Thursday, April 29, 2010

Gym and Chipotle and Movies, oh My!

I have several apologies to make. First, I am sorry that I have not posted in almost a week. I haven't had much happen lately. However, I will make up for it by writing a long-ish post today. Second, I am sorry for writing a long-ish post instead of writing more often because I am lazy. Third, I am sorry for being lazy, but it is too late to change my ways now. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. That's what I am, an old dog. A few more dog years and you will have to take me behind the shed and shoot me. Fourth, I am sorry that the picture quality and quantity of my blog sucks. The latter is caused due to the fact that I am using a Creative Commons License for it so I am pretty sure, though not 100 percent, that I am not supposed to use random pictures from the internet without permission. I guess I could always credit the artist but I have yet to learn how to do that. That is why I believe that I have to buy a digital camera and take all the pics myself or use pictures my friends take and let me use. The former is caused by the fact that I am using my phone to take pictures with and, though it has a nice camera in it, I am not good at taking pics and they always come out blurry. Fifth, I am sorry I don't have the resources to buy a new camera right now as it would solve my need for the fourth apology. Sixth, I am sorry I started this long-ish post with all these apologies. Now, buckle up as we are just getting started and we still have the rest of the post to go through.

On the gym front, I went to the gym again today!!! I think I am starting to like it and I am sure that having a gym buddy has been a major part of that. I am stopping by the gym tomorrow to get a membership. They are offering me a 29.99 monthly payment with no enrollment fee. I hope the contract is not too long though.

On another note, since having one workout buddy worked out so well, I figured the more the better right? That is why, tomorrow when I go ask about membership I am gonna ask about some passes for the two ladies that offered to workout with me, and provided me with a bike last Friday, and put up with my slow pace and cramped leg. I foresee many fun evenings at the gym with none other but the fabulous T & K! Now, they have not met my workout buddy yet so I hope they get along. After all, it's not like we aren't all just a big gay family anyway. We gays got to stick together.

And the great gym news just keep coming... Tonight while working out my heart rate only went up to 172!!! I know what you are gonna say... (mainly because I like putting words in your mouth) 172 is high for a heart rate. You have got to keep in mind though that tonight was the first time that my heart rate did not break 190. See?!? That is called progress. Maybe. At least I am getting used to it, I think. Acclimatization is crucial to the whole not dying of a heart attack while working out. Something I plan to do little of because I don't think my WBs "Workout Buddies" would enjoy seeing me dead on the floor. Plus, I would be one heavy body to move. I need to lose weight so the EMTs that get to carry my body to the morgue won't have to struggle too much. Plus, I gotta get to the point where I look better naked so that the coroner will be able to keep his lunch while performing the autopsy to confirm that my heart gave out due to the fact that I did not give my body enough time to adjust. See, why I am excited about a 172 heart rate? On the light side, I have been thinking a lot about death lately but I already have way too many topics for this post so I shall leave it for the next. Moving on...

Next topic: Chipotle! Today was Happy CHIPOTLE Day! For those of you who do not know what Chipotle is, allow me to illuminate your lives with the wonderful, warm, beacon of light that is Chipotle. Chipotle is a burrito place. I don't want to over sell it but it is... how shall I phrase it... THE BEST BURRITO PLACE THAT HAS EVER EXISTED AND WILL EVER EXIST IN THE HISTORY AND FUTURE OF HUMANKIND!!! If you can't tell, I really like it. Really, really, really like it. Really, really, really, really like it. Get the picture? Now you would think that they were paying me to do this, but they are not. I am doing this for free. I am not adverse to the idea of getting some free burritos from this if someone out there reading this can help with that (not so subtle hint). Just in case, this is my recipe for the perfect burrito. I know most of you don't care but I am still putting it out there. I like the burrito with rice, black beans, barbacoa (sorry T), hot red sauce, cheese and extra hot red sauce. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. To think I did not like Chipotle the first few times I tried it, it just makes me sad because of all the time I wasted not eating their burritos.

On a happier note, today I got to eat Chipotle for free. A friend of mine, who happens to also be a co-worker of mine, had the brilliant idea of dropping her business card into a fishbowl where you could win a free lunch for five. She possesses a big portion of the world's good luck. She wins contests all the time and this time was not the exception. She received a call on Tuesday letting her know she had won and, out of the goodness of her heart, she thought to invite me as one of her guests. This morning when I got to work, the first thing I did after all the usual morning stuff is make a little badge for Happy CHIPOTLE Day!!! and stuck it on my shirt. I also took a picture of it. When you see the picture you will understand my need for a digital camera as the picture is lousy, but I think you will appreciate the sentiment and the emotion behind it.

As much as I like Chipotle, it is time to move on. Bye Chipotle. I miss you already. OK, the last topic, and the source of my ingenious title is, for all of those that did not figure it out by now, The Wizard of Oz. I will be the first to admit that I am a bit behind on my gay culture. You have no idea how many times people have wanted to take my gay card away because I had never seen that movie before. Well, it is because I had never seen The Wizard of Oz before Saturday, and I still have never seen The Sound of Music, or listened to any Madonna music from the eighties. I always argue that it is another set of attributes altogether that allow me to have a gay card. Besides, I do know a lot of Britney Spears songs. I have been a Lady Gaga song from the very beginning. I have followed Fergie, The Pussycat Dolls, and anything that resembles gay music. I do know some of the modern musicals, including Wicked. I know RENT by heart. So, I would argue I am gay enough. It is just taking me a while to catch up on the oldies.

