingredients and breads/starches. Yeah, I know, a crappy diet...especially for someone who likes to cook.

The diet is the main reason why (even when I was active) I was still slightly overweight. I blame my heritage. When you grow up in a family with Italians on both sides, food happens...and it happens a lot.

Meats and cheeses don't have any flavors for me anymore. It literally tastes like nothing. When I mention it at a meal with other people, they tell me that such-and-such food doesn't really even have a taste. Well, they're wrong. Everything has a taste, however mild and unnoticable it may be to people who has had a normal sense of smell and taste for their whole lives. The weird thing about eating something that tastes like nothing is that it tastes as bad as something that tastes bad. As for foods with artificial ingredients, they mostly taste like chemicals. A few weeks ago, I tried this individually wrapped pumpkin cookie type thing from a Little Debbie type of company and it tasted toxic. I got the same affect when I tried other similar foods (including my own birthday cake, how sad is that?)

What can I taste? Fresh foods, fruits, vegetables and all the good stuff that my diet was missing before. Now, I never really disliked fruits and vegetables, I think I was just lazy and had too much of a sweet tooth. Anywhos, because of everything, my "food preference spectrum" has been altered a bit. For example, before writing this post, I had a cucumber sandwich with a sundried tomato spread on whole grain bread (because breads with artificial junk in it taste weird). Now, this is something I would eat before, but the sandwich from before would also be stacked with a heap of pastrami, provolone, and mayo. And with the sandwich of before, I'd also have a slice of cake, some ice cream, or a sleeve of graham crackers. (I know, I was terrible).

But like I said, I'm not complaining. This whole situation actually balanced my diet for me. I eat no junk food, literally. And I don't load up on carbs anymore. Granted, I'm a little light on the protein, but I'm working that out.

But I say fuck it, I hope my sense of taste/smell stays retarded.

Decisions, decisions...

2005-11-15T22:55:00.000-05:00

So I have to decide what I'm doing Saturday night. I know you might be reading this, Jen (note to the rest of the world, she's one of the cousins). If it sounds like I'm upset, I'm really not.

But before I talk about Saturday, I have to tell this story:

My cousin has a girlfriend that's basically family. I mean, they're not married or anything, but she's cool to hang out with, so she's family to us. Out of all the boyfriends and girlfriends that any of us cousins have had, she has fit in the best with this family so we treat her like our own. Well, this New Years, my cousin is going to be in Amsterdam with a bunch of his guy friends and kinda leaving his girl behind. He was a bit shady regarding letting on about the trip, but mostly because he knew his mom would pitch a fit, not his girl. By the time anyone found out about it, he had booked his no-refund reservations. Now, we're not mad at him, it's perfectly fine to have some dude time. However, I thought that the rest of us cousins could have a little fun with it.

Like I said, we're not mad at him or anything, but we (though I found out I'm apparently kind of alone on this one) figure if he's going to leave his girl behind on New Year's Eve, then we'll have a huge cousins' party to show her a good time. We'd do the beer pong, DDDR (Dance Dance Drinking Revolution), etc. The hook was that we were going to have the party in his room (he's in college and still has a room at my aunt's house), take a bunch of pictures, make a general mess of the place, and tell him all about it when he got back. It's a pretty big room...actually it's a fully renovated basement and larger than the master bedroom of the house. Of course, he wouldn't know about any of it until he got back from his trip.

It would have been a nice little gag, and a good time for everyone. I brought it up with the cousins (and the gf) a few weeks ago, and everyone thought it was a great idea. But then one of the cousins mentioned she was considering going to NY for New Years instead, then my sister said that she was still "leaving her options open", then the gf said that it sounded fun, but she might want to do something a little bigger.

The reason why I'm not mad about it is because it's cool. It's a big holiday, and we all might want to do crazier stuff than beer pong and DDDR (which have become normal family party games in my family). I just thought it would be cool to do something nice for the somewhat jilted gf who is practically family to all of us. I was a little peeved initially because this isn't the first cousin thing that I've tried to plan that's been moved or kinda blown off. I'm not mad, though. I can go with the flow, and if the flow involves family stuff being backburnered, it's cool.

That brings us to this Saturday. Last week, Wanda and Chris (that lesbian couple that wants to take me to a drag queen party), invited me out to this album release party at a club in RI. I'm feeling a lot better, and I think I'm ready to see if I'm well enough to return to my regularly scheduled partying (it's going until 6am).

The problem is that I just found out today that my aunt is planning to have a mexican night with all the cousins on Saturday. Of course, there will be just as much booze there as there would be at the club...though that doesn't really matter because I'm not drinking yet anyway (actually, I probably would at the club). Technically, the mexican night was planned last month and was originally planned to happen last month but had to be rescheduled, though no date had been set until today.

The thing about the album release party is that I'm kind of a techno-whore. I don't know every fact about every single DJ. Actually, I don't know any fact about any DJ. I don't even know any DJs, nor do I follow the scene at all. But I do like the music, and quite a bit. If done well, I could listen to it for hours and hours and just chill. Anyways, it'll cost me $30 at the door, plus whatever I spend at the bar (which probably wouldn't be much, considering...). A bit steep for a club, IMO, but I've easily spent more on a night out.

But, if I go, I'd kind of feel like I'd be blowing of the fam, and I'd feel guilty about that. Also, I'd have plenty of fun at either, but family time is free. Then again, I would hardly be the first cousin to skip out on a cousins' party. Besides, this album release party is like a once in a lifetime opportunity...well...until they probably have another one in a few months.

So should I say fuck it and hit the club or be a good cousin? Decisions, decisions...

I couldn't help but laugh

2005-11-15T01:42:00.000-05:00

One of the reasons I hate...and like...the internet is because of the certain degree of anonymity it provides. It gives people a certain freedom to express themselves in ways they quite likely never would publicly.

For example, I was bumming around the net to kill some time, and found an interesting comment made in a forum. Some guy was talking about a game he liked. The game in question had absolutely nothing to do with Star Wars, Anakin, Fist of the North Star (whatever the hell that is), mothers, Abe Lincoln, or U.S. Presidents in general. This was a response to his post:

"Oh, sure, you do. At least, until Anakin goes Fist of the North Star on your ass for eating his mom. Abe Lincoln could beat the crap out of you, you pansy."

It made absoutely no sense.

I laughed hysterically and continuously for minutes after reading it.

I have no idea why.

What the trouble was

2005-11-14T15:44:00.000-05:00

Today's subject heading is brought to you by Frogs.

Ok, so here's the situation. I'm still losing weight (though it's slowed down considerably and will probably stop within a week or so). Overall, I've lost around 40 pounds...most of it in the past month. That's not really the problem though, considering I was 35+lbs. overweight before all this anyway. The problem is that I need new clothes.

Before, when I had weight fluxuations, I'd pretty much just hover between 220 and 235lbs. I kept myself between "a little meat on the bones" to "festively plump". My clothes fit between being slightly baggy, and a little more baggy (which kind of works when you're a bit of a skater punk). Before all this, I weighed about 245lbs. My pants had a 42 inch waist. Now, I didn't -have- a 42 inch waist, but I liked my pants really baggy so it all worked. Also, my belt was at it's "second to fattest" notch. My shirts, hoodies, etc. were always super XL because (once again) I liked my clothes baggy.

Now, I'm barely 200lbs. (which I haven't been since I was in high school and running x-country). The only pants I'm not swimming in are the jeans my sister bought me a couple years ago for xmas when I was 220lbs. As is, they fall off if I don't wear a belt. My belt, by the way, is at the "skinniest" notch, though I can still slide out of my pants without undoing the belt. My shirts are fine if I was trying to look like a circus tent. Don't get me wrong, I like my clothes baggy, but I don't want to look like a 4-year-old trying on daddy's suit.

On top of this, my sister gave me a talking to when she visited on my birthday. Apparently, I'm not supposed to like baggy clothes. -Apparently-, a 27-year-old professor who is a semester away from entering a prestigious university should have a much more professional image, and not look like some scrub or skater punk. Harsh words, but I know she does it because she cares. :P

So now I have to buy all new clothes...more professional looking clothes that 27-year-olds are supposed to wear...which brings me to my next problem. In my entire life, I've never actually shopped for clothes. No wait, that's a lie. In the past 27 years, I've bought 2 pairs of khakis (the 42-inchers), a pair of jeans (about as big), and a shirt. Oh, and I bought those shoes last month. Socks and underwear don't count in my book. Previously, I had a great system for when I needed new clothes. I'd take out my credit card, call whatever girlfriend I had at the time, and we'd go shopping. She'd pick out whatever, and I just had to try it on to make sure it fit and pay for it. It was a win-win situation, she got to shop, and I got the clothes I needed.

Unfortunately, I am currently single, and the few women I do know are my "skater punk/scrub" friends. Frankly, I think it would be cool if my family would break out a video camera and get me nominated for "What Not To Wear". $5000, and two professional...uh...err...fashion people telling me what to buy could get me well on my way. I figure the whole surviving cancer thing (it would be nice to get something out of it) would make me a shoe in for the show. However, the show has some policy about how the contestant/victim/whatever is supposed to be surprised, so I guess that's out.

I don't mean to be so personally irresponsible, but a) I'm practically color-blind (some greens look like blues, some blues look like greys, and some greys look like purple) and b) I'm just not all that hung up on fashion (I wear the same clothes to teach that I wear when I work on my car).

I think I'm just going to drag my sister out shopping when she visits from Jersey on Thanksgiving. After all, she opened this can of worms (though I'll admit she probably has a point). Hopefully, I can get all the fall/winter clothes I need in one trip.

In the meantime...

(this is also my windows startup sound. :P)

Today at work...

2005-11-12T21:21:00.000-05:00

A wrong number phone call I got at work today:

(phone rings)
Me: Hello, (insert standard professional greeting here), how can I help you?
Caller: (breathing)
Me: Hello, can I help you?
(Caller hangs up)

5 minutes later...

(phone rings)
Me: Hello, (insert standard professional greeting here), how can I help you?
Caller: BEEP BEEP BOOP BEEP BOOP BOOP BUUP BEEP (still dialing for some reason)
Me: Hello, can I help you?
Caller: (breathing)
Me: Hello?
Caller (obviously an old lady): Hello? Who is this? I'm trying to reach West Haven.
(note: West Haven is a city on the other side of the state.)
Me: Sorry, you seem to have the wrong number.
Caller: Really?
Me: Sorry, it looks like you do.
Caller: What's wrong with my phone?
Me: Um...I...don't...know?
Caller: (breathing)
(Caller hangs up)

I would of laughed if I didn't feel so sorry for the lady.

The Social Development of the Computer Geek

2005-11-09T22:29:00.000-05:00

If only this was my area of expertise, I would have my dissertation. I think this might be my first rant...sorta...

So let's go back into the day, where PCs were called IBMs and IBM compatables. The hot system on the market was either Windows 3.1111whatever...or Nintendo. Only three people had email addresses, and they weren't even friends with each other so nobody cared. In this day, you had the computer geek. The computer geek was the guy who didn't really have a lot of friends in high school, unless someone's computer was broken, then he was that person's friend...for a while. The computer geek was a predominantly male species, mainly because the computer geek, by it's very nature, was a repellent to the female gender.

As a result, the computer geek spent a lot of Thursday, Friday, and even Saturday nights at home, on the computer...even on Valentine's Day and prom night. Instead of having friends, they would play video games, learn how to program in C++-#*&, or build hard drives from aluminum foil and the plastic containers that their collectable action figures came in. Because of this, the computer geek was very skilled with the computer. They could fix all sorts of problems so the rest of us could have smooth running machines. Your sound doesn't work? No problem, he would just clickity-clack around your config.bat.sys.com file and it would be working again in no time. What? Microsoft Wordtoyourmother has a macro virus? Well zippityzooscoobydoo, it's all fixed now. You're using a Mac? No problem, piffitypoof, here's a PC.

And things were good.

