Six Months... And Counting!

Enough apologies. I will start writing about the trip to Portland... ish. Me and the BF were scheduled to fly out to Portland on our sixth month anniversary. I showed up at his house promptly at around ten or eleven in the morning. Our flight was not until two in the afternoon but the BF likes getting to the airport two hours in advance. Just in case. I was still early enough that we had a chance to go out to brunch and to exchange gifts. I know, six months does not seem like a gift day but, at that moment, it was the longest we had been together and we felt the occassion merited presents. I won't bore you with the details of my present but will tell you that I received a beautiful decoration owl. If you think there is something out there that would say happy six month anniversary better than an owl, you obviously don't know me that well. Anyway, around noon, we headed over to the airport so the adventure could begin.

Before the adventure can begin, I must inform you of a small situation that happened a few weeks before the trip. I think I have mentioned before that the BF travels a lot for work. Because of that, he was able to book the two flights for a very, very, ridiculously low price by using points. On top of that, we had decided to get a rental car while we were in Portland and he was able to get one at an incredibly affordable price thanks to points too. At this point, I felt like I was taking advantage of his generosity. That's why I decided to pay for the hotel. I figured it was the least that I could do. We were looking around for hotels near the area where my friends live. There was a local hotel called Aladdin Inn within half a mile of my friend's house. This, to me, seemed ideal as the closer to my friends the hotel was, the better it was for me. We tentatively decided on that one but we didn't book anything. A few days later, I was talking to the BF on the phone and he informed me that he went ahead and booked a hotel. I asked which hotel and he said he had booked a different hotel about five miles away from where Hillary and Zeke lived. I was a bit upset. He thought I was upset because of the price difference since the new hotel was a chain hotel and about fifty bucks a night more expensive. I told him that it was not the price, or at least not just the price, that upset me but that he would make that decision without consulting me. He said that the other hotel looked shady, which it did, and that he felt safer at the other one. I told him that that was all well and good, but he should have let me know beforehand instead of going behind my back. Why do I tell you all this? I have a point, believe me. I will make it later.

Back to the begginging of the adventure. We got to the airport and I let him take care of all the details about getting the tickets and going through security. Btw, I hated going through security. It felt invasive... and not in a good way. I mean, I had to take my shoes off, and I don't like doing that, and I didn't even get a patdown. It was very disappointing. The airport was kind of boring but that changed the minute we had to board. I started getting a bit nervous as I had only flown once before and I did not really remember it that well. The BF gave me my boarding pass and told me that they were going to scan it at the gate but to hold on to it. I said ok. I am following him and I see that they are taking the board passes and not just scanning them. Before I get a chance to ask him about that, he hands his pass to the attendant and walks down the gate. At that moment, I figure I might as well just hand over the pass since everyone else is doing so, but I still had some misgivings. I come to find out that the reason the BF left me behind was that Zeke had asked us to bring his guitar to Portland and the BF was letting me carry it on because he was not sure if it qualified as a carry-on and he did not want to deal with that. I was not happy when I found out about that. Fortunately, guitars apparently qualify as carry-ons because there was no incident. We have a seat and get ready for take off and I am decidedly more nervous. The BF has pulled out a book and is attempting to read it. I say attempting because I keep reading over his shoulder and asking questions and just generally bugging him. He then tells me that he hopes I don't get motion sickness as it tends to happen to some people. At this point, I am very grateful that he informed me, a confirmed psychosomatic, of this little detail as I was sure to get motion sick now. The plane started taxiing and I get even more nervous, not to mention a bit nauseated, so I ramp up my rambling conversation and intrusion into his book reading. I am debating whether or not my life should be flashing before my eyes but I can't quite decide. I felt the way I feel when I am being carried up the first big drop of a rollercoaster and all I can hear is the chains clink as I ascend higher and higher. In the midst of my panic, the BF turns to me and plainly and clearly states, "I am never flying with children." I am not gonna say that I was happy with that comment but, let me tell you, anger does wonder to calm your nerves. I focused my gaze on an open window and just enjoyed the view while I worked on slowing my breathing and calming down. I still think I did great on the flight for a guy that does not like heights and has control issues, regardless of what the BF said.

