It's very rare that you see real excellence in your life. A performance that is so breathtaking that you can't shake it from your consciousness. How often has someone scored 100 points in a professional basketball game? How often have you seen a pitcher throw a perfect game, or someone act so perfectly in a movie that it seemed like you weren't watching a movie at all. How many excellent plans work perfectly and create amazing success? How often do you see someone win all the events in American Gladiators and then go wreck the travelator for victory? How often do you read something that is just mind blowingly excellent (certainly never here)? How often do you ever see true excellence?
That's why it brings me great pleasure to relate a story of excellence the likes of which I don't believe I've ever seen before. I'm writing this about my waiter Juan last week at Chevy's Mexican Grill. When I walked in for lunch and saw that Juan would be our waiter I had reservations (double entendre!). He looked a bit scruffy, maybe a bit tired and I thought I was in for a predictably mundane restaurant experience. I wasn't prepared for the unbelievable level of waiting I was in store for, a level of excellence I have never experienced before. He was quick to get our orders and drinks and he didn't even write them down. He was concise in his questions and got our drinks quickly. We never had to ask for him to refill our chip basket because there was already a new basket waiting for us before there was any chance of it becoming an issue. Drink refills? Don't be silly. That was child's play for Juan, who masterfully brought fresh drinks before anyone had a chance to think it. Our meals came out fresh and quick and were handled directly by Juan himself who needed no assistance from any of the other wait staff. Juan brought our check with aplomb and without any flourish or prompting from us. He simply smiled, and asked, "Do you need anything else? I'll take that when you are ready. Just put it down on the table." Then he sauntered off to do his magical work elsewhere. The second my credit card hit the table he picked it up, charged it, and I was signing the tab in seconds. Oh, and he brought us new drinks before he dropped off the check for me to sign, without being asked. They must have materialized in his magical hands because the whole process couldn't have taken more then 20 seconds.
Juan, you are the golden standard by which I will judge all waiters and waitresses in the future. The story of your excellence will be passed down to my children and hopefully my children's children. If I have my way it will become a movie, "The Legend of Juan: The Golden Waiter". It will star Antonio Banderas and feature a score by John Williams, we'll get Ron Howard to direct. The story will be about a waiter who served lowly federal employees and helped cure cancer while he brought more chips, all while facing a overbearing and risk taking boss who would barely give him a chance. He also taught sick school children the joy of dance, music, and laughter. If there is a heaven and I get in, I hope all the waiters are half as good as you were. I will always remember you Juan, and although I think it is unlikely, I hope you remember me. I was the chubby guy in the business suit who gave you a 35% tip, and although that might not seem like much, I already tipped you 100% of my heart.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Bad Omens
It's strange when you have a collective moment of bad fortune with a group of people. Whether all of you break a mirror at the same time, or 5 black cats walk across the path of you and your friends all at the same time, it brings a sense of dread. It doesn't happen often, but it does happen. Today at lunch for example all three people got bad fortunes in our fortune cookie. My normal policy with fortune cookies is to keep the good fortunes to myself and not tell anyone in the hopes that it will come true. Bad fortunes I read out and leave on the table for the wait staff to clear. Strange I know but being a beuraucrat I need to have policy to deal with everything, even the occult or arcane. I think fortune cookies fall into the occult category, and wouldn't that be the coolest class ever? Occult Culinary arts? You could make a Mayan calendar cake or a Ouija board cupcakes, and then you could use frosting made from butter from a cow that was the 7th daughter of a 7th daughter of a 7th daughter!
Back to the fortune cookies however. I don't like collective signs of bad luck. I hope that nothing comes of it, but we'll just wait and see. Maybe the bad fortune will show itself when I burn my Tarot cookies! I can't wait for this Occult cooking class! What is my contingency plan for that?Also I want cake, you see the types of things I think about when I want cake. There is no cake, the cake was a lie.
Back to the fortune cookies however. I don't like collective signs of bad luck. I hope that nothing comes of it, but we'll just wait and see. Maybe the bad fortune will show itself when I burn my Tarot cookies! I can't wait for this Occult cooking class! What is my contingency plan for that?Also I want cake, you see the types of things I think about when I want cake. There is no cake, the cake was a lie.
Monday, February 25, 2008
How to lose yourself in 60 seconds
This morning I woke up of my own voliation at about 6:50. I looked at my alarm clock and it read 12:19 PM 8/31/2008. My first thought was, my god! I've inadvertantly invented time travel. My second thought was, I'm late for work because my alarm didn't go off! I looked at the clock and the alarm was set for 6:30 PM. I don't think the clock needed new batteries, but I do think that I work up and attempted to reset the alarm at some point, hence all the weird numbers. I just don't remember it. But wouldn't it be odd if I set my alarm clock to go off at 6:30 PM on 8/31/2008 at 12:19. Either that or something dire is going to happen on that date and time. Who knows, maybe I'll have a really good lunch.