But then it changed. The people started to realized that computers can do cool stuff. Therefore, the people who knew how to use computers must be cool by association. So then the computer geeks start getting invited to parties, get to play spin the bottle with the pretty girls, and get to have a schwiggidy schwag time all around. And things were good...for the computer geeks. They got to celebrate Valentine's Day with girls who weren't their moms, and go to prom with girls who weren't their cousins from out of town.

But this creates a problem. If the computer geek is going out and having a schwiggidy schwag time with the cheerleader or the prom queen, he's not sitting home alone learning how to program in HTMLMNOP or figuring out how to upgrade a USB port from 1.0 to 2.0 with just a fork, a piece of floss, and the Kung-Fu Grip component from a G.I. Joe. As a result, the computer geek kinda knows some stuff about computers, but not a whole lot...just enough to impress the ladies at the parties.

Where this becomes a problem is for people like me. When it comes to computers, I can install stuff, and download patches (if the program has an automatic update where I don't have to do anything), but I can't program it, or fiddle around with system junk to tweak it. So I had spent about a month trying to get the DSL wireless cable modem internet thing working on it. Previously, I could just dialup the university where I teach and it was simple, but the college stopped that service.

I couldn't get it to work, so I got this guy from one of the computer tech help places in town to come over and get it working. They had to send three different people to work on it (the last one being the boss of the company). The first two guys were morons who didn't really know what they were doing and admitted that they were mainly webpage designers. Finally, they got it working, but they messed up everything else on my computer. I have the Internet and Microsoft Office, but all my other programs are screwed up. That includes my SPSS (a stats program for work), all my music software, a few video games, Photoshop, my DVD player, and various other applications.

I hope he doesn't send a bill...that could end humorously.

The only way to fix it, as I see it, is format the thing and start over. But then I would lose the internet. I'm figuring that I'm just going to stick it out until the summer (and I move to Indiana) when I won't need any of this DSL modem software crap, and I can clear it all out. In the meantime, I don't really need most of the programs I use for work. All I'm doing next semester is teaching a course that I've prepped and taught a million times before.

But I digress from my thesis. If the computer geek population never gained the degree of social acceptance that they currently possess, they would all be competent little Bill Gates, and not a bunch of lazy schmucks that half-ass a job.

So I propose a computer geek reformation, where we go back to ostracizing them and not inviting them to parties to play spin the bottle or have a schwiggidy schwag time. I think it would be best for everyone all around.

:)

In other news, for those who don't know, my mother runs a daycare. Being a small town, a lot of her clients are friends of the family as well. We get a lot of produce and beef from one of the parents who owns a farm. Another one is my parents' housekeeper. One of the others signs my checks at the university. Anywhos, the other day, I got a really nice get well present from one of the kids (and family, of course, but the child picked it out):

Aren't kids great? :D

I'm gonna flip out

2005-11-08T17:34:00.001-05:00

like a ninja.

I figured I'd get on that list of things to do, since I'm feeling a bit better. Well, Musicmatch Jukebox, Windows Media Player, and Nero are dicking out on me. I've been trying to rip some of my import CDs and all the programs keep crashing or screwing up the tracks. I've been working on this one album for the past hour and I still can't get the tracks imported...

Can anyone out there suggest some better (and hopefully free) software?

(on a side note...blogger is getting bitchy about my html tags, too)

It's the end of the world as we know it...

2005-11-07T23:46:00.000-05:00

and I feel fine.

I'm just surfing around on the net to find the cure for insomnia, and I find this.

I always wondered how it would go...I'm moving to Australia.

Free Money (pt.2)

2005-11-07T16:13:00.000-05:00

So I was running some errands today, apparently I've been taking it easy for so long that I had about a dozen paychecks that I still hadn't deposited. It was good to finally get out and get some fresh air. I can't wait until my eyes finish healing so I can spend more time out than in.

While I was out, I took a little stroll around the local mall, or as one of my friends calls it, the "East Brook gathering of stores" because it's such a tiny little mall. Anywhos, I think I found what I'm going to spend my free money (from that labor union lawsuit I knew nothing about) on.

The long awaited sequel to Dance Dance Revolution Extreme has hit the shelves. For those who don't know what that is, it's based on an arcade game that looks like this:

...and has since been ported to the PS2. (I don't know the guy in the picture, I just found the shot on google images)

...oh yeah, this is another reason why my friends think I'm gay. I play DDR and I'd never have a one-night stand.

So yeah, I do the DDR. It all happened kind of on accident. My cousin has it, and a couple years ago, I noticed it at his house. He asked me to play a game, and I figured I'd check it out. I've been hooked ever since.

As dorky as this makes me, there's actually a story behind why I do it.

Back in college, I was pretty heavy into martial arts. I did long fist kung fu, and yang style tai chi. Ever since, I have also been looking for a trainer for Wing Chun and Ba Qua, but I've had no luck there. Part of the reason why I did it was for the health benefits. It kept me in decent shape and was a good workout. It was also a lot more interesting than running a track or smacking around a tennis ball (a couple of the sports I managed to get kicked off of in high school). This was pretty important, as the only thing that can trump my desire to be healthy, is my desire to not be bored.

But then I moved (500 miles) away from the school and couldn't find a new school with the same or similar styles in my new area. So I quickly gained weight (about 50lbs.) because I stopped training. I know, I know, I could have done other exercise, but a regular gym workout (particularly cardio) is boring to the extent where I can't keep up with it. So a couple years pass and I move back to where I am now. Right away, I sign back up at my old school...and then quit a couple months later.

Most people don't know this, but the IWF (International Wushu Federation) has been petitioning to make wushu kung fu an event in the summer olympics. With the way they've been working, it looks like it's going to happen within the next few olympics. So since I'd first left, my old school starting focusing more on wushu kung fu than the more traditional styles.

The problem with wushu is that it's crap, IMO, as a martial art style. It's a cross between rhythmic gymnastics and a fight scene from a Jackie Chan movie. Most of the movements are superfluous and impractical in a martial arts sense. That said, if I wanted to take classes in prancing around and so forth, I'd just sign up for ballet. At least with ballet, I would finally figure out what Swan Lake was all about.

So there I was, 50lbs. overweight and without a school at which to train. I tried looking at other schools, but they were all either Tae Kwon Do, franchise schools, or Tae Kwon Do franchise schools. I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with TKD, but I've always preferred the chinese styles for various reasons (with Aikido being one of the few exceptions). That's when I came across DDR at my cousin's.

It was pretty much the only reason I went out and bought a PS2. I almost bought one when they first came out, as I used to be a video game junkie, but as time went on I started to grow out of the habit. As of now, I only have 5 games for my PS2, and 3 of them are DDR games.

So I did the DDR...and lost all the weight again. It was just that easy. It's a lot more fun than working out at the gym because it actually involves paying attention to something. For a while, I even had a membership at the Y where I would lift, but eventually I got a little busy/lazy with working three jobs.

And then the weight came back.

But then I developed cancer...

...and lost the weight again.

Now that I'm only going to work one or two jobs and make sure I have enough time to take care of my health, I'll be going back to DDR (and the gym), after I finish my recovery.

So maybe it is a little embarassing to admit that I like DDR, but it keeps me healthy...

...and did I mention that Jake pissed in his guitar case? :P

Putting the "P" in composer

2005-11-06T22:16:00.000-05:00

This is way better than the "Like Janis" story...

Long story short, Jake pissed in his guitar case. Jake is a friend of mine from high school who now spends his time trying to get his metal (I think?) band off the ground. For musicians trying to make a career out of it, they really don't take it all the seriously, and they pretty much spend more time getting drunk/high than practicing. For example, Thursday night, when Jake managed to get hammered off of Corona and Parrot Bay. Needing to relieve himself, he found his open guitar case to be more of a convenience than actually using a toilet.

I'm hoping that Jake might have learned from this experience, because when he watered his guitar, he was absolutely piss drunk and didn't even realize it until his girlfriend told him about it the next morning. And the next day he had "band practice" with his guitar that smelled of urine.

He's embarassed about the whole thing, and didn't want anyone to know...but by then, everyone knew. We're all just social like that.

Of course, I had to blog this.

It's Friday already...

2005-11-04T15:23:00.000-05:00

I can't believe it's Friday already. This week just got away from me. Actually, this past few months just got away from me. I was figuring I'd have a load of down time and I made a little "to do" list of projects to finish before I recover. Things like:

1) Import all my CDs and mp3s into Musicmatch for my mp3 player (I just got it in August)
2) Put my lesson plans in Word or PowerPoint (they've been scribbled on legal pads for the past couple years)
3) Reactivate my application to Notre Dame (though I just found out I have to wait until December on that)
4) Backup the important stuff on my computer and format it (a little spring cleaning)
5) Organize some of my stuff in storage
6) Lots and lots of filing
.
.
.

and the list goes on. Now, I knew I wouldn't get all of this done; I am a realist. I was kind of hoping that I would get a few things done before the holiday. In actuality, I got none of it done. All I've managed to do is import most of my CD collection into Musicmatch (the mp3 player came in really handy these past couple months). Other than that, I haven't gotten a damn thing done.

C'est la vie, eh?

To recap...

2005-10-31T18:26:00.000-05:00

So I couldn't mention any of this last week, as I have family members who read this blog, but I'm officially cured of cancer. My last day of radiation was on Friday, and I surprised the family with the news at a big birthday/end-of-cancer dinner we had on Sunday. Everyone came, literally. Well, Ralph didn't make it, but he hardly ever comes to family functions anymore. One of my sisters couldn't make it either as she was stuck at a conference.

Unfortunately, my eyes are still screwed up from the radiation. My eyes are worse, and probably will continue to worsen for the rest of the week. By this weekend, I should start healing from all this.

But there is good news. One of the gifts I got this weekend was the complete first season of The Muppet Show on DVD. In the past 24 hours, I've already watched about half of it. Why this show (and Fraggle Rock, for that matter) ever left the air is beyond me. Brian Henson should get off his butt and get that show back on the air. :P Seriously though, I just checked IMDB and it turns out he's working on a sequel to the Dark Crystal, so I'll lay off for now.

Speaking of TV on DVD, the second season of The Adventures of Pete & Pete is coming out tomorrow. That's definitely on the to buy list. For those who haven't seen the show, you're missing out...

Interlude...

2005-10-28T18:57:00.000-04:00

I'll admit, I've been slacking off on the blog. I guess I've been too tired to be witty and anecdotal. :)

Seriously though, I have to talk about this ointment I have for my eyes. Because they've been so messed up, the docs have been suggesting I used this ointment that's basically a mix of petroleum jelly and mineral oil. The only side effect is that my vision is totally blurred when I use it. It's almost a beer-goggle effect, it's kinda cool. It makes it a bitch to read or type though.

I have not really kept up much with other people's blogs for the past few days, and probably won't be doing much reading over this weekend. I did catch some things though:

DB - I'm glad to see you're safe after that bitch Wilma. Thanks for the birthday wishes.
Danielle - Happy Birthday
Watcher - sorry for not emailing much. This beer-goggle thing is a real handicap. Thank god it's only temporary.

Even though I had a pretty crappy birthday, I've had a couple of good things happen lately:

Free Money - apparently, the union I was in while teaching in Buffalo was involved in a lawsuit...and long story short, I got an $80 check in the mail, no strings attached. If only it was a few hundred bucks, I could buy a new monitor, but I'm not complaining. It's definitely going to be fun money, but I have no idea what to spend it on yet. Maybe I'll put it towards the digital camera.

Old Friends Reunited - For those who have been following my blog for more than a week, you might remember me mentioning a friend of mine from Buffalo who taught me how to make lemongrass chicken and whose email address I lost. Well, today, out of the blue, I got an email from her asking me what's up. Is that not some cool ass kismet?

So, that's all that's new here. I'm not likely to post over the weekend (I need to rest up), but I promise something good for Monday. :)

Oh yeah, I really have to get to that killing my television bit...

Happy birthday to me...

2005-10-26T20:29:00.000-04:00

*cartman voice* It's my birthday, it's my B-B-B-Birthday.

Well, today I hit the big 2-7, and I celebrated it by finding out that my fancy pants 19" LCD monitor that I spent $400 on in January has just burned out. I sure as hell hope it's still under warranty. Now I'm stuck with my crappy old 17" CRT.