The rest of the flight was uneventful. I took out my copy of 1984 which I was trying to finish. I failed at my attempt to finish it but it kept me busy even if it almost put me to sleep. After we landed, we got into the rental car and we started driving towards the hotel. I am so grateful we live in an age that has GPS. I did notice though that the address the BF put into the GPS was not the address for the hotel we were staying at. Here's where that second paragraph comes into play. I had asked Hillary and Zeke if we could meet Thursday instead of Wednesday so that I could spend the anniversary with the BF. They had agreed and that is why the BF booked the hotel without tellling me. He had booked the one that was five miles away for the rest of the stay, but he had gotten a hotel in downtown Portland next to the river for that first night. It was really romantic, actually, which made me feel a bit bad about giving him such a hard time before.

We checked into the hotel and this is the view out our room window,

Forgive the glass glare, or, enjoy the BF's selfie. Whichever caption you prefer.

It was a very beautiful sight. That night, when I got up to have a drink of water, the moon was reflecting off the surface of the river and shining upon a white boat. It was a very pretty sight and I thought of taking a picture but then decided that I would just go to bed and keep that image to myself. I am selfish like that.

That evening, we went walking around Portland and my aversion to bikers and runners started, but more on that later. At that point, I was not bothered by the bikers yet. We found this pub and decided to have dinner there. We walked in and saw what I imagine heaven would look like if it existed.

That wall contains more than 600 different kinds of bottles of liquor. As I said before, heaven!

 It was supposed to be an authentic Irish pub, and the menu informed us that it holds the world record for the biggest Irish coffee. I ordered me some sheppherd's pie that closely resembled Mexican ground beef stew and had vegetables in it that I had never heard of before or since because I just spent ten minutes trying to remember what vegetable the BF told me was in it and I can't remember it. I think it was rhubarb but I want to say that's wrong. Regardless, it was ok and had freaky vegetables on it. Afterwards, we walked along the waterfront and saw one of the drawbridges rise. I asked the BF to take a picture of it but he was too slow and looking elsewhere and he missed it. Drawbridges aren't quick, mind you. He was just really focused on something that he thought was a boat but turned out to be a pillar for one of the other bridges. He IS smart, y'all. I don't know why I felt the need to write that but I think that sometimes I paint a less than flattering portrait of him. It's just that it's the blond moments he has that make him special, not shortbus special mind you, and funny and that I share with you.

After that, we had a few drinks at the hotel bar before retiring early as it had been a long day and we had to meet with Hillary and Zeke the next day. I shall stop for now as I don't want to write all about Portland in a single post and because I only have twenty minutes to edit this before it posts. Talk to you all next week.

Yet Another Apology

I have been meaning to write about the trip to Portland before I forget all the details. Unfortunately, I have been swamped at work and have been too busy to start writing the long post that the trip will undoubtedly be. Also, I spent all day yesterday sleeping and recovering from a night of drinking. I have also been super busy watching Supernatural as you all know how important it is that I watch my shows. Yes, even if I have watched them in the past. And, no, I do not just watch it for the guys, though they are a nice incentive. Anyway, I don't even have a picture to share with you guys today. I figure if I was just going to write an apology, I should just make it short and not waste too much of your time. I swear to try and have better material next week. Hope you are all have a great week and I will be back next week.

Procrastination Continuation, or, The Good Night

So, I know I should be writing about my trip to Portland before I forget but I have a feeling that writing all that will take forever and I just haven't had time to sit down and start writing everything. However, this post will not be a last minute post like the last two have been. I actually have a story to tell this time and I am writing it a couple of days in advance. Now, the story I am about to tell may not be the greatest story but I am sure it will do. Before we get to the actual story, though, I will give you some background.

