A day to day account of life and the responses it elicits.
My calculations show that a person might see 25 leap years in their lifetime. I have spent the day trying to make this one count. I got nothing except a birthday celebration. A toast to the man, the myth and the legend, remember, “When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.” –old Indian proverb
Speaking of tree dwelling animals i don't feel the word "marsupial" is used enough these days. Those who know me might say i have a "flare for drama." Actually, at times, it can be a raging bon fire of momentary bliss. My life as of late has lacked in its drama department, so i am taking it upon myself to insert a touch whenever i can. Today, for instance, on the subway i sat next to a woman who did not believe in bathing. Fortunately she was somewhat self conscience and thus drained a bottle of imitation musk. Yes imitation musk. I started coughing loudly and disruptively until the entire rush hour commute was spent with me lounging on my very own bench. I didn't realize how much of my time i spent worrying about stuff. Not necessarily important stuff either money, food, satisfaction with life, toothbrushes and germs. The money situation is ok now, i just finished dinner, i'm not sure i will ever be satisfied with life so i gave up, i just got a new toothbrush and i now carry hand sanitizer. As i said before it has left me pondering things i have glazed over before. Like marsupials. I think i would like one as a pet. Or when did fire trucks change color? Why is my furnace still broken? oh yeah, the furnace guy stood me up. again. Life is funny like that. So yeah that monkey in the tree next to the koala (yet another under used word) he was on my back and i now don't quite know what to do without him.
There is a lot to talk about today. It's hard to pick there is President Bush's amendment urging, that Passion movie or even this guy. Since blogdom is filled with editorials on today's events so i will only make one quick observation. I heard a reporter on the radio today say that the movie's rating should be changed to NC-17 instead of R. Apparently the crucifixion of Christ is right up there with Debbie does Dallas
Lament, i must lament. For those tired of my consistent complaining stop. here. Monday has barred its ugly teeth and made me hate the start of the week. To vent the early week frustrations i head to the gym for a hearty workout. I arrive at the aformentioned place of workouts and am forced to park approximately 1.3 miles away. The air inside is hot and thick with the smell of burning calories. I find an empty weight bench and sprint, hurdle, tuck-and-roll my way to commence. i get in one set, one set and i see him coming. Avoid eye contact, no don't say hi, look busy. crap. He is a big man, not fat necessarily, just present. "can i rotate in?" now usually this isn't a problem. Unspoken gym etiquette allows anyone to work-in and share quietly, but he wants to talk. i am always entertained at how men introduce themselves. It goes something like this:
So, i got a new phone. I don't consider myself to be technically inapt...until now. This phone can do more than my very own personal computer. I spent Saturday programming the voice activated calling option thingy. I had a blast, developing cleaver names you can yell at your phone to reach those you love the most. Brilliant. Until i went into public to try my new little toy. I want to pretend like i'm not that obnoxious guy who can't pick up milk without his wireless connection, but i am. Curse you Generation X! Curse you! I at least put the phone down when i'm paying. I hate people like me. Even worse it has that two-way, direct connect option, which i fully utilize. The beep-beep, static, words, static, do-you-copy? static, beep. Yeah that’s me. i once was give a sheet of paper with all of the appropriate 2-way lingo. I mocked this sheet of paper but secretly coveted it. i wanted to communicate in a string of incoherent static so only me and my walkie-talkie buddy would understand each other (gasp for breath after long sentence). It has inspired me to build a tree house. I don't own a tree so i'm building it in my neighbors, at night, with a flashlight, and my phone/walkie-talkie/internet browser/GPS/microwave. I love it.