Luckily for me, I have no life. You might remember that my last post was from the Saturday when nothing happened. I was SOOOOO bored. Boredom is never a good thing. After writing that lame post, I was left with nothing to do. I then remembered that I had received in the mail the blu-ray disc of The Wizard of Oz earlier in the week. I thought about it and after thoughtful consideration and rationalizing that I had been to the gym twice that week, I set out to spend about fifteen bucks on junk food at fast food places. I figured you could not watch the movie without massive amounts of junk food. Especially if you are going to start watching it after midnight. So I settled on the floor, surrounded by junk food and hit play on the blu-ray player. What did I think of it? I am glad you asked...

I know that I stand alone, but I must say, risking my gay card being revoked, that The Wizard of Oz was not that great. I would say it was barely good. Please don't hate me. I understand the nostalgic value of a movie that one enjoyed as a kid and continues to love into adulthood. That does not mean the movie is good. Also, maybe it was good in its time, but not today. Remember, as Frost said, "Nothing gold can stay." For one, the acting is... well, bad. So overacted it was painful to watch. I have a feeling that the time it was made in may be responsible for that but, oh my deity, it was too much. Also, what kind of girl goes into strangers' cabins? Especially, roadside attraction strangers' cabins. What kind of message does that send? Also, Glinda looked ridiculous and the Munchkins were too creepy. I guess the biggest thing is that I always expected Toto to be a cute dog instead of the mangy mongrel that he actually was. On a positive note, he was a better actor than some of the humans in the film. I guess it wasn't all that bad. I learned that the quote "And her little dog too" is from the Wicked Witch of the West and not Cruella de Vil, as I originally thought. Then again there are all the other famous quotes like "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." I am not gonna say the movie was a complete waste of time. I did get to listen to "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" fully for the first time ever. It was OK. It did get me thinking if The Wizard of Oz is where the rainbow originated as a gay symbol. Perhaps. Perhaps not. One classic down, a million to go.

So I have rambled on for too long now. I think I have fulfilled my promise about the long post making up for the lack of shorter ones. I apologize again for the crappy quality of the picture. It really only says Happy CHIPOTLE Day!!! with "yum" and "mmm" on the periphery. This has taken me a couple of hours to write. Mainly because I have been texting friends and watching Buffy at the same time, but also because I do believe it is my longest post so far. I was more than making up for not posting sooner, I also don't know when my next post will be as I will be helping a friend move all weekend. But more on that later.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Saturday Night Frostbite

Yet another uneventful Saturday night. What are my friends doing? Well, a myriad other things. Three are at a girls-only-martini night. One is stressing out about her upcoming move. One is being a good stepmother and watching movies with her kids. Another one is sitting in her back porch listening to the music of the Arts and Jazz Fest going on in Denton right now. Me? I am in bed watching the sixth season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

It is hard to write a blog when nothing really happens in your life. In a way I am thankful I have started this blog as it has made me be more adventurous so that I will have something to write about. For instance, yesterday I went to the Arts and Jazz Fest with some friends, and here is what happened:

In my search of things to do this weekend, I asked my friends T and K what their plans were for Friday night. Now, I have only known them for a couple of months and have only hung out with them about three or four times, but they are awesome people and I enjoy spending time with them. That is why when they said they were going to the festival, I was all psyched about it even though I don't really like jazz that much. Upon further discussion of our plans, it was mentioned that they were planning to ride their bicycles there. I thought I had a perfect out by saying that I did not own a bike, but they were ready for me. They had an extra bike. Last time I was on a bike that I remember, before yesterday, I was still in high school. Since I am in that "getting fit" kick I agreed to do so.

At about six, I pulled up in front of their house and after a few minutes of small talk, really good small talk, we started getting ready to leave. I must say I was really afraid of falling and or having the bike attack me as it used to attack Calvin from Calvin & Hobbes. I looked it up and down. Then K started talking to me about gears and the fear intensified. I don't know anything about gears. My bikes had always been the simple, gear-less ones. We set off and, since I was the least experienced rider, I was in the middle of the formation. It turns out that riding a bike is like riding a bike. It takes a little while to get back into it, but it is not that hard. Of course, I was not letting go of the handlebars or doing figure"8"s or taking my feet off the pedals, but I wasn't falling and that is always a plus. The ride down to the fest was 2.4 miles, we found out later, and I rode the grand majority of it except for this really steep hill that I knew I was not going to be able to do. Then again, a lot of it was downhill. I did learn to mess with the gears and I felt all pro and stuff. The ride there was beautiful and uneventful.

We left the bikes at The Cupboard and walked the few blocks to the fest. Once there we walked around and enjoyed some amateur glee-ish performances and some drums that were actually pretty cool. The food was deep fried and fattening, so of course it was good. The ATMs overcharged you every time you used them but that is what happens when you don't think ahead and are going to an outdoor festival. It was interesting trying to find vegetarian food since K and T are vegetarians. We had to settle for fries, tornado and butterfly, and cheese pizza. On top of that we had some watermelon and pineapple that T was smart enough to bring and considerate enough to share. Interestingly, I thought I hated pineapple. I have been avoiding pineapple for ages as I used to hate it as a kid but I loved it yesterday. Sometimes it pays off being adventurous. Now I know that there are worse things in the world than pineapple. Unfortunately, it started getting dark so we had to leave in order not to end up riding at night and risk getting run over. T & K were adamant about not getting run over.

