Old Bird

No one listens to me. Yesterday I went to Meijer to pick up one of their Rotisserie chickens. Maybe due to all the students coming back from their Spring Break they were out. But I went up to the counter and asked an employee if any more were coming. The employee was this very tiny, elderly, Asian lady. One of those types who, while old, appears physically capable of out working you and is as stubborn as a mule. She took me to the oven, showed me the birds, and told me to come back in 5 minutes.

So I went off to get some more essentials, which in this case was orange and grape juice (no pop for Lent has me drinking a ton of juice), and apples. Now that I think about it, I did quite good yesterday getting healthy food for once. Anyway, I went back and the lady asked me what flavor would I like. Meijer has three flavors, original, barbecue and lemon herb. 'I'll have an original please.' 'We don't have it. Just barbecue or lemon' 'Okay, then I'll try out the barbecue one.' 'No. I'll give you the lemon herb.' 'Oh, I'm sorry I said barbecue (thinking she didn't hear me, she is old after all)'. 'No, my family loves the lemon herb, you will too, I'm going to get it for you.' 'Alright then I'll try that.' 'Hold on I need to find a big one for you.' Then she brought it back and spoke at length about how much her family likes it and what a good choice I made.

Turns out she was right. It really is good, much better than I expected. I was expecting it to be more lemony than it actually tastes.

Hair cuts

For the first 14 years of my life I had the same haircut. It was one of those parted styles from the 70s. As a child my sister and I were my Mom's dolls. She would just dress us anyway she chose and didn't really care what we thought on the matter. From what I remember my sister didn't care, and I didn't either. Clothing styles never really mattered to me, and besides I'd just get them filthy and holey from playing outside in them. Occasionally when I came home from school Mom would have new clothes laying on my bed. She told me to try them on and if they fit they went into my closet. Simple.

Mom wanted us looking our best when we went to school. She never said it but I think she thought sloppy looking children were the result of shoddy parenting. So she took great pains to ensure that my sister and I looked good. Unfortunately that didn't apply to our clothing. We never were given the 'cool' kid clothes. But she did her best, especially with my sister who was always dressed in little dresses.

But my hair had a routine all to its own and was a bit amusing for many years. Mom had to do it. She had me sit down on this odd bench/chair of hers, and with a blow dryer in one hand and a big comb in the other she set about her business. Again I never really cared all that much, but as I grew older I did start to notice that I was behind in the styles. Eventually, and I don't remember when, I took over and started doing it myself. I never bothered with the blow dryer that was incredibly too much work. I would just grab some of Mom's moose, throw it in, put a comb through it, and be done. Mom was okay with that approach, but I remember at first she was distrusting of my method and she would put tape in my hair to make sure it dried correctly. As a kid I didn't care, but it is pretty amusing to think on now.

Eventually Mom started noticing that I was very behind in the styles, and she told me I should get with the times and get a different hair cut. I agreed with her and pretty much all my friends who made fun of me, but this was my style for all my life. I didn't feel like changing it and then having to deal with all the comments people were going to make. I knew what the styles were of the time period but I guess I didn't have the self-confidence required to make the change. Maybe it was because I was never a 'cool' kid and I thought that by changing my hair style my peers would think I was a poser. It wouldn't be bullying, maybe just more alienation. I was never bullied, or if I was, people learned right quick to leave me be. So mostly I was left alone by the cool kids. They didn't mess with me but also didn't include me.

One day my Dad had to take me to get my haircut. This was the first time in really ever that Dad took me. He told the lady to cut it short and mess it up. Back then, as now, no one listened to me and she did as he told her. I later thought that the reason Dad went and not Mom was because it was their plan that I was going to get a new style and I would have to be better behaved with Dad around.

The next day at school immediately I got the nickname Spike. My bangs, something I always dreaded as a child because I thought bangs were feminine, were shaped like spikes. That and I had 'stabbed' a kid a year before with a pencil that became known as my spike (told you I stood up to bullies). So the two were a perfect fit and I had my nickname. I liked the nickname, probably because I never had one before and it wasn't demaning. This was also about the time we started thinking it was cool to start calling each other by our last names. We still do that to this day, and I still have a few who address me by my nickname.

