If I were a horse...

They'd have taken me out back and shot me a long time ago. Knee injuries, shoulder problems, hand issues, turned ankles, all around gimpiness. The latest in a series of injuries is a bad ankle sprain that has sidelined me from doing basically anything. I wish I could say that I rolled my ankle doing something amazing on the racquetball court, but actually I was just resetting my feet when my left ankle turned and popped. It was fun trust me. So in a heartbeat there goes all the fun, no racquetball, no tennis, no hiking, no dancing, no working out my legs, no moonlight walks. At this point someone with a shotgun, and a degree in horse husbandry or veterinary sciences would take one look at me, pat my head, and shoot me. Maybe if they were feeling nice they would feed me a carrot or some oats first.

Most people wouldn't be that broken up by it, because after all there's still the car to use. Sadly my car needs a new wheel, so like its owner it is having trouble getting around. So this morning I had to ride my bike to work. It was easy and nice. But no doubt when I go downstairs I'll have a flat tire, or someone will have stolen my front wheel, or I'll have a broken chain. Sigh, I guess things can only look up right? Oh yes, it's supposed to rain this afternoon, at the time I am going home. At least I like the rain.

Judgment Day is Upon Us

I was casually sitting at home watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (the 1990 movie) with my roommate when a commercial came on. Now normally I wouldn't pay one lick of attention to a commercial but what caught my eye was the bright purple shirt that the person pitching men's cologne in this ad was wearing. In fact he was wearing two purple shirts...and some people might have recognized him as recording artist Usher. Apparently Usher is now pushing his own line of beauty products, which is odd to say the least, because I don't normally associate hip-hop artists with delightful fragrances. But why on earth would he be wearing a bright purple shirt, much less two? In fact he's wearing a light pink/purple collared shit underneath a bright purple sweater, which is almost worse in a way. Does Usher hate selling music? If you want to see the ad in question, here's a link to the google search I did.

That's right, the key words used in that google search are, "Usher fragrance commercial martha stewart" Which brings me to my next point, why would Usher want to associate with Martha Stewart in any way shape or form and much less to be spokespeople for Macy's. I mean I understand Martha Stewart knowing hip hop artists, she did some time in jail after all. But why would Usher be eager to be seen in a Macy's commercial with her while wearing a pink undershirt and a bright purple v-neck sweater. There's only one conclusion I can draw about him, and I'm not going to say it, but it rhymes with roofter, or hag, or slowmosexual. Which isn't a problem per se, but it kinda changes the meaning of all of the love songs he's put out. It certainly jeapardizes any and all of his credibility with some hip hop fans.

After being shocked by that, I continued to watch the Teenage Mutant Ninja Marketing movie. And to my surprise there were parts edited out for viewer content. I'm amazed that this movie, which I watched and owned as a child (first movie I ever bought by myself), now had parts that were deemed unfit for TV. Which is confusing to me because my parents had no problems letting me go see this movie. But they steadfastly held on to their belief that I shouldn't watch the Simpsons because it would corrupt my fragile little mind. What they allow in TV shows now is way more crazy and graphic then they allowed when I was a kid. Case-in-point is the A-Team, nobody ever got shot in that show, now you can't turn on a kid's show without watching someone get maimed. Apparently censoring has gone all silly, old movies allowed more in PG then they do now, and old cartoon shows allow less in children's viewing then they do now. All I know is I've got my tinfoil hat on and I'm ready for Martha Stewart to kick down my door with Usher!

Gnar Gnar...

This insidious little piece of slang was passed into my consciousness recently and I must say, I hate it. "Gnar gnar" is apparently a different way of saying gnarly, yes that's right, gnarly. As in, "Whoa that was totally tubular the way you boffed that gnarly wave!" Well now apparently the slang for gnarly would for some reason sound dumber to say, and actually be longer to write. It's like adding baby talk into your adjectives for no reason. "Did you see the goo goo gaa gaa way they dressed up that pig? It was really gnar gnar."



It sounds dumb, it looks even sillier when you actually write it down, and the odds of someone taking you seriously when you use it are astronomically gnar gnar. I hope that this phrase doesn't catch hold in the circles I run in or I might have to surf elsewhere (wait what? I don't surf at all...or run in circles).