We walked back to The Cupboard and started our trek back. We were going to be riding a different way than the one we had come since we were trying to avoid traffic. The ride back was a little over four miles. I would love to say that I rode the bike the whole way back. Sadly, halfway back I got a horrible leg cramp. It was horrible. Apparently, pain is no fun. On top of that, it was extremely embarrassing. They kept saying that I did not ruin their night, but we had to walk the rest of the way to their house. Honestly, how can a bike riding night not be ruined when you have to walk your way back? At least the weather was nice.

What did I learn from this ordeal? I have great friends. They are extremely supportive. I can't do everything that I think I can. If "No Pain, No Gain" is true, then it stands to reason that pain equals gain. Therefore, I must have gained a lot last night and, apparently, I am still gaining as the pain has not gone away. Will I give up? I don't think so. Despite the pain and the embarrassment and the holding my friends back, both T & K and my gym buddy, I feel good about doing this. Therefore, as long as I have people willing to put up with me, I shall continue embarrassing myself and feeling pain and holding my friends back.

I know this post is a bit scatterbrained. That's what happens when I have nothing else to do on a Saturday night. I seriously need to get a life, but when I went to the store, they had run out. I shall try to come up with more compelling stuff to write about. Until then, please bear with me.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Milestone One, Thanks and Other Stuff

I want to start by saying that I missed a great opportunity. I can't believe that I did not wait till Tuesday to post my friend's "MJ" titled memoir on April 20th. I almost had a moment of synchronicity. Is there such a thing as "near synchronicity"? Because, if not, I am claiming it and coining it. I mean, I might as well own it considering the many near misses that make up my life. If you are thinking "Max", so am I.

I wanted to take some time as well to thank three really special women in my life. First, thanks to Hilly, once again, for sharing her awesome story with us and being my first guest post. You are a great friend. Second, I have no words to express my gratitude to Crazy Texas Mommy for her kind plug of my blog in her own, ever so popular blog. I am very glad that we met. Even if it was in a workplace that cannot find the humor in a talking Mary doll. Third, but not last, thanks to Nicci for promoting this blog on her tweeter. I know it is because of these amazing women that I can write the next paragraph.

I have hit milestone number one. My blog has reached one hundred hits. I know this may not sound like much, but it does mean that people out there are reading this and, though not many things do, this makes me feel all special and stuff like that. Then again, one hundred posts may not seem that important because at last count the number was up to 154, but I am sure that the extra people are from the help of my wonderful friends who thought enough of my blog to promote it. Next, milestone number two, one thousand hits. I hope you all enjoy the journey to it as much as I do.

Moving on to what I really set off to write about. I went to the gym for the first time in over 2 years on Monday night. I know what you are gonna say... actually, I guess I don't. It's kind of obvious that I haven't set foot in a gym for a while. Also, last time I set foot in a gym, I never did more than ride one of the stationary bikes because I could read at the same time so I have never been much for exercise. I figured I needed to start going to the gym again if I had any chance of a)looking better, b)feeling better, and c)finding someone. As luck would have it, one of the many guys I have met online seemed to be really into working out and, since I knew he was way out of my league, I figured we could at least be gym buddies. The whole idea was great in theory and I felt excited about it. That is right until it was time to actually enter a gym.

It was 10:25pm and I was sitting in the parking lot waiting for my friend to arrive. The more I sat there, the more the gym looked like a sacred place. It seemed like a religious place, almost church-like, in the sense that people walked in because they wanted to become better people and feel better about themselves and walked out changed. The building loomed large and ominous and with every second I became more and more anxious about the step I was about to take. Was I ready? Could I really commit to taking better care of my body? Anxiety slowly crept in and soon I was pretty close to having a panic attack. This was not helped by the fact that all the people I saw walking into that gym were skinny and seemed to be popular, happy and the epitome of everything that I was not. I do admit that last part might have been my imagination getting carried away. Still, I could just picture them laughing at me and whispering to each other "Look at that Fat Guy! He doesn't stand a chance! We will always be better than him." Sitting there, shaking with nervous jitters, I looked down and noticed that the over sized shirt I was wearing, because somehow I convinced myself that a huge shirt would be good because it would make me look less fat yet ruefully realized it was worse since it made me look like a shapeless blob, had a big stain in the front. That is just what I needed. At that moment, I started hyperventilating. I wish I were kidding and making this stuff up but the foggy windows in my car didn't lie. My heart was pounding and I was breathing heavier than if I had just run a 5K. Then again, I have never ran a 5K, so I may just be exaggerating a bit. Regardless of my running history, I figured that I'd had enough exercise for one day. See how efficient I am? I was done exercising and I had not set foot inside the consecrated gym floors. Heck, I had not even moved at all!!!