I went to Shady Glen for my birthday. It's a 50's style restaurant that does this cool thing where they fry their cheese so it's all crispy. I had a cheeseburger, and a bit of onion rings and fries. The only thing I could taste the whole meal was the ketchup. I'm a little bummed that I couldn't taste the fried cheese, it was my favorite thing there. Oh well, I probably shouldn't be eating this stuff anyway.

I'm completely wiped from radiation (I'm almost done though)...the "killing my television" entry is going to have a wait for another day.

My philosophy

2005-10-24T17:47:00.000-04:00

I'm going to try and kill my television. I already did it once when I was living in Niagara Falls. Well, technically, I didn't kill it. Actually, when I moved there, I just never bothered to get cable hooked up. There really wasn't much of a point in it, as I was spending half the week in Toronto anyway. And I still watched some television (with bunny ears). The only stations I got were the WB and PBS. The only shows I ever watched were Red Dwarf and Goodnight Sweetheart, two britcoms that were on PBS.

But back to the point. I want to try and kill my television again. Before I can explain why, I have to explain this:

My philosophy on the value of formal education
As a professor and academic researcher, you would think that I had a pretty gung-ho attitude towards college and such. The truth is, not really. None of my friends went to grad school. Only a couple of my friends even went to college. A handful of my friends didn't even finish high school. I don't think that having letters after my name makes me any better or smarter than them. Well, I am the smart one, but that's not the point. :D

Sean is a good example. He's one of the few that didn't graduate high school. He didn't have anything against high school, he just kind of was expelled in his senior year and he never got around to finishing. It all worked out for him though, as now he has a job in IT that pays better than mine.

The fact is, most of what you learn in college doesn't help you later in life (in a practical sense). It's really just about the piece of paper saying that you did it. One of the courses I teach, Intro to Sociology, is a requirement. At least 90% of the students I have are not majors, and are only in the class to fulfill the requirement. Not only that, but most of what I teach in Intro is useless even to me, and I'm a freekin' Sociologist. The origins of Sociology aren't going to help them out later when they're busy working as investment bankers, pharmacists, or assistant night managers at Burger King. Granted, the material will help them develop a better understanding of how the human world around them actually works (which would make them wiser people in general), but self-improvement isn't everyone's thing, so I have nothing against the students who are just there for credit.

So, for a lot of jobs out there, a degree helps, but you can pretty much learn the ropes from actually doing the job. On the other hand, there are some jobs where the education is pretty handy, like a doctor, lawyer, therapist, etc. I'm speaking mainly of the types of jobs where one needs to be trained in various techniques, and where failure can have some drastically negative results.

My philosophy on helping
I'm all for helping people. Whether it's a friend who needs help working on his car, moving, doing some home improvements, whatever. If it's something I can do, I'll do it, it's cool. There are some things I wouldn't do for a friend, no matter how nice they ask. Things like, perform an emergency appendectomy, build a house, or bring their dog back from the dead. It's not that I don't want to do these things, but that I just don't have the ability. Extending oneself outside one's actual abilities is bound to do more harm than good (except for maybe the resurrection, what do you got to lose, right?) I would help a friend find someone who could do these things, but I wouldn't make any attempt at it myself.

One time, I helped a couple friends (who were dating each other) with their relationship. Now, I'm not a clinical sociologist, nor a licensed therapist, though my specialty is in family studies (marriage, kids, and all that fun stuff). I didn't actually counsel them (I'm not qualified), but I listened to their problems (which were problems many couples have), and explained (in my professional opinion) what caused these problems. I didn't wing it, I had the research to back up everything I told them. I didn't even tell them what to do, just that many people have such-and-such problem and blah blah blah seems to improve things, while yadda yadda yadda seems to drive a couple apart. Simple. Oh, and they eventually got married and had a beautiful daughter. :P

...

So what's all this have to do with killing my television? Well, this is getting kind of long, so I'll finish it tomorrow or something. :)

A picture is worth a 1000 words, or so they say

2005-10-22T12:20:00.000-04:00

I have to get a digital camera, it's that simple.

I've recently discovered HNT (Half-Nekkid Thursday), and that sounds like it would be a lot of fun to do. But that's not the main reason.

Frankly, these stories would be way cooler if I had pictures to go with them...especially the Dewey stories (no, not those kinds of pictures).

So I'm definitely getting a digital camera, what I'm looking for is:

-great quality pictures (if I wanted sucky pictures, I'd use my cell phone camera)
-optical zoom (thanks, Maria)
-easy to use (I'm no techno-buff)
-affordable (probably around a few hundred dollars or less)
-reasonably compact/travels well (I plan to take it a lot of places)
-nice features (whatever that means)

That's all I can think of off hand. Does anyone else out there know much about this stuff? I'd appreciate any tips. Danielle/Jersey Girl (don't know if you're still reading my blog, but...), I figure you're quite a bit of a photo-buff, care to point me in the right direction?

Frogtown Goes to Hell (#1)

2005-10-20T23:46:00.000-04:00

To those of you who picked up the Roddy Piper movie reference from the subject heading, pat yourselves on the back. After all, the only thing better than good cinema, is really, really bad cinema. :)

So my hometown has many nicknames. Willi-Rico, Heroin Town, and Frogtown. My favorite is Frogtown, mostly because of that Roddy Piper movie. I'm not really fond of "Willi-Rico" considering it got that name because this town is supposedly dominated by Puerto Ricans. The truth is, the latino population of this town is definitely less than half the total population, most of them are nice people, and many of them are my friends (only one of whom I make fun of for being a latino, but he makes fun of me for being a cracker; we're just silly like that). Frogtown is a pretty small town. It's the kind of place where everybody pretty much knows everybody. Just earlier today I met a woman who turns out to be not only my great-aunt's sister-in-law, but the grandmother of one of my high school friends.

On the other hand, there's a lot of drugs in my town, and much of the petty crime that goes with it. In the entire time that I've lived here (a little more than 25 years), there's only been a few murders, and mostly it was punk kids that were wannabe gangsters. We do have some gangs in the town. There's the Latin Kings, the Bloods, and I believe there's a new one called Two Love or something like that. We don't have drive-bys though. Mostly it's because a lot of the gangsters are too poor to even get a car, and you look like fool doing a drive-by on a 10-speed.

My town was on 60 Minutes once (or whatever news show has Dan Rather). The guy was in town doing a little journalistic piece on all the heroin in town. There's a lot of heroin in town. Seriously, it's easier to score some smack than it is to get a dime of weed. Still, for all the drugs in this town, it's a pretty quiet place. I've never been robbed or mugged, and I even worked in a gas station for a while in college. In my neighborhood, there were two smackhouses, one around the corner, and the other right across the street from me.

I didn't know much about the one around the corner, but the one right across the street from me was decent, for a smackhouse. The people were nice enough, and minded their own business. Then again, when one's lifestyle revolves around heroin, one is not likely to be much of a busybody. The house changed hands probably a half a dozen times while I was growing up, the only thing staying the same was that it stayed a smackhouse.

Nobody ever fixed anything at the house. They had a problem with bees in the top floor apartment (it was a three family house). Their solution was to turn off the heat, and let the winter kill them (it was early autumn at the time). One of the upstairs windows was broken, and stayed that way for quite a while. In twenty years, it was never painted, the porch continued to fall apart, and the house just looked like it was slowly dying.

I was probably nineteen when this all changed. Previously, the house was in the hands of a bunch of lazy white smackheads. Then this pleasant latino family moved in and really cleaned it up. It was repaired and repainted, and the smackhouse was no more. It was eventually sold, but for a while, the new family joined the neighborhood...

one of whom was a registered sex offender...

but this is what one comes to expect in Frogtown.

The Guide Flipside

2005-10-19T20:19:00.000-04:00

Dirty Blonde posted a really interesting guide for guys about how to figure where they stand with the ladies, I thought it would be nice to present the other side, or other chapter, of this guide. So this one is for the ladies.

The point values are more moderate for the men's version of the test, as men have less of a tendency to dramatize. :P

Always remember to make a man happy.
Do something he likes, you get points.
Do something he doesn't like, you lose points.
You don't get any points for doing something he expects.

So...

The Simple Duties
You care if the bed is made............................................................ +0
You actually want him to do it....................................................... -5
You get mad at him for leaving the toilet seat up............................ -5
....because you are physically handicapped and can't lower it yourself... +0
You actually raise the seat when you're done................................ +50
You put potpourri in the bathroom............................................... -5
You expect us to go to Yankee Candle and pick up some more...... -40
You share your responsibility for the cooking.............................. +0
You actually do all the cooking..................................................... +10
You actually do all the cooking and it's good.................................. +40
You never cook and expect him to do all the cooking..................... -45
You have a cat................................................................................ -5
You have a cat and expect him to like it.......................................... -20
You have a cat and expect him to like it even though he's allergic... -40

At The Party
You stay by his side the entire party ................................................ -5
You offer to get him another beer when he's empty ......................... +20
You get mad when he plays some drinking games with his buddies... -10
You punish him (withold sex, etc.) because he played drinking games with his buddies....... -25
You play drinking games with him and his buddies.......................... +25
You drink too much and go home with one of his buddies................ game over

His Birthday
You buy him a six-pack of domestic............................................ -5
You buy him a six-pack of his favorite import............................. +0
You buy him tickets to see his favorite band............................... +15
You buy him tickets to your favorite band.................................. -20
You buy him tickets to the ballet................................................ -30
... but he likes the ballet............................... re-calibrate your gaydar

A Night Out With the Girls
You go with the club with your girls.................................................. +0
You go to a lesbian bar with the girls................................................. +5
You let guys buy you drinks and pretend you're single...................... -10
You let guys buy you drinks, and go home with one of them.............. game over
You let girls at the lesbian bar buy you drinks................................... +0
You let girls at the lesbian bar buy you drinks and bring one home.... +/- ???
... to share with him .................................................................... +50

Your Physique/Looks
You stay reasonably healthy .................................................. +0
You exercise regularly........................................................... +10
You exercise regularly and have a tight body......................... +25
You develop a belly or otherwise gain a lot of weight.............. -10
... and it's because you eat too much junk .............................. -20
... and you complain about it but don't do anything about it... -30
You develop a belly, and get on his case about his .................. -20
... and your belly is bigger....................................................... -35
You cut your hair short.......................................................... -10
...and look like a boy............................................................... -20
...and get mad when he doesn't like it...................................... -35

A Night In With Him
You expect him to do all the work ......................................... -20
... and then blame him when you don't enjoy it ...................... -35
You do that thing his last girlfriend wouldn't do..................... +40
You don't do that thing that his next girlfriend will do ........... -20
You expect foreplay .............................................................. +0
You skip it once in a while ..................................................... +15
He lasts under 10 minutes and you complain ......................... +0
He lasts between 10 and 30 minutes and you complain .......... -10
He lasts the better part of the night and you complain ... you're freekin' insane
You want him to cuddle after ................................................. +0
You also want him to talk ....................................................... -5
You let him go to sleep ........................................................... +15

The Big Question
You ever ask him if you look fat in such-and-such ....................... +0
... and call him a liar if he says no................................................ -10
You ever ask him what he's thinking ........................................... +0
... and expect an answer more than a grunt................................. -10
You ever ask him a question to which there is no right answer ... -40

And now for something completely different (#2)

2005-10-17T22:19:00.000-04:00

Originally, I wasn't going to blog today, but the doc gave me an ointment for my eyes to keep them from burning and itching so bad that I feel like ripping them out of my face. You know, they say they make a Visine for everything, but I've yet to see one for radiation poisoning. Maybe I'm too "niche" of a market.

So...

I like mushroom and (black) olive pizza (green olives optional). I don't even remember how I came across that particular topping combination. I know it was my first year of college, and chances are I was drunk. No big story there.

I really like Chinese and Mexican food. Not together, but I like both for seperate reason, so it's hard to choose one over the other. There's a really good Chinese take out around here, but my Aunt does really good Mexican nights with all the cousins (and plenty of drinking, games, and drinking games).