I have a tendency to enjoy the darker side of human emotions. It doesn't make much sense to most people but it does to me and that is all that matters. It's actually kind of hard for me to get depressed because, as soon as I realize that I am depressed, I get excited about it which alleviates the depression. I still try my hardest to be be depressed as I believe that the whole gambit of human emotions are to be experienced and, dare I say, enjoyed as they are what makes us human. Along these same lines, I tend to enjoy when things go horribly awry. I don't like the middle ground as I prefer the extremes. Things either have to go perfect, or near perfect, or terribly wrong for me to enjoy them. If only a few things go wrong, it just ruins it for me and I get annoyed. However, if nothing or everything goes wrong, I tend to enjoy it. Point in case, a few weeks back the BF and I were going to watch a movie. That's not relevant so don't pay it any attention. Before the movie, we decided to have a bite to eat. We were not too hungry so we decided to just go to Subway. Now, my favorite Subway sandwich is the foot-long meatball sub on jalapeno cheddar bread with pepper jack cheese, olives, a little bit of onions and Parmesan cheese. You don't need to know all that. All you have to know is that I like the meatball sub. We arrived at the Subway closest to the movie theater and the BF, being a gentleman, let me go first. Mainly because I don't let anything or anyone stand between me and my food. It was a Saturday night which apparently is a slow night at Subways because there was only one employee. I ordered my sandwich and the sandwich artist, their preferred title, informed us that this was his second day on the job. He asked me if I wanted my sandwich toasted and I answered with a resounding, "Yes, please." I know that does not sound resounding but believe me when I tell you that it resounded the way I said it. He put my sub in the toaster oven and he started making a second meatball sandwich for the BF whose choice had been influenced by my own. The toaster timer went off. I looked at the sandwich artisan but he did not seem too concerned by it as he continued making the BF's sub. The toaster timer went off again and a creeping suspicion that something was off spawned within me. The sub virtuoso did not seem at all concerned though so I chalked it up to my paranoia. When the Subway handicrafter finished fixing the BF's sandwich and opened the door to the toaster to switch subs, we noticed that mine had been burnt. The poor guy got all flustered and apologized about the burnt sandwich and offered to make me a new one. I happily agreed and he started making a second sandwich for me after he put the BF's sub in the toaster. This is when he realized that he did not have enough meatballs to make another sub. Unfortunately, this was after he had already spread marinara sauce all over the bread. He apologized one more time and I just told him to make me a different sandwich that would go with marinara sauce. At that point the toaster timer went off but the sub creator's attitude towards that ringing bell continued to be very blasé.  I helpfully pointed out that the timer had gone out and he replied that the oven would stop heating by itself. Seeing as to how my first sub had burned I insisted that he open the toaster door and we found the BF's sub crisper than was expected but, thankfully, not burnt. The sandwich maker then asked if I wanted my new sandwich toasted and I replied with a kind, but emphatic, "No, thank you." At this point, I could tell that the whole situation was unnerving the BF. The sandwich artiste had already finished making the BF's sandwich so I asked the BF to find a table, which wasn't hard to do on the nigh empty diner, and to get our drinks while my sub was finished. With the BF gone and my sandwich completed, the sub composer/cashier/only employee proceeded to ring me up. I handed over my card and when I got my receipt back I realized that he had overcharged me. He had charged me for three drinks and we only really needed two what with the free refills and all. At this moment, I could not feel worse for the guy if I tried. He had a few other people waiting to be helped and he did not know how to fix my ticket and, when he tried calling his manager, his call went to voicemail. He kept apologizing and offering me some cookies in exchange for the drink price. I just smiled, declined his cookie offer as we really did not want any cookies, and instructed him to just give the extra drink to the people waiting in line behind us. He thanked me with a sheepish lopsided smile of relief and hurried over to help the next customers. I grabbed my sandwich and headed over to the table the BF had chosen and sat down. He looked up at me and asked me why I was smiling and I told him that I had really enjoyed my Subway experience. When he asked me why I told him that it was not because it made me feel superior, it's not that at all (really!!!), but because it reminded me that people were still human and that we, as humans, can cause hiccups and disrupt even the most streamlined designs that scientific management can throw our way. In a way, it reminds me that mistakes are what makes us human and they remind me that we are alive. I don't think he really quite got it. I think he usually thinks I am crazy and just goes along for the ride because it is easier than arguing with crazy. But, there is a method to my madness, or, at the very least, I have to believe that.