I almost started my car and drove off a couple of times, but it would have been really embarrassing to have to tell my friend that I was not going to be able to make it because I had freaked out and psyched myself out just by sitting in the parking lot. So, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started texting friends about how I was about to leave. I was hoping they would respond and convince me to stay. Unfortunately, of the one friend that I actually texted, I got no response. I did however realize that fiddling with phone did make me feel less stressed about the whole situation. So, I opened a little note-pad-like-thingy on my phone and started writing little notes so that I would remember what I wanted to talk about when I wrote this later on. And so, my nerves, though not cured, were relieved by someone any geek worth their salt has experienced in their lives: gadget relief. If you are not a geek, allow me to explain. Gadget relief is the one recourse a geek has when outside of his element. For instance, say you are at a party and you don't know anyone. More importantly, it does not seem like anyone is interested in getting to know you. The whole situation is awkward and extremely uncomfortable so, what does one do? Easy. One pulls out a gadget, usually a cell phone, and pretends to text someone or plays a game or anything that can be done with that specific gadget. Thus, you are still alone and unwanted, but it does not matter because you are not focused on the social interactions taking place around you but rather are preoccupied with whatever task you are doing with your gadget. It is the geeky equivalent of looking at your watch and pretending to wait for someone or waving at a stranger when you realize that the person you were waving at was not waving at you but at someone behind you. Now that we are all caught up, I shall resume the story. So there I sat, fidgeting with my phone and trying to keep my stomach from turning from anxiety when my phone beeps and I realize my friend has parked next to me and he is sending me a message telling me he has arrived.

Of course, I had resolved not to share with anyone what had transpired in my car because I did not want to be embarrassed. Yet, somehow that was the first thing I told my friend upon getting out of my car. I might have appeared a bit crazy, but at least I was honest. Also, I am not sure how me posting this in here counts as not telling anyone, as I had resolved not to tell anyone yet knew I was gonna post it, but go with me on this one. The actual workout was rather fun and my friend could not have been more gracious. I forgot to think about bringing a lock for a locker and he let me put my wallet, cell phone and keys in his. Granted, that was a bit courageous of my part considering I had never met the guy before, but my trust was rewarded by the end of the night when I got my stuff back. I also asked him to please take it easy as I had not worked out in a long time and he did. We only used the treadmill for walking and the elliptical machines to... elliptically-machine? Still, we have not attended the gym in the last two days which works out just fine for me as I am still sore from Monday. After all this is the price we pay for... well, whatever it is we go to the gym for.

Monday, April 19, 2010


*To all my readers, this is my first guest post. It is not from someone famous but from a very dear friend of mine. Without further ado I give you the post from my friend Hilly:

He was a modern day cowboy....

When I first met MJ I was 16 and still living with my parents. He and his wife had just moved to the neighborhood. You could tell by looking at his red leathered skin that he had lived a rough, wild life, but his sincere blue eyes and his assuring smile reflected his true nature; a kind, non judging cowboy waiting in the distance for when he is needed. Little did I know that two years later I would discover how true those words would be.

Eighteen. This was a dark period in my life. My world as I had understood it had crumbled as the relationship and the place in my family was destroyed and my " best friend" who I loved so dearly had abandoned me simultaneously. The slight confidence I had built was obliterated and I furthered my self worthlessness via Marlboro cigarettes. Unable to sleep I decided to slowly kill myself with a pack of cigarettes outside the front of my house only to find out that my parents noticed and consequently locked me out. Broken, pained with the knowledge that my family lost all promise in me, anguished that they had given up on me, shamed that they didn't want me anymore, walked away.

Aimlessly I walked pointlessly up and down my street not knowing what to do for I had no shoes, no keys, no phone, no money. Then I noticed a blue glow coming from my neighbors home and on closer inspection the door open with a glass screen shielding it. Hesitantly I tip toed over not knowing why my neighbor would be up and how he would react to a troubled eighteen year old girl knocking on his door in the middle of the night. Sheepishly I rapped the glass and he appeared. He looked at me he was not alarmed, inquisitive, but not condeming. He spoke, hello. Embarresed I asked him if I could use his phone to call a friend, that I was locked out of my house. "Of course" he said, "its not trouble at all I am just watching old movies. I have insomnia and can not sleep. You're welcome to stay and watch some with me until you can reach someone." I stayed a little while, smoked a ciggarette with him and called a friend". He never pried about the paramedics earlier that week and only said to me " You know I have seen how you take care of your brother and sister and how you take them to school, you're a good kid." I laughed as I tried to hold back the tears. With a warm knowing glance he said nothing more and we just sat. Being with him those few moments was so healing. Without words he told me everything was going to be ok, my life was not over, and that I was a worthwhile person. We never had spent any other time like that together since that night, except for the occasional passing conversation outside my parents house, irregardless an understood connection remained. I hope he knows how much he helped me that night and how I will never forget him.

March 27, 2010 MJ died of pnemonia a complication from lung cancer. He was only 2 days shy of his 60th birthday. I was so happy to see so many people at his simple funeral-the way he wanted it. I regret never verbally telling him the thought I am sharing with you but was comforted by a thank you letter his widowed wife had written me. She said "MJ always thought of you, saying what a fine young lady you are"...

Thank you MJ, thank you.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Happy Birthday, Medea!

Today was the birthday of that special, and by "special" I intend all meanings including the good and the bad, lady who gave birth to me. I know you were all aware of that since I wrote that long post about the dilemma of what to do for her birthday. The day has passed and I have to report what happened so that you'll know that I listen to you.

My whole weekend, at least the days, revolved around her. The nights were fun. Let's talk about that first.