The whole point of this is to relate to you how difficult it is for me to change styles even if I know they are behind the time or just down right not suited for me. So it should come as no surprise to you when I say that yesterday, for the first time in 5 or 6 years, I very trepidaciously shaved off my goatee. There were a number of reasons for this. First I was curious what I would look like sporting the scruffy look. Second the reason I grew it in the first place is no longer reasonable. And finally I was also curious what I'd look like without it being there. I didn't go all the way though. I wanted to save some time and only shaved it down to the rest of my beard which was at about 3 days growth. It was odd though. Before I shaved it off I felt the rest of my beard was too long and need a trim. But after shaving it off everything seems much too short and now I want everything longer.

The comments have already started coming in. After Mass yesterday, a friend who saw me said I replaced my super villain goatee (like the kinds of villains who tie pretty ladies to railroad tracks) with a 15 year old boy's face. Mom said she is so happy because the ladies now a days like the scruffy look and maybe it will help me out a bit. That remains to be seen.

Bending is Hard

My friend, who had the initial idea to start up salsa dancing in order to meet ladies, has a new idea in mind. This time he wants me to take yoga lessons with him. I was totally into learning salsa but I'm finding yoga harder to warm up to. I completely agree with his thinking that at a yoga lesson there are likely to be many girls with flexible knockout figures. But we also agree that is the icing on this cake and we have no idea how the substance will be. For starters I'm just not all that sure that I'd be all that into the personalities of girls who take yoga. I sort of categorize girls who take yoga as fanatical liberal feminists. That is probably a bit wrong, but that's the image I have in my head and it's difficult to overcome.

The next problem is that they are going out of their way to exercise. As I take salsa, I take it because I enjoy the activity and want to possess the skills I am acquiring. Yes, I may have started it to meet new people but that doesn't mean I dislike the activity. Whereas I do dislike going out of my way to exercise, and even more I dislike paying to exercise when I can simply go run around outside for free. I don't doubt the benefits I can gain from yoga, but I don't want to mislead people into thinking this is something that I like to pursue and do in my free time. Like if I did meet someone and we start a relationship up, my idea of a good time together would not be sitting on our mats chanting some mantra.

The third and slightly less important aspect of this is that I consider yoga to be a bit feminine in general. In other words the girls in the class may not think I'd be into them in the first place just by my being there.

But like I said I don't doubt the benefits that can come from yoga and I could certainly stand for a bit of increased flexibility. And even though it's spring break and my friend is currently out of town, yesterday I did a little research on local classes.

I found one that meets everyday for beginners. It's called Asana yoga. Asana yoga is essentially a bunch of standing or sitting positions. That alone made me hesitant to start up. Classes are $14 and that seems like a high price to pay to just be sitting or standing around for an hour. Here are couple of poses.

Curious for more information, I called up the place where the class occurs. But no one picked up, so I turned on my TV and went to the sports section where they have yoga exercise videos available. The beginner one was Asana yoga and was 20 minutes long. I lasted 10 minutes. It was very intense. For example take the top picture with the guy touching his toes. At one point in the video I had to do that. Bending as hard as I could, the top of my head just barely went as low as the top of my knees. That guy's head is well below his knees. Then we had to perform what you see in the second picture. This too was insane. Notice that guy's heels are on the ground. Get up and try this. You can't appreciate this otherwise. Go on, this post isn't going anywhere.

So while I highly doubt I'll start up these classes, I have left with a far greater appreciation for yoga and the benefits it can bring. My legs are still sore today after yesterday's 10 minutes. But instead of exercising, today I found a place in town that offers monthly cooking classes. Next month they are making avocado mango chicken. I'm no avocado fan, but I think any type of cooking class is a great idea. The only problem with these classes is that they are $50. You get to cook the meal, education on how to do it by a chef, and they wine and dine you but it's still a high price. My friend says he's going to research the yoga campus offered on campus so maybe something will come of that, but for now I'll be working on sitting and eating tasty foods.

Tricky RSVPs

One of my friends is getting married on the 22nd of May. I'm not too pleased about that date because it's a Sunday. Marriages should be on Saturdays so that the party can last longer into the evening. Plus it might give participants more time to travel.

