Al Jolson Lives On

The 4th of July is this weekend. I happened to find this out when my Dad called me up to tell me that he is off work on Friday and that he and Mom will becoming down the weekend. This was not a question it was a statement. I asked "Why?" To see the fireworks. What fireworks? The 4th of July. When? This weekend. Well alright then.

Then I called Mom. This is because Dad does not have any say in anything. Mom wears the pants, so unless she says they're coming they aren't coming. Mom confirmed they were coming and that I needed to come up with fun things to do. I told her I would, but Mom of course already had the entire weekend planned out. "You need to figure out what we're going to do." Alright, I'll think of something. There's putt-putt. Alright. Swimming. Fine fine. Tennis and racquet ball. Yes. Church at 5. Of course. Dinner. Dad does need to eat. Fireworks. If we must. Movies. That's what the TV is for. We need popcorn and butter. Just as my heart needs a beat.

Then my sister texts (I hate texts) and lets me know she's coming too. And Mom again confirmed that they are picking her up on the way.

Dad, Mom and Orca are all pretty excited. But that's natural. Seeing me is a big deal. And then the next day Dad calls. "Would you be mad if Mom and I went to San Francisco instead?" No. Do you want to know why we are going to be there? Business? There's a 2006 fully-loaded Highlander we want. In San Francisco? Yes. California? That's correct. You're going to California to get a Highlander? Maybe. We'll know on Wednesday. Why? Have you seen the Highlander? You are never going to retire. Probably not, but this will be Mom's retirement vehicle (mind you Dad just got an Acura as though they need two retirement vehicles) and we'll sell her van. The Highlander should last us 10 years. Put Mom on the phone. Mom are you getting a Highlander? Have you seen it? You're just like him. I just don't want to do the trip home. What about the trip there? Oh we'll fly for that. But can you imagine driving home with him for 3 days straight? I think we should just ship it in a truck and fly back. So you're serious about this then? Well it is a nice vehicle.

The thing is, that actually sounds like a lot of fun. I want to go on an adventure.

Not an Indian Stone

There is not a whole lot to say about Normal Illinois. It is a small town near Bloomington and I have only ever had two occasions to go there. The first was around 5 years ago or so during Halloween. That was probably the best undergrad night I had. The second time I went was today because I needed to pick up a new toy, the Adobe CS4 Master Collection! If you don't know Adobe makes Photoshop, Flash and a bunch of other fantastic products which help out with all sorts of art applications and web design. The problem is that these products are very expensive. This creative suite, which is the complete unabridged Adobe product line is $1000 for the student version. But today I was able to get it for $275.

I found a lady selling it on Craigslist. She had bought the PC version and she needed the MAC version. Even though she had not taken it out of the shrink wrap, because she had taken it out of the cardboard box it was shipped in Adobe would not allow her to return it. So she had to spend another $1000 on the MAC version and was left with the unusable PC version. And she couldn't find a buyer because most people download it illegally nowadays. But I have been trying to do everything legally as of late and got to get this fantastic deal.

Interestingly, $1000 is actually very cheap for software. At work a customer just paid me $18,000 to add a feature to one of our programs that the customer uses. Think about that. $18,000 not for the program, just for an additional feature. Of course I don't get to pocket anywhere near that full amount, but I know when I first found out about how much these things cost to develop it came as a shock.

Anyway, now that I have this suite, hopefully I'll be able to get this blog page looking good. I don't know yet if I'll be able to get any flash on here since I have no way of storing the files. I could host them on another site and link to them from here, but that sort of defeats the purpose of having this site. But with Photoshop and Dreamweaver I should be able to make a more interesting template, or at least improve the background. I'm so excited!

Malts

Maintaining weight is a tricky affair when you have a high metabolism. It is fantastic in that you can eat whatever you want when you want, but it is terrible in that putting on weight requires huge amounts of food. One of my current goals is to increase my muscle mass to the point where my arms can actually fill the sleeve on a small-sized t-shirt. If we go with the European system of meaure I am almost there. By the American standard, I have a long ways to go yet. To help speed up this process I have been using protein powder and other supplements such as Steak and Shake milkshakes.

Last Sunday and today I stopped by the local Steak and Shake to grab one. Now, last Sunday there was a cute girl at the window who took my order and handed me the shake.

Today I went back, I wanted to get another shake, and she was the one who took my order again. I decided to ask her out to dinner. The trouble was she is a Steak and Shake employee. My problem was that I figured she was probably younger than older to be working there. But still possibly old enough. She looked somewhat older, but I didn't want to be a complete freak asking out a 16 year old who looked older because of makeup. So when I pulled around to pay I asked "Do you mind my asking how old you are?" She just stood there looking at me for awhile and then said "20". I told her "Oh, never mind then" and she sort of smiled standing there for awhile more and then said alright and went to get my drink. A second later a guy came out with it. I laughed and said "Have a good night" he was chuckling too and said "You too". And when he went back in I could hear lots of laughter in the background. Like I said yesterday, I was overdue for a little humility. I didn't mind though. I don't think anything was wrong in that. For one, I know several sensational people who have worked at these types of restaurants through college summers. The greatest being me of course. So she may well have been slightly older. Secondly, regardless of who is doing the asking, it should be flattering to get asked out or even inquired about. Which means I may have paid her a nice compliment and thereby did my good deed for the day. Thirdly, I think it's a good character builder. We live in this silly society of virtual relationships (take this blog for example), such that a lot of people can no longer go up to friendly strangers and start talking. I tend to be the shy type, so doing this is good for me.

The shake was also very tasty.

Fake Muscles

A bookworm's tan can be likened to a farmer's tan. A farmer's tan results from a person wearing a short sleeved shirt in the sun so often that when he takes off his shirt there is a negative effect on his skin and you can see the out line of the shirt. A bookworm's tan uses similar principles and is what I am currently sporting. This tan is accomplished by reading out in the sun in a lounged position. In a lounged position the person is sitting upright but at an obtuse angle with respect to the ground. The result of this is that the stomach is in a crunched position but only just so, and after several hours a razor thin tan line results. If the person sits at 90 degrees or less (hunchbacked I suppose), that crunch becomes more enveloping so instead of a razor thin line you'd end up with a bar of white. The best part of having the bookworm tan is that those razor thin lines occur at exactly the same location as the lines of a 6 pack. So by being a nerd in the sun, I can go around looking like I have a sweet 6 pack. This is fantastic.

Today I was at the club house with my book lounging by the pool. It was a little early in the day so there were not too many people around. After about 15 minutes a girl came who I hadn't seen before, and she sat in such a fashion that I could only see her bottom half. I don't want to take the time to explain how this occurred but it has to do with the layout of the land so just go along with me. Now from what I could tell she had lovely legs and I was intrigued. I figured it had been about a week since I had last been completely humiliated and that it was about time to be again. That and as gripping as De Trinitate may be, it just doesn't have the same attention grabbing effect as a nice pair of legs.