Friday night started with happy hour with some co-workers after work. From then on I joined some friends at another restaurant for another happy hour. The rest of the night was spent with those friends and a very opportune bottle of tequila. Good times were had by all and some very random conversations. I am not one to usually like tequila as I consider myself a vodka person. I do have a very soft spot in my heart for margaritas though. Well, after several of those, and about a liter and a half of tequila, I invited my friends to do a guest post. I figured I should tell you in advance so you won't be surprised. Especially since I just received one of them and I will be posting it soon. Anyway, it was a fun night.

Saturday night I went to see Death at a Funeral with some guy I met online. After that was over, the movie was good but the company left something to be desired, I ventured on my own to Mabel's to see a benefit drag show and hoping to meet up with some friends. Unfortunately, my friends were a no show. Fortunately, there was this cute, nerdy guy who I kind of talked to and, had I not been too much of a chicken, whose phone number I should have asked for. He is working on his dissertation to get his math PhD. That is enough for me to like him right there. I mean, what else could I possibly ask for, right? Talking to him was fun and the drag show was interesting, so despite the fact that my friends were a no show, it was a good night. (The guy's name was Max and this is a long shot but if anyone knows him you know where to find me.)

Those were my nights this weekend. My days, however, were consumed by Medea. On Saturday I was at my sister's house. She planned a cook-out to celebrate mother's birthday. I spent most of the day there and, despite wanting to leave before Medea got there, I stayed because my sister kept saying that Medea really wanted me to be there. So I stayed and the long ice was broken and me and Medea exchanged our first words in months. Then today my dad cooked liver and onions and the whole family got together again. Another all day ordeal. As you can see, especially by how much of this post was dedicated to her, Medea monopolized my weekend and I have now eaten enough cake to make my search for a soul mate near pointless. At least the family rift is closed now and we can let the healing begin.

As a last note, since this is supposed to be a short post and it is late already, I figured I would tell you all what I ended up getting her for her birthday. I thought of all your great suggestions: a card, flowers, gift card, perfume, etc. I have decided that no material thing could compare to the greatest gift I could bestow upon Medea. The one thing that I knew she wanted and that no one else could give her. I realized that the one thing that would really make her day and that she should count herself lucky to have was... the joy of being able to converse with me once again. I mean, I am awesome and I know she was dying to have me talk to her and to enjoy the wonderful conversation that no one but yours truly could provide. Great gift, huh?

P.S. Please check back soon as I will be posting the first guest post from one of my friends.
P.P.S. Shout out to the G-Man whose voyeuristic tendencies allow me one more reader if not one more commenter. I did not want to use your real name but you know who you are.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

I am a goner...

Maybe I am being a little over dramatic. You would too if you had your own conspiracy theory (as every good blogger does). Let me lay it on you.

I have a very strong suspicion that bugs are trying to get me. I am not crazy, though. It's not all bugs that are after me. I do have a very lukewarm relationship with ladybugs. As long as they don't surprise me and come at me from nowhere, I am very friendly with ladybugs. But, other than that, bugs don't like me. I live by one rule. Well, I live by many of them but I am only sharing one at a time. I don't remember, or am even aware, of all the rules. The rule of the day is: reciprocity. If you don't like me, I am not wasting my time trying to like you. Bugs don't like me, therefore, I don't like them. Simple cause and effect really.

Loyal readers will remember the attack of the killer wasp that happened a few weeks back. What readers don't know is that the wasp attack is not the first attack by the bug militia. A few weeks before I started my voyage into the world of blogging, I suffered my first surprise assault. I was sitting on my desk at work when, out of the corner of my eye, I see something moving. My sharp senses and superb reflexes allowed me to locate and avoid a spider that was rapidly moving towards me. I slammed the desk with my palm and the vibrations made the spider stop. The next few minutes seemed to be taken from an old western movie as me and my foe just stared at each other waiting for someone to make the first move. Usually at this point I would provide a long description of what the spider looked like but, unfortunately, I can't do so. And this time, it is not because my descriptive writing is lacking. The reason this time is that, even though I had about ten minutes to stare at my nemesis, I was not able to really observe its physical characteristics due to fact that the spider was barely about an eighth of an inch big. That is including leg span. I can tell you that much. It had legs and a very small, dot-like body. Regardless of the minuteness of my enemy, I knew it had fangs full of lethal poison and was just biding its time until I lost eye contact so that it could attack. I had to act fast so, after ten minutes, I figured I had to end the stand off and take action. Very carefully and slowly, as to not alarm the deadly assassin, I picked up my phone and called one of the girls in the back office to come kill it for me. In case you were wondering, there was mocking but I didn't care. After all, I was alive.

This brings us to today. Just when I thought it was safe to let my guard down, the enemy resurfaced. One of the first tasks I have to perform at work is bringing in the newspaper. It was a beautiful morning and I was in good spirits. I happily sauntered outside into the brisk spring morning. I picked up the newspaper and, as I slowly made my way back inside trying to soak up the sun and breathe in the fresh air, I saw it. This time it was bigger. I swear to you it was almost an inch and a half. Unlike the first, it did not have a small dot-like body but a big round one with stubby legs and I think it almost looked hairy. It was walking into the building at a fast pace and, despite my best efforts at trying to divert it from that path, made it into the lobby. For those who don't know, that is where my desk is. See the similarities? Both of them were spiders and both of them were at work. I guess the next attack is gonna be a bee in my car to keep the flying insects in the vehicle motif. Back to today. The new attacker was stronger than its predecessor. So I had to act faster this time. It only took me five minutes of staring before I called a girl from the back to kill it for me. She came in laughing, as she had heard of the previous spider, but when she saw the new one she asked me to get a broom. I promptly provided her with her weapon of choice. She brought her weapon to bear and slammed it down on the would-be killer. The enemy was stronger than expected and, even after three smacks, it kept trying to walk even though it kept oozing some really disgusting, sticky substance. The girl finally gave up and decided it was best to just sweep it outside.