I got the invitation a few days ago, and the RSVP is due this Friday. Stacy happens to also be a friend of the couple and I thought it would be fun to ask her to be my date for the wedding. Two nights ago I called her up from Schnuks. I was in Schnuks because I needed to buy some happiness. The two public libraries in town didn't have the book I was looking for on Actionscript 3.0, which is a programming language. In this case I was looking for oatmeal, because I wanted to make musli cookies. The cookies turned out great, I used oats, dates, papaya, honey, bananas, apples, and some other tasty ingredients. But getting back on track here, I was in Schnuks and called up Stacy. But I had a bad signal. This is what essentially what I heard on the phone:

Hi....no.....love to....need a date.....pool closed.....people here.....cake.....party.....choir.....bye.

Combined with what I said, I translated all that as: Hi Greg, no I don't know if I'm here for the summer, yes I'd love to go to the wedding, oh yeah you need a date, even if I do end up being a life guard the pool will be closed in May so I'll be free, people are here I made a cake and we're having a party, I'm expecting to get an invitation at noon Mass since Jenny is in the choir with me, bye.

Now because I have next to no social life and most all my friends are dweebs I don't get invited to a lot of weddings. So of course I had to make Mom happy and give her a call. Mom was rather pleased with the news, even though I reiterated to her that we are going just as friends. This is how the rest of the conversation went. I asked, What's this `M' all about on the RSVP? You put an r, s or rs after it and then sign your name. Oh really, I had no idea, I thought it was an abbreviation for a fancy word. Speaking of this, who is the envelope addressed to? I said `Mr. Greg Hudson'. Then you can't bring a guest. But the RSVP asked how many people I am bringing. So what you think you can bring 7 people? It did occur to me that they left themselves open there. No Greg, if they wanted you to bring more people they would have addressed the envelope as `Mr. Greg Hudson and Guest'. That's the silliest thing I've ever heard, why on earth would anyone make this so complicated, of course I can bring Stacy. Greg, you're wrong, I can just see you bringing her and them telling you there's no room, did she get an invitation? I think she's getting one this Sunday since she's in choir with Jenny, but the RSVP is due this Friday so I'm a little confused on that point. Just go call your friend and ask him and if it's a matter of cost delicately offer to foot her bill.

So I called my friend up, and being the clueless wonder he is about his own wedding he told me to call his fiance. Well I don't have his fiance's number so I sent her a message asking if I could bring a guest but not telling her it was Stacy. I then put it out of my head and went to Mass. Unfortunately after communion I had a giggling fit because the thought popped into my head, `this is why you can't have nice things like a girlfriend'. What a mess this was. During Mass my friend called, so after I got out I rang him back. He asked me who I wanted to bring as a guest. I said Stacy. That got him laughing, especially when I told him that I had asked Stacy before I found out how these types of invitations work and the fiasco this had caused. He said that he and his fiance's original plan was to invite me with the instructions to then invite Stacy. But after he heard how my date went they decided to invite me singly and have Stacy be in the choir at their wedding. That explained the miscommunication on the cell phone. Then he said that since we were both coming and Stacy agreed to be my guest that they would seat us at the same table. And all was fine.

This morning I saw my reply from his fiance which was written before I talked to my friend. And she said what my friend said. "We were expecting your guest to be Stacy, but not being sure how things were between you to we decided to invite you separately. Don't worry we will be sure to sit her on the other side of the room. Out of curiosity who is this lady friend of yours that you want to ask? Once we figure out who is coming for sure we'll be able to tell you if you can invite her." Shortly after she must have talked to my friend because she sent another message saying to ignore everything she just said.

That was quite a story, and after all that I wrote Stacy an e-mail this morning detailing this whole ordeal because I thought she'd find it funny. Later on this morning she wrote me back, saying it was indeed very funny but was glad it all worked out. And then she told me that she just got off the phone with her Mom, who said she has to go to Disney World from the 17th - 23rd for a family vacation and will not be allowed to leave early to go the wedding.

