Saturday, May 20, 2006

Sometimes it's more fun not knowing.

I went to Staples today to send a fax. I got the "associate in training" named Maggie, a gorgeous young thing, caught in that age gap where she looks too good NOT to be too young. Still, the mind ponders the possibilities. My parents split a 13-year age gap, though they obviously didn't meet at age 10 and 23.

So I played out a scenario in my head. When she hands me the fax, do I inquire about her situation?

I do not, for several reasons.

1. Situations like this have never worked for me. Ever. These sort of spur-of-the-moment women just aren't interested. History has made this painfully and utterly clear to me.

2. I work every day now, doing my freelance junk during the day, and nightly doing online customer support for Kuma Games. Both of these things run every single day of the week. One could say I don't have TIME for a girlfriend, at least enough to be fair to her. Someone else could counter by saying, "Yeah, but that makes you more unattainable, and chicks go for that." Not in my experience.

3. Sometimes it's just better to have that lingering wonder, the "what if" of it all. As soon as you ask and she invariably says "no," there's nothing left to wonder or speculate or pretend about. It's left the realm of being a mental toy and become real world fact.

Every moment leading up to the one where she shoots me down, there are countless possibilities of how it can turn out, and my creative side likes that. Reality is just not as fun.

Still, I might go back one of these days and ask her out. However, despite my reluctance before, I am a firm believer in striking while the iron is hot. Going back just for that purpose seems....weird. Most of the time I'd rather just stay single than continue to be disappointed at how many women won't even talk to a decent guy, but then complain to their friends that they never meet any.

All this over one silly fax.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

True Bullshit

I put some of my frustration into doing something creative, and boning up on my Paint Shop Pro skillz to boot. This girl named Amy wrote a post a while back about how that True dating site is actually full of shit in their advertising, claiming that girls who would have no trouble getting hit on in CHURCH apparently are just waiting at the site, clamoring for your cock.

So, I touched them up a bit. Take a peek at the before and after:


The Wall

No, this isn't a Pink Floyd post. It's in reference to my mental funk, put in place by the staggeringly annoying job market I've been beating my head against in futility. This is compounded by the fact that we moved to the rectum of Massachusetts (Worcester), just out of reasonable distance to any decent writing or tech jobs, and the fact that I ordered a computer the other day based on the promise of training session the following day that never happened at a job I supposedly have. She was supposed to call. I was supposed to start working. She didn't call, and it's throwing off my mindset for the whole goddamn weekend.

What's more, I skim postings on Craigslist in San Francisco and Seattle, and all kinds of shit is going on out there that I'd like to be doing. Of course, the chances of landing any one of those jobs is still pretty slim, but working for Wired Magazine is still a little more in line with my interests and experience than, say, TechTarget or, which are places I've interviewed before.

There is no place to play hockey around here (come the fuck on; it's the east coast, where hockey practically got started in the U.S.), but even if there were, it's been raining here the last four days and shows no signs of letting up any time soon.

I still have no idea where to go in this town to meet girls, let alone any I can tolerate. I'm just in a really pissed off headspace right now. Pardon me.

On the upside, the sperm donor thing has moved to step two, and it earned me a pair of movie tickets, which represents a higher level of irony for me. On one hand, it's kind of depressing that I can't find a girl who'll go to a movie with me, but on the other, it's something of a date proposition, and if the cryobank wants decent samples, the last thing I should be doing is having more sex.

Either way, the next step I believe is blood tests for genetic and infectious agent screening. They gotta make sure I'm clean and not going to cause kids to grow a third arm or anything. It would SEEM like a walk in the park, given what I know about my family history, but god knows what they're going to find when they do the genetic screening. Hell, I might have an STD by now for all I know. Seems EXTREMELY unlikely, mainly because you have to have the S to get the TD, but you never know. Maybe I've got a brain tumor in my future and my dick's gonna rot off unexpectedly. Or maybe genetic leprosy runs in the fam. Then we can swap body parts at Christmas.