But what I love is Vietnamese food. For those who don't know, yes, it is very different from Chinese food. I discovered it when I was dating Maria, and have been in love ever since (with the food, of course :P). Her parents owned a killer restaurant, and we'd always mooch off of them. I felt bad about it and tried to help in the kitchen as a sign of gratitude. However, I was a terrible Vietnamese cook (Maria, remember the "wagon wheels"?), and messed up more than I made.

On the other hand, Maria's mom was like the best cook ever. Like seriously, she was the only person who could compete with my grandmother's cooking. That's not something I say lightly, and I only say it because I know my grandmother is never going to see this. :) So Maria's mom could make this one thing that I really liked the most. It was a lemongrass chicken kabob-type-thing. On top of some egg noodles, it was amazing.

But, as we learned yesterday, it didn't exactly work out between Maria and I. And so I bid a sad adieu to the Vietnamese food...well, for about a month. The new semester started, and I was taking a course in American Studies (trust me, it was a lot harder than it sounds, unfortunately). The first day of classes, I met Quan. He was a decent guy that just got to the school on a Fullbright scholarship. One thing that we both had in common is that we both liked My Tam, a Vietnamese pop singer. That's right, I said it, I listen to a Vietnamese pop singer! Whatever, I do what I want!

But we got along pretty well...apparently, we got along better than I thought. Within a week, I was elected to be the treasurer of the Vietnamese Graduate Student Organization, a new student organization that he was forming with a friend of his. I should mention that while I was a graduate student, I am not Vietnamese, nor did I even run for the office. I was simply just voted in. So, I figured, what the hell? Why not? Brad Pitt was in "The Mexican", Tom Cruise was "The Last Samurai", so yours truly could be the treasurer of the VGSA.

We had some fun with it. We pretty much spent the whole year doing fund raisers/cultural events, and I got to see a fair bit of Vietnamese cinema. It was cool, and I made friends with Diep. She was the vice-president, but also a hell of a cook. She showed me this Vietnamese restaurant in Buffalo that I never knew of. They had that lemongrass chicken in a noodle dish that was spectacular (and was simply called bún). She also taught me how to cook that lemongrass chicken, along with a few other dishes. She even tried to teach me Vietnamese, but I was horrible so it didn't last long.

On a side note, after that year, she had to go back to Vietnam, and I had to go back to Connecticut, and I'm pissed because my hotmail account crashed after we moved and I lost her email address, which is a bummer because she was a cool friend.

But back what's important. It all came full circle, and I was reunited with my lemongrass chicken. Was it coincidence? Was it fate? Who cares, I just really like the chicken...

I just met a girl named Maria (part 2)

2005-10-16T20:21:00.000-04:00

Anyways, a year passed, and I moved a fair bit closer to her neighborhood for grad school (Niagara Falls, and she lived in Toronto). By then, my party days were kind of over...well, they were back in Connecticut. I still smoked once in a while with some of my grad school friends, but it was nothing like the old crew. After about a year of the relationship, it ended (for completely different reasons), and I made plans to move back to Connecticut after I finished my Master's.

So here's the interesting thing about the breakup. After I broke up with her, I could not stand to have anything to do with her (sorry, Maria). I wouldn't take her calls or answer her emails; there was zero communication. But over time, all those negative feelings faded. A few years later, I got an email from her out of the blue, and we've been friends ever since. Right now she has a sweet job in Japan teaching english as a second language and I'm wicked jealous of her. My own situation involves teaching at a local college for the next year, then moving to Indiana to get my Ph.D. at Notre Dame.

Don't get me wrong, on a professional level, I'm getting a very sweet deal. I'm not paying any tuition, I get a nice stipend for living expenses, and it's a good school with great people. However, on the social side, I'd much rather be in Tokyo than Indiana.

I was talking to Maria just the other day. She was at a club with her boyfriend and one of his friends. Well, the friend had brought some coke out and would you believe it, Maria went skiing. I also had found out that she was experimenting with some hallucinogens, but that wasn't as surprising. It generally doesn't shock me to find out when people do drugs. Because of where I grew up, I pretty much have come to expect that everyone is uses something. I mean, if I found out my grandmother got baked, I would be surprised, but for the most part, whatever...

Maria totally 180ed on me. She had gone from the "Drugs are bad, mmmkay" woman to the "Drugs are in my nose right now, mmmmkay" woman. It was a total shocker. And so I told her, "Holy crap, Maria, I'm shocked!" I wasn't mad or anything, maybe a little concerned, but mostly just surprised. We talked about it some, mainly I was curious as to why she would party like that after how much we would fight about my partying back in the day. She made a very interesting point. She told me that it might have been different if she was able to hang out there and party with me.

Granted, we would have been poisoning our bodies with all sorts of harmful chemicals in the pursuit of a more exciting life experience, thereby reducing our lifespans by a possibly significant duration...but we would have done it together.

So I guess that's the moral of the story. Maybe drugs are bad, but they aren't so bad if you share them with a friend or loved one. So don't bogie that joint, pass it around. :)

I just met a girl named Maria (part 1)

2005-10-15T22:54:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I missed a day of blogging. It's pretty time consuming to blog every day. Maybe I should make this an every other day blog...a bidaily blog. No wait, that's twice a day.

Anyways, I got a visit from Bryan before work today. He's getting real busy with his whole being-a-homeowner thing. Unlike Sean, he still plans to have some fun as a homeowner with an occasional bonfire party and tequilapalooza. Of course, we'll see what happens when he's actually paying a mortgage. I'm sure he'll be drinking a lot, but it'll be to kill the pain from his financial burden, and not at a party with his friends. Seriously though, I hope it works out for him.

I probably had the most fun with him back in the day. He lived two houses up from me when we were growing up. As kids, he would start digging a hole in his backyard, I'd do the same in mine, and we'd plan to meet in the middle. The first time I rode a dirtbike, it was one of his. The first time I crashed a dirtbike, it was one of his. The first time I got high, it was with him. The first time I got laid...well he actually had nothing to do with that. :)

When I was in undergrad, the rest of the crew and us would party almost every night, which was practically a miracle because we were always broke. Dominoes stopped delivering to the house (the same one from "Humble Pie and Honey") because they were sick of us never actually having enough money for the pizza. Yet we always had beer and booze...

There was also a lot of good weed going through that house at the time. This was before all the big local crackdowns by the cops, where it's been almost impossible to find good weed since (not that I care, as I don't smoke anymore). At the time, I was milking an A.D.D. diagnosis to get my hands on all the ritalin, speed, and adderal that I could get my insurance to cover. I wasn't exactly using it as directed, though I was actually using it more for school than for fun. In any case, we had a lot of fun, not just with drugs, but in general. Besides, nobody was arrested (much), and nobody was hurt (much)...so what's the big deal, right?

Well, I was kinda dating this woman at the time. I say "kinda" because it was a long-distance relationship so we didn't get to go out so much, but we talked a lot and I wasn't hooking up with other women. It would eventually turn into my longest relationship ever. We would always get into fights about my partying. I didn't see it as much of a problem, as I never cheated on her, and (almost) never got hurt. I just had fun with my friends.

(to be continued...)

Ralph

2005-10-13T22:56:00.000-04:00

My eyes are fried, but I figured I'd write a little something anyway.

Well, I got to hang out with one of my cousins today. Every family has it's problems, but I think I got pretty lucky when it comes to cousins. There's seven of us (including my sisters), though two of the cousins are too "mature" to party like we do. Whatever, the rest of us still have fun. It's because of us cousins that beer pong has become a family sport. One time we even did parent/child competitions. We also created DDDR, Dance Dance Drinking Revolution. It's way better than the plain DDR in the arcade. Last Easter, my aunt had us all over for an easter egg hunt. We thought it was pretty fruity, but we all decided to give it a shot. It turns out that she didn't hide eggs, but little goodie bags with a some candy and nips (mostly whiskey, tequila, or rum). It was pretty cool, and we're hoping do to it again next year.

You know, after reading what I just wrote, I'm kind of surprised that nobody has developed a drinking problem... :D

Of the two cousins that don't party, one is my sister, the other is another cousin (who we call Ralph)...who are also the two oldest cousins. Actually, it's pretty interesting how Ralph got his name.

It's like pulling teeth to get Ralph to party with us. I mean, he used to hang out all the time. We'd get together with his younger brother back in the day and play Nintendo or Playstation all night. But Ralph up and got married, and it all changed. All of a sudden, he had to be in bed for 9pm, and he didn't really want to hang out anymore. Of course, that didn't stop us from trying. One day, a year or so ago, we actually got him to join up in a little beer pong tournament we were having. He had to head home (a few hour drive) in the evening. I should mention that he had a big golden retriever, and he drove a pickup truck. His wife was visiting too, so he could play some beer pong, and she could drive home. Well, Ralph got smashed...like, seriously. He was probably drunker than any of us had ever been at one of these parties. At one point, he reeled back to throw the ping pong ball, but fell into the wall behind him. It was pretty cool/funny seeing him loosen up for a change.

But all good things must come to an end...and he had to go home. His wife helped him stumble into the truck, the dog got in the back, and they headed home. We're still hanging out partying a couple hours later when we get a call from his wife. They were still on the way home, but she wanted to let us know that he got sick and hurled out the window of the truck. Unfortunately, traveling 70mph down the highway caused his puke to stream down the side of the truck and hit the dog that was lying down in the bed. Ever since, that cousin is known as Ralph.

I felt bad for the dog, but it's still a funny story. :)

Breasts, Thighs, and Wings...

2005-10-12T21:27:00.000-04:00

I was reading someone else's blog where Hooters was mentioned, and it reminded me of the one (and only) time I went to Hooters. It's starts off as an inane rant...until Bob gets involved. :)

My friend, Bob, was working in Berlin in this motel off the Berlin Turnpike. He wasn't actually working for the motel, but his employer rented out a bunch of rooms there to run his business. I don't know the details, but apparently Bob had some job with computers. Now, the Berlin Turnpike was a special place. Not special like Disneyworld, but special like the Electric Blue. Right next to each other, across the turnpike from where Bob worked, was (in this order) a daycare, a strip club, another seedy motel, and a porn store. Talk about one stop shopping. You can drop your kids off at daycare, and hit the strip club and try to get lucky with one of the strippers. If you do, the hotel with the hourly rates is right there, and if you don't the porn shop is happy to offer a "substitute". This segment of the turnpike was riddled with porn shops, sleezy hotels, strip clubs, and of course...a Hooters.

One day, I decide to meet Bob at work and grab some lunch with him. He suggested Hooters (his boss goes there all the time), and I figured, why not? I had never been, and I was curious about what made it so special. So off we went.

So we get there, and I see the inside of my first Hooters. I was completely unimpressed. Orange daisy dukes and tank tops? It was about the same as what girls would wear when I was in high school. It didn't matter though, I could care less about cheap gimmicks like that. So we're seated, and our waitress seems to have a bit of an attitude and I have no idea why. Whatever. Bob and I order beers and some wings. Five minutes go by and I see two beers put up at the bar. Another ten goes by and they're not at our table. So I go to the bar myself, ask about the beers, and sure enough, they're ours. The girl behind the bar starts to pass our pints, but I ask for fresh beers. No point in drinking warm beers that have been sitting around. There's a little more attitude, but I get my beers.

The wings arrive a half an hour later. The waitress just kind of drops them on the table as if we're wasting her time by ordering food. We order our sandwiches, and she huffs off. As for the wings, they're not that great. Granted, I used to live in Buffalo and I'm a little spoiled, but these weren't any better than the frozen wings from the Stop & Shop. Eventually, our sandwiches arrive, which are mediocre as well, though they are fantastic in comparison to the service. We get through our meal and I pick up the check. My first impulse was just to not tip at all, which was something I've never done before. In fact, I usually tip around 20%. I know that a lot of waitstaff live off the tips, but the service here was just miserable. I figured, though, that I have to leave something, as I don't want to come off as a guy that never tips. So I paid my bill and left her with a two cent tip.