After hating myself for the appropriate ammount of time I got dressed and sat down to put on my socks. I am wearing dress pants, a dress shirt and tie at this point, and I put on a pair of white socks. For a solid minute I sat there looking at my socks trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with that picture. Finally I remembered to switch to black socks. Great way to start a monday morning.
After hating myself for the appropriate ammount of time I got dressed and sat down to put on my socks. I am wearing dress pants, a dress shirt and tie at this point, and I put on a pair of white socks. For a solid minute I sat there looking at my socks trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with that picture. Finally I remembered to switch to black socks. Great way to start a monday morning.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Valentine's Folly
The following is an anecdote about my father. My father is a man of many flaws, much like his son only with less hair. Oftentimes he will shirk personal appointments and relationships to concentrate on work, also much like his son. One of his continual flaws is his inability to correctly prepare for any significant holiday or anniversary. So with Valentine's Day approaching I naturally assumed I would have to help him get a last second gift for his wife. It has happened several times in the past on Valentine's day and other day's of significance (Wife's birthday, anniversary, christmas..etc.) that he has needed me to run around and help him so he doesn't get in trouble. It doesn't always work.
I sat down with my father for lunch on Valentine's Day and to my surprise he was on the ball for the first time that I can remember. He had actually ordered flowers to be delivered to my step mother's office the day before. What he hadn't counted on was the weather, and the snow we got on the night of the 12th left enough ice that she decided to work from home. So my father's pre-planning was ruined. He was forced to go out to the store, buy some flowers, and hide them in the car over night. In the morning he woke up and placed them on the kitchen counter so that she would get them when she came downstairs. His day was saved, it was romantic and all was well right? Wrong.
He calls my stepmother when she gets to work and asked if she got the flowers he sent her the day before. She said no and had to go looking for them. She talked to 2 receptionists, the mail manager, and several other people before finding her flowers. Someone that she works with had taken the flowers off her desk, and placed them on her own desk without leaving a note for my stepmother using some half brained excuse to do so. This woman also happens to be my stepmothers rival. Take a moment to think about how a woman might feel if flowers from her husband were misappropriated by someone else without any notice left behind. Now think about it but the women are rivals. Needless to say she was upset and what had actually seemed like a pretty good plan by my father ended up backfiring through no fault of his own. Oh well, the best laid plans of mice and men. I'll tell you what though, if some bitch ever steals flowers off my desk that my man (joke!) sent me I'll fight her ass on the spot. Won't be no talking, just a good ole fashioned throwdown. I'll choke a bitch for that shit.
I sat down with my father for lunch on Valentine's Day and to my surprise he was on the ball for the first time that I can remember. He had actually ordered flowers to be delivered to my step mother's office the day before. What he hadn't counted on was the weather, and the snow we got on the night of the 12th left enough ice that she decided to work from home. So my father's pre-planning was ruined. He was forced to go out to the store, buy some flowers, and hide them in the car over night. In the morning he woke up and placed them on the kitchen counter so that she would get them when she came downstairs. His day was saved, it was romantic and all was well right? Wrong.
He calls my stepmother when she gets to work and asked if she got the flowers he sent her the day before. She said no and had to go looking for them. She talked to 2 receptionists, the mail manager, and several other people before finding her flowers. Someone that she works with had taken the flowers off her desk, and placed them on her own desk without leaving a note for my stepmother using some half brained excuse to do so. This woman also happens to be my stepmothers rival. Take a moment to think about how a woman might feel if flowers from her husband were misappropriated by someone else without any notice left behind. Now think about it but the women are rivals. Needless to say she was upset and what had actually seemed like a pretty good plan by my father ended up backfiring through no fault of his own. Oh well, the best laid plans of mice and men. I'll tell you what though, if some bitch ever steals flowers off my desk that my man (joke!) sent me I'll fight her ass on the spot. Won't be no talking, just a good ole fashioned throwdown. I'll choke a bitch for that shit.
Friday, February 15, 2008
It's part of the deal.
Part of the reason that I pay a $5 cover to get into your shitty bar that I hate is because you have a band there. A band I presumably would like to see. Now when the band decides to pull out last minute for a medical reason you can't still collect $5 from me. That's how this shit works. It would be like if you went to a bookstore for a book signing that was going to charge people $5 to see the author. But at the last minute the author pulls out and you still charge $5 for people to come into your bookstore. Fuck you and your shitty overprice overcrowded bar, it just reminded me why I don't fucking go there in the first place.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Singles Awareness Day
People have been asking me for weeks what I'm doing today (Valentine's Day or my new favorite, Singles Awareness Day). My original answer to people that I thought would deem it appropriate was, "Well, I'm going to go home, and play some music to serenade myself. Maybe cook myself a nice dinner that I'm really impressed with. Then I think I'll sit down on my hand and give myself a stranger." That probably won't fly for 90% of the people who asked so I've decided to provide a comprehensive schedule for my plans:
5:01 - Alarm goes off, I roll out of bed and do some pushups and crunches and stretch a little bit. Blindly make my way to the bathroom in total darkness. Bump my foot into the metal futon frame, curse a little bit.