About 25 minutes later my Mom called, and I decided to milk the opportunity. I used her phone call as an excuse to try and laugh slightly louder than a typical person for two reasons. First to draw some attention to myself and secondly to point out that I have a good sense of humor. Yes, I know the girl couldn't actually see me either but she would have been blind not to have seen me sitting there when she came in. So she could have inferred it was me laughing just by the sound. However, I suppose it is possible she didn't know I was there as I have had a friend in the past come in and sit right next to me in an empty room and have no idea I was even there until I spoke up.

After the call I decided to jump in the water. In the three summers I've spent here, I've never jumped in the water before. I've never had a reason to before. When you're by yourself at the pool there's not a lot of playing around to do. But this time I had a good reason, which was to do a lap or two to show to the girl that I was in shape. In reality I couldn't be much more out of shape, however years of swimming lessons were not lost on me and I can fake a lot just by having good technique.

Then I was ready to make my move. My move was to go up to her on my way out and ask her if she'd like to join me for lunch or drinks at the club house. So I got my things together and started to walk past her on my way out. And then I saw her upper half. Sigh. I was not impressed. That and she didn't even look at me as I walked by. If she would have at least looked in my direction I would have said "Hello", but she was looking at something else. Oh well, at least it wasn't all a loss. My bookworm tan is looking incredible.

Angelica Houston in 3D

Today is an appropriate day for another music related post. Growing up I was extremely fortunate in that I got to go to Disney World all the time. I remember back when I was somewhere between 2 and 4, before we moved to Podunk, and my Mom was counting down the days with me for the first time I was going to go, although that was to Disney Land in California but it's close enough. I even have a faint memory of the plane ride.

Epcot is typically my favorite of the parks. The Magic Kingdom is great for the Disney Characters, but I always like seeing all the countries at Epcot. And I will always remember seeing Captain EO in 3D. It was so cool. At the beginning you were flying through space and they ran into a meteor shower, and it looked like they were going to crash into you. And at the end there was this spider lady who terrified me, but I quickly learned that if I took off the glasses she would become a blurry mess. I even remember standing in line to go on that "ride" the second time because I so excited.

My point is that Michael Jackson rocked, and his death is so sad. I was really looking forward to seeing his new concerts in London.

Music is important. I think everyone should be able to play an instrument. It's just something everyone should know, even if it's nothing more than banging out a scale. And nowadays there are free lessons all over the internet, and books at libraries. My favorite instruments are the piano, guitar, and harmonica. But I only play the piano. I'm trying to learn the guitar but I'm not as consistent with it as I should be. Harmonicas are cool because of the great sounding blues they can produce.

Today I thought I'd change things up a bit, and post a video. For now I wanted to keep it simple since this is my first video and I wasn't sure how to set everything up right, both in terms of filming and in getting it online. I'm just using my digital camera here so it's nothing amazing, but it's still a lot of fun seeing myself on the bigscreen.

This is also on YouTube. I thought I was going to have to go through there to get it posted here, but apparently I was wrong. If this works, I'm really impressed that Blogger lets the user upload to its databases, because the limit appears to not be with the quantity of videos but rather to the individual size (100 MB). If you'd like to see this on YouTube, you can find me here:

www.youtube.com/user/reggyro

Enthused x3

It is extraordinarily rare for a girl to approach me. Although I'd be bashful around me too. When girls approach guys I find there are two methods they use. There's the casual flirt type approach to let the guy know you're interested and then there's the flat out ask him route. The former is how all girls should work. If you see a stud you like then let him know by batting your eyes or whatever it is you girls do. But leave it to the guy to actually ask you out. This isn't the Sadie Hawkins dance. Which I might add I still had to ask out the girls too.

Now, online meetings are a little different but not much. Girls, online it's totally fine to favorite start up a conversation with a 'Hi' or use whatever tools these messengers or services have to grab someones attention. But let the guy send out that first e-mail or start the first conversation. That's just the way these things work from a natural level. Males are initiative (need a better word) creatures and girls are receptive creatures. This goes from the physcological level down to the gamete level.

Yesterday, a girl did not follow the nature order. I got an e-mail from a girl who wanted to talk to me through one of those online instant messengers. The e-mail was very nice, and was not spam, it was genuine. Here's my favorite part from it:

I absolutely think you are soooo cute!!!:):):) Sorry, but just being honest!!:):) You look like either a model or someone famous, like some actor off of tv or the movies!!:):) "

This is definitely the way to get my attention. Flattery will take you very far. Especially when it's spot on. Actually, I keep getting told that I look like the guy from "Shakespeare in Love" from all sorts of people, but I have neither seen this movie nor intend to so I don't know for sure. In any event, the e-mail I got was very nice. But there were some problems.

First and foremost, I hate all forms of texting. If you get a text from me, cherish it, because I hate it. The only thing I hate more is voice messaging people (see Flap in Front or Back). And this girl sent me two e-mails asking if I'd like to converse with her through texting. That's no fault of hers, but it automatically deducted 5000 points from her score. So right off the bat she's at -5000. Next up, I'm not a fan of extra punctuation or emoticons. Clearly, from that little clip of e-mail, shes a very excited, happy person. But at 28 years, we should know better ways to express our enthusiasm. It's a little confusing too. Two of those three sentences end with a '!!:):)' Maybe I should treat those as a regular sentence. I guess that would make the triple !!!:):):) equivalent to a regular '!' But I do not mean this as a critique. I cannot blame a girl for getting so worked up over my stellar bod. It happens.

So I got this nice e-mail. And honestly, despite those problems with it, this girl seemed genuine, clearly interested, and very sweet. But I was not interested. And since it makes me sad when people don't respond to my e-mails or calls, I felt a need to respond to this one. That whole do unto others mentality. This was extremely difficult to do though. I'm working on being honest but in a charitable way. A few years ago I worked on just being charitable. "No, you don't look fat in that dress." That got me in a heap of trouble. So then I went straight to honesty, "Yes, you look like a lardo in that dress." But that too got me in trouble. Which now has me on the nice honesty route. "I do not feel that dress is doing you any favors."

In the case of this e-mail I brought up two main points. First she wasn't nearby so I could play the long distance card. It's not that I'm against long distance - I've tried very hard to make long distance friendships work after all (and all have failed miserably) - but I've got to be mighty interested in the person to be motivated to put forth the effort. Had both the profile been better, and she had been around an upper 8 then I would have tried it out. But they weren't so I'm not. Second I tried to say that while her profile and e-mails make her sound very nice, I did not personally feel we would make a good match. Just different personalities. And that's true too. There were little things here and there that put me a bit off. The problem with the charitable honesty route is that it is really just a 'wishy-washy' sounding no. There's too much room for the person to write back. For example, a firm, 'you type like a middle-school girl at a Jonas Brothers concert', would definitely make my feelings clear. So the trick becomes making that nicer route just as firm. Hopefully my own e-mail accomplished this.

I'm reading St. Augustine's Trinity, and am having a ball with it, because back then the writers took the firm honesty approach. They couldn't have cared less about feelings. All they had any concern for was the truth. In fact, in Photios' Mystagogy, the publisher has a note at the beginning asking the reader to keep in mind that this book was written in a much different time when this type of writing and conversing was how everyone behaved and that we musn't think it mean or offensive. Augstine uses language like "I cannot fathom how anyone could be so radically insanse as to take that position." Photios will say things like "They have not reached the understanding of even a small child." And both of these are saints! I'm not necessarily saying we should go back to that way of expressing ourselves, as much as I am saying today's world is very different.