...on a side note, I know working at Hooters isn't exactly empowering, but it's not like I'm the guy that forced them into that line of work, so it's not my problem. Anyways, I wasn't one of the pervs grabbing her ass or making stupid comments. I just wanted some wings, a sandwich, and a beer...and maybe a little common courteousy. I held this waitress to the same standard I hold all waitstaff...be competent and courteous. It's all it takes for me to tip well.

But that's not all...

Bob was actually genuinely upset that I had such a horrible meal and horrible service. I just let it go and droped him off at work. We had plans to meet later and hit the pubs, so that night I stopped at his place to pick him up. I walked in, and he's at his computer writing an email to Hooters' Public Relations department going on about how it was his friend's first time at Hooters and the food was terrible, but the staff was worse, etc. He also added that he frequented Hooters with "clients", but after our experience, that was going to change. It was hilarious...and he sent it.

Well, a couple weeks later, Bob got a letter of apology as well as a certificate for free visit for him and up to four guests. Pretty sweet, I say, though I took a pass on helping him cash it in.

Carnation Instant Breakfast

2005-10-11T22:17:00.000-04:00

I almost forgot to blog today...unfortunately not because I was too busy with something exciting.

Ok, so I'm not eating as much as I used to nor as much as I should. In fact, between the radiation and my messed up sense of taste/smell, I'm taking in less than 1000cal a day. The doctors are getting on my case because I've lost 5lbs., but considering I have cancer, 5lbs. isn't that much to lose. So they're telling me to start drinking Carnation Instant Breakfast, as it's loaded with vitamins, minerals and calories.

"What the hell?" I figured. I'll give it a try. For those who don't know, it's essentially chocolate (or strawberry, or vanilla) milk. You mix the packet of powder with a glass of milk, and poof, you have an instant breakfast...hence the name. I don't get why this stuff isn't beating Nestle Quik or all those other chocolate milk powders in the stores. It's much healthier, and it really doesn't have a lot of calories, compared to regular chocolate milk.

Then I got to thinking, maybe Carnation Instant Breakfast tastes like ass. I mean, it's not like -I'm- going to know if it tastes bad. This could be the kind of thing that only people like Mormons or the Amish buy as a treat for their kids. Has anyone out there had this stuff? Set me straight.

Why my friends think I'm gay

2005-10-10T22:35:00.000-04:00

I don' t want to cap off today with that lame Family Feud bit, so...

I'm not gay. We've established that in "You look at my skin...". Regardless, out of all my friends, I'm apparently the most likely to be gay. Dewey fucked Nick in the ass, but I'm the gay one. Seriously though, it doesn't bother me. We all give each other a hard time for something or another. We kid, it's good-natured, and we're cool with it. However, what I thought was interesting was what started the whole "I'm gay" thing.

Before I tell you that story, I have to tell you this story. Most of us went to the same middle school, though everyone but me went to the same high school. All my friends went to the tech school, while I went to the regular public high school. They were all into cars, motocross, etc. and it wasn't my thing. I mean, I liked riding bikes and all, but I didn't want to rebuild one from parts. It was all cool, we still hung out and had plenty of other things in common. That's that story.

A few years back, we're at Bumpers having a few drinks and shooting pool. I ended up meeting a woman and we shot some pool and talked. She was fairly hot, but she talked a lot about cars. Like seriously, 90% of the conversation was about cars. I asked her if she read much (the topic of school came up), and she told me about some article in some car magazine. I mean, I can change my oil, brakes, and do some minor repairs and custom work, but she was throwing around words like "engine block" and "fuel injection" and "flux capacitor" (or whatever).

Eventually, she invited me to her place, but I was so freekin' bored that by the time we would have hit the bed (or couch, or kitchen table, or hood of my/her car :P), I'd be asleep. So I gracefully backed out, and pointed her in the direction of one of my other friends (who liked cars and probably would have gotten off on all that). I mean, she was nice and everything, but we were just not on the same wavelength and I had to take a pass.

And ever since then, I'm the gay one.

In other news, a Kohl's just opened up in town and they're having this huge grand opening sale selling everything for dirt cheap because this town is full of crackheads that can't afford Kohl's gear at regular prices and if they don't have a sale, all their shit is going to get shoplifted anyway...and I got this this pair of Sketchers (in brown leather) on sale for $40. I was, like, so totally psyched because I had been looking for a new pair of shoes for a while, but not liking anything out there.

...and they have the nerve to think I'm gay. :P

And now for something completely different...

2005-10-10T12:10:00.000-04:00

Ok, I'm not a political guy. I vote, therefore giving me the right to complain, but I don't complain. The fact is, everyone is so dead set in their beliefs that it would be a waste of breath. I'm cool with that. I'm even cool with the people who disagree with any of my beliefs, and I can respect it as long as they have an educated and rational reason behind their beliefs.

I'm not going to get into politics in this blog, mainly because I don't care enough to waste my time ranting and raving about what's wrong with the world today and who's to blame. What I might have a tendency to rant and rave about is stupidity. Not merely the stupidity of the guy that cuts you off in traffic without signaling, or the girl that answers her cell phone at the movie theater, but the stupidity of people who consider themselves intelligent and informed (though are actually just presumptuous) but don't have a clue about what's going on in the world around them.

People like whoever the hell the 100 people are that are surveyed for "The Family Feud" questions. I caught one round of it today while flipping though the channels.

What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Switzerland?

In 1949, the fourth Geneva convention took place and included revisions of the treaties from the three previous Geneva conventions. The treaties basically established an international humanitarian law that dictates the rules of war. It's what makes terrorism unacceptable in peace loving societies. The first convention also established the International Committee of the Red Cross, without which we wouldn't have the American Red Cross, or the Red Cross organizations in other nations. And without the Americal Red Cross, many of Katrina's victims would be up shit creek without a paddle (possibly literally). So not only were the Geneva conventions instrumental in establishing disaster relief almost everywhere, it's what has kept people civilized in uncivilized wars.

So, out of like 7 different answers, one might think that Geneva would make it into maybe the top three answers, right? Wrong. It didn't even make it on the list. Not only that, but neither of the families even guessed it. One guy actually guessed Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate. Where does "The Family Feud" get these 100 people? Is there some home for the criminally stupid where the "residents" are surveyed every day as part of a work-release program?

Oi...

Like Janis

2005-10-09T21:54:00.000-04:00

I haven't been able to drink since this whole cancer thing started (you might be surprised at how many things alcohol can negatively interact with), though I'm looking forward to a nice tall pint of Guinness when this is all over. To be blunt, drinking is great, and getting drunk is not all that bad either. However, most people reach a point in their life where they figure they should tone it down a bit. For a lot of people I know, this point is usually triggered by a pretty bad drinking story.

By the end of my first year of college, I was partying almost daily. Actually, the partying is the reason why I had to leave the college. So I figured I would go out with a bang. Jack Daniels was my preferred poison at the time so I bought a handle of that...or more like, I got an upperclassman to pick me up a handle of that. Between that and some beer and booze some friends of mine had, we put together one hell of a end of semester party, I think. The fact is, I had drunk so much of that handle, I don't remember much of anything about the night before. One thing I do remember is that the carpets in the dorm were blue, kind of like ocean water. Actually it's very much like ocean water when you're plastered off of JD. I vaguely remember trying to swim from one room to another. And that's pretty much all I remember.

The next day was lots of fun. I woke up with a pounding headache and was not conscious for more than 2 minutes before I had to hurl. At first, it was your typical hurl, but it didn't end once my stomach was empty. I kept vomiting, but instead of actual vomit, it was this mucousy sludge that I figured was part of my stomach lining. When it all subsided, I went back to bed, where I stayed for the next 2 days. I had been hung over before, but the worst had previously been a little headache and a bit of a sour stomach. This was the hang over to end all hang overs...literally, as I have not had one since.

This was not the point where I figured I should tone it down. This was actually the point where things really began to take off.

Fastfoward a little more than five years. I was at Sean's wedding reception, and he had an open bar. It was kind of nice that he had an open bar because he didn't drink at all (he was straightedge), and his wife hardly drank, but he knew the rest of us did. While the open bar was expensive, we definitely got his money's worth. I was completely hammered. I had been drinking 7&7s all night and they got the best of me. I won't even go into the minor embarassing things I did, I'll just cut straight to the majorly embarassing one.

The reception was over and we decided to have a little after party at the hotel (most of us had rented rooms). My best friend, Bryan, had rented one of the nicer rooms (which I was sharing with him) and it happened to have a whirlpool bathtub. It wasn't a full-on jacuzzi or anything, but I guess it could be fun for one. Dewey had met some girl at the wedding, and he wanted to "show her how it works". It would have been ridiculous to try and fit two people in that tub (yes, even one on top of the other), but whatever. The problem was that I was in the bathroom puking my guts out. I guess that's a bit of a mood killer. Dewey and Bryan were trying to convince me to go lie down on the bed, but were not having much success.

"If I lie down and fall asleep, I'm gonna choke on my vomit like Janis Joplin!"

Having such an irrational alcohol induced fear was not embarassing. What was embarassing was that I know that's not how Janis died, all my friends knew that's not how Janis died, but but yet it didn't stop me from claiming that as my defense to why I was staying hunched over the toilet. This was the moment where I decided to cut back on the drinking. Eventually, they dragged me to the bed, put the trash bucket next to it, and I passed out. By that time, I had totally screwed up Dewey's chances of hooking up. I woke up the next morning, and Bryan told me the Janis Joplin story. I remembered the whole thing, but hearing it made me sound even stupider. After we checked out, we got breakfast at a diner, and then we headed home.

Oh, and I didn't have a lick of a hangover. :D

Go, Speed Racer!

2005-10-08T21:13:00.000-04:00

I'm to beat to type a long story today, so I'll just post a short one.

I was visiting a friend today a few towns over. After I left, I saw the remains of a pretty nasty car accident a few blocks from his house. I'm fairly certain that nobody was hurt, but the three cars involved were pretty smashed up. So, I got to thinking. What if I tried to follow every single traffic law? What if I stopped the right amount of time at every stop sign, stopped blowing through every yellow light, and stopped speeding? How long could I do it?

10 minutes. It was the speeding that got me.

Humble Pie and Honey

2005-10-07T19:30:00.000-04:00

I am humbled every time I listen to The Mars Volta. Simply put, their music goes far beyond the typical and predictable 4-chord progression and versus/chorus/verse format used by so much of the music out there. Listening to one of their albums (and I listen to an album at a time, not just a song) is like I'm listening to Vivaldi or Tchaikovsky, where one track isn't some individual song, but a movement in a much larger symphony. I would give my left nut for half their talent and creativity.

I started playing guitar when I was in high school. At the time I had been listening to a lot of Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, Soundgarden, and pretty much every other grunge band. It looked easy to play, and it was. I really only had one reason for picking up the guitar, the girls. And it worked. I had barely been playing a week, had four chords to my name, and these two girls were competing for my attention. The one that "won" had pickpocketed me but I didn't figure it out until after school. I called her up, and...well, that's not what this story is about.

Since I've heard The Mars Volta (about two years ago), my perspective on music has completely changed. In general, I don't even bother with popular music, and pretty much think that the power chord is a curse. If the me now could go back and meet the me back then (in high school), the me-now would take the me-back-then's guitar and beat him over the head with it. What a waste...

Unfortunately, I haven't picked up a guitar in years. In college, I started to take music a little more seriously. Frank Zappa was a major influence, as was Sunny Day Real Estate and Mepheskapheles. Basically, bands that used more than power chords and predictable progressions were my inspiration. During my third year, I put together a band. By this time, I had moved back to Connecticut and was hanging out with my crew a lot. A bunch of us had rented a house in Columbia (one of the houses we were evicted from for partying), and we called ourselves the Columbians. Not the band, mind you, but all the people who partied there were called the Columbians. It's not the most creative name, but when you're drunk and stoned, it's "like the coooooolest freekin' name....ever!"