I have survived, yet again, and foiled the plans of the bug overlord that keeps sending its minions after me. I know they are out to destroy, if not my life, at least my reputation as I have to call on girls to assist (rescue?) me. Working where I work, I have few options as to who to call in times of need. Besides, I rather live emasculated by having girls kill spiders for me than die bravely facing a foe that leaves me frozen with fear.

The war, however, rages on. How long I will be able to survive and thwart the increasing and ever stronger attacks of the dreaded bugs? No one knows. I shall keep you posted on the progress of this battle from the trenches. All I know is that I am not giving up without a fight. Even if it is a girl that is doing the fighting for me.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

My Mother Medea*

*No, this is not a reference to Tyler Perry. Look further back in literature.

I know it is unusual for me to be posting two days in a row but I have a conundrum that I need assistance with. Now, I know I cannot count on my readers to provide any feedback judging from the lack of comments about the picture dilemma, but I suspect that just merely rambling on about it may help me make a decision. Let me start with a story...

Suppose you had family in El Paso. Also suppose your grandfather passed away so you have to go to the funeral. This means that you have to travel about 1200 miles with your parents round-trip. Now, offhand, you know you are obnoxious and that such close quarters are just not going to provide a good environment for family growth. Well, everything seems to go well and you are on your way back. Halfway through the trek back your mother, which we will call Medea, starts making ludicrous demands. This makes you waste about 2 hours of travel in a dull city we shall call Odessa. After two pointless hours, tempers escalate and you lose your cool and end up calling Medea, your mother, "ignorant". After this, things go horribly awry. First you refuse to listen to them so you put on earphones and drive around erratically till you find the place Medea was looking for and park. She proceeds to get out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind her. You drive off in search of something to eat while they tend to their business and try calling their phones to tell them to call you when they have concluded their business. You realize then that your dad left his cell phone on the car and Medea is not answering. So you turn around and find Medea bawling in the parking lot and your dad comes to you and tells you to just leave and drive home leaving them there. Remember home is about 300 miles away and your parents are older and not feeling well so you get out of the car and walk away telling them to take the car expecting them to cool down while they tend to their business and to call you to pick you up and have a silent, cold drive home.

Two hours later, while sitting at a park watching Kathy Griffin's TV show "My Life on the D-List" season 5 on your iPod (wow, look at all the plugs in one single sentence), you have the grim realization that they are not calling and that you are stuck about 300 miles from home with two days before you have to be at work. Also, the car they drove off in is your car. It is a grim realization indeed. End of story.

Now, since you are all experts at pretending now, let's pretend that this happened to someone you all might know. Someone like, let's say, yours truly. Now if this were yours truly's story, it would not end there. I would go on to say that, with the help of a good friend, I managed to get home 24 hours later. When I get home, I find Medea and my dad in the kitchen with visitors so I head straight into my bedroom and fall to bed exhausted as I have work in the a.m. It is later that I realize that my parents are still mad at me and are not talking to me. Now, I was expecting their anger to become subdued in a couple of days, two weeks at most. I was surprised that after a month they, and especially Medea, were not speaking to me. My birthday came and went and I got a phone call from my dad and a text message from Medea saying, "Feliz Cumpleanos y que Dios te bendiga." For those of you unfortunate enough not to know Spanish, that means "Happy Birthday and God bless you." (Well, almost. I could not figure out how to type the special "n" letter for the word year in Spanish). I felt that was a gutsy move, you know, mentioning God when she was not speaking to me. So far, the freeze is still on. My dad is talking to me more but Medea's attitude remains unaltered.

Finally, we arrive at the conundrum that prompted this whole post. Medea's birthday is coming up this week. Now, I now I should be respectful because she is my mother, and I probably should start by not calling her Medea but I am not about to go back and make all those changes in the post, but I am also still a bit hurt for being left behind and getting nothing for my birthday. What to do? Should I buy her a gift? Should I just let her birthday pass unnoticed? Should I just send her a text saying "Happy Birthday and may Nature bless you with health"? On that last one, I refuse to use God's name as she did since I don't really believe he exists and if he does, I do not want to incur his wrath by using his name in vain during a petty act of revenge against my mother.

All this just to say, what should I do? I was hoping writing all this would help me decide. I still am clueless. I will say this though. I have learned a valuable lesson. No, it is not "don't ever call your parents ignorant". It is, "don't ever call your parents ignorant when you are about 300 miles from home and they are likely to drive off in your car leaving you with no way home and freezing you out for months to the extent that they forget your birthday and then you have to make a difficult decision about how to act on their birthday because it is coming up." Yes, it is not a very widespread lesson. In fact, it is very specific. But I have learned it nonetheless.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Round and Round We Go

Apparently, my friends seem to think that I need to date more. How do I know that? Simple. They keep telling me so. The fact that it is my life and that I am not great at dating and that I have had horrible experiences in the past, does not matter to them.