5:10 - Private bathroom time, usually reserved for shaving, using the toilet, showering, plucking my eyebrows, writing my blog. Usually does not include: combing my hair, looking at my face in the mirror, brushing my teeth, not shivering (the window in my bathroom is f'd up and that keeps the temperature in there about a degree or two within the outside temperature).
5:25 - Get dressed, try to tie my tie 2-3 times, give up. Put all my various badges and gadgets in my pockets. Put on my coat.
5:36 - Begin trek to work. Walk to the metro, think about how dark and cold it is outside, complain quietly to myself about my ankle hurting. Take the metro one stop and walk to work.
6:00 - Arrive at work, get something to eat from the deli downstairs, jokingly talk with the deli owner about why I didn't get her flowers. Eat my breakfast and check all the news of the world. Review all the websites and stuff that I normally check. Answer e-mails halfheartedly.
7:00 - Start doing real work, maybe take a few phone calls and get up to use the little boys room once. Dodge any calls from my mother, she knows I get into work early so it's important to check what the number is when I get a call. If she manages to get past my rigorous screening process, "talk" to her for a bit (listen and do work while she talks, sometimes ask random questions to seem like I'm interested) then claim that I have a meeting (I don't) in five minutes so I have to go. At some point I might copy and past a blog I wrote and publish it.
11:30 - Go eat lunch, either with somebody random but probably by myself. Actually apparently I'll be having lunch with my father, I'll probably have to help him find an emergency present.
12:15 - Get back to work, check to see if there is any dire emergencies or news I missed. Continue to do my job.
3:00 - Take a walk around the office pretending to look for someone, but really just stretching my legs. May stop by someone's desk who I know is gone and ask if they are around, act disappointed when they aren't.
4:00 - Freedom! Walk back to the metro and go home! Normally it would be straight to the gym to play racquetball but since my ankle is jacked I won't do that.
4:30ish - Arrive at home, check the mail for bills. Take off my work clothes and workout.
5:30 - Get done working out and shower. Once done with shower reheat some leftovers or make myself a simple dinner. Chef Boyardee could be involved or maybe something simple with rice and vegetables in a stir fry, who knows, maybe I'll bump it up a notch and make some chili, ohlalala.
6:00 - Free time, probably spent cleaning or doing laundry (but never ever folding it), maybe go on the internet and read my home e-mail.
6:40 - Leave for the gym.
7:00 - SPIIN class, hate life for an hour and nearly kill myself. Worry about if my asscrack is showing to anyone who might be on a bike behind me. Sweat alot, and when it's done wipe down my bike and exchange pleasantries with the instructor.
8:15 - Drive home and take a shower.
8:35 - Talk with my roomates, or if they've already gone out drinking sit around and read or write or watch tv or play video games.
10:00 - Think about heading to bed, get distracted by something shiny.
11:45 - Go downstairs, stretch and do some pushups and crunches, get in bed and think about life for awhile.
2:30ish - Fall asleep, have nightmares.
I think my original explanation is more concise and humorous. Maybe I should just stick with that. It's also much less depressing. On the other hand I'm not having to spend mega dollars at dinner or on a present that will ultimately lead to my significant other being disappointed with me. Ahh Valentine's day...
5:01 - Alarm goes off, I roll out of bed and do some pushups and crunches and stretch a little bit. Blindly make my way to the bathroom in total darkness. Bump my foot into the metal futon frame, curse a little bit.
5:10 - Private bathroom time, usually reserved for shaving, using the toilet, showering, plucking my eyebrows, writing my blog. Usually does not include: combing my hair, looking at my face in the mirror, brushing my teeth, not shivering (the window in my bathroom is f'd up and that keeps the temperature in there about a degree or two within the outside temperature).
5:25 - Get dressed, try to tie my tie 2-3 times, give up. Put all my various badges and gadgets in my pockets. Put on my coat.
5:36 - Begin trek to work. Walk to the metro, think about how dark and cold it is outside, complain quietly to myself about my ankle hurting. Take the metro one stop and walk to work.
6:00 - Arrive at work, get something to eat from the deli downstairs, jokingly talk with the deli owner about why I didn't get her flowers. Eat my breakfast and check all the news of the world. Review all the websites and stuff that I normally check. Answer e-mails halfheartedly.