The swollen feet, the aching back, the mood swings. I think i may be having sympathy pains, now i don't know anyone who is currently pregnant but i must be at least 7 months along. It all started with the new job, to which i am 2 weeks deep. It is going well but life has changed since accepting this position. To start i no longer can drive into the city, i commute via the subway. This is always an adventure, always. It seems i have some unknown attraction for people who know not the definition of personal space. The mornings aren't too bad, generally there are seats available and i pass my 40 minute subway ride reading. Now the afternoon is a different story. You would think there was only one train heading to the suburbs. Never an available seat, never. Chivalry is not an option on the commute home, i have seen grown men sprint, lunge, careen to an empty seat thwarting the needs of the elderly, handicapped, or very pregnant women. I spend the ride home standing and reading. Not too bad except they have now turned my particular route into a training course for the new subway drivers. I guess braking must be very difficult to do when you have a 6 car train filled with 10,000 suburbanites. Inertia-an object in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. The object(s) are the commuters, we are happily moving along with the train at a steady clip when the brakes are applied quite liberally and the new guy stops too short of the platform where he accelerated back to the aforementioned speed sending everyone standing to the front and immediately to the back again. Carnage, commuters exit the train looking like they just spent an afternoon riding the tilt-o-whirl (entertaining). As I mentioned earlier there is no personal space allowances on a subway. Yesterday I stood next to a woman with a disc-man singing, not humming singing. Today a man with very nice jewelry stood with his left hand in my face for 20 minutes. I actually may still have the imprint of his fraternity ring on my forehead.
I have a few more complaints about the fitness trends i see developing in my little suburban town. To start it is less than 12 degrees. At best during the day it reaches a balmy 37. You would think it were a heat wave. People are out and making chipper comments on the beauty and warmth of the day as if crocuses were popping out of the ground. After a few moments of gleeful speculation these optimists go inside because, well, they can't feel their fingers/toes/nose/eyelids. But there are some who are just plain slow, not in which the speed they go inside but slow as in stupid. These are the people who you see out running in this weather. They aren't appropriately fitted for the sport/workout either. Always the same outfits too, shorts smaller than thong underwear and a matching tank top. I swear Victoria's secret has a hidden line for not-so-smart-winter-runners. It is important to note that NONE of the people out jogging the snow piled streets look like they do this all year round. Their faces are red, the blotchy kind of red, heaving breaths and new looking "apparel."
So, well, it's Monday and the weekend is technically over, but i am a government employee and Uncle Sam has given me this Presidents day to reflect on why i am glad we have democracy. Ah, i love America.
Can we talk for a minute? Yes i thought so. I would like to discuss something i despise, something i detest with a fiery passion; racquetball. I hate this "sport" with a hatred usually reserved for things like snakes, spiders and politicians. I am a dedicated member, loosely stated, to a small gym on the outskirts of the city, have been for years. On the way to the locker rooms one must pass the racquetball courts where there are always 4-5 sweaty men whacking the hell out of little blue balls. I hate this hallway. In my opinion the building should be torn down to avoid walking by it. I could rant about the absurdity of trapping yourself in a room with other grown humans while trying to hit a ball as hard as you can, at a wall, which causes the ball to ricochet, until it hits someone in the eye/chest/neck/ear. OR i could talk about that awful noise the ball makes as it hits the wall at 4,973 miles per hour, but i won't. For all intensive purposes let's just say earth would be better without racquetball.
I don't feel i have read enough blogs about cars. I'm sure there are men and women who have devoted their entire blogging life to the auto industry. I do not wish to join their ranks but the new corvette is one of the most drool inducing vehicles of all times. I once test drove a corvette. This cocky sales guy sauntered up to me whilst i was perusing the widow sticker of a beautiful black on black on black vette. Translation: black corvette convertible, 6 speed, 8 cylinders of manhood. Insert grunting, lots of grunting. So the sales clerk says something car-salesman-like while rubbing the cloth top "do you know what this baby can really do?"