So I could stand to date more. I will give them that but it's not like dating is fun. At least not for me, anyway. Consider my last three dates. There was sock-sandal guy, young-anorexic-model guy, and old-creepy guy. None of whom are remotely long term relationship material. For example, sock-sandal guy, who earned his nickname by wearing socks and sandals to every date we ever had. This includes our advent into the Dallas Symphony during which I had sock-sandal guy wearing jeans and sandals with socks to my left and a lady in a fur coat to my right. Fun? You tell me. Then there was young-anorexic-model guy who ate nothing but lettuce on our date and then chose Monsters vs Aliens as the movie afterwards. Did I mention he was 19 and was studying fashion merchandising because he wanted to be a model? Last, and maybe least though I am not sure yet, was old-creepy guy. Now, I don't mind dating older guys. Anyone who knows me knows that. This guy, however, kept lying about his age and kept getting older as the evening progressed. I had to cut the date short in fear that he might die before the evening was over. Not only that, but I am quite sure that he "self medicated" before our date as he seemed out of it and did not make much sense. That is not what made him creepy though. His creepy factor came when he kept leaning real close and kept asking me if I liked "being approached". Now, I still have no idea what that means or entails but I am fairly certain that it gave me the creeps. To top the evening off, as I was answering a friend's call outside the bar, I happened to look inside and saw him giving the bartender his number. Yes, I have had some great moments in my dating past.

Back to the present, or at least the near past, this weekend my friend decided that it would be a good thing if she tried to find me a date. Apparently, the perfect place to find a date for someone like me is Craigslist. Nothing really screams "long term relationship with serious guy who is not just looking for the next hook up" than Craigslist. I must admit I was intrigued at first. My friend pulled it up and in a few short minutes we were appalled by the ads that people post in there. I would be tempted to repeat what the names of the ads were, but I am really trying to keep this blog family friendly. Well... maybe not family friendly, but at least PG-13 as I know I have readers with high sensitivity. I must say looking through the ads was a rather fun experience. My friend and I did not know whether to be shocked, amused or grossed out by some of them. Also, some of the pictures those guys post in there just make you think that some people have no sense of shame. We did get a few laughs out of it but it made me realize that you must be pretty desperate to post an ad on the Craigslist personals.

Obviously, I posted an ad. I had to. I mean, I am kind of desperate. Or, at least, I think I am so I fit the criteria. So, to sum everything up, yes I am trying to date again. I have bounced back from being rejected for being "too big". Also, I guess I should not say I "bounced" if I am trying to convey a sense of non-fatness. I must choose my words more carefully.

About the whole body image theme, I did happen to weigh myself yesterday for fun and was not amused by what I discovered. Since the last time I weighed myself two years ago, I have gained 20 pounds. I must definitely do something about that. For starters, I am only eating mini candy bars instead of normal sized ones. I guess that won't really help since, although the serving size is smaller, I have upped my intake from zero candy bars to three mini ones in a day. I also plan to do some sort of exercise, starting tomorrow. Or the day after. Maybe next week, but definitely soon. Anyway, I need to do something to move my body from an "O" shape to an "l" shape. Then again, that may never happen and I am trying hard to fool myself into believing I am okay with that.

On the whole "looks" category, I have learned some people hate my picture with the green sweater so a friend from work took a picture of me today. It is the one displayed at the top of this post and if I get enough comments saying I should change the picture, I just might do that. Notice the non-commitment part of that statement saying that I "might" instead of saying I would do it. I guess I shall let you all, yes all 5 of you, decide. If this sounds as a hook to try to get you to leave a comment, it is. Comments make me happy. Anyway, I have rambled on too long and you probably know more about me than you ever wished to know. Good night.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Kite Walker*


Sorry about the lack of posts lately.

Me: Hi, my name is Carlos and it has been five days since my last post.
Voices in my head: Hi, Carlos.

I figured I should apologize to the ones and fives of people that read my blog. I appreciate your loyalty and hope you won't take your business elsewhere. Part of the reason why I have not written much lately, and why I started this blog with such a long rambling intro about apologizing for not writing, is that not much has happened lately.

Something did happen out of the ordinary on Saturday, though, and it is what this entry is named after. 'Twas a lazy Saturday afternoon...

The weather has finally gotten nice enough to go outside and not freeze to death. Also, it's been winding so I had the great idea to accept the invitation from a friend to go kite flying. I was going to take credit for having the idea, but I am not much of an outdoors person or even out-of-bed person, so anyone who knows anything about me would not believe me anyway. My friend and I, of course, planned a picnic and everything. We even had the foresight to stop by Subway to buy food and family dollar to buy a tablecloth to spread on the ground. Nothing says "good old-fashioned picnic" like a pre-prepared sub and a vinyl tablecloth from the dollar store. To anyone who cares to disagree I will just say "lunch was delicious". Although, in all honesty, it wasn't. For some reason, subs made with day old bread that keeps crumbling away are not that tasty. Still, the company was good and we had a good laughs. I would share what we laughed about, but I don't remember. It was five days ago! You can't honestly expect me to remember what we talked about. Okay, fine. I do remember what we talked about but, unless you want to hear off-color jokes about men with breastfeeding fetishes, you are better off believing I don't remember what the conversation was about.