The band was called sol, or Sol, or SOL, or S-O-L...it was a work in progress. We never had any intentions of playing gigs or anything (except maybe for parties with the Columbians), we just wanted to experiment. We had kind of a punk/emo thing going, though we fiddled with ska, hardcore, and even a little surf music. There was Jake on bass. He had never actually played bass before, but he picked it up fast. His cousin, Brian, was on the drums, and he was pretty tight. That left me on guitar and vocals. This group was a lot more fun than the stupid ass garage bands I wasted time with in high school. Still, nothing lasts forever.

Jake decided to join the Air Force. He had been working for various heating/ventilation/AC service companies and hated it. Not long after enlisting, he met some girl in Florida and got married (too) soon after. She hated all of us, and she came to that decision before she even met any of us. As a result, he was forbidden to ever talk to us again. Last year, I believe in the summer, they got a divorce. Apparently, a marriage was a real drag on her social life, and while it was fun and all, she wanted to see other people. The Columbians were ecstatic when we heard the news. A week later, they were remarried when she decided that she wanted to "work things out".

Brian was another story. As a person, I had some apprehensions, even more so when I found out the following story. However, he was a great drummer. He used to be married, but that didn't work out. He was in his mid-20s when his wife caught him cheating on her...with her 14-year old cousin. So he gets the boot. Granted she got everything in the divorce (except his clothes and music gear), but she was still angry a few years later (which I understand), so she finagled a way to press charges against him for statutory rape. As a result, he had to leave town...fast.

So that was it for the band, though it was fun while it lasted. There was a song that was written while we were together that has become a legend among the Columbians. I wish I could say that I was a part of writing it, but I wasn't around the day that Bob came over, had too much Yager, and got on the mic. Jake backed him up with a bit of a bassline, and Brian kept the beat. We had a 4-track hooked up and recorded the whole thing, but between the eviction and the next house, it was lost. In terms of style, it was somewhat like a blend of "Stuart" by The Dead Milkmen (minus the guitar) and "He's Doing Time in Jail" by Wesley Willis. I don't remember the verses, but the choruses are enough to get and idea of the song. They went like:

"Hey, Honey"

Hey, honey, I don't know how to tell you this,
but I think your sister's really fine.
Hey, honey, I don't know how to tell you this,
but your sister gets me off all the time.

Hey, honey, I don't know how to tell you this,
but I think your mom is really fine.
Hey, honey, I don't know how to tell you this,
but your mom gets me off all the time.

Hey, honey, I don't know how to tell you this,
but I think, your dad is really fine.
Hey, honey, I don't know how to tell you this,
but your dad gets me off all the time.

Hey, honey, I don't know how to tell you this,
but I think, your dog is really fine.
Hey, honey, I don't know how to tell you this,
but your dog gets me off all the time.

I'm definitely picking up my guitar again. As soon as I'm well enough, I'll go shop for a new amp (my old one is fried), and get back in the swing. I'm sure it will be a completely different experience with the influences I have today.

Hustle & Aunt Flo

2005-10-06T20:31:00.000-04:00

My eyes are wiped from a long day at radiation, but I want to blog every day to keep up the habit (no pun intended). Therefore, I'll just share this fun little story...

If there's one thing you have to be careful of around here, it's the tramps on the hustle. It isn't so much a problem at Bumpers (except for the pool hustlers), but it's a pretty big problem at Sneakers. Sneakers is a lot like Road House, but not as nice. It's a run down dive in the middle of nowhere that the college kids don't go near, but the locals frequent. Unfortunately, most of the women are middle-aged barflies looking to cheat on their husbands and/or hustle some cash. The bartenders can't mix a drink to save their lives. Popping the cap off a beer is about the extent of their abilities. Once, I ordered a Rusty Nail and got the look that your dog would give you if you tried to read it some Tolstoy. The only saving grace of the place is that they sometimes have entertainment, and there are some local bands that can make it worth going out there.

When I go to Sneakers, I don't even bother with the women. It's kind of a rule of thumb, if you want to keep your cash and your dignity. Go to Sneakers, have a few brews, enjoy the music, and go home alone. That's how it's done. On the other hand, Nick and Dewey had their own plans, and it didn't involve keeping their money.

So they meet this woman at Sneakers. She's not terribly attractive, but apparently she makes up for it by being terribly easy. Nick and Dewey are working her for less than an hour, and she's already going to Dewey's with them. They do their tag team/rotisserie/whatever, and that's that. Less then a week later, she comes knocking on Dewey's door saying she's pregnant and needs $200 for an abortion. Dewey, definitely not being ready for fatherhood, coughs up the cash and sends her on her way. Later that day, she's at Nick's door with the same story. Of course, Nick forks over $200 as well. Later on, Nick and Dewey get together, swap stories, and then have a few beers over dodging the daddy bullet.

It's the next weekend, and they're at Sneakers again. Guess who's there? It's "Easy Rider" and she's looking for a little company. Nick takes a pass, not because he sees the hustle, but because he's working some other girl. On the other hand, Dewey's prospects for the evening aren't looking that great, so he takes her back to his place for a little lovin'. They bump uglies, and a few days later, she comes knocking on his door. Apparently, she's pregnant again...two weeks after the last time being pregnant. Of course, she doesn't want to keep it, so she needs $300 (inflation, eh?) for the abortion. Dewey, definitely not being ready for fatherhood, coughs up the cash and sends her on her way.

The rest of the crew find out about this, and we sit Dewey down for a little talk. Apparently, he isn't too familiar with how the miracle of life works, exactly. One fact that has eluded his erudition is that the odds of a woman being fertile twice in the same month, two weeks apart, range from small to impossible. Not only that, but while the economy does fluxuate, the price of an abortion isn't going to increase by 50% in two weeks.

"Well, maybe there was a sale the first time?"

We'd like to think that Dewey learned a little something from this experience. I mean, I'm sure he didn't, but we'd like to think he did.

You look at my skin...

2005-10-05T19:36:00.000-04:00

This entry is all about "Inked" and "Miami Ink". For those who don't know, they are a couple of reality shows about two different tattoo shops. I figured, since it was supposed to be on last night, I would be topical. I know, I know, I think TV is a waste of time. In my defense, I've been laid up, can't do much else, and am bored. Anyways, this isn't as much about the show itself, but about Thomas' hair, pseudo-punk and my own shortcomings.

I found both shows at the same time. And they're on at the same time, on the same night. Because I don't have Tivo, or the motivation to learn how to use a VCR, I had to choose which show to watch (later I found out that they both repeat on Wednesday nights, but that doesn't matter yet). I watched each for five minutes or so, and choose "Inked". My reason being that "Miami Ink" was a little slow-paced, and I really liked Thomas' hair (Thomas is one of the shop owners on "Inked").

Ok, I'm not gay. I know I'm not gay. The reason why I know I'm not gay is because I like women...a lot. Furthermore, when I was in college, I asked myself the defining question, "Would I enjoy sex with a man?". To which I answered, "I can't say that I would...not even if I was in prison and someone else dropped the soap." The key was that I didn't answer too quickly, like someone who really is gay, but in denial. And I didn't take too long to answer, like someone who really is gay, but hasn't it figured it out yet. I truly believe that my response time was exactly what it should be for a heterosexual male who is secure in his sexuality and not homophobic. Granted, I probably shouldn't have had this conversation aloud...at my grandmother's funeral...while giving her eulogy...

So what the hell am I doing choosing a show based on some guy's hair? It was rather brilliant, though. For those who don't know, it's kind of a mohawk, but without the shaving of everything but the mohawk. This way, if you're feeling really punky, you can do it up, but if you're feeling more mellow, you can style it a little more conservatively. It's the perfect style for me so I can look more professional for work or more like myself for every other moment in my life...and I kind of stole it for a while.

As if choosing the show for the dude's hair isn't bad enough, I also chose it because it had a catchier opening theme song. This is even more embarassing because it was done by one of those pseudo-punk bands. I love Dead Kennedys, Subhumans, Minor Threat, Black Flag, The Dead Milkmen, etc. and I can't stand what punk is turning into today. I mean, every single song is either about breaking up with your girlfriend, trying to get the girl, catching your girl with another guy (probably a real man considering how these psuedo-punkers are a bunch of whiny little bitches)...I mean, see a theme here? One Dead Kennedys song has more social unrest and political depth than the entire catalog of Good Charlotte, New Found Glory, Bowling for Soup, Green Day, and Yellow Card all roiled up in a doily. But I digress...

"Inked" isn't even good as far as a show about a tattoo shop goes. Most of the show is spent on how Quinn wants a boob job, how their new manager is caught by security for buying Vicodin from some chickenhead, or on Monica's dramatic (and doomed) relationship with Thomas. Almost every week, something happens, and Thomas' response is, "This is the kind of shit that can get us shut down!" You hardly see anything by way of tattoos. They should just rename the show to "How We Fucked Up This Week". So one day, I switched over to "Miami Ink" and it's a million times better. Most of the show is actually spent on tattoos and the stories behind them. The artists are also a lot more skilled and stable (though I still give props to Clark from "Inked", he has all the talent there), and spend more time discussing the work with just a smattering of personal drama. Ever since then, I've followed "Miami Ink" and kind of let "Inked" drift off.

Besides, both Nuñez and Yoji (from Miami Ink) have great hair...oh wait...I'm straight... :)

Come down off your cross, use the wood to build a bridge, and get over it

2005-10-04T22:30:00.000-04:00

I was almost worried that I'd have nothing to write about today...but then I received more hate mail from Sue Ann Campbell. At first, I was tempted to reply, but she isn't very entertaining anymore so I'll pass. Besides, I don't want to dedicate so much time to her that I can't handle any other hate mail I may receive. Her mail was all about how she's had such a rough life and I shouldn't complain about my job, blah, blah, blah..and she just doesn't understand...

"You think you have it bad..."

Everyone has a story. Nobody has a perfect life. What is the point of turning your own struggles into a pissing contest, especially with some stranger from the net? (Rhetorical question). Everyone has their crap, but nobody is going to get anywhere by throwing it in other people's faces and generally whining about it. Venting is one thing, but turning it into an excuse to be miserable and trying to make others miserable is just...what a waste of life experience.

Look at Martin Luther King, Harvey Milk, Ernest Hemingway...their lives have been far from an endless stream of blueberry muffins and blowjobs, but look what they've accomplished. Granted...they all died prematurely.......and one was self-inflicted...

I guess that's the moral of today's tale. As Chris Titus once said, "Get off your cross, use the wood to build a bridge, and get over it."

I don't want to be too serious, though, so let's reminisce of a simpler time and of simpler people:

It's another night a Bumpers, and I was hanging out with Bob, Dewey, and most of the rest of the crew. I think I was 22 at the time, so Dewey would be 23, and Bob would be 19. Dewey is...well Dewey. We've come to expect a certain level of moral bankruptcy from him. Frankly, it was part of his charm. Bob and I were shooting a game of pool, and Dewey was on his cell talking to one of the "ladies" he knows. They wanted to hang out and drink, but they were kind of stranded without a ride. So Dewey made a suggestion. He tells her to call up two of her friends, and Bob and I would go with Dewey to pick them up, then we'd go back to Dewey's for a little hot tub party. He also had a stocked bar to go with the hot tub. I should mention that Dewey wasn't terribly well off or anything, he just lived with his parents and they were loaded.

She called her friends and then calls Dewey back. It's on and she gave Dewey directions. Bob, Dewey, and I piled into my car and we head out. I didn't know the town too well, so I had no clue where we were going. We drove around a bit and end up at this huge brick building. It's dark, but I could barely make out the sign in the front. It read, "Manchester High School". There were three girls on the stoop waiting for us. Bob and I looked at each other and simultaneously let out a sigh. They came to the car and I swear, they couldn't be a day older than 14. Apparently, they had been expelled for something stupid and had to go to the alternative school at night. They got in the car, and we drive off.

Before long, we're at Dewey's and head to his basement bedroom/bar/hot tub room. As we walked in, he said "Shhh guys, my dad has to get up early for work tomorrow." I don't think anyone saw me shake my head. Bob and I set up shots while Dewey prepped the hot tub. The girls are with Bob and I and we're trying to have some conversation. What the hell are you going to talk about with a 14-year-old girl when you're 22?