Why did I tell y'all that story? Was that the whole point of this post? Maybe, but no. Not at all. We are just getting started, so, buckle up. The reason I mentioned that story is so that you can maybe understand my frame of mind yesterday night which could possibly be considered a very bad night. It all started with a horrible week. It had been a terrible week at work. I was actually having to work and I am a strong believer that my current employers are paying me enough to show up everyday and work every once in a while, but I am not getting paid enough to actually work all day, everyday. So, last night, after I got off work, I had a plan. Let me set it up for you bullet point-style,

• I was going to go to the store after work to pick up some wasp spray as they were building a new nest right outside my door.
• I was going to go home and change into shorts and a t-shirt in order to go into the very hot shed and look for a post-hole digger Dad wanted and that Sister would take to him on Friday.
• I was going to spray the wasps with the recently acquired wasp spray.
• I was going to have some dinner.
• I was going to do dishes and clean the kitchen.
• I was going to clean my room and bathroom.
• I was going to take out the trash as Thursdays are trash day which I made clear in a previous post.
• I was going to take a shower.
• I was going to watch an episode of Supernatural.
• I was going to go to sleep.

I had everything planned. I had even planned a bowel movement but figured I would leave that out of the list for the sake of decency. The best laid plans... though. At first, it started out smoothly. I went to the store and bought two cans of wasp spray. One to use that day and another just in case I they decided to build a new nest again. I would have made a great boy scout since I am always prepared except for their whole anti-gay agenda of course. I also bought stuff to make sandwiches because that sounded good for dinner. I even bought some bolillos, a type of Mexican bread, and some avocado. I digressed from the plan a bit, but I had to have something for dinner so I did not feel that bad about it. Usually, it is when I get home that I abandon all plans I have made for the evening and end up just watching TV. Not yesterday though. I got home and, since I was not hungry yet, decided to change and head out to the shed. I grabbed the keys to the shed and locked the door behind me. I, however, failed to grab my house keys, a mistake I realized the moment the door clicked shut behind me. I don't have an extra key. I used to have a key hidden outside but we changed our locks about a year ago and I never hid another copy. My first instinct was to panic. Then I realized that the Old Man should come back soon. The time was around 6:30 pm and he can't drive in the dark so he should be home before sunset. With that in mind, I decided to head to the shed to get the post-hole digger. The temperature yesterday was over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. It was a lot hotter inside that shed. On top of that, and despite the many wonderful qualities Dad possesses, being organized is not one of Dad's strong points. He tends to hoard stuff, which has worked to our advantage before, but without an organizational schematic, that shed, to continue quoting The Big Bang Theory, was a swirling vortex of entropy. Scratch that. It was a sweltering, fever-inducing, blister-creating swirling vortex of entropy. In Dad's defense, he did have all his shovels and long-handled tools in the same area in the back. In Dad's offense, if that is how you say it as I am not clear on the correct terminology, there was no clear path to them. At one point I was stepping on a lawnmower while straddling a bicycle and using a crutch to try and move the handle of the digger within arm distance. Needless to say, a misstep would have been a very painful, and dangerous, development. After about fifteen to twenty minutes of acrobatic feats the likes of which I never thought myself capable of achieving, I was standing outside the shed with the post-hole digger in hand. I felt accomplished. At least I did until I remembered I was locked outside of the house. Then the wait began.