Stylized Grinding

This week me and my classmates learned Bachata 101. Wow. I don't think I'm old enough to watch that let alone do it with a stranger. To start, we were taught the basic rhythm and steps. Like salsa it has 8 counts, and you step on 1,2,3, 5,6,7. But unlike salsa where beats 4 and 8 are typically for resting, in the Bachata they are used for hip thrusting. And so we had to learn how to properly hip thrust. This is significantly more challenging that it may sound, and it was hilarious watching the guys try to pull it off. Well it was hilarious until I tried doing it myself. It really is hard. Because you aren't just doing some weird pelvic hump thrust. You have to thrust your hips in a particular direction in a particular way or it won't look right. And you have to get your whole body into it as well. The idea is that you thrust in the opposite direction you just moved. So if you were sliding to the right on 1, 2, 3. Then you have to thrust to the left. But then you're also supposed to start walking to the left on 5, 6, 7. That for me is really hard for some reason. It's like trying to rub my belly and pat my head. I get tongue tied except it's my legs. I think the problem for me is that you have to take two steps with the same leg. It's like if you are walking and after taking a step with your right leg you go ahead and take another step with your right leg. Because your brain is wired to go left right left, it may be much harder than it sounds to go left right left right right left right left left right . . .

After we got some good practice in just walking around and thrusting our hips, it became time to add partners. No A-frames here. It was chest to chest and your legs have to scissor each other. See in salsa you're supposed to lead with your arms, but in bachata you are supposed to lead with your body. So you have to stand really close together so that the girl can feel your frame. The problem is if she's a pretty girl she may end up feeling more than my frame!! Haha, that was gross.

But in reality that was not an area of concern for me. Trying to keep the beat, complete the steps, figure out the thrust, and think of any turns I want to do keeps my mind more than occupied enough. It is a lot of fun though, and it's nice to be learning a different style. Although, I still haven't gotten the salsa style down yet.

On an unrelated note, that isn't long enough to warrant a full post so I'm writing it here, last night it rained. And sometime between 4 and 5 I was awoken. I was having my usual pleasant James Bond-esque dreams, saving the girl and shooting the bad guys when I started vibrating. My apartment was shaking and there was a massive boom. Actually it was BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. Four of them, in sequence but without pause. I have no idea what it was. One guy at work said it may have been a transformer exploding. All I know is that it was very very loud. I thought this must be the second coming, and fell back to sleep happy. I figured if this really was the end of the it all, then at least I was behaving myself. I didn't think Jesus was going to fault me for sleeping at 4 in the morning.

Smiling Cats

‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ has always been a favorite of mine. For me it’s the subtle insanity of the characters. Other than the Queen of Hearts they are relatively harmless, and can even be a little charming, but they are all stark raving mad. And that characteristic brings a slightly creepy, unsettling tone to everything. There are a lot of other books or movies that also involve insane characters, but for me it’s the characters of Wonderland that pull it off the most convincingly.

I saw the new Alice this weekend with my parents who came into town to visit. At times the movie caught the feeling of the original two novels brilliantly, but ultimately it fell flat. There were a few areas in particular that diminished the experience. First it felt too commercialized. I saw it in 2D and there were certain elements that you could tell were only put in the way they were put in to enhance the 3D experience. That was annoying. And I don’t think Alice should try to be marketable to everyone. We all have opinions about what we consider to be great art, although I do tend to think the most magnificent art is universally appreciated. But by trying to market to everyone, chances are the art is going to be lukewarm. And for me that’s what happened here. The best art was made by someone who is likely doing not for anyone else and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks it should look or sound like. Some people will love it others will hate it, and occasionally it will be so terrific that no one cannot be amazed and heightened by it. This was just not the case here. I didn’t expect it to be, the books weren’t either, even for a big fan like me, but it very easily could have been much much more. The plot was one that could be perfectly mapped to a video game. And the cast of characters was too well known. Had the characters been unknown it would have made their insanity a little more convincing and we wouldn’t have gone in with any expectations about how they were going to act. Going back to the plot, it was the same basic formula we’ve seen too many times and was very predictable. But this isn’t always bad. For example, in Super Mario Brothers the plot never changes. Princess Peach gets kidnapped by Bowser and Mario and Luigi rush to save her. But no one cares because what makes the game is the art direction and game play which is so classic most everyone is perfectly content playing the same thing time and time again with a fresh coat of paint. So while the plot couldn’t be more derivative, so long as Wonderland and its inhabitants were amazing no one would care.