"So, isn't high school a drag?"
"Are you in driver's ed yet?"
"Would you visit me in prison?"

Bob and I already planned on leaving. We were more into actual women, not girls for whom reaching womanhood is in their five-year plan. However, we weren't going to pass up a chance to dive into Dewey's parent's hooch, so we loaded up on some shots. The girls were trying to keep up, but they're 14 and we're doing Johnny Walker Gold and then liquid cocaine. Eventually, the hot tub was ready and Dewey invited us to dive in.

"Oh, but we forgot our bathing suits," one of the girls said with a transparent coyness. She almost managed it without slurring. Oi...kids...

Bob and I made our excuses and head back to Bumpers. By last call, the entire crew knew the story, including Sean. The next night, we're all at Bumpers again. Sean...being Sean...turns to Dewey and asked, "So how did it go with your ladies last night?"

You can guess the rest. :D

Why this isn't a cancer blog

2005-10-03T17:04:00.000-04:00

So I want to explain this cancer deal. Not because I need to vent, but I realized I'm kind of half-assing it by mentioning in passing that I have cancer, thought it was going to kill me, but am ok now. So, here's the cancer story in a nutshell, followed by why it doesn't bother me.

Back in February, I got a bloody nose. It was a bit of a gusher, but not too bad. The weird thing was that the first thing to come to my mind was that scene from The Doctor with William Hurt where he's in the car, gets a bloody nose, and then later finds out he has cancer. Then I realized, William Hurt didn't get a bloody nose, he coughed up blood. Therefore, I obviously didn't have cancer, so I waited for my bloody nose to clot.

A few weeks later, another bloody nose. Hm, strange coincidence. It was probably the changing seasons and the dryness of your typical New England winter. No big deal. This continued, until the end of April, when I was getting bloody noses every week, then every other day, then every day...and by this time, I had called my doctor and made an appointment to get this checked out. Well, I didn't make it that far before I had to go to the ER with a bloody nose that just wouldn't stop. After an hour and a half of waiting (and bleeding) in the ER, it finally did stop. The next day was chaos, and the beginning of May.

May was spent with me getting my nose stuffed with packing. Packing is basically a tampon, but it was much more masculine in my case...really, it was. :) The specialists (I was referred to ear/nose/throat specialists at this point) believed I had a polyp that was latched on to a good blood supply. They figured if they could get the bleeding to stop for long enough, it would be safe for an endoscopy (surgery to remove the polyp). Over the course of May, I was packed three times. The packing was a fair bit larger than a normal tampon. Just imagine having that shoved up your nose so far it almost tickles the back of your throat. Thankfully, by the end of May, things were under enough control that my ENT doc could do the surgery.

He removed the polyp and cauterized the area, then sent the polyp to a pathologist to be analyzed. If I was a religous man, I would say this was a miracle. The doctors I was referred to later said that most doctors would just remove a polyp and that's it, but the fact that my ENT doc went the extra step to send it to a pathologist probably saved my life. The pathologist told my ENT doctor it was cancer, and my ENT doctor told me. It was a short conversation, and it went:

Doc: The lab results are back, I'm afraid it's cancer.
Me: Bummer...well, what kind and how bad?
Doc: Well, we need to run more tests to figure that out.
Me: Ok, the tell me this. Is it "you're going to be ok, buddy" cancer, "you're going to live...sort of" cancer, or "don't buy green bananas" cancer?
Doc: We really don't know at this point.

Now, I'm not going to say I'm a pessimist...well, yeah I am. I guess I've always had the attitude that if I expect the worst, I'll never be disappointed. So I figured that was it for me. Most people would freak out at this point, but not me. This was the fourth time in my life that I was convinced I was going to die, so I kept my mellow. After all, when it came to dying, I was a seasoned pro. Most people would also rush out and do all the stuff they've always wanted to do before they die, but not me. Unfortunately, I did all that after the last time I almost died, so my dance card was empty.

After getting the C-bomb, I pretty much just waited. In about a month, they had determined the type and stage of the cancer, and referred me to even more specialized specialists at Yale Memorial Hospital, which I guess would make them extra-specialists. They told me that the type of cancer was called estheioneuroblastoma, or olfactory nerve blastoma, or what-the-hell-did-you-just-call-it? It begins on the olfactory nerve and extends down into the sinus and/or up into my brain. The main reason why it took so long to analyze is that it's an extremely rare cancer. The cause is unknown, and there's less than a one out of a million chance of someone developing this type of cancer. It's also frequently misdiagnosed, but the folks at Yale ran more tests to make sure it was what it was. Because it's so rare, it has not been possible to do any control studies on the cancer to learn much more about it, especially the cause. I asserted that I contracted the cancer from a toilet seat, and until medical science proved otherwise, I would stand by my hypothesis. I offered to debate it with the doctor, but he said he had another patient. :P

For a while, my odds for survival were 50/50. I grew hopeful and began to think of the coffin as half empty, instead of half full...so to speak. More testing determined that my chances (of living) were closer to 80%. This was mainly because it had not extended into my brain. Finally, my main extraspecialist doctor said that the best treatment would be surgery, followed by radiation. If successful my odds for surivival would increase to 90+%. At this point, I only had one question, "What the hell do you mean, IF successful!?"

So the surgery was scheduled for August 16th. I got the first surgery of the day, not because I'm super important, but because the surgery is 12 hours long and apparently nobody likes working at 2am. There were three teams of surgeons working on me. The ENT doc from Yale and his people made up the main team. There was a neurological team that had to clear a path through my brain to the tumor. There was also an oral surgery team which had to remove the lower half of my skull to clear another path to the tumor. My skull was cut into three pieces. The first piece was the top part that protects the forehead. It was probably the size of a hand. The second piece is a bit difficult to describe. If you were to draw a line right underneath your nose that extended to your ears, everything below that was the second piece. In order to get there that had to make the incision in my mouth along my upper jaw where my lip meets my gums. The third piece is very easy to describe. It was everything else.

So I go into surgery, and 12 hours later, I come out sporting 30 stitches in my head, another 20 in my mouth, and at whopping total of 16 plates in my skull (give or take four). I spent three days in ICU and another five days in regular care. There were no complications except from the steroids (used to reduce the swelling from surgery), which caused me to have some hardcore hallucinations. Now, I had never tried acid, or shrooms, or any type of hallucinagens...and now I'll never want to.

So I was released from the hospital and continued to recover at home. At this point, I have almost completely recovered from the surgery. The stitches are out of my head, and my hair has begun to grow over the scar (they made the incision behind the hair line, it's like a head band and goes from ear to ear). The stitches in my mouth are dissolvable, and they are taking their time. While I still have a bit of discomfort, I can eat normally again, and it's all uphill from here. Finally, to look at me, you wouldn't even be able to tell I have a bunch of metal plates in my head. The swelling has receeded and I'm back to the same shade of ugly I was before the surgery. :P

I have only minor permanent damage from the surgery. First, I'm a bit more sensitive to light now. The surgery involved a bit of manipulation of the optic nerve (to get it out of the way). It could have been worse though, as there was a 20% chance that I would have gone blind. And it's a good thing that didn't happen, as then I'd have nothing to deter me from masturbating. They also had to remove the olfactory nerve that the tumor was on. Apparently, humans have two olfactory nerves, but my other one doesn't work so well. As a result, my sense of smell is pretty much shot. You may know that your sense of smell is linked to your sense of taste, so my sense of taste was also affected. Food tastes a little weird now, and I eat a fair bit less than I did before.

So today marks my 10th radiation treatment. I have another 20 to go, then I'm done. The treatments are every day, Monday to Friday, and about an hour and fifteen minute drive away. Luckily, I have plenty of friends and family to drive. I haven't had many side effects so far, just a bit of a fatigue, and a sore throat. The fatigue is from the radiation, and is expected. The sore throat is because my insurance doesn't cover radiation therapy so I have to pay for it in trade. Seriously though, the type of radiation I'm on involves this really focused beam of photons that they can bend in all kinds of ways. It can arc, angle, spiral, etc. This is a very handy technique, as if they were to blast me in a straight line, the beam would extend through my brain and out the back of my head. As much fun as being brain damaged seems, my doctors thought it would be a better idea to bend the beam and have it come out the back of my neck, missing my brain, optical nerve, spinal cord, and all the other things that seperate us from...you know...them. They said that I could have some (likely temporary) hair loss in the back of my head where the beam is exiting, to which I replied, "Well if that's the case, can you bend the beam so it comes out my ass?" Might as well kill two birds with one photon, right?

So that's where I am now. I spend my afternoons in New Haven getting zapped, and my mornings and evenings bumming around home recouperating. Now and again, I have the energy to go out, but for the most part, the social life is pretty much on hold until I'm done radiation. After the next 20 treatments, I'm done. I get an extra check up and MRI once a year, but other than that my life is normal. So that's why this isn't a blog all about cancer. I'm going to be fine. Unlike so many other people I've seen since the beginning of this, I have it easy. So I can't smell as well anymore? There's a chance I might get it back, and if not, oh well. Half the things I smell are things that I wish I hadn't smelled (or smelt...or smelted?). So I had to have a major surgery and radiation? Big deal, I've survived, and hardly any worse for the wear. My fight with cancer is like Mike Tyson fighting a toddler. I win. That's all there is to it.

Fin.

The thin line between love and hate...

2005-10-02T21:09:00.000-04:00

I've had my blog up less than a week and I've already received my first hate email. I haven't even brought in the hookers and drag queens yet! Sweet...

Apparently, Sue Ann Campbell doesn't like my attitude toward getting up in the morning, nor my attitude toward spending less time at a job I don't really need in favor of more free time.

Check out her blog at http://50isnotmiddleage.blogspot.com/ where you can read her thrillingly sophmoric opinions on homeowners insurance, "politics", and dust.

Heh...heh... :D

Because he deserved it!

2005-10-02T14:28:00.000-04:00

What the hell is up with the spambots on this site? I've deleted a half a dozen "comments" yesterday from people trying to sell me crap. It would be nice if they could be reported to blogspot so their accounts could be revoked. Then again, they're bots, they'll just come back. This makes me wonder who the dumbass was that invented spam. What marketing genius said, "I know! I'll flood everyone's email, IMs, and blogs with ads for crap that 99.9999% of them don't want!" Trust me, if I wanted to enlarge my penis, or breasts, or refinance my home at a low-Low-LOW interest rate, or find a new all-natural herbal suppliment that would let me lose 50lbs. in just 3 days, or learn VisualBasic, or make $100,000 a year with no-money-down real estate, I'll find it on my own. I don't need it offered to me every other day.

So I was late to work today. I have a weekend job in administration at a nursing home. It's a great job for a professor, as there's never any actual work to do, it's just that someone has to be here. When I'm teaching, I use the time to work on lesson plans, but because I'm not teaching again until January (medical leave, obviously), I'm generally pretty bored. I've been tempted to cut back my hours. One of the shifts I work is 8-3, every other Sunday. I'm really not a morning person. One of the reasons why I stopped teaching middle school is because I didn't want to get up at six in the morning. Furthermore, if I have to work at eight, I can't really go out the night before. Well, I probably could, but I hate pulling all-nighters. The last time I did that, I was in grad school and had a 20-page paper on Durkheim's division of labor and transition from mechanical to organic solidarity during the European industrial revolution...or something like that...due the next morning. The paper might have gone smoother if I had actually read the book, but I was feeling kind of whimsical (and drunk), so I decided to just wing it (got a B). Normally, I'd like to think that I'm not so academically irresponsible, but classical theory has virtually nothing to do with my focus area so...bleh.

Back to the point, I did the math. If I ditch the shift, I'd lose about $120 a month. That's my school loan repayment and cell bill right there. Considering this is pretty much my only income until January, tossing it would probably be a bad idea. I don't mean to winge on about it, I actually have a pretty good deal. Even when I'm teaching, I work less than 20 hours a week (including this job), can sleep in as late as I want (except every other Sunday), and have full freedom in the classroom (unlike the middle school).