So, there we were, sitting on a blanket near a small body of water surrounded by families, laughing about something completely appropriate for that place and time. Especially if you consider the fact that, not far away, there was a church group conducting an Easter egg hunt. Then again, what kind of church conducts an egg hunt on Saturday anyway. They have bigger problems than us telling a few lewd jokes if they can't figure out what day some over-sized rabbit is supposed to hide eggs everywhere for them to find in celebration of their lord being resurrected. Besides, it is not like we were using a bullhorn. It was a completely appropriate private conversation that I just spent a couple of sentences defending. See what I meant when I said I did not have much to talk about?

Well, after enjoying our "delicious" lunch, we set out to see if we could fly a kite. The last time I tried flying a kite, before Saturday, was so long ago that I cannot even remember it. Then I kept hearing phrases like "you have to run" and "run faster" that kept making me uneasy. Especially after reading "The Kite Runner" and I learned what kind of tragedies happen when kids run after kites. You will be happy to know that no kids were traumatized, not to say raped (because who would want to bring up such a heavy and controversial subject in their blog?), in my kite adventure. If you haven't read the book, or seen the movie, you don't get that reference but trust me it is dead on and kinda funny if you find morbid, disgustingly sad things funny. Another reason why the word "run" made me uneasy is because if I can't remember the last time I flew a kite, because it is such an unusual activity, I also cannot remember the last time I ran. Running sucks! Thankfully, I did not have to run since there was a strong wind blowing. Maybe it was because of the strong wind that kite flying did not seem a complicated thing to do. At least not for me or my friend. Her friend that accompanied us, and who I had not mentioned till this moment because my storytelling sucks and because I forgot to credit her as being the other half of the duo that came up with the kite flying idea, had really bad luck. Her kite sucked but, even when she borrowed my kite, she was not a very good kite flyer. She managed to rip my kite and kites do not really fly that well once torn. Needless to say, the joy of kite flying was short lived, though I did get some sun exposure. There is a silver lining to everything and the one to this story is that I now have a bigger chance at getting skin cancer. The good news for you, oh patient readers, is that the story is now over.

Again, there is not much reason for me to have a blog except to submit my acquaintances to pointless stories that amuse no one but myself. Still, I try to make the stories bearable. After all, I did not mention that my kite had a picture of a smiling sun in it and that my friend's kite was a Spongebob. Neither did I mention that the bad-kite-flyer girl's kite was Batman and we kept making, especially her, really bad, as in not funny, jokes about her kite not flying because Batman does not fly. See? I do care about you and try to avoid rambling more than necessary. That is why I know you guys can hardly wait till the next installment. I shall try not to keep you waiting for long.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

As Reba Would Say, "I'm a Survivor"

I noticed that there was a trend emerging on my blog posts. I was talking too much about relationships and, considering how I don't date often or have many relationships, that is a shallow well that will run dry fast. So I am shifting my focus onto something else. I will talk about my daily life and what happens to me. For those in the know, the shift has nothing to do with the guy I mentioned in the last post wanting nothing to do with me. Moving on...

For my third post, I figured I would amaze everyone with my car acumen. I love the fact that the cold weather is almost over and am enjoying the warmer weather. On my way back to work from lunch the other day, I decided to ride with the windows open. It was all about getting the cool air in the car. It was not at all about trying to get rid of the stale air and gross smell coming from a left over burger that I had forgotten to throw out. I have a very busy lifestyle and cannot be expected to remember to throw out every piece of half eaten burger that I may have tried to eat late at night after leaving the club. When I got to work, I decided to leave the windows cracked so the car would not be too hot at the end of the day. That didn't work out as well as I planned for two reasons. The first was that the car was pretty hot anyway so I had to roll the windows up and turn the A/C on. The second was not apparent to me at first as the drive home was uneventful.

An hour after I got home, I get back in the car to go pick up a friend to go have dinner and maybe hit happy hour. I was about two blocks away from my house when out of the corner of my eye I see a wasp on the ceiling of my car. I, of course, reacted as any other normal guy would have reacted; screamed a little, pulled over and jumped out of the car. Now, I do not know much about cars or car emergencies, but I have been reading an article on Saturday's newspaper where people write letters asking questions and two guys, under the names Click and Clack, answer them. They tackled the Toyota accelerator failures earlier in the year and gave some good advice on what to do. They also advised a lady on what to do because she thought a snake had crawled into her engine. So far, they have not given any advice on how to deal with wasps in the car. I may have to write my own letter to them so that they can give advice on this very important subject, but I digress.

There I was, standing by the side of the road with a formidable foe inside the car. I had no idea how to get the wasp out of the car without getting stung. Getting stung was not an option. Still isn't. Never will be. I called my friend that was waiting for me and she offered excellent advice by staying on the phone and laughing at me. I opened all the windows and the doors and started throwing things at my nemesis hoping it would fly off. Eventually it did and I learned my lesson, never leave my car windows cracked open when there is week-old food in my car.

That's the story. Not much, but I still feel like a survivor. I did not even get stung, and definitely did not get stung in an embarrassing place as happened to a friend of mine a while back. Still, that is my life. Not on the edge, but not extremely uneventful. 'Til next time.
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So What if I am not Typical? I'm Still Fun. by Not Typical, Yet Fun is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.