But unfortunately, Wonderland wasn’t too wonderful and the inhabitants were limited because of the plot. Much of Alice relied on the original Disney animation. So many elements of the movie were more about nostalgia than about introducing unseen elements of the world. It would have been nice to see a smattering of the old elements complimenting newer aspects but instead all we got was old elements. And now that I think about it, the voices were just off. The Chesire Cat and the Mad Hatter in particular had those fantastic voices in the animation. Both were voiced by probably the most famous cartoon vocalists of all time, next to Mel Blanc from the Looney Tunes. The Cat had Sterling Holloway (voice of Winnie the Poo), and the Hatter had Ed Wynn (the laughing guy from Mary Poppins). But now the Chesire Cat sounded much too sensible and classy. For me only the caterpillar and maybe Humpty Dumpty are supposed to sound refined and elegant. They are the learned inhabitants, but of course they must still be completely mad. In this new movie the caterpillar was not only sane he was also the voice of reason.

And the inclusion of this particular plot forced the inhabitants to be less mad and random. They had to be working towards a common goal. For example, the Mad Hatter was rather unmad for most the movie. This was saddening because on the few occasions when the characters could just be themselves the movie delivered on all levels. The March Hare and Mad Hatter were brilliant for the first 30 seconds of our meeting them again. Although those 30 seconds did borrow heavily from the cartoon. And the Queen of Hearts was pretty much always spot on, but the scene of the stolen tarts and her introductory meeting with Alice were so fantastic that those two scenes alone for me were probably worth the price of the ticket. There we saw the Wonderland we grew up with, completely insane, impossible, and just a little creepy. Carol would probably have been very happy. Those two scenes could have been right out of his writings.

Happy Feet

The latest bunch of salsa classes are much different than the last set I've had. The instructor is not the same as the two from last year and has been teaching us very different moves. Even the basic step is different. I’m a pretty quick learner at class, but that’s also about the only practice I get. So last night just before my class, I asked one of my friends who is taking the beginner class just before mine if she wanted to go out later in the evening to go dancing. And she said sure why not. Mind you this wasn't a date. I just didn't want to take the classes and never use them and then forget everything again, and I thought she might also like to get some practice in.

I've already talked about what the night-life salsa experience is like. And little has changed since then. Namely a Y-chromosome for an X, and that makes a big difference. Gone is the stress of trying to go up to a random girl and asking her to dance. Although I did take note of how the pros did it. They just extend their hand and put an inquisitive look on their face. And the girl either shakes her head no, or takes their hand. But the girls also seemed to be amazing, or at least could follow a lead. So if I were to ask a girl to dance, she’d probably be expecting I’m already masterful. The trick is to find friends to go with.

My friend had never been to this particular bar for salsa dancing before and she was very intimidated. As always, everyone on the floor looked like a master. But after a drink we hit the floor. And quickly the necessity of practice became clear. I couldn't remember anything I had learned over the past 3 or 4 weeks. The moves were just out of my head. So we stumbled around for a bit and as the time went on things improved a bit. But then she decided that I had to dance with one of her friends that was coincidentally also there. Her friend said she was just a beginner but I saw her dancing earlier and she was as much a beginner at salsa as I’m a beginner at getting a girl to say 'no'. Fortunately, God took some pity on me and helped me remember a few moves.

In the end we were out until after 1, and had a very good time. We were both pretty weak on the floor but it was still fun to get out. The difficult part is trying to not think that everyone is watching you. When you’re the audience you’re only watching the good people because they’re amazing. You just don’t even notice the weaker ones. So it stands to reason that no one is going to watch you if you're no good, but convincing yourself of that is easier said than done.

As a final note when we were done and remarking on how fun it was I told her that I had hesitated on asking her. See she was with Stacy and I last Friday, and knew about everything. So I had thought that by asking her, she might go thinking that I was trying to play a rebound or something like that. But she said she hadn't thought of it like that at all, and was very glad I asked. But don't go jumping to any conclusions. My friend is about as sure as she can get that she's becoming a sister.

CATs not to pet

One of my friends, who is a student teacher, called last night. She told me she was exhausted because she had spent the whole day leading and monitoring a standardized exam that all her 3rd graders were required to take.