Giggle Inducing Acts

My family is very competitive. To the point where we do not have family game nights because we all hate to lose so much. I always thought the concept of a game night would be fun, after all the few times my family does try it we occasionally smile, even if it's only when showing the others how they just lost. So it's not very often where I get to experience playing games with large groups of people, but I like to very much. And maybe due to my competitive nature it was in my good fortune that one of the first large game nights I had recently was with a group of nuns.

Nuns are fantastic. They love to be motherly and I love to be mothered. They're always making good food, and always seem to know which girls are single and looking. They make sure you are eating right, getting enough sleep, keeping up with work, exercising and relaxing.

Every now and then a group of nuns from another city comes to visit their other sisters here in town and when they do they have a game night for anyone who wants to come. Because they make you dinner, and the attendance is pretty much all single girls who are mostly my age, I don't miss these for anything. Sadly most of these nuns are quite old. The youngest is in her thirties and after that I doubt anyone was younger than 60 or 65. But they are very high spirited, and certainly don't act it. They need more, but only the 1 - 4's please (see Mushroom Cake). I don't want them taking my prospects. The last time I went they decided to play 'Scattergories'. Or at least I think that's the name. It's where you're given a word and you have to act it out and the people on your team have to guess it real quick before the timer runs out. And you're supposed to keep passing the timer so someone always ends up with it when it goes off.

After a few turns I was given the word 'tickle'. I thought this was an easy one. All I had to do was act it out, and since you can't tickle yourself I reached over to the nun on my left and tickled her stomach. Everyone gasped, but because I'm too competitive I didn't register what the gasps meant, so after waiting for a second for someone to guess I did it again. Just dead quiet. And the timer went off. Everyone was staring at me, and I was mad. No one guessed it. So I yelled at them 'Come on people, the word was 'tickle' how could you not understand what I was doing?' Then it dawned on me. Fortunately, when I said the word was 'tickle' everyone burst out laughing. And one of the nuns said, 'you mustn't tickle Mother Superior.' But she was laughing too and said "there's no sin in that". But then she added 'how on earth were we supposed to know what this (and she tried to tickle me) meant?' I said "I thought it was completely obvious, it's the sign for tickling". Then another nun piped up and said "that's not what it looked like you were doing." "Well sister, you need to get your mind out of the gutter."

Chatter Enabled

I was playing around with my settings and saw that I had restrictions on the comments. So if you'd like to say something and weren't able to do so before, now you should be able to gab away. Okay, that's all. Right now I'm having difficulties deciding between either watching the timeless classic 'Bloodsport' or continuing with my reading of Augustine's Trinity. I like to keep things balanced.

Sweet Tooth

Last night I had one of my nightmares. When I get stressed I typically have three courses of action. The first course of action is to deal with it. When it can't be dealt with then it gets bottled up and pushed down where it sits, festers, and turns into a heart attack which I'll deal with later. If that too does not work then I turn to huge amounts of sugar. Today I had to turn to the sugar. In particular there are three products that I find work the best. The first two are Mountain Dew and Diet Coke. Diet Coke because it's the sweetest of them. The third is chocolate candy.

Today I decided to make some chocolate candy. I had a bunch of sweet chocolate wafers and blueberries and I thought chocolate covered blueberries would be good. On my way home from work I also picked up some cherries. Now when got home I put half my chocolate in a pot and turn on the heat to about 4. Then I went at the cherries which I had to pit. This resulted in a small fiasco. While I was pitting the cherries, I wasn't paying enough attention to the chocolate which I should have been stirring. Because I just let it sit there the bottom melted much faster than the top and started burning. I decided chocolate is chocolate and just stirred it up and mixed the burnt with the good rather than to throw it all out. But when I finished stirring I had this butter knife covered in chocolate. I then had the brilliant idea of pretending I was a sword swallower because I wanted to lick off the chocolate. And as I put that chocolate covered knife in my mouth and clamped down I learned a lesson. Melted chocolate is brown lava. My whole mouth is a giant blister now.

After I finished up with the cherries I moved on to the blueberries. This time I decided to try and melt the chocolate in the microwave. I put the remaining chocolate in a bowl and stuck it in the microwave for 1 minute. After it finished I looked in and saw the chocolate hadn't melted. But I thought maybe it was really soft and I could stir it up. So I reached in to grab the bowl which I found to be hotter than the sun, and I burnt my hand. Finally I got that bowl out and found it was hot enough to melt the chocolate and it turned out really good.

Ultimately I found the whole process to be incredibly successful. I made the chocolate covered cherries and blueberries to relieve some stress and it worked. Now instead of focusing on my bad dream, I have a blistered mouth and burnt hand keeping my attention. And in case you're curious, my candy did turn out to be sensational in the end.

Unofficial

Last Lent there was a 247 silent protest at the local abortion clinic on campus. Unofficial St. Patrick's day happened to fall on one of the Fridays. If you don't know Unofficial is a Friday when students ditch class and spend the entire day drinking. I was on my work to at 8 and they had already started. So I thought whomever was at the clinic that night might want a little company and I went out around 9. Two things. First I don't like leaving my apartment after 8. It's fine if I'm already out, but I don't like leaving after it. Secondly I had been watching Harry Potter 4 and didn't get to finish it, so I was not very happy. I hope you appreciate my sacrifice. Anyway, I get there and there are 2 protesters and another guy. The other guy was a bit tipsy and was trying to make logical arguments for subjectivism. I have no patience for that line of thought and even though I hadn't been there two seconds and didn't know the guy I couldn't keep quiet (it's hard for me remember). "Hey man, there is no right and wrong it's all based on your perception." "No, there is a right and wrong, things are black and white, there is no gray." "Oh there definitely is gray, what's right for you might not be right for me." "No, for example, I'm right and you're wrong. It's quite simple" "I don't think we are ever going to agree." "Well stop being wrong and then you'd be right and we'd agree." After that he stood around for awhile then walked off. But this post isn't about abortion. After he left, so did one of the protesters, so it was just me and the other guy who I happened to have seen around before. I asked him where all his friends were (he's pretty well known) and he said they all had other plans. I told him he needed new friends if they thought it would be alright to leave him alone out here.