My roommates are chronic slobs, which also gets to me. Leaving dishes sit out, unsoaked. Not changing the TP roll. Leaving used cotton swabs on the floor. Clumps of cat hair here and there. Towels left on the floor or stuffed behind the towel bar rather than hung up in any kind of proper manner. Stains all over the stove. Stinky cats. Used maxi pads that missed the trash can. Hair all over the sink. Spilling milk on the table and not cleaning it up. Shoes left out everywhere and anywhere. Balled up socks stuffed into the seat cushions in the living room. Not putting the twist tie back on the bread bag so it just sits there turning into croutons. Dishes that WERE supposedly washed but are put away still dirty or WET. Screaming baby and sassy 8-year-old. And that pervasive SMELL in the next room where they sit all day. Put a gun in my mouth please.

/end rant

Friday, May 12, 2006

How stupid do you have to be?

I saw this today in my bulletins on MS. Seems pretty retarded to me.

Dear Friends:

I know not all of you are women that I am sending this to, but am hoping you will share this with your wives, daughters, mothers, sisters, etc. Our world seems to be getting crazier by the day. Pipe bombs in mail boxes and sickos in parking lots with perfume. Be careful.

I was approached yesterday afternoon around 5:30 PM in the Wal-Mart parking lot by two males asking what kind of perfume I was wearing. Then they asked if I'd like to sample some fabulous scent they were willing to sell me at very reasonable rate. I probably would have agreed had I not received an e-mail warning of a "Wanna smell this neat perfume?" scam.

The men continued to stand between parked cars, I guess to wait for someone else to hit on.

I stopped a lady going towards them, pointing at them and told her about how I was sent an email at work about someone walking up to you at the malls or in parking lots and asking you to SNIFF PERFUME that they are selling at a cheap price or at least compare to which one you like best.


When you sniff it, you'll pass out. They'll take your wallet, your valuables and heaven knows what else. If it were not for this e-mail, I probably would have sniffed the 'perfume' but thanks to the generosity of an e-mailing friend, I was spared whatever might have happened to me. I wanted to do the same for you.


Just out of curiosity, why would anyone want to buy perfume (or anything for that matter) out of some guy's car? Isn't that like buying watches from a guy who keeps them inside his overcoat?

We have stores for this, legitimate retailers, for a reason, and somehow this seems like little more than a way to weed out the bottom of the common sense gene pool.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

This Post, Brought to You By Leslie

I just read this. CLICK.

So what days/moments changed it all for me? Well, my abbreviated spur-of-the-moment list would have to at least include (in no particular order):

1. In second grade when I made fun of a friend's speech impediment to seem "cool" to everyone else. He heard me, and stopped being my friend the same day. From that day forward, I never did anything just to seem "cool" and have a very adverse--even volatile--response to peer pressure. If you ask me to do something and I say no and you say, "Oh come on..." be prepared for major hostility.

2. Any and every first kiss. You know who you are out there. I don't take an interest in a woman lightly, and for me to kiss you is like some typical guy proposing to you. It MEANS something. So imagine how seriously I take sex. Go ahead and shudder.

3. Speaking of, the night I lost my virginity. I was 22, and it was unlike anything, far better than I could have imagined. And it lasted almost an hour, to boot.

4. The first time I really drank. I was 24. Believe it, folks. I was in Michigan for a weekend, and was pleasantly trapped in a house with 7 women. So why NOT drink?

5. This will likely stir some controversy and double standards, but since Leslie mentioned telling her mom about losing her virginity and how badly that went, when I told my mom, she just said, "Oh," and then asked me some general questions she already knew the answers to, about protection, knowing what I was getting myself into, etc. She took it very much in stride, far from the disowning behavior Les mentioned she received.

6. The first time I touched a bare boob. It was on a bus trip back from state marching band competition in November 1995. I know we weren't the only people on the bus with lust on the brain, either. Those sort of things were so common. All of Michelle's band camp stories....we did stuff that bad or worse. Usually worse.