7:00 - Start doing real work, maybe take a few phone calls and get up to use the little boys room once. Dodge any calls from my mother, she knows I get into work early so it's important to check what the number is when I get a call. If she manages to get past my rigorous screening process, "talk" to her for a bit (listen and do work while she talks, sometimes ask random questions to seem like I'm interested) then claim that I have a meeting (I don't) in five minutes so I have to go. At some point I might copy and past a blog I wrote and publish it.
11:30 - Go eat lunch, either with somebody random but probably by myself. Actually apparently I'll be having lunch with my father, I'll probably have to help him find an emergency present.
12:15 - Get back to work, check to see if there is any dire emergencies or news I missed. Continue to do my job.
3:00 - Take a walk around the office pretending to look for someone, but really just stretching my legs. May stop by someone's desk who I know is gone and ask if they are around, act disappointed when they aren't.
4:00 - Freedom! Walk back to the metro and go home! Normally it would be straight to the gym to play racquetball but since my ankle is jacked I won't do that.
4:30ish - Arrive at home, check the mail for bills. Take off my work clothes and workout.
5:30 - Get done working out and shower. Once done with shower reheat some leftovers or make myself a simple dinner. Chef Boyardee could be involved or maybe something simple with rice and vegetables in a stir fry, who knows, maybe I'll bump it up a notch and make some chili, ohlalala.
6:00 - Free time, probably spent cleaning or doing laundry (but never ever folding it), maybe go on the internet and read my home e-mail.
6:40 - Leave for the gym.
7:00 - SPIIN class, hate life for an hour and nearly kill myself. Worry about if my asscrack is showing to anyone who might be on a bike behind me. Sweat alot, and when it's done wipe down my bike and exchange pleasantries with the instructor.
8:15 - Drive home and take a shower.
8:35 - Talk with my roomates, or if they've already gone out drinking sit around and read or write or watch tv or play video games.
10:00 - Think about heading to bed, get distracted by something shiny.
11:45 - Go downstairs, stretch and do some pushups and crunches, get in bed and think about life for awhile.
2:30ish - Fall asleep, have nightmares.
I think my original explanation is more concise and humorous. Maybe I should just stick with that. It's also much less depressing. On the other hand I'm not having to spend mega dollars at dinner or on a present that will ultimately lead to my significant other being disappointed with me. Ahh Valentine's day...
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
It finally happened.
I've been working here at the Office of Naval research for almost two and a half years. Throughout that time I've seen some pretty wacky proposals cross my desk, things that sometimes baffled me and made little sense. But I could always recognize some part of what we were trying to do with our research without having to go look it up. I've raised my eyebrows at times, such as when we were funding a team building study by watching people play Age of Empires III (a video game). I've questioned the value of our work sometimes, such as when I found out we were paying to find out the inner workings of marine mammals skulls. But I've always at least understood in some small part what it is we were trying to accomplish.
Today that changed. I have a document sitting on my desk that is so far over my head that I have no idea what it is about. It contains words like "Polydimethylsiloxane systems" and "proeinaceous glue". Neither of which I have ever seen or used in a sentence myself, "Hey Mike, I fixed my shoes using this proeinaceous glue, that stuff was great! I'm sure glad I had the Polydimethylsiloxane system to help me..." What we are doing with this money is far beyond my simpleton understanding, I think it has something to do with the environment, but don't quote me on that. I'm fully in awe of this project, and I wish very much to learn to drop these terms in casual conversation.
People ask me what I do all the time, and very rarely do I get to drop words like "Polydimethylsiloxane" or "barnacle glue protein chemistry" or even "biocides". How cool would it be if someone asked me what I did and I got to say, "Oh me? I help facilitate funds for the research of biocides, yeah no big deal, we're just doing comparisons between normal (`hard?) and gummy (`compliant?) baseplate adhesive phenotype barnacles using micro-Raman spectroscopy. No big deal."
Today that changed. I have a document sitting on my desk that is so far over my head that I have no idea what it is about. It contains words like "Polydimethylsiloxane systems" and "proeinaceous glue". Neither of which I have ever seen or used in a sentence myself, "Hey Mike, I fixed my shoes using this proeinaceous glue, that stuff was great! I'm sure glad I had the Polydimethylsiloxane system to help me..." What we are doing with this money is far beyond my simpleton understanding, I think it has something to do with the environment, but don't quote me on that. I'm fully in awe of this project, and I wish very much to learn to drop these terms in casual conversation.
People ask me what I do all the time, and very rarely do I get to drop words like "Polydimethylsiloxane" or "barnacle glue protein chemistry" or even "biocides". How cool would it be if someone asked me what I did and I got to say, "Oh me? I help facilitate funds for the research of biocides, yeah no big deal, we're just doing comparisons between normal (`hard?) and gummy (`compliant?) baseplate adhesive phenotype barnacles using micro-Raman spectroscopy. No big deal."