You see, it was like nothing I had ever experienced before being out there. Complete strangers, most drunk, were coming up and screaming the worst things at us (I should have brought a notebook some were quite creative), and others were shouting at us to fight. I remember when I first got there we were standing in a line that required people to walk behind us to stay on the sidewalk, and I asked that we move back so that people had to walk in front of us. I had a serious concern about being chived in the back. Before I left my apartment, I could not have imagined complete strangers treating others so terribly. All we were doing was standing there with some signs. Even I was smart enough to keep quiet for once. Most of what they said was stupid stuff, but there was one comment that hit a little too close to home and really hurt. Then I got to thinking, these strangers have no idea how terrible they are behaving. In fact to them they think they are behaving correctly. But I could see nothing but ugliness. It was so bad you couldn't get upset at them, instead the instinctual response was to pray for them. I likened it to meeting a demon face-to-face. You're not going to fight and provoke it, and you're either too scared or brave to run, all you can do is silently stand there and pray. Faith doesn't exist, if you see a demon from below you know just as well there is something above. And the feeling is so strong, this need for prayer, that all emotion goes out the window. Your whole effort is being put into making sure that someone up there is listening, because this ugliness you are seeing goes beyond just typical meanness. It really was like these people were possessed. As I stood there praying for them I got to thinking about how they felt they were behaving fine. And then I thought about myself and all of sudden I stopped praying for them and started praying for myself.

These people thought they were behaving fine but I could see more starkly than ever before how horrifying they really were acting. And I thought, "is this how people see me when I am messing up?" Being sensational is different than perfect. I have my vices and while I have difficulty seeing them as being all that bad, the idea that from the outside looking in people see in me what I was seeing that night brought me to tears. Never in my life had I been more sorry for my sins than I had been right then.

Eventually another protester came and I left, it was way past my bedtime by that point. But I could not have imagined being out there alone. That guy who would have been alone probably has the biggest pair of anyone I've ever known. Although interestingly I want to add that during the time we said two Rosaries and a Divine Chaplet. And during those times the furious crowds did not come, and things were relatively quiet. We had a few cars slow down and look at our signs, and some people far off making some shouts at us but that was it.

It is a poverty to decide a child must die so that you may live as you wish. -Mother Teresa

Flap In Front Or Back

I had a pretty good scare at the office the other day. On my way to the bathroom I passed by a co-worker whom I said 'Howdy' as a greeting. But then I started thinking about how the 'Howdy' sounded. See, I hate the sound of my voice. To me it sounds happy and clear, but when I hear it on a recording the way every one else hears it, it sounds angry and mumbly. I don't know how people understand me let alone why they would talk to me, at best I sound whiny and nasally. At worst I sound like the rumblings of death itself. Sometimes I'll record myself purposely trying to sound upbeat, and it still comes out monotone and depressed. This is also why I do not leave voice messages. I want no possibility of my voice having a permanent record. And since I hate texting, either pick up when I call or miss out. So these things were on my mind as I headed into the bathroom. Once I got in there I started trying different inflections on 'Howdy', trying to find a good sounding one. After doing this for awhile, I realized what I was doing. I was standing at the urinal, looking down, hands occupied, saying 'Howdy' as though greeting a long lost friend. I would have wet myself had I not already been in position. Then I started thinking a mile a minute about how I would have handled the situation if someone had walked in on me. I decided I would have quit my job right then and there if I survived the heart attack. And then I about fainted with fright. I hadn't considered someone might have been in one of the two stalls. My heart didn't beat for about 30 seconds as I very slowly looked to see if anyone was in them. Happily, God had mercy on me that day and no one was there.

I was reminded of that today as I was sitting in one of those stalls. I am a little upset about the experience I've been having lately. Single ply just does not accomplish anything. I don't know when exactly work made the switch but I strongly disapprove. However, the quality of the paper towels has improved. I think someone made a tradeoff. So I went over to our executive administration assistant and told her how unhappy I was with this change. If we have to have one or the other my vote is for the toilet paper. She told me she would make a note of it, but I caught her sarcasm so I shouted at her. If management is only going to give us half the material, then I'm only giving them half the effort. We'll see how they like it.

Like Silverware Down the Steps

I went home to Podunk on Saturday to surprise the parents. I knew they were going up to Cleveland to see their own parents so I had plenty of time to kill and stopped off in Indianapolis to shop. There is a particular store I like which sells expensive on a hanger. Their underwear costs more than my utility bills. For example, they sell COR. COR is a soap made with aloe, avocado, pomegranate, and last but not least silver. That's right, atomic number 47 silver. I can't begin to imagine the type of person who feels a need to bathe in silver. So I picked up two sample bars. One for Mom and one for my sis. Then I got some shades by Salt and proceeded home.

As I hit the bottom of the hill that leads home I got the call from Mom that they were just leaving Cleveland. I had not expected them to be there so long and they had a 3 hour trip home. So I went to visit my old friend's parents. This was fantastic, I show up unannounced at their door and they take me in, invite me to dinner, and then gave me a present. It was an electric frier which as random as that may sound, is actually a pretty terrific home-warming gift for a newbie like me. Then after I long visit I rushed home to be sure I would beat my parents, whom I was trying to surprise.

Dad called. He was in Columbus (still an hour out, maybe I should have told someone I was coming home). He decided to kidnap Mom and run away with her, because Podunk is unbearably dull and he didn't want to go home. He also wanted me to give him $38,000 so Mom could get a Highlander (I told you he brings up seemingly random stuff see Squirrel Nests). I said no, he cried. But finally at 9:30 they arrived home.

They were both pleasantly surprised, but since we talk nearly every day it was basically hugs, and then on with life. During that time, I gave Mom her soap, which she liked but hadn't yet used at the time of this blog (update to come), and Dad fell in love with my shades. He then had to run to the computer to start looking up Japanese made sunglasses. Now please note that this was around 10:30 at night. At this point they had probably been up longer than I had been in the past two days combined. These people just do not stop. Around 11:00, Mom went into the family room to say goodnight to him, and came out shaking her head. So I go on in and took a look at the screen. Dad, having both travelocity and google earth out, was trying to book a trip to China. And I left the room shaking my head.

This is the China story. Dad and Mom have some business dealings with a landlord over in Cincinnati. Yes, for those of you familiar with the geography, I know Podunk and Cinci are a bit apart, but this is my parents. Anyway, this landlord had just come back from China on a vacation. He's old, so before he went he had a "thorough" physical done. When he got to China with his friend they decided just for kicks to go to a Chinese hospital, which I will call Cling-Clang General since I can neither pronounce nor spell it's real name, and get the same physical. At first he mistook the hospital for a 5-star hotel. There were doormen at the entrance who spoke English and ushered them in. The lobby had a huge chandelier and everything else was mostly marble. The girl at the front desk was cute, spoke English and helped them find the physician who would be performing the physical. The landlord was diagnosed with a partially blocked artery, was told it was at least 70% blocked, and had to go immediately to the cardiologist on the 4th floor. So he did. Again a cute girl took his name, and asked him to have a seat. The seat happened to be the nicest couch he had ever sat in. Not 2 minutes went by before the cardiologist came out, who again spoke perfect English. He did some tests and told the landlord that he did have a major blockage and would need a stint (shunt?) put in right away. The landlord faxed the tests to his doctor in America who confirmed the results. So the landlord asked the doctor when could the operation be performed and how much would it cost. The doctor said he could do it that very moment and it would cost $9,000. The landlord called his American doctor who said it would cost $45,000 in America. And since this landlord had no insurance, asked the Chinese doctor "Do you accept Visa?" They did, and the doctor ushered him back to the operating room where a team of cute nurses prepped him. Then the doctor came in with a tray of stints and asked the landlord to pick which one he wanted. I could just imagine 'Hello Kitty' (Japanese maybe?) stylized stints. Then they got to work. The doctor went through the landlord's arm. And the landlord yelled out "Hey, don't you go through the leg?" "No, we use the latest procedures here." "Aren't you going to put me to sleep?" "Why? You can't feel anything afterall." And about an hour later the landlord was on his way. This is amazing. And let's not forget the American doctors did miss that potentially fatal blockage.