The Old Man has a cell number but I did not want to disrupt his evening with my stupidity. I went back to the porch and, being careful to avoid the wasps, had a seat in a white plastic chair and started waiting. I realized that I may have to cut my to-do list down depending on what time the Old Man made it back. I figured I would still be able to get the wasp nest because that way I could spray it after the Old Man went inside and that way he would not be exposed to the harsh chemicals. The bottle even recommended that one spray in the evening when the wasps are less active. I figure I could at least get that done and then get at least some of the cleaning done. While I was waiting, I decided to play Candy Crush Saga. I refuse to play anything on Facebook as I refuse to get on Facebook much anymore. Also, I know how annoying it can get to keep getting requests for lives and stuff of that sort so I decided to play it solo. What that means is that at the end of every section, you have to pass three specific stages to unlock the new section. Each time you pass one of the stages, you have to wait twenty-four hours to play the next one. I was in the middle of one of those twenty-four hour periods so I started playing from the beginning again trying to beat my own scores. That kept me busy for about an hour. Yes, an hour. Bear with me, I still have a ways to go. Next I decided to text people whom I have been meaning to contact but hadn't had time. I had time now. I had nothing but time and about forty-five percent battery left. Well, I got to catch up with some people and I did not hear back from a few others which made me question whether or not I should keep their numbers. I have not decided yet. After another hour had passed, I looked around and noticed that, although there was still some light, the sun had set. I decided to give in and call the Old Man. Unfortunately, he did not answer. I figured I would give him a few minutes and call him back. At around 9:00 pm I called him again. This time, he answered. When I asked where he was, he had no qualms in explaining that he had found a boil in his fundillo, as he put it, and he was at the hospital. If you did not follow that link to the Urban Dictionary definition, the word he so eloquently used is crude Mexican slang for "butt". Point being, he was going to have to spend the night at the hospital. I told him about my predicament and he said that I could come by and pick up an extra key he had. I was now faced with the daunting task of finding a ride to the hospital. I called Sister but she didn't answer. She sent me a text saying that she would call me back in a minute. I texted back telling her to make sure to do so. Well, it was after nine at night and I had ten percent battery left and there was only about a fifty percent chance Sister would call me back. I decided to look online for locksmiths but then changed my mind because I don't want to know how easy it would be, for someone with the know-how, to break into my house. I decided to start walking to the hospital, as I only live about two miles away, and hope for the best. I figured, worst case scenario, I would call a taxi and pay them once I got into the house. I started walking and I thanked my lucky stars that I was wearing a white shirt because most of the way I had to walk did not have a sidewalk and I had to walk on the shoulder. I remembered from my Driver's Ed class that, if you had to walk on the side of the road, it was better to walk on the side of oncoming traffic. The reason for that is that you can see a car coming and have a chance to get out of the way if the driver fails to see you. Despite the fact that I had very low battery, I was texting Preggo while I walked. When she was caught up on the whole situation, she said she was sorry I was having such a bad night. The problem was that I was not having a horrible night. I was quite happy in fact. Almost euphorically actually. I tried to explain it to her but she replied by saying that she did not understand me but that it did not matter as it was part of what made me special. Luckily, fifteen minutes and a quarter mile into my journey, Sister called me back. I answered and asked her if she had a key to my place and she said she didn't. When she asked me why I was asking her that, I told her that I had been locked out of the house for about three hours and was currently walking towards the hospital to get an extra key from the Old Man. I think at that point she was kind of exasperated with me. She kept asking me how come I had not told her that earlier. I said that I had called her and that she had texted me saying that she would call me back so I was waiting for her to call me back. She then informed me that being locked out for three hours was an emergency and that I should have texted her back informing her of my situation and that she would have come sooner. I was not aware that being locked out was an emergency but I am glad to know that for future reference. Actually, I thought being locked out was a very stupid, thoughtless mistake but to each their own. Sister and Brother-in-law (Bil) came to pick me up and, after a failed attempt to jimmy my door open with a Starbucks gift card, drove me to the hospital. BTW, I was very glad to find out the house could not be broken into using a five dollar Starbucks gift card. If there was a silver lining, that was definitely it. When we arrived at the hospital, Sister told me to tell the Old Man that I had gotten a ride from a friend so that he wouldn't go into long health explanations. I walked into the hospital and was immediately reminded of the horrible state I was in. I was wearing blue basketball shorts, a white undershirt, gray dress socks, and slip-on blue plaid shoes. To say I was embarrassed to be seen in public like that is an understatement. It did not matter that there were people dressed worse than me at the emergency waiting room, this was probably the low point of the evening. I arrived at the Old Man's room and was careful enough to knock before I entered to give him enough time to become decent. It did not matter though. He was wearing a hospital gown but we all know that those things don't close in the back and I got an eyeful of old man tighty-whiteys. Scratch what I said earlier, this was definitely the low point of the evening. He grabbed his wallet and handed me a spare key. It was not the house key. I told him that and he insisted that it was. I told him that it looked like a car key and that is when he remembered that he had made a copy of his truck key. He dug into his wallet one more time and fished out two more keys, one for his P.O. Box and the extra key to the house. I tried to leave as soon as possible, just as my sister had instructed me, but was unable to extricate myself from the room without first hearing about how they had given him a shot in the buttocks to numb them and that then they had lanced the boil and squeezed a whole bunch of pus out of it. As bad as hearing that was, it still did not take the low point of the evening prize from the earlier exhibitionist show.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. I made my way back to Sister and Bil and they proceeded to drive me back to my place. I gave them the extra key for them to keep in case of future "emergencies." as they called them, as I know I am careless enough to lock myself out again. After they left, I made myself some dinner and sat down to watch Supernatural as I ate. It was eleven o'clock at night, my whole plan was shot to hell (pardon my French but it seemed appropriate), but I had had a very pleasant evening. As near perfect as I am, I like having these kind of nights when I am reminded of how human I still am. Ironically, as much of a misanthrope as I am, I do cherish when my humanity shows up unexpectedly. I know this is not a perfect story, but that is why I like it. I am tired of perfection. Humanity is imperfect and it is time we let our imperfections shine through. I am getting off my high horse now. 'Til next week.