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Fluffy Kittens AHHHHHH!
When most people have dreams about petting a cute white kitten they don't normally react as though it were a nightmare. Luckily I'm not most people. Sunday night in the 3ish hours of "sleep" I got, I awoke several times in a frightened nervous mood from seemingly benign dreams. Nothing scary or ominous about the dreams, but I awoke as if they were nightmares of the most horrific kind. Weird right? I mean, I don't even normally have lucid dreams, most of the time I don't dream at all. But on this given night I had a series of dreams that weren't scary at all, but that didn't change my state of terror when I woke up suddenly. Maybe someone somewhere was wishing ill of me.
One of them as I mentioned involved me petting a cute kitten. The kitten was purring in my lap and I thought, wow this is a nice dream, what a delightful encounter. This kitten was no doubt eating my very soul! Preparing to rend me with his really sharp kitten claws and then run around at night when I'm sleeping (kittens night run). In one of them I was eating dinner at a nice restaurant, nothing odd about it, but I still woke up as if I was being chased by the devil himself in my dream. Looking back on it I'm sure that the restaurant must have been serving food for the damned, otherwise why would I have awoken with such bad thoughts? Lastly I was driving a car, nothing special about the car as far as I could tell. I wasn't about to get in an accident or hit someone. But when I shot up from my pillow I was as scared as I've ever been. I think now that the car must have been talking to me and calling me Michael and I had sweet hair.
I'm sure there is a simple explanation. I know one of my roomate was waking up with nightmares when I was, both because I could hear him wake up at the same time as me, and because we talked about it the day after. The wind was also going nuts all night and I'm sure that produced some loud noises that woke me. But now I'm afraid to dream at all, what if all of my calm dreams make me awake in fear? I don't want regular dreams…what if I wake up afraid from a lovemaking dream with the love of my life? I don't want that. Bring on the nightmares, the terribly odd dreams about me being chased or something. Then I'll wake up dependably shaken. Nothing like consistency to calm yourself. Forget these benign simple cute dreams, christ those are scary, give me all the fear I can handle, that way I understand why I woke up scared. Also beware of cute kittens, as they are likely the harbingers of dooooooom.
One of them as I mentioned involved me petting a cute kitten. The kitten was purring in my lap and I thought, wow this is a nice dream, what a delightful encounter. This kitten was no doubt eating my very soul! Preparing to rend me with his really sharp kitten claws and then run around at night when I'm sleeping (kittens night run). In one of them I was eating dinner at a nice restaurant, nothing odd about it, but I still woke up as if I was being chased by the devil himself in my dream. Looking back on it I'm sure that the restaurant must have been serving food for the damned, otherwise why would I have awoken with such bad thoughts? Lastly I was driving a car, nothing special about the car as far as I could tell. I wasn't about to get in an accident or hit someone. But when I shot up from my pillow I was as scared as I've ever been. I think now that the car must have been talking to me and calling me Michael and I had sweet hair.
I'm sure there is a simple explanation. I know one of my roomate was waking up with nightmares when I was, both because I could hear him wake up at the same time as me, and because we talked about it the day after. The wind was also going nuts all night and I'm sure that produced some loud noises that woke me. But now I'm afraid to dream at all, what if all of my calm dreams make me awake in fear? I don't want regular dreams…what if I wake up afraid from a lovemaking dream with the love of my life? I don't want that. Bring on the nightmares, the terribly odd dreams about me being chased or something. Then I'll wake up dependably shaken. Nothing like consistency to calm yourself. Forget these benign simple cute dreams, christ those are scary, give me all the fear I can handle, that way I understand why I woke up scared. Also beware of cute kittens, as they are likely the harbingers of dooooooom.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
I wish I was a bear
Did you ever feel like you wanted to just hibernate? Just fall asleep for a couple months and let all the weariness of your body and taxes on your spirit just drain away? How cool would that be? You'd wake up with a month or so of rest and you could take on the world with your newfound reserves of energy.
I mean you would have to get rid of the bedhead you would have sustained while in hibernation but after 4 minutes of fixing your hair, a quick shower, and maybe a shave you would be ready to go punch out the sun. But you will have to pick out something to wear. After all you want to make a positive impression with your newfound cache of rest because you don't want people to think that you are some kind of bum who sleeps for months at a time. So you need to spend some time thinking about what you are going to wear, who is going to see you? Do you need to impress them? What kind of impression do you want to make, and is it possible to offend people by being too formal? But once you decide what you are going to wear you are ready to go and nothing is going to stop you!