The first real day at the new job. I have successfully located the printer, the copier, the fax machine and my office. I have yet to find the office refrigerator which means my egg salad didn't make it until lunch. On several occasions i got lost and i mean several. It reminds me of this building of the University of Maryland. Apparently a team of psychologists were consulted during the construction of this innocent looking building. I believe this man probably lent a hand or two. There is no congruency between any floor, hall, bathroom, lecture hall, or lab. Not only did they create this human sized maze but they installed surveillance equipment as well as fake mirrors to observe how students and faculty respond to the abnormal environment. I did always feel poorly for the hung-over freshman late for Bio101, i am convinced several would have dropped out if they could only have found the way out. Point of the story? Yes the floor plan of the new office must have been laid out by the same nut-job professors. I had this sneaky suspicion i was being watched by snickering scientists in white coats. I know the frig is in there somewhere i just know it.
I need to get this off my chest. I am a government employee. yes, yes get out the standard sheet of insults now. go ahead, i'll wait. I work for a particularly despised Federal agency to which may cost me a few readers, but i must share, the IRS. Before you start, the answer is no. No i do not process your taxes. No i can't pad your refund. No i can't finagle, miscarry a 1, or hide your 1040-EZ from anyone. This new job has nothing to do with the collection of your hard earned money so you can't hate me. sorry.
So tomorrow is the big day. The new job. I am a little nervous. mostly the "what if no one likes me and who will i sit with at lunch and what if i don't like any of the playground equipment etc..." I'm sure all will go fine, in all actuality tomorrow is just the orientation. Hopefully it will be nothing like college, i hate standing in a room with 50 strangers trying to think of something unique about myself. I am not at all an introvert nor am i un-unique but when you have to do it over and over again, well you really feel quite boring. Freshman highlights, i remember them well (insert nostalgic tone here) the water balloon toss with the overly dressed girls who are browsing or the overly-gymed jocks who are bruising. By the end of the day all the pretty ones have got the attention they were hoping for, sort-of, from the jocks heaving, catapult-like, the tubs of water filled rubber. Memories. Now that might be fun tomorrow.
Now, i am not a cop nor do i live in San Francisco, but this is the most ridiculous thing i have ever read. 3 off duty cops+2 innocent civilians+1 bag of fajitas=the $33 million defamation of this fine police Chief's character. Apparently his subordinates were involved in some kind of "brawl" with two civilians. Really the mental image is quite entertaining. 3 determined clothed officers arriving at Ralph’s late at night in the primal hunter/gather search for meat. They spot what they want, a bag of processed cow and poultry masterfully marinated so you feel like you're eating at Chi -Chi's. When suddenly, an Oakland couple nonchalantly places the bag in their cart. Two cops tackle the unsuspecting wife pushing the cart, the third goes for the fajita bag. The husband, now looking for tortillas, hears his wife's scream and runs to her aid. There under the twisted remains of the cart, lies his wife with a cut lip. The three cops are now huddled with the fajita meat in their hands, grunting like Neanderthals. The husband goes nuts and starts throwing bags of frozen chitterlings (or chitlins') at the perpetrators. The cops carefully put down the captured meat and return his blows with pounds of kosher hot dogs. Management finally arrives, separates wife from cart and ushers all to local police station where chief says anxiously asks "Where's the fajita mix?"
This blog thing is getting out of control. Not the drink-until-you-forget-your-name kind of control but more of the i-just-turned-21-and i am capable-of-doing-anything kind of control. I feel it is important to note that i am not drinking nor am i 21. For those who are veteran bloggers i salute you, ah hem, i salute you.
To say i am in-between jobs is somewhat of a misnomer. I am in transition. Yes effective Friday i will have moved on to the next rung in my ladder of life. These last few hours at the old job-site have been spent training and reviewing the years of work i so willingly and lovingly (insert minute sarcastic tone) dedicated myself to. Today is the big fare well lunch, me and my closest colleagues will go wine and dine until we feel a proper goodbye is facilitated via large pints of beer and pounds of greasy undercooked food. On a side note i am astounded at how similar the obligatory conversation/farewell from those who don't really know/care what you do:
I have been flirting with blogdom for quite a while. Now i have lost my blogging virginity and i am left feeling empty and guilty. Just what do i think i will write about EVERY DAY?