So now Dad wants to go to China.

Manliness

My grandfathers are amazing. They should both be long dead, but are simply too stubborn. For example in the last five years both were diagnosed with cancer. They don't have cancer now. Both have incredible stories, and today I'm going to start with my Mom's Dad since his is more recent. Grandpa, who is in assisted living now, has problems. He doesn't walk so good. Apparently one of the nerves in his spine is being pinched which messes up his balance. And it's going to get worse. Not that it matters. His legs are basically two wounds which at best get worse less slowly in the good times. This is from years of standing for hours on end in the airplane factory where he worked. Like I said he has had cancer. That is worth a story in itself, and could probably be used as proof for God's existence. In short he should be dead. But he's too stubborn. He comes from that older generation of people.

Yesterday Grandpa was rushed to hospital yet again. A few weeks he fell down and hurt his hand. But since Grandpa doesn't acknowledge pain he didn't get it checked, and that 'pain' developed into an infection. This infection is going to require 9 IVs. Two days ago he was to receive his first one. But at some point during the first one, his vein collapsed so they had to take him to the hospital. They put one of those facuet knobs in his arm and now he can just hook up his bags whenever they run out without needing to be pricked all over again. So that was good. Then as the nurses were trying to get him all dressed again to go home, something happened while they were putting on his shirt and all of a sudden there was blood everywhere. I still don't know where it came from but after awhile they stopped the bleeding, got his shirt back on and took him home. Mom who is naturally worried called later that night and asked if a nurse could check on him as he slept at night so that he doesn't accidentally just start bleeding everywhere again and die in his sleep from blood loss. The nurse said she would, and then commented that once they got him home he went down for dinner, and then headed off to play Bingo. Let's think about this. He was just at the hospital for a hand that was so infected he needs to get 9 IVs. He had to go to that hospital because his veins are in such poor condition that they couldn't handle even the first IV unaided. While at that hospital he starts bleeding all over the place as they were trying to do something as simple as put on his shirt. And when he gets back, he goes down for dinner then heads over to bingo!?!? The next day (yesterday) Mom called him up and asked how he was doing. He said he was fine but awfully tired. She asked why was he so tired, and he said he was up until 11:30. She asked what on earth was doing up so late. "After Bingo I wanted to watch James Bond".

Birthday Card

I sent out a birthday card the other day. I spent a good bit of time on it. It's not like I just grabbed a card put down some words and mailed it off. Instead I must have spent a good 15 minutes or more looking for a card (they are so bad nowadays), and then another 15 or so filling it out. It took some time, and I thought the message and card were both funny and sweet. The card itself was pink and blank inside with minimal art on the cover of a stylzed printscreen of a girl in a dress dancing.
After the birthday came and went and I hadn't gotten a call of thanks, I decided to make a call and ask what was the delay all about. If I send something to someone I at least want a grunt of a response indicating it was received. So I made the call, and got screamed at. Apparently it was the rudest most thoughtless birthday card in the history of birthday cards. I was a little shocked. A day doesn't go by where someone doesn't get offended by something I say, but this time I really was having difficulties figuring out what I could have done wrong. So I asked what part specifically was so bad. That didn't help, the whole thing was terrible. Then I asked how what I wrote was being interpreted. More or less what I wrote was, I would have liked to visit but I know you're going to be gone, sorry I couldn't see you and I hope you have a wonderful time with your friends, when I see you next I'll give you your present because I'd rather give it to you in person than just mail it to you. That got translated to, I hope you feel guilty about leaving me behind and going off with your friends. I'm not giving you your gift because you're a jerk. Have a terrible trip.
I'll grant that my style is dry beligerent dis-respectful sarcasm but I never try to be purposely mean. This was a birthday card. What really worries me is that some people can actually think I'm purposely trying to be mean like this. I always hope this is not how I come off, but apparently not. So I told this person, whenever I say or write something that comes off as terrible, they should just say "Hey this sounds horrible, am I understanding you correctly?" Then I will be able to clarify what I'm trying to convey and we will avoid this mess altogether. Line by line we went through the card together and finally the humor and sweetness of the message was brought out. See these types of fiascos could be avoided altogether if only the offended person seeks to make sure they are understanding the offender correctly. The offender may have no idea that what he is doing is making the other uncomfortable.

Because I'm constantly being misunderstood, I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. And when I cannot even give them the benefit I say that they simply don't know any better. I prefer to think the person is simple rather than downright mean. I like to think this is how the world works too but not so. People are so sensitive nowadays, to the point where it's getting really annoying. Every now and then one friend or another will point out that pretty much all of my friends think I judge them. My friends are idiots (that's a fair judgement). I wouldn't be hanging out with them if I was judging them. It wouldn't make sense that I hang out with people I don't like, like I'm a glutton for having terrible times. The big thing is when I go to the bars with them. I hate beer. Hate it, hate it. I can't even force myself to gag it down. All of it, every single nasty brand tastes like variations on wet bread. I don't drink wet bread, that's duck food. And while there are a few, very few, alcoholic drinks I like they are both too expensive and too strong for me. When I'm at home and can control how they're made it's different. So when I want a pop I don't want a big commotion about it. I'm not trying to make some sort of statement here. I don't want a beer, I just want a pop. I don't want wine, I want Juicy Juice. Champaign's not too bad, but it's just weird drinking it at anything other than a wedding. Sort of like drinking red wine outside of Mass. And I'm not drinking the nasty stuff just to fit in with everyone else. First off, I'm sensational I don't have to fit in. Secondly, I'm not 15, I could care less what 'the crowd' thinks. Thirdly, people who say they drink because it loosens them up are cowards. "Oh, I can't go sing kariokee until I have a drink or two more in me." Loser. "Drinking helps make me social" That's because in real life you're a boring turd with nothing valuable to input. Instead of working on your beer, work on being awesome.

Billy Preston > Billy Ray Cyrus

I have fantastic taste. It's a part of being sensational. And I would like to help as many people as possible become sensational because unfortunately many today are so very dull. Today I'd like to discuss music. Knowing good music is important and I will probably have many postings about it thoughtout this blog.

Music is a fantastic way to enrich one's cultural foundation. It can be both a good conversation starter and a nice way to distract from awkward silences. When entertaining people the key to music is having a good mixture of both the classic favorites and new tunes which the audience may not have experienced yet. The new tunes are a bit risky but only playing classics makes one appear to be unoriginal and dull. We all love the classics but they can only be played so many times before even they become overplayed. People who play only the classics are tools, because their chief concern is making a great impression not wanting to risk upsetting anyone. Ultimately this person may be very entertaining at first, but shortly will become unbearably boring. However, playing only new music comes out as being arrogant and hostile rather than hospitable.