Except for that nagging pain in your stomach! You haven't eaten in a couple months and your stomach is all rumbly and you don't function well on an empty stomach, so you need to get something to eat before you solve all the world's problems. You need to decide what and where to eat. I mean you could go out and get food and come home and make it but that might sap some of the energy you had plus you feel refreshed so you kind of want to have a really great meal that doesn't take a bunch of your time to make. Ahh but then you'd have to go out to a nice restaurant and spend a bunch of money and you haven't been working while you were hibernating so you are a little low on funds. If you go out you need to decide where to go, what kind of food do you want? I mean it's been months since you last ate, and all your favorites are calling. Decisions decisions...
So you get something to eat, and now you are ready to fight evil and carve out your place in the world! They'll be singing your praises in no time, glory be to you with all this energy, nothing is going to stop you! But then you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, oh god, you haven't been to the gym in months. You are a skinny pasty wimp and all the muscle and cardio work you did before your big nap has gone away. Geez you need to hit the gym, hard, because not only do you care about your health but you don't want to spend extra energy because you are out of shape. You will have to spend energy to work out but it will be ok because it is just a little energy and it will pay dividends later.
But you are at the gym and you realize that you have no idea what is going on in the world. New music is playing on the radio, pundits are talking about what's going on and you don't have a clue. Did your clothes go out of fashion? How did your favorite sports team do and what were the major stories that you might have missed out on? What television shows or movies should you have seen? What happened to all your favorite celebrities and were there any major disasters you should know about (note: death of a favorite celebrity would be a disaster, you will need time to cope)? So may things you need to learn about since you've been out of touch, so after the gym you'll have to go home and learn that stuff quickly so that you don't seem like a dolt when people talk to you. But once you do that you'll be ready to go, and there's no telling what the limits of your energy will bring.
When you get home you realize you haven't been keeping up on your correspondence. You have 5201 voice messages and over 1 million e-mails you need to sift through. Not to mention all the text messages and mail you've received. You'll need to catch up on all that stuff after you learn about the current events. But you can spend a couple hours doing that and then you will be ready to...go to sleep.
It's been a long day, you had to wake up and groom yourself and eat and go to the gym and read the newspaper and all your favorite blogs and such. Then you had to catch up on all your mail, your e-mail, all the social things that you neglected while you were asleep. After all that you are pretty tired, but that's ok you can go to sleep and wake up and finish the things that you didn't have time to do today, and then you are ready to change the way people think on this planet with your energy. But you have to get a job to pay for next year's hibernation and that's not going to be cheap so you will have to work really hard, and rarely do working hard for money and changing the world go hand in hand. But after you work hard you will be ready to hibernate again and once you wake up from that you will have all kinds of energy to do the things you want. Just as soon as you get something to eat and go to the gym and etc etc.
Hibernating is way more involved then I thought, in fact it sounds like a lot of work. Man I'm going to be so tired after I hibernate, I'm going to need to take a nap.
I mean you would have to get rid of the bedhead you would have sustained while in hibernation but after 4 minutes of fixing your hair, a quick shower, and maybe a shave you would be ready to go punch out the sun. But you will have to pick out something to wear. After all you want to make a positive impression with your newfound cache of rest because you don't want people to think that you are some kind of bum who sleeps for months at a time. So you need to spend some time thinking about what you are going to wear, who is going to see you? Do you need to impress them? What kind of impression do you want to make, and is it possible to offend people by being too formal? But once you decide what you are going to wear you are ready to go and nothing is going to stop you!
Except for that nagging pain in your stomach! You haven't eaten in a couple months and your stomach is all rumbly and you don't function well on an empty stomach, so you need to get something to eat before you solve all the world's problems. You need to decide what and where to eat. I mean you could go out and get food and come home and make it but that might sap some of the energy you had plus you feel refreshed so you kind of want to have a really great meal that doesn't take a bunch of your time to make. Ahh but then you'd have to go out to a nice restaurant and spend a bunch of money and you haven't been working while you were hibernating so you are a little low on funds. If you go out you need to decide where to go, what kind of food do you want? I mean it's been months since you last ate, and all your favorites are calling. Decisions decisions...
So you get something to eat, and now you are ready to fight evil and carve out your place in the world! They'll be singing your praises in no time, glory be to you with all this energy, nothing is going to stop you! But then you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, oh god, you haven't been to the gym in months. You are a skinny pasty wimp and all the muscle and cardio work you did before your big nap has gone away. Geez you need to hit the gym, hard, because not only do you care about your health but you don't want to spend extra energy because you are out of shape. You will have to spend energy to work out but it will be ok because it is just a little energy and it will pay dividends later.