I Have Failed You...

I know that today y'all were expecting to hear about the wonderful vacation I had and I am ashamed to say that I have failed you.I procrastinated, as I often do and failed to get anything written down. I was planning on writing the post last night but I did not get home until midnight and, considering I had to be at work this morning, I had to go to bed. I am still trying to keep up with the one post per Monday theme and that is why I am writing this short post. I don't have much to write so I will just try to make a bulleted random list. I know I don't do well with those but right now it is all I have so here goes nothing.

• To begin with, I am kind of disappointed that no one requested a copy of the awesome picture I posted last week. I thought it was pretty awesome but I guess I overvalued how good it was.
• I started eating oatmeal in the mornings because I have heard that it is good to eat breakfast.
• I have learned that I don't really like oatmeal but I already bought a whole box of the little packets so I think I will stick with it for a while.
• I watched the movie The Heat twice this weekend.
• I am pretty sure that the guy in front of me the second time was annoyed at me for laughing before the jokes happened on screen.
• I also saw the Smurfs 2 this weekend.
• I did not put a hyperlink to the smurfs movie because I refuse to submit you guys to it.
• What little entertainment can be gleaned from the smurfs movie is from reading the reviews on by the critics on the moviefone app. I tell you that some of those critics are pretty witty.
• That being said, the movie was not all that bad. It was better than the first one but that is not really saying much now is it?
• The BF and I are very excited about the discovery of adults only theaters.
• No, not that kind of adult theater. Just the kind where they show regular movies but they ask for ID as they do not let anyone under 21 in. They are pricier than the average theater rooms but the commodity of not having a kid kicking the back of your seat is totally worth it.
• Also, they have recliners. 'Nuff said.
• My sister has been working hard to decorate my niece's bedroom while she is away with my mom in Mexico. She painted that room a shade of pink so bright that, in the picture she sent me, it seems like the ceiling, which is white, and the carpet, which is a light beige, are pink as well.
• No, the brightness of the color are not assuaged in person. I swear that when I close my eyes I can't see black anymore and all I see is pink. Pink is the new black.
• I will not post the picture because I care about you and your eyeballs. You can thank me later.
• "That cat took one look at your shitty life and said I'm outta here." He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.
• I was gonna post a new picture in lieu of a good post today but, since demand for the previous photo was less than satisfactory,