Recently I was at a dance where the music was comprised of neither classic favorites nor new unheard of digs. Rather it was contemporary pop. This was an invitation only formal dance. We all have our guilty pleasures, which is perfectly fine, I'm a sucker for 'Mmmbop', but Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera have no place at this type of dance. The music was very poorily chosen. People cannot grind in three-piece suits and gowns, not that they should be anyway but you get my point.

For now I'd like to share with you some good music. I've comprised a list of 11 songs that represent a good spectrum of artists. Some of the songs are old classics and some less mainstream. Notice I didn't always pick the absolute best these artists have to offer. Part of playing new music can simply be playing the B-sides of the legends. I've included youtube links to all of them but I'm not actually posting the videos because I don't want to clutter up my post.

Zombies, 'This Will Be Our Year'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Akmdejcd8CM

Noah and the Whale, '5 Year's Time'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T8YCSJpF4g4

The Zuton's, 'Valerie'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PksBPk_8QQ4

And Steve Winwood's, 'Valerie'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=anCg5EiB2AM

Billy Preston, 'Nothing From Nothing'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_DV54ddNHE

Ray LaMontagne, 'You Are the Best Thing'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2iTX3-cbWnM

Jamiroqaui, 'Seven Days in Sunny June'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TqYtVyC4ALE

Oasis, 'Don't Look Back in Anger'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8OipmKFDeM&feature=channel

Kate Nash, 'Merry Happy'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Zdi2IF5ezw

Pointer Sister's, 'Jump'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgSyB5xSo2U

Kenny Rogers, 'The Gambler'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kn481KcjvMo

A Glass of Water

Occasionally I may post tutorials. This is the first one, and it is more an observation than a tutorial. I find that when I want to read people for signs of stress the best way to do this is by placing a glass of water in front of them. Water is the best for this because everyone likes water, but not so much that they're just going to guzzle the whole thing down right away. Make sure you don't hand them the water, just place it in front of them.

Okay once you've got the water in place then start up your conversation or whatever it is your doing, like a poker game. What I notice is that when people start getting nervous or feeling a bit uncomfortable they will always go for the water. Of course they may just go for the water because they are thirsty and want a drink, but there always seems to be a difference in the way a person grabs the drink naturally and when they grab it as a perceived comfort or safety blanket. Always watch when they grab the drink. If they make a point to look at it, they are nervous or stressed. If they don't look at it they are fine and dandy. I don't know why this is, but that's the way these things work.

Sometimes the person may not go for the drink, but instead will start looking at it, or playing with it. A person who is happy and fine will do the same, but only incidentally. The nervous person will be looking at the glass as they play with it. A happy person just taps naturally without ever looking at the tapping. But a nervous person tends to focus their eyes on the tapping.

Here's some examples. I was at dinner with my family a few years back, and we were picking on each other as we do. But at one point Dad got a bit uncomfortable with our teasing of him, and I saw him look at his beverage and then saw his arm make a slight twitching movement towards it before he pulled it back. I screamed at him "We got you!!" And he just laughed knowing I saw that twitch and look. See he knew by grabbing that beverage he was going only be making a nervous action, and was trying to stop himself. But that's the beauty of this, wanting to grab that glass for whatever the reason is instinctual. You have to force to stop yourself, and unfortunately Dad was just a bit too slow and I caught him. But even if he hadn't made that twitch, the brief look he gave the glass was enough. The look was basically his way of trying to escape the scene. He couldn't walk away so instead he tried to focus on anything else rather than the people in front of him, and in this case it was his beverage. If he had focused on anything else, it might have been more difficult to tell but beverages and basically anything else that one can pick up and fiddle with, like a straw or napkin are clear signs.

The next example is my own to illustrate just how instinctual it is to go for the beverage. About a year ago I was at a restaurant with one of my dear friends who I hadn't seen in about a year. Typically the conversation in such situations would come easily because you can just catch up on the past year's activities. But we had done that the day before when we conincidentally ran into each other. So for me I had nothing much to talk about because we already were caught up and it wasn't like we had been all that involved recently which makes having actual discussions much more difficult. The problem with all of this was that there was a huge white elephant in the room which I didn't want to talk about. But because I'm an aspie (see Contacts and Crushes), not talking about something like a white elephant is about impossible for me. Seriously, it's like something I have to do, similar to how I have to breathe. All my efforts were being put to not talk about that one thing, but since I was so focused on not talking about it I couldn't focus on coming up with anyother topic to talk about. And at one point we had come to one of those natural sliences (which I'm not good with either) and I panicked because I knew I was completely out of ideas, and I went for the drink. I knew as soon as I picked it up what I had done, and I think my friend noticed too (as though I wasn't giving off enough vibes as it was), but fortunately my friend is the extremely social type and was able to come up with a new topic to talk about. I think we focused on how good the food was. But there you go. Even though I knew what picking up that drink meant I was telling about my emotions I couldn't stop myself from doing it. It's instinctual.

So there you have it. If you ever need a simple way to read a person just place a glass of water in front of them and watch.

Unkempt Underarms

At work I was in a meeting with two of my bosses, and they got to talking about what they do for stress relief. Both of them watch their own favorite sports, and were saying how riled up they can get. I said that while I like watching a few of them, I've never been able to do that with sports, excepting maybe for the Rocky movies of course. They asked what I do then to calm down. I said I just bottle it up and shove it down and let it fester until it either leads to a heart attack in my mid-forties or explodes out in a totally inappropriate fit of anger likely at a family reunion or Christmastime. But they retorted and said my dancing is a good outlet.

Yes it is true that I do tend to get a bit animated at work when anything by 'Girls Aloud' comes on my Pandora stations; however, I haven't been out dancing in several months. Notably because it is anything but a stress relief. Here's how I got started. My bud and I were out on a Friday night getting shakes downtown. As we were leaving the restaurant a guy walked by us with 3 attractive girls wearing nothing and going to one of the local clubs. My friend and I looked at each other, he said "I'll take salsa if you take salsa". I said "Yes you will" and we took two semesters worth of salsa classes. So let's be clear. We didn't take salsa with the intention of learning salsa. We took salsa to meet hot girls. This backfired on us. Oh, we met lots of girls. But not quite the ones we had been hoping for. In salsa there is a lot of arm raising and twirling, so when a girl wears a dress if she isn't a fan of razors, you may very well end up with some hair in your face that isn't from her head. Oh my. But after a while my friend and I did get pretty good at it and we felt ready to try going to some of the clubs that have salsa nights.

First off salsa dancing starts just before tomorrow. That means that as soon as I start, I was supposed to have been in bed hours ago. And since the point is to try and meet ladies, I have to get all dressed up. Just playing that game is stressful enough. It's salsa. The people on TV where suits, maybe I'm supposed to wear a suit. Or maybe since it's a night club, I should wear clubbing clothes. But if I wear clubbing clothes it might just look like I'm trying to hard to make myself look good, so maybe I should try business casual. But then I look like a golfer.