But you are at the gym and you realize that you have no idea what is going on in the world. New music is playing on the radio, pundits are talking about what's going on and you don't have a clue. Did your clothes go out of fashion? How did your favorite sports team do and what were the major stories that you might have missed out on? What television shows or movies should you have seen? What happened to all your favorite celebrities and were there any major disasters you should know about (note: death of a favorite celebrity would be a disaster, you will need time to cope)? So may things you need to learn about since you've been out of touch, so after the gym you'll have to go home and learn that stuff quickly so that you don't seem like a dolt when people talk to you. But once you do that you'll be ready to go, and there's no telling what the limits of your energy will bring.
When you get home you realize you haven't been keeping up on your correspondence. You have 5201 voice messages and over 1 million e-mails you need to sift through. Not to mention all the text messages and mail you've received. You'll need to catch up on all that stuff after you learn about the current events. But you can spend a couple hours doing that and then you will be ready to...go to sleep.
It's been a long day, you had to wake up and groom yourself and eat and go to the gym and read the newspaper and all your favorite blogs and such. Then you had to catch up on all your mail, your e-mail, all the social things that you neglected while you were asleep. After all that you are pretty tired, but that's ok you can go to sleep and wake up and finish the things that you didn't have time to do today, and then you are ready to change the way people think on this planet with your energy. But you have to get a job to pay for next year's hibernation and that's not going to be cheap so you will have to work really hard, and rarely do working hard for money and changing the world go hand in hand. But after you work hard you will be ready to hibernate again and once you wake up from that you will have all kinds of energy to do the things you want. Just as soon as you get something to eat and go to the gym and etc etc.
Hibernating is way more involved then I thought, in fact it sounds like a lot of work. Man I'm going to be so tired after I hibernate, I'm going to need to take a nap.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
I'll work for peanuts
Have you ever been given or seen a tin of deluxe super expensive peanuts? The gourmet kind that are absurdly priced and when you receive them you smile and nod but the whole time you are thinking how much you really needed another pair of socks instead? Well if you've ever been allowed to opportunity to consume some of the high-end uber peanuts you will discover, as I have over the years, that they are often bland, tasteless, and altogether unappetizing. Whereas your run of the mill ballpark peanut is filled with flavor, a zesty fullness, and character wrought from the cruel lessons of the street. A hard living, fast moving peanut is the nut for me man, as I let my tie flow freely in the wind atop a sense of self satisfaction garnered from my own superiority complex while my close cut hair remains matted. The tin of peanuts you can buy at any convenience store in the country tastes better than the gourmet peanuts that the lower class such as myself cannot afford.
But this is true at many levels, where a less expensive and more readily available confections are better to the palate then their haughty overpriced brothers. Ballpark nachos are often far more fulfilling then your high priced restaurant equivalent. Or maybe it's that my tastes aren't as sophisticated as my social and economic betters. Perhaps my lowbrow preference distinguishes my ignorance from that of your average peanut gallery (a group of knowledgeable peanut connoisseurs, I bet you've never seen that term used this way). What can I say, ignorance in this matter is perhaps bliss, my desire for peanuts only goes so far. I don't sit around in a room with other hobbyists sampling the latest and greatest crop of deluxe peanuts. I'm afraid I don't have the patience to divine what years were best for peanuts, "My good man, '83 was undoubtedly the pinnacle of peanut perfection, never again will we see vintage gourmet peanuts like that again! Now if you'll excuse me I have to go have my moustache waxed while my Rolls Royce is buffed to a fine sheen."
You know what? I'm glad that I prefer your ordinary run of the mill cheap peanut. It saves me money on the rare occasions that I desire to consume such things. Hell I might just go out and buy some of those honey crunch peanuts..."Why Reginald, flavored peanuts? I must say such a thing is most uncouth and unsightly. Your impudence will be the end of you, you'll be the laughing stock of the peanut ball if you are allowed in at all...flavored peanuts...well I never!" All I know is that I'd have to pretend really hard to notice the difference between one gourmet peanuts which sucks, and another. I guess I should cancel my subscription to Peanut Fancy, and Groundnut Enthusiast, and Legume Quarterly. My counter-culture peanut stance is what keeps me on the edge of the highbrow peanut loving crowd. Which is why I guess I never get invited to fancy parties. "Oh God! It's Marty! He has such dreadful taste in snack peanuts, I can't believe they let his type in here. Darling get my coat, I won't stand to be in the company of such a Neanderthal." I guess I'll never get to the peanut ball…if only there was a peanut fairy godmother…sigh.