The main reason why I want to ditch the shift is so I can go out more. I've been thinking of meeting new friends...people who don't feel the need to be in bed by 10:00, or don't just bum around and watch the hot rod channel. As soon as I'm done with radiation, I want to get together with April and the friends with whom we went to the Electric Blue (Chris and Wanda), and go to that drag queen review. I'll definitely have to bring a digicam to that.

Definitely not an exciting entry today, but its been a slow weekend. I know, I'll end with this story, which I've always meant to write down, just to see what it looks like on paper (or screen):

So we have a friend we call Dewey. We call him this because of all the DUIs he's been busted for. At the time when his drinking was at its worst, a bunch of us were regularly hanging out at Bumpers, a bar/pool hall. A few other "characters" to note are Nick, Sysco, Sean, and Monica. Nick was Dewey's best friend, Sean was one of my friends, I don't know much about Sysco, and Monica was just some barfly who regularly alternated between being married and divorced to her husband. So, one night, Nick and Monica hooked up. The next night (or so later), Dewey and Monica hook up. Right after that, Nick and Dewey hook up with Monica. Following that, Nick, Dewey, and Sysco hook up with Monica. Apparently, they had a little tag team kind of arrangement. But the story is what happens shortly after that, when Nick, Dewey and Monica get together for a second time. We didn't hear about this until a few days later, when Dewey was drunk and the crew (minus Nick and a few others) was at Denny's.

Sean, being the instigator he is, "innocently" asks, "So, how are things with you and Monica...and Nick.........and Sysco?"

Dewey is totally smashed and just blurts out in the middle of Denny's, "I fucked Nick in the ass!!!"

We've all known each other for quite a while. If anyone was gay, they would have come out and the rest of us would be cool about it. Dewey wasn't gay, and neither was Nick. Needless to say, Sean was caught off guard.

"Wha....why?" Sean asked, looking utterly confused.

Dewey, barely able to keep his head up, points to Sean and slurs firmly, "Because...he deserved it!"

By this point, people in other booths were just staring, most of them just shocked (some of us were, too). And yet, we still didn't get kicked out.

Blue Moon

2005-10-01T22:57:00.000-04:00

Now that I have a blog, I think I'm going to get a digital camera. The reason is because stories like the following one would have so much more depth if there were pictures included.

Before my surgery, I wanted to have one last night out because I knew I would be laid up for a while. I wanted to do something fun and entertaining, something that I haven't done before. I called my friend April, who called a couple of her friends, and we had two options for the evening. First, we could have gone to a gay bar a few towns over. They were having a drag queen review, which I've heard is a great show if you're into music (and I am). The other option was the Electric Blue.

The Electric Blue is a special place. Not a special place like Disneyworld, but a special place like Chernobyl. One might call it a strip club, if one had too much to drink, was hopped up on E, and was just released from prison. The Electric Blue is like the car accident on the side of the road at which you can't help but look. I knew all this going in, however, my reason for going was far from sexual. Simply put, I am (well, was, after this experience) morbidly curious because this place is considered (by the locals) to be the skaggiest, skeeziest, most gonorrhea-liscious establishment known to New England. And just because I've never been to a place that is held in such low regard, I had to see it.

Now, I've been to strip clubs before. Actually, I've been to a strip club before. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't something worth repeating. Maybe a story for another time. Basically, I'm just not the strip-club kind of guy, but remember...Chernobyl...car accident...I figured this would be something different, and it was.

First of all, it was just topless, not full nude. Don't get me wrong, in this case it was a good thing. It was also very dark, much darker than the other strip club. This was also a good thing. The stage looked like it was soon to be condemned. It was composed of mongrel slabs of plywood, with a lacquered top for the actual stage. There weren't any strobes or colored lights, or anything to work with the music. The music was also terrible, and some of the songs were just wrong. One of the songs they played was "Lean on Me". What the hell? Though I have to admit, it was strangely appropriate when the DJ put on "Who Let the Dogs Out?"

Then there were the actual strippers/dancers, though I use these terms loosely. First, there were no costumes. There was no naughty nurse, nor strict police officer, nor coy Catholic school girl. Nada. All the girls came out in just their g-strings and that's it. Color me crazy, but part of being a stripper is starting with some kind of outfit, and then...well...stripping. Next, there was no dancing. A girl would walk out on the stage, make a few poses, then start going around the stage making a few more poses in front of anyone who put out a dollar. The were no pole acrobatics or anything. I was pretty surprised to see the girls half-assing it (no pun intended), considering that most of them were jacked up on coke or meth. A few of them even came out with a bit of sparkle under their noses, and I'm sure it wasn't glitter.

Of course, the girls weren't much to look at. One of the things about meth and coke is that it turns you into a skeleton and doesn't help your looks any. I remember one girl in particular that looked like she could star in the next Tim Burton movie. In general, the girls looked sick and diseased, and the eyes...*shudder*...that Chernobyl analogy is feeling a little more real. A couple of the women even had sores...apparently they forgot to pick up their Valtrex that month. Out of the dozen or so women who hit the stage that night, not a single one would fall under the category of "attractive" or even "maybe after a few beers".

Looking around, I noticed some of the other people were actually enjoying this. Meanwile, April and I were cracking jokes with our two new friends the whole time. We didn't stay long. After all, how long do you really need to stare at a car wreck?

How did I get here?

2005-09-30T23:42:00.000-04:00

Ok, so it's Friday night, and here I am blogging.

I have a problem with this.

It's not because I spent the last six weeks between being bedridden and hospitalized, and now that I'm healthier I want to get out. It's not because my friends all have better things to do than to go out (they don't), nor do any of them have to work tomorrow. It's because this is how it's been for quite a while now. Nobody goes out anymore, everyone stays at home and just bums around.

I can't express how disappointing this is. See, back in the day (the "day" being only a few years ago), life was not like this. Long story short, most of us would take turns getting evicted for throwing parties. Two of my friends were evicted by their own grandparents because of the fun we would have. The bonfire parties were the greatest, as they tended to have the biggest turnout. We weren't pyromaniacs or anything, but it just seemed natural to have a 30' high bonfire after tapping a few kegs. Lining up shots of liquid cocaine, or playing rounds of tequila pong was just icing on the cake.

And this was only Wednesday...

It wasn't just the parties, though. We'd hang out for a while at the poolhall, and then go to Denny's to see if we could get kicked out (which surprisingly never happened, even when a friend of mine decided to do a little firebreathing act in the middle of the diner). The fact is, we had fun, and when there was no fun to be had, we made our own fun. But now, it's like pulling teeth to get any one of them to go out, and impossible to get everyone together.

I'll give them this; some of them have more responsibilities now (marriage and children). Even still, the ones that are married have great parents who would love to take care of the kids for a weekend once in a while. One of them blew off going out once because he wanted to spend "quality time with his daughter". What this equated to was putting her in a crib with a bunch of Fisher Price toys while he watched the hot rod channel.

To put it blunt, they have no excuse. They don't do anything. They just sit around in front of the TV and watch some lame sitcom, prime-time drama, or the damn hot rod channel. This is probably why I hate TV. When it interferes with actual life, then it's a problem. I think the reason it's getting to me is that my last friend who would actually still go out on the weekend is starting to punk out.

I'm not saying that I'm looking for a couple of days of massive bonfires, two story beer bongs and tequila pong. I would settle for having everyone at a nice little barbecue, and just hang out...like back in the day. We used to have mellow days like that...like on a Monday. I've been pushing for it since April, but it seems like nobody can be bothered. Frankly, they're all acting like our parents, and it's depressing. It's even more depressing that out of the lot of us, I'm essentially the oldest, and I'm only 26.

Looking for love in all the wrong places...

2005-09-30T09:46:00.000-04:00

Now, I didn't have a blog back in August of 2001. I wish I did, because there was something I needed to get off my chest. So for this post, I'm going to pretend it's August of 2001. Feel free to join me.

Just to give you a little insight as to what was happening at the time, I had just moved to Niagara Falls to start my M.A. The landlord of the place I was moving to wasn't going to have my apartment ready until September, but it wasn't too big of a deal as she worked for a development company that owned a bunch of other properties where they could put me up temporarily. The place they put me up in was just a dump. I wasn't too surprised, considering all their properties were garbage, but I was a poor grad student so I couldn't be picky. Even the place I was moving to in September was this slummy renovated battery factory. The place they had me in August used to be a cheap motel, like the kind of place that would charge by the hour. The development company didn't put much into the renovation.

Long story short, I was living in a craphole. That's not what this story is about though. I came to know a bit about my neighbors in the short time I was there. Many of them were retired senior citizens, living on a fixed income and being screwed by Social Security and Medicare. Others were divorcees (mainly men) who were apparently decimated in the settlement. The rest were, to be blunt, junkies*. Needless to say, the cast of the next reality dating/marriage show would not be found there (unless the show was being aired on FOX). And this is what the story is about.

One day, when checking my mail, I noticed a thick envelope on top of the row of mailboxes. I had been expecting some textbooks and paperwork, so I checked it out. It wasn't for me, but for one of my neighbors. It was a rather non-descript envelope that just had my neighbor's address and www.aforeignaffair.com as a return address.

Naturally, I was curious.

I jumped on the net, punched in the address, and what do I find? A website for mail-order brides. Ok, so they say that they "are not a mail-order bride company", and that they merely coordinate invitation-only socials for international singles. It just so happens that their procedures get around all those pesky INS laws and regulations about marrying just for citizenship. Just to be clear, I don't have a problem with people who aren't Americans. Most of my family immigrated here. I also don't have a problem with people who want to be Americans. There are worse places in the world to be living right now.

To be honest, I'm sure what my problem is, or even if I have a problem. Is it because some scumbag is thinking, "I'll get some hot foreign chick to do my dishes, laundry, and who knows what else?" Perhaps. Then again, if you see the profiles, all of these women apparently are looking for "some sweet guy to start a family with and be happy for a long time". Color me cynical, but I have to wonder how many of these women would file for divorce after two years when they have gained permanent citizenship. Maybe I take marriage too seriously, but I hardly see this as a basis for a stable relationship.

In this particular case, I do think I feel a little bad for whatever foreign woman (if any) gets stuck with this guy. For someone expecting a new life in the land of opportunity, moving to a craphole in Buffalo with some junkie on welfare, or bitter divorcee who barely owns the clothes on his back, or 90-year-old man who needs someone to change his diapers...this girl is getting a lateral transition, at best.

* (If someone is reading this who isn't me) Granted, it's not very fair to just look at someone and say, "Hey, that person is a junkie!" It's even worse when you say it aloud...to their face...in front of their children. But after growing up across the street from a couple crackhouses in a place the locals call Frogtown (which was featured on 60 Minutes for its rampant heroin problem), I don't need a piss test to peg a crackhead/smackhead/etc.

In the beginning...

2005-09-30T00:31:00.000-04:00

I suck at beginnings. Seriously, I'm just terrible. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty good with middles, and can hold my own with ends, but beginnings are something else. Maybe there is too much pressure with beginnings, although I'm good under pressure. I have cancer. I spent a month under the impression that I was going to die. I am not saying that for sympathy, and this is not some cancer-survivor blog, I am just trying to spice up my beginning. Also, I am not going to die...I was just under the impression...

This isn't a cancer blog. I am sure they help some people deal with the emotional rollercoaster of a major disease or whatever (no offense to them), but bitching about my problems never solved any of them. Besides, like I said, I am not dying. The way I figure it, if anyone is reading this, which I doubt, it is quite likely that you don't have cancer, so why marsh your mellow?

So why did I start a blog? Well, one the downsides to cancer is having a whole lot of free time. I pretty much am out of work until January while I finish my radiation treatment and recovering from a major surgery I had about six weeks ago. Life is pretty boring when you're homebound and don't watch much TV. So, if you have seen Cast Away, this Blog is like my own "Wilson". If you haven't seen Cast Away, well, neither have I so don't beat yourself up over it. At the very least, this Blog will keep my idle hands from looking up naked pictures of Anna Kornikova.

So yeah, I suck at beginnings.