So now we are there and scoping out the place. The trick is not to seek out the 8-9s because it's hard enough just trying to sum up enough courage to talk to them let alone performing new dance moves. Instead we go for the 5 - 7s which fall into the wife hot category of the lust scale (see Mushroom Cake). These are girls who can get the job done and probably have fantastic personalities which makes them ideal wives. Now we've finally picked out who we'd like to ask to dance. But there's still a problem. This is farm country. There are Mexicans everywhere, and of course they're out in droves on salsa night. These guys know salsa, which is a huge confidence drain. And that's probably the biggest problem of all. Not only do you have to summon enough courage to actually go up to a complete stranger and ask if she'd like to dance while she's surrounded by all her friends, not only do you then have to do these dance moves that prior to which you've only practiced in a formal classroom setting, but you have to do all of this with confidence.

One night I did all of this. I went up to a pretty girl and asked if she'd like to dance. And amazingly she said yes. We were both new at it so we tried to practice the few moves we knew, and the whole time we were talking. And for about 15 minutes we chatted it up and danced. It was fantastic, I was so happy to have actually been able to dance with someone. Then she introduced me to her boyfriend.

Yes, dancing is such a stress relief I couldn't imagine what I'd do without it.

Mushrooms Have No Place in Cake

The process of ranking girls is a complex one, which I find easiest to explain by using the illustrative example of cake. I think of cake as having two main features, the frosting and the cake part. When a person sees a cake, the first thing they notice is the frosting. It's impossible not to. Highly decorative pretty frosting is naturally going to get more attention than a globby pity inducing coating. And so it is with girls. The pretty ones are going to grab my attention. So frosting is very important. In terms of girls, it is generally the frosting which guys rate from 1 - 10. I refer to this as the lust scale. But as important as frosting is, it is not most important. Frosting, even mutant nasty frosting, is about impossible to mess up taste wise. You'd have to try to make sugar taste bad. I hope you have the ability to grasp the similarity to girls here.

The cake part is the most important. This is the only somewhat nutrious part of the cake afterall and what provides the substance. If you mess up the cake part, the whole cake is nothing more than a foul mess that someone tried to sweeten. And you can't cover nasty for long. One bite is all it takes. The ingredients are very important. For example, some people like carrot cake, others like date cate, and others may hate both of those and prefer chocolate cake. We all have different tastes when it comes to personalities. And what I like others may not.

When I go looking for a girl, what grabs my attention first is her frosting. In general it takes somewhere between 8 and 9 on the lust scale for me to go up to a random stranger. But these are very few and far between. Maybe one every half year or so. And in my whole life I've only ever met one that I put at a 10. So after I find an 8 or a 9 and after summing up a great deal of courage I try to start some sort of conversation to see about the cake part. It just doesn't work the other way around. She may be made of amazing, but I'd never know if she's mutant looking. In those cases, the only way I'm going to get to know those people is if we are brought together. Like when Mom forces you to eat something that looks like filth but actually ends up becoming your favorite dish. In those situations the less appealing can become a serious relationship, but that's about the only way such a relationship would ever come about.

Anyway, no matter how delightful the frosting, the cake is the most important part. No matter how good looking a girl may be, if her personality is wack she needs to be left for another who may find her tasty. Many years ago my friend's parents had an interesting loaf of bread. A loaf of bread generally looks appetizing from the outside, and this one did too. But I found it was filled with mushrooms and other ingredients. I think olives were in it too. Basically this bread consisted of flour mixed with disgusting. The parents said that I just had to try it. And I said no I don't and I won't. Then they got all upset that I wouldn't try new things. I had repressed the memory of that nastiness for probably a decade until this post reminded me of it. I remember it was so gross, that my other friend and I had to sneak down later that night (my friend with the bread had two of us over for a sleep over) just to take another look at it. It was one of those things that you can't bear to look at it but at the same time can't turn your head away. Interestingly, 1-2s on the lust scale can have the same effect and may actually have better chances at meeting new people than 5-7s which I generally find to be the ideal canidates when looking for potential wives.

Contacts and Crushes

Lately, the next challenge (see previous post) has been finding a girlfriend. Throughout all my life I have had one fiasco after the next with girls. Not too long ago I was walking along when I passed by an optometrist's office. I had some time to kill so I decided to get contacts. The doctor happened to have an opening and I got to get waited on right away. I went back into the office and the doctor came in. She was extremely attractive. I put her at a 9 on the lust scale (see future post on cake). I remember during the procedure when she was examining my eyes she had me look in all sorts of directions. Down was my favorite. I felt like a little kid flipping through the lingerie pages of a JC Penny's catalog. Now don't get me too wrong here. Keep in mind I am a red-blooded 20-some year old male afterall. I'll have to post a blog on cake, but for now I'll suffice it to say that personality is more important than looks. And this doctor had personality. Maybe it was just a part of her job but she could hold a conversation. She was witty and intelligent. At the time I knew asking her out would be a mistake because I was going to have to move away in two weeks, but I resolved that if I should ever move back I would look her up again and see if she'd want to grab dinner or something.

A year later I found myself back there. And I was all wound up. I always start shaking during things I really want to get right. You should see me play the piano for an audience. I can't sit still, my leg will be going up and down a mile a minute. Or when I give a speech I can't hold the papers because they'll be shaking so much I can't read them. I have to get around it by memorizing them. So I show up at the doctor's office shaking as usual and ask if I can see her, but I'm told I'll have to schedule an appointment. The soonest available one was the next day. I told them to pencil it in and probably schedule someone else in my place because all I wanted to do was ask a really quick question. After I left I had to laugh. I spent all day at work growing a pair large enough to go in and talk to that doctor only to be told I had to go back the next day. It would seem yet again that a new fiasco was happening. The outrageousness of this was not lost on me. I hadn't seen this person in a year, only had one brief encounter with her, and now I was trying to come in off the street, bother her during her office hours to ask if she'd like to grab food. But I was knew to the area and was trying my best to meet new people, and unfortunately sometimes when you don't know anyone the only way to meet people is to just go up and start talking.

That next morning I took the time to pick out a nice shirt and pants. And I made sure my hair looked nice. All that gushy stuff and then I went back at 10:00. The lobby had a few people sitting around and I walk up to the receptionist and it plays out like this:

-Hi, I'm here for my 10:00 to see the doctor.

Okay, what do you need to see her about?

-Oh, I just need to ask her a quick question.

Mm-hmm, what's it regarding?

-What do you mean? I need to see the doctor.

Yes, but why?

-Do I have to tell you that, I thought these things are personal? (I'm looking around now, and sure enough people are watching to see how this unfolds.)

Yes you do, I cannot let you see the doctor without first telling me why you are here.

-Fine, I just wanted to ask her out to dinner, but if she's married let me know to spare me the embarassment.

Ooooh, I see. I thought you were a saleman (I dressed a little too nice?). Well, the doctor is married but go on ahead and have a seat while I go get her.

-Oh, thanks for telling me. The last time I was here she wasn't wearing a ring. I'll just be on my way.

No, have a seat while I go get her. You have to pay her the compliment.

-Excuse me?

Sit down and wait for me to go get her.