7. In October 2003, I had four days off of work and wanted to try something crazy. So I got in my car, grabbed the atlas, and said "Where do I want to go?" I ended up in Maine. I'd never gone anywhere more than maybe 100 miles from home by myself before, and here I was, questing into NYC for the first time on my way up the coast, and almost reaching Bar Harbor, ME before turning back. Hell of a time, and it opened up my mind to the idea of getting out there and seeing the world. It's no coincidence that I moved to NYC about a year later.

8. Picking the flute as my instrument of choice for band. Some called it "gay," but I got to sit with and get to know some of the prettiest ladies in school. Now who's gay?

8a. I opted to take the piccolo part in Stars and Stripes Forever at the Pops Concert. It was with some reluctance, but I thought "What the hell, you only live once." I practiced the hell out of it but couldn't get it right. I went to the concert nervous as hell because I hadn't gotten through the solo even ONCE without mistakes. I don't know if I actually nailed it under pressure, or if I just *heard* it the way it was supposed to be. Either way, I did it. I seized the moment n stuff.

9. Nilesdance, and how it showed me that music doesn't have to play by any rules.

10. Pachelbel's Canon, and the hours I spent at the piano learning it by ear. I'd credit that song more than any other as the reason I still play the piano and write music to this day.

11. Mein Herz Brennt by Rammstein, the song that kicked my ass and gave me goosebumps.

12. Sitting next to Marissa on the bus ride to Washington, D.C. I stayed awake for 38 hours straight because I didn't want to miss a single second of being close to you, even if it just meant holding you while you slept.

13. That tripping call I made when reffing hockey. It was an iffy play, but the coaches said "Call anything that could be getting players hurt," so I did. At least the penalized team still won the game. Still, even though I was doing what the coaches told me to, I feel like I robbed that kid. She was trying to block a shot, but did it just a little too close to the shooter.

14. Even though I didn't hear it directly, all of my teachers and guidance counselors told my mom to push me harder and harder, no matter how lazy I wanted to be. It got me into AP classes and a 3.49GPA in college.

15. The first time I landed a jump or a spin while rollerblading without falling. Suddenly I felt like I could do anything.

16. It's not really a day, my entire relationship with Erin showed me the highest and lowest times I've ever known. It also showed me just how much people can change, permanently. She's never again going to be the girl I was completely nuts about back in 1999.

17. I don't want to name names, but seeing a girl walk into my room by candlelight, wearing nothing but a red g-string and heels. Holy effing shite!

18. The experience of getting to know Corrina. Every day I talk to her feels like a miracle in the making, opening my mind to some crazy new approach to the world. I didn't believe in angels till I met her.

19. My trip from New York City to Tallahassee, FL last summer. Three days, a cool uncle, a party, and a gorgeous girl. Again, it opened my mind further to just what I was capable of.

20. No fewer than 75 girls in a row rejecting me in my two last years of college. I've been meaning to just write a frickin book about that story. This stretch completely jaded me to rejection. It doesn't bother me in the least now.

21. Seeing the sunset on the Pacific Ocean back in '92.

22. Living in New York City for 7 months, meeting some wonderful people, and getting cozy with the biggest, "scariest" city in the world. Coming from a town of maybe 20k people, it was a pretty big change. NYC still feels like my second home, and I do miss that crazy place sometimes.

I could probably go on forever, but I'll stop boring you for now. Maybe tomorrow I'll expound on my various roommate experiences and the trials and traumas that come along with that. :)

This concludes my broadcast day.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Wakin' Up Is Hard To Do

Here's a way to treat yourself. On a day you would normally sleep in, set your alarm for some stupid-early hour. When it goes off, hit snooze, curl back up in your warm fuzzy blanket, roll over, and just wait for the stupid thing to go off again. Repeat as many times as necessary.

Every time I do this, I feel a little surge of victory over "the man" and that fun feeling of "YAY, I CAN GO BACK TO SLEEP!" that you don't get on work days. I enjoy these little triumphs, and going back to sleep is always easier than going to sleep in the first place, and feels so much more satisfying.

Also, if you haven't seen the Superman Returns trailer or somehow did and managed not to get psyched about it, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? Go. Watch. Enjoy.

Click here, fool.