But this is true at many levels, where a less expensive and more readily available confections are better to the palate then their haughty overpriced brothers. Ballpark nachos are often far more fulfilling then your high priced restaurant equivalent. Or maybe it's that my tastes aren't as sophisticated as my social and economic betters. Perhaps my lowbrow preference distinguishes my ignorance from that of your average peanut gallery (a group of knowledgeable peanut connoisseurs, I bet you've never seen that term used this way). What can I say, ignorance in this matter is perhaps bliss, my desire for peanuts only goes so far. I don't sit around in a room with other hobbyists sampling the latest and greatest crop of deluxe peanuts. I'm afraid I don't have the patience to divine what years were best for peanuts, "My good man, '83 was undoubtedly the pinnacle of peanut perfection, never again will we see vintage gourmet peanuts like that again! Now if you'll excuse me I have to go have my moustache waxed while my Rolls Royce is buffed to a fine sheen."
You know what? I'm glad that I prefer your ordinary run of the mill cheap peanut. It saves me money on the rare occasions that I desire to consume such things. Hell I might just go out and buy some of those honey crunch peanuts..."Why Reginald, flavored peanuts? I must say such a thing is most uncouth and unsightly. Your impudence will be the end of you, you'll be the laughing stock of the peanut ball if you are allowed in at all...flavored peanuts...well I never!" All I know is that I'd have to pretend really hard to notice the difference between one gourmet peanuts which sucks, and another. I guess I should cancel my subscription to Peanut Fancy, and Groundnut Enthusiast, and Legume Quarterly. My counter-culture peanut stance is what keeps me on the edge of the highbrow peanut loving crowd. Which is why I guess I never get invited to fancy parties. "Oh God! It's Marty! He has such dreadful taste in snack peanuts, I can't believe they let his type in here. Darling get my coat, I won't stand to be in the company of such a Neanderthal." I guess I'll never get to the peanut ball…if only there was a peanut fairy godmother…sigh.
Paying attention
We had a staff meeting yesterday, I thought the subjects we talked about were so important that I did a ink drawing of a sailboat. I thought it looked pretty good. I scanned it and it didn't look as good but here's a copy of my sailboat:
It looks better unscanned, trust me. Also I shouldn't have drawn the clouds, they look terrible and I feel great shame. I didn't originally intend to draw a sailboat. I just started drawing a shape and it turned into the hull of a ship. Then it slowly turned into a poorly drawn horribly malformed sailboat. Oh God what have I done! I was not meant to create visual art! Last week I drew a plant during a training session, it has since jumped off my desk and into the shredder to spare anyone who might accidently look at it! What was I thinking for those sails by the way, and the top of the mast? People are going to see this and wonder if I've ever even seen a sailboat before. "Oh look honey, that stupid man is trying to draw something that was described to him in a book once. Let us mock him and tell him that he smells funny."
I guess I should probably be more attentive in meetings...Probably doesn't reflect well on me that I'm "making art" while discussing financial management.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Political Pleasantries
In honor of super tuesday I have decided to write something about politics, this is a tale of my most recent humorous encounter with political values. Saturday I was in a chat channel with three friends. One we will call Olive, who is a devout democrat and has worked as an intern for one of the longstanding traditional senate democrats, also dislikes most of the republican candidates outwardly. One we will call Vandalay, a perennial ball buster and jokester supreme, he lives in NY and I think he leans to the left. One who we will call Inter, a staunch Republican. Lastly myself, political preference ????
I will try to recreate the chatlog that had myself and Inter rolling in laughter.
Vandalay: So marty you will be voting for Ron Paul?
Me: Not sure yet! Who knows who I will vote for. I'm guessing you will be voting Clinton in 2008?
Vandalay: Fuck you.
Vandalay: I get to vote in the primary before all of you, that means I'm more important.
Inter: Grats
Me: Good for you
Olive: That's nice, who you gonna vote for?
Vandalay: I don't know, I was thinking...
Vandalay: Mike Huckabee
Olive: Bye
**olive signs off**
Me: Holy shit, that's awesome.
Inter: Wow, just wow.
Vandalay: Nice touch don't you think?
Out of context it doesn't seem as funny, but watching my friend sign off in anger immediately following Vandalay's joke made me laugh for about 10 minutes. Until I heard my roomate put a hole in the wall upstairs.
I will try to recreate the chatlog that had myself and Inter rolling in laughter.
Vandalay: So marty you will be voting for Ron Paul?
Me: Not sure yet! Who knows who I will vote for. I'm guessing you will be voting Clinton in 2008?
Vandalay: Fuck you.
Vandalay: I get to vote in the primary before all of you, that means I'm more important.
Inter: Grats
Me: Good for you
Olive: That's nice, who you gonna vote for?
Vandalay: I don't know, I was thinking...
Vandalay: Mike Huckabee
Olive: Bye
**olive signs off**
Me: Holy shit, that's awesome.
Inter: Wow, just wow.
Vandalay: Nice touch don't you think?
Out of context it doesn't seem as funny, but watching my friend sign off in anger immediately following Vandalay's joke made me laugh for about 10 minutes. Until I heard my roomate put a hole in the wall upstairs.
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