-Wait can't you just tell her for me.

No you need to do it in person, it will mean so much more.

-No thanks, I'm out of here.

SIT DOWN!

So I sat down, in front of everyone who weren't even pretending not to look, and she went off. A second later she comes back and says the doctor will be right out. It felt like 10 minutes. I even helped hold the door open for the delivery guy. After forever, the doctor comes out grinning like the Chesire cat.

Come on back.

-Oh, that won't be necessary.

Come on back, it's fine.

-I just had to ask you a quick question.

Come on back. (And she turns her back and starts walking to her office, leaving me there with no choice but to follow.)

-I just wanted to ask you out to dinner, I didn't know you married. The last time I was here you weren't wearing a ring. (All of that came out in about 1 second as we were walking back).

Now we are in her office. She is leaning against the wall, and I am propped up against her desk which is now all that is holding me upright.

So how's work? I see you got the job.

-Work is lovely.

It's going well for you?

-Yes. Work is very good. I like it a lot.

Well I'm glad you stopped in. You should feel free to come back anytime.

-Oh, I'll be back real soon.

No really. It's fine, stop on by anytime.

-Well eventually I'll have to get these (pointing to my eyes) refilled.

And that was about the end of it. It's funny how the small things stood out. As I walked back to the car, some middle-aged guy stopped me to tell me he was going to be a famous movie star like (actor's name I never heard of). I thought he was going to ask me for money, but no, he just wanted to tell me he was going to be a star.

All the rest of that day and next I had nothing but butterflies in my stomach. But I'm still pretty pleased. See, I don't have many friends in town so meeting new people is difficult. I have little choice but to go up to complete strangers and say 'Hi'. This was by far the boldest thing I had ever done.

. . .

Several months later I found myself back at the doctor's office. I needed a refill on my prescription and the only way to get it is to have another examination. Going back wasn't as difficult but I was thinking about how it would pan out. Afterall, it did seem as though she remembered me the second time I was there from our initial encounter a year prior based on our conversation. So would she still remember me? That whole appointment I really wanted to ask her about what she thought about me coming in off the street asking her out. It was the curiosity of it all. But I didn't. For once in my life I kept my mouth shut. She gave little if any indiciation that she remembered me, and I wasn't about to bring it up. Disappointingly, looking down lost its fun. Can't go around taking peeks at a guy's wife. Stupid lucky guy. But even going back and keeping my mouth shut was a small victory for me. A couple dear friends of mine make fun of me for being an aspie (a person with aspergers syndrome), because of my social tendencies. But despite how much I wanted to bring it up, I kept quiet.

Right now my prescription is less than half gone so I've got a while to go yet before I have to see her again. Maybe there'll be an update to this next year.

A Mode for Super Heros

I remember back in 1989 when Mega Man 2 came out and was a big deal. I remember watching all the older kids play it at the daycare I used to go to. I still remember them trying to figure out the best way to get past the giant jumping fish. My idea was that maybe you should shoot the fish with bubbles since water and fish go together. Now I know that water is probably not the most efficient way to hurt a fish, but at 6 it seemed reasonable that maybe I should match weapons with enemies rather than match opposites. I think I thought that by shooting the fish with bubbles that maybe they'd be nicer to you since they'd like the water. Today, 20 years later, I beat Mega Man 9 on Super Hero mode. For those of you who cannot comprehend the meaning of that, Super Hero mode is 3 times harder than hard. The default setting for the Mega Man series is a challenging 'slightly possible'. It was nice reliving a lot of those moments from childhood. The tough-as-nails gameplay is all but lost today. Mega Man is the type of game where you lose because you're terrible. It's not because of the controls, or some cheap gimmic. It's simply because you aren't good enough. The only excuse is your own. In our society of acceptance and tolerance it's so satisfying to have a few humilating mediums that aren't afraid to say sorry you don't make the grade. I think today many have grown accustomed to settling for less. I hear it all the time. "You are way too picky." "You're never going to do/find/learn that." This defeatist attitude today is saddening. This is what sets Mega Man apart from the rest. It doesn't settle for less, which is strange to todays' youth and a stark reminder to those of us who lived when life was Mega Man. When you're feelings didn't matter, where you were either going to get better or be left behind as a worthless failure and told so. Today I beat the best Mega Man 9 had to offer. Next challenge.

Squirrel Nests

My parents travel a lot. I think this is because they live in Podunk, Ohio where at best there is little to do. Typically they just go on day trips to other middle of the nowhere places. For example they have no problem driving 2 hours to Utica in order to buy potato chips. Although, in my parents defense, those Utica potato chips are very good. With the advent of cell-phones my Dad has become a little less self-reliant, and often times calls me up needing me to do an internet search for him. You'd think this would be for directions, but more often his needs lie elsewhere. They tend to be random because he doesn't give any reasons he just gets on the phone asks and then gets off. Here are some of his more interesting requests.

How many acres is Four Seasons Lake in Lancaster?
-104

Do a price lookup for 711 A Avenue, Cornondo, California. Just go to the auditors website and look at the tax records.
-Dad, it's the Hansen Mansion, it's not listed and it isn't for sale.

Quick do a google search on squirrel nests!

Now Mom on the other hand does internet searches for me. You see recently I found myself with a bit more free-time on my hands than usual. This happened because most everything I was involved with sadly came to abrupt unexpected ends. And so, being the mother she is, she has sought to find new things for me to start up. Typically these are fairly decent ideas which tend to revolve around community involvement. However, with all the good ideas come a few less appealing ones. The most outstanding of those duds was the Book Club. Now I could be completely mistaken here, but I just have a difficult time imagining anyone my age in a book club. Or to put it another way anyone my age that I would want to engage with in a book club. Her arguments for my joining the book club are that I like to read, have topical discussions and it would be a great way to meet like minded people. Unfortunately this is hard to argue against, so instead of trying to I took the stubborn route and just said 'no'. You know awhile back I tried to do more community involvement. One Sunday I woke up early and headed to the soup kitchen to help out. I thought it would be a great way to meet people and at the same time actually do something not completely self-serving for once. But when I got there I found myself surrounded by senior citizens. They must have been a little surprised by my being there because they asked me what I was doing there. I said "I woke up early and had nothing else to do so I thought I'd help out." Them: "Oh, don't you have a girl-friend to spend the morning with?" Me: "I just wanted to help out here, I don't do much community service." Them: "Well if you have a boy-friend that's alright too." Me: "I'm not gay, I just wanted to help out." Them: "It's alright you're still welcome here, thank you for coming." That's what community service gets you. I go to help out at a soup kitchen, and in the process my sexual orientation is brought into question by a bunch of judgemental senior citizens. I cannot imagine joining a book club would help my case any.

Hi

My first post. A childhood friend of mine over in Oregon said I should be writing down my day-to-day activities because they would make a good TV sitcom. Now, I don't claim to have a very interesting life. Everyone has stories like mine. But it's kind of neat having a blog, and I have a lot to say and a good deal of freetime to do it so I'm going to just type away to my heart's content. Thanks for stopping by, feel free to say "hello", and I hope you find your time hear enjoyable.