Speaking of which, these pants I'm wearing today are absolutely the definition of gnar gnar. They are tailored differently then any pair of trousers I've ever owned. They accentuate my hips and butt in a way you don't see in most men's slacks, and depending on your opinion of my hips and butt that could be a good or gnar gnar thing. The really disconcerting thing is that there is no left back pocket on these pants. That may seem minor but I don't think I've ever seen a pair of dress pants that didn't have two pockets in the back. It feels weird but sexy and mysterious. "Hey bud, want to know a secret? I don't have a back pocket on these things!" It's like the secret nobody wants to know or doesn't care about. Also, because I think about my pants like this, and how I should workout to make my legs look better in pants, it justifies my argument as to how I'm not metrosexual which some other people seem to imply. So there, now I'm off to go file my nails in the gnar gnar style that is the custom of this time.

Damn Hippies

So normally on a Tuesday I get off work, walk to the gym, and play racquetball until I can't move and then workout go home, workout some more, shower, eat and then cry for the rest of the night. But today I was supposed to have an interview in the afternoon. So I didn't pack my racquet and I don't have any gym clothes because I figured that I wouldn't have any time for the gym after my interview. I'm wearing a nice interview suit, and I was going to get to miss the staff meeting this afternoon. However, I called the guy I was going to talk to this afternoon and he told me, "Oh shoot, I thought it was on Wed. Can you do tomorrow?" I obliged but I'm a little sore about it.

I wanted to play racquetball and work out today, but I don't have my damn stuff. In addition, I don't like hanging up my suit and having to wear it home after the gym (go figure nice suits don't like being sweat on). Normally all of this could be rectified if I just went home, got changed and drove to the gym. But wait! My car is out of operation because of the railing I hit on Friday (more on that later). So in order to make this all work, I would have to take the metro home, get changed, take the metro to the gym, work out, then go home on the metro again, albeit a bit more sweaty this time. And I would probably miss most of the racquetball time because of the scheduleling. UGH!

This may sound odd but I really get upset when I miss a workout for dumb reasons, in this case a scheduling error. I can kind of duplicate my racquetball workout by riding my bike, and I can do most of the other gym exercises with stuff I have at home. But it won't be the same, it's like substituting side orders at a restaurant, sure you can substitute fries for coleslaw, but it's not the same thing. Sure you can substitute jerking off for making love, but it's not the same thing. On top of all of this, I now have to compromise my workout for Wed. as well...I am so not happy about this! Also, I wish I got to skip the staff meeting...and now I have to go :(

Edit- Oh yeah and apparently when I was squeezing by some workmen this morning the metal replacement part tore a small hole in my new suit pants...

How Nivea ruined my life

I'm a pretty simple guy when it comes to hygiene products. I use one kind of soap, and I know I'm supposed to use it because is says "SOAP" in big letters on the side of the box and in smaller print it says skin cleansing body soap, not really much ambiguity. I mean, I've got a body and on that body is skin that needs to be clean, so it's pretty straightforward. I use one brand of de-odorant because it is simple and says, "Long lasting pure sport" on the side and has a picture of a ship. I think there is another kind but I don't try it because long ago I flipped a coin and this has worked ever since. It is intuitive and easy to follow which is great because if it was any more complicated I wouldn't be able to figure it out, apply here, don't smell, rejoice. I mean, yes there are two kinds of this de-odorant but even so that whole debacle was decided by a coin flip and I've never looked back. The same is true for all of my hygiene products.

Well, recently I ran out of facial wash. I had used Nivea's (tm) Face Wash for Men. Again not really much to be confused about so long as the following applied to me:
1) I am a man; check
2) I have a face; check
3) If #2 is true, then do you need to wash your face; check
With all three things in order I knew that I should apply face wash to my soiled face to improve conditions. Well, after running out of my latest tube (I didn't know whether to call it a tube or a bottle because it runs somewhere in between, not quite a tube not quite a bottle, and I think calling it a "thing of face wash" was too general so I flipped a coin) I went to the store to pick out a new tube. When I arrived at the face wash section, I was horrified but what lay before me. Instead of having one all purpose facial wash, Nivea had decided to make 4 different kinds of facial wash (soft skin, normal to dry skin, normal to oily skin, and some other monstrosity that scared me) and had discontinued the very simple, very likeable "Face Wash for Men".