That reminded me of the 4th grade. In the 4th grade, my classmates and I were required to take the California Achievement Test (CAT). I'm not sure why there wasn't an OAT for us to take, but I suppose being 4th graders we all liked cats better than oats anyway so maybe it was for the best. This was the first time I had ever taken a standardized test before and I remember that I got a bit stumped trying to complete it. I couldn't get through the first page that was asking for my information. I got my name down just fine, but then it asked for my 'gender'. Well I'm a boy, or maybe a man, but those choices weren't provided. Instead they had 'male' and 'female'. I had never been exposed to those words before and had no idea what they meant. And I was too embarrassed to ask because I felt that it was something I should have known. I also didn't want to ask one of my friends, because I couldn't trust that they wouldn't play a trick on me and tell me the wrong answer to make me look like a girl. My solution was to look off one of the other guys exams. I still remember trying to sneak a peek at Anthony's exam. But I think he caught me. Nevertheless I found out I am a male and got to take the rest of this very difficult exam.

A Matter of Taste

The best part of Epcot center, next to riding inside that giant Ball, is walking around the World Showcase. Seeing the different types of clothing art and geography, hearing the music, and tasting the foods is a blast. Sure it's all surface level immersion, but it's about the closest many will ever get outside of a National Geographic Special to visiting Germany, China or any of the other countries. While we may find the differences a little too odd for comfort, I think everyone should use what opportunities are given them to explore a bit.

Last Friday I went on that date with Stacy to the sushi restaurant. Although it's not strictly a sushi restaurant. It's actually a fusion restaurant that happens to serve sushi. Fusion themed foods seem to be all the rage lately and I don't think I'm buying into it. I don't want a Mediterranean flavored Brazilian chicken. I haven't properly experienced either so before we go mixing things up I want to try the traditional dishes first. But in the end it didn't matter anyway. It was Friday so we stuck with seafood, and in this case it was traditional sushi.

Sushi is one of those foods that everyone but me seems to love. And the people who love it always seem to have this pomposity about them. Like they are somehow more cultured for liking the disgusting dish and they want everyone to know how experienced they are with Eastern Cuisine. It's uncooked fish thrown into a bunch of rice, wrapped with a wet leaf. Any rural 4 year old routinely makes similar "dishes" every summer day out in their back yards. But maybe those lovers get to me because even though I know I can't stand sushi, I still find myself trying it from time to time to see if I've finally figured out what I've been missing.

Quick tangent while we're on food. People who cannot spell should not be allowed to name things. Salmon has an 'L' in it, but is pronounced 'samon'. As though I wasn't already stressed enough going on this first date in several years, now I have to worry about how to pronounce the two syllable name of a fish.

In the end it didn't matter, because my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to try to determine once more what I was missing with sushi. I suppose, considering how worked up everyone gets about the dish, that I was expecting the raw fish would put my taste buds into a state of unbeknownst bliss. Unfortunately the sushi fell a bit short. Stacy, apparently enjoyed it but then decided to start experimenting with some of the spices. When she first tried the green wasabi, she had such a beautiful twinkle in her eye. But it quickly turned to tears.

And I think that's what amazes me most about different cultures. It's the different tastes that people have. How anyone can actually enjoy wasabi is beyond me. Tonight I went to an Asian grocery market here in town and picked up a few items. The two I want to talk about are hot wasabi green peas and red bean ice-cream.

Being a Christian I am told that true happiness in life will come not by hoarding but by sharing. Well I think that's about right for these green peas because the only enjoyment that can come from them is watching other people eat them.

The ice-cream isn't bad but I'm just as confused about how it was created as I am by how someone thought horseradish and anything can go well together. Seriously, take a half gallon of vanilla ice-cream and add a can of Busches baked beans. That to me is about on par with the level of thinking required to add red beans and vanilla ice-cream. But the remarkable thing is that it works. No it's not anything to write home about (yes I realize I'm writing a blog about it), but it's not bad either. It tastes a lot like a very weakly flavored chocolate ice-cream.

Maybe that can be this week's goal for you. Go out to the grocery and buy one new item you've never tried before and share the experience with somebody.