Well what the hell was I going to do? I'm not qualified to make some kind of judgment as to the quality or type of my skin. I'm not some kind of dermatologist, who goes around judging other people's skin. My thought process goes so far as to identify, in most cases, somebody's sex. I never go so far as to categorize their skin into one of several different flavors. My friends and I don't walk through public places and go, "Man, did you see that chick's skin, it was totally normal to dry!" I also didn't want to go see a doctor, since you can imagine how intelligent I might feel during that conversation:
"So Marty What brings you here today?"
"Well doc it's kind of embarrassing, I'm not sure I want to talk about it. it might be a waste of your time."
"Oh it's alright, there is complete confidentiality!"
"Ok well, I was wondering what you would qualify my skin as, 1-4?"
"Get out of my office right now you imbecile, and may god have mercy on your heathen soul!"

I couldn't just flip a coin either, there are four choices here, what was I going to do, have a mini coin flipping tournament to decide the winner? I could see the police write-up now, "Defendant was caught being really weird and creepy in a CVS. According to witnesses he was playing with a coin and jumping in the air yelling (I get really excited about coin flips)" I also wasn't about to go home, find a four-sided dice and bring it back and decide my face wash Dungeon's and Dragon's style. Because what if I chose poorly? With two choices it's pretty easy. You pick heads or tails and then try the other one if the first doesn't work. But with four choices it's an entirely different ball game, I could try one, fail, and still have three other choices, and they don't make 3 sided dice.

So without any options I ran from the store, scared and confused about this terrible chain of events. I had a fear in my heart, not because I desperately needed face wash, but because what if the other products I used decided to do this to me. My entire nice neat little world of hygiene products would be destroyed and I'd be left in an aisle of a store crying to myself in a little ball.

With certain resolve and a plan I tricked a female co-worker to come with me to purchase face wash after I bought her lunch. She was able to quickly and decisively pick a face wash that suited my needs (see questions 1-3). Crisis averted, for now. But here's the problem, I only have so many female co-workers/friends that can help me decide when faced with this kind of dilemma. I wouldn't want to impose on one every time this might happen. Eventually the number of choices will overrun the number of female experts that can help me with these problems, and asking another guy doesn't seem like a great solution. So either I'm going to have to hope that a day never comes when all of the simple products I use split up into complex choices (and picking between 8 different kinds of soap is a fate worse then death), or educate myself about all these products and how the differences might affect me (an unlikely choice given my preferences and the fact that I don't like the metro-sexual life style), or I will have to stop using the products all together. Please be the first one, I'm hoping really hard!

Funtastic

The weekend before last I managed to drag myself to two (2) separate social occasions on Saturday. The first was a barbecue with my friend Jim and his gf Sara, I was the only single person there and there were also several small children. I met Jim and Sara through kickball and they are very nice people, also the food spread at this barbecue was amazing. Later in the evening I rode my bike to my friend Rooster's house, where he had a huge party that included several of my friends playing in a band. There were lots of people at the party, including plenty of what I assume were single women. Obviously it's a no brainer on which of these events I had more fun at right?

The band party was cool and all, and I appreciate Rooster inviting me and throwing such a big rager. It really was a great house party, there's no denying that. The band sounded great, and they are 100% of the reason I even went. It was nice to see my friends hard work pay off since they are at band practice all the time. And to be honest they sounded better then all of the cover bands I've seen in the DC area in the last two years. But other then the band my interest in that party was virtually none. I didn't feel like drinking, I had little or no desire to talk to any of the women there, and all in all there wasn't much for me there when I got done hearing the band play, so I left. And I felt like a huge loser afterwards, kinda like that guy who always sat by himself in the lunch room, and then played by himself at recess...I guess I just enjoy playing with myself...wait a minute.

What's weird is that not too long ago I would have jumped at the chance to go to a party like that. In fact I'd have been there with a lampshade on my head and would have made an attempt to be the life of the party. But this time I didn't feel like any of that, and it's been that way for awhile. I've either been steering clear of those kind of social situations or I've been going, saying hi to a couple folks, and leaving early to go sulk at home. I feel like maybe I've lost some of my zest for life perhaps. I mean Saturday nights are for parties right? I should be getting down and having fun like I used to, trying to pick up girls etc... I just don't feel it anymore, and I don't think I have for quite some time now.

Jim and Sara's on the other hand was delightful. Nice conversation, pleasant afternoon weather, and a group of couples that were extremely affable. The only issue was that I felt out of place there as well, being the only single guy I got to meet plenty of married couples and also those that were engaged. I felt like I also should have had a significant other there, someone to introduce to people. Instead it was like, "Hi I'm Marty and this is my umm...favorite pair of shoes." I had a great time, but at the end of it I felt a bit empty, as if I was just kind of a third wheel of the entire party. But despite that feeling I still had a great time, and looking back on it I'm shocked at how much more I enjoyed the barbecue than the house party later in the evening.

It's the first thing to go...

So I got up from my desk today to go tell my boss something important. And in the ten feet between my desk and her office I forgot what I was going to tell her. There I was standing dumbfounded with my hand in the air about to knock on her door to get her attention and I had no idea why I was there. I sat there for about 10 seconds like a slack jawed idiot and finally I turned around and fled to my desk. Also, I don't think I'm wearing matching socks.

Why the rush?

So today I found myself being incredibly impatient with people. As soon as I got out of work I had to rush to the gym, on the way there I was upset that people were walking slowly on the sidewalk, and I walked quickly past them with disdain. I didn't even enjoy the nice day outside because I was in such a rush. There were also some good looking women on the walk to the gym, goodness knows I was far to busy hustling to the gym to observe much.

When I got to the gym I was peeved that I had to wait behind an elderly gentleman descending the stairs slower then I would have liked. I guess it was just that urgent that I began my workout and I couldn't even show a little bit of patience for father time just trying to limp his way down the stairs. When my friend of all people was occupying the piece of equipment I wanted halfway through the workout, I tried to hurry him along, again no apparent reason why I felt the need to hurry. In fact I called him a sissy and told him to do the lift correctly.

On the way home I moved in front of people, telling them, "Excuse me" on the escalator on the way into the metro. I couldn't just sit still and wait an extra 5 seconds to reach the bottom. When I got off the metro I had to rush past everyone so I could get home faster. I probably bumped someone and didn't even know it, I certainly didn't apologize to anyone I might have bumped. But on the long walk home I got to thinking, what the hell is my problem.

I didn't have anyone waiting at home for me, no kids, no wife, no girlfriend, no fiance, no nothing. I wasn't expecting any urgent news or some kind of message I had waiting for me. I didn't have to do anything tonight, no plans, no date, no meeting. So intent was I with rushing around this afternoon that I would have pushed my own grandmother down some stairs just to get home a little quicker. But why? There's nothing on TV I wanted to watch, I wasn't hungry or tired, there's not some video game I want to play or a book I want to read. So now I'm left with a profound feeling of disappointment in myself, disappointment in my behavior and my attitude. And what's worse, I'm bored because I have so much time on my hands. There's nothing to do tonight, nothing at all in the world. And all I could do was blow past people like I'm some man on a mission to go somewhere. Guess I'm just that kind of jerk and it makes me feel really stupid that I had to be so pushy.

Mutiny!

With the supplies of fresh water and food running low, there were murmurings from the crew concerning management of ship. Sensing that my time as Captain was nearing an end, I tried a last ditch ploy to win the crew over. Unfortunately my suggestion of mini-golf didn't go over as well as I had thought, and my attempt to prove my superiority in all things by defeating the crew in a round of putt putt failed. Apparently just because you are good at mini-golf doesn't mean that you are good at running a ship. Thus I was forced to return to Northern Virginia, away from the place I called home for a week. Tis a much harsher world here, and instead of lounging on the beach, I am forced to do laundry and clean my house. Instead of dining on the finest of seafood I am relegated to hot dogs, and whatever else we stuck in the deep fryer...At the end of it all I feel no more refreshed then I did before I went on vacation. I blame it solely on someones inability to put away their blackberry. And on my own inability to clear my mind of all the evils of government budgeting and financial management.

The worst part is that since it is now past labor day, my summer of going to work without a tie on has ended. Now it is necessary to feel as though a weak midget is strangling me all day long. Not because he wants me to die, but because he wants me to feel uncomfortable. Damn you midget, and your assorted colors both matching and unmatching of my shirts...Because even though I own 20 ties or so, it always only feels like it's appropriate to wear 5 of them. Guess it's time to work in the old Spongebob Squarepants tie, in an attempt to add color and humor back into a world that is oftentimes devoid of it.