I was gonna write more and even proofread this post but it is one minute to lunchtime, and my personally set deadline to post, so I gotta go.

A Very Short Excuse for a Post

Dear everyone,

I have just come back from my trip to Portland and I have many things to tell you. Unfortunately, I haven't had time to write it all yet. That is why today's post will be more visual than verbal because I want to keep up with having a post every Monday. Here is a panoramic picture of the Cannon Beach in Oregon. I tried uploading it at maximum file size so that way you could, if you wanted to of course, download it and have a better look. I don't think it worked though. I hope you enjoy it anyway.


The guy with the camera in the picture is some random guy from the beach. I could not get him to move so I could take my panoramic picture.

Sorry the picture is small and hard to see but that was the only size it would show up in the blog. Feel free to download it to try and get a better view or leave me a message with an email and I can send you a copy of the original which may be easier to see. I think for it being my first panoramic attempt, it came out pretty well. The beaty of the landscape helps as well so I can't take all the credit. Screw that, I am taking all the credit. I took an amazing picture and I hope you like it as much as I do.

A Few Random Thoughts

This week's post will probably be very short, but I have a very good reason for it. I will be going on vacation on Wednesday and I am still not ready. There is so much stuff to do, mainly because I have procrastinated but there is no point in assigning blame, that I am starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. I will be going to visit Hillary and Zeke in Portland, Oregon. I am very excited about it, I think. I don't show excitement well. It will be cool to visit Portland and to see if it is anything like Portlandia portrays it. For those in the know, I am very worried that when I am done packing I will forget to put a bird on my suitcase. Cacao! (It means something, I promise though it may be more of an inside joke.) Since I still have a whole lot to do, I will attempt a random post. I apologize it for it in advance as I know that my attempts in the past have not gone so well. Anyway, here we go...

• The way I ended that sentence made me think of when Noodle says "Here you go" in the song 19-2000 by Gorillaz.
• Yes, I go on tangents like that quite often.
• Point in case, I lost like fifteen minutes from the first bullet point to the next because I started looking up Gorillaz and whatever new music they have out. 
• I am actually listening to them right now. 
• About the vacation, I will take a plane for the first time in my life and I am a little bit nervous.
• I just lied to you in the last bullet point. It will be the second time I fly but the first time I was fifteen and it was right after my brother passed away so I don't remember it well.
• Plus, this will be my first time flying after 9/11 and, again for those in the know, my middle name sounds kind of middle eastern-y and that is of concern to me.
• If I had one, I would wear a sarape or sombrero so that it will be clear to TSA officials that I am Mexican and not middle eastern.
• And, more importantly, I am definitely not a Muslim. As an atheist, I can't stress that enough.
• I really want to avoid going through any invasive searches. I have only been frisked once and it was only nominally fun so I doubt that something more invasive would be more fun.
• Not to disparage those that would enjoy it. I mean, to each their own.
• The BF is coming on the trip and I am kind of worried that he will be bored as his sense of humor and mine differ greatly and Hillary and Zeke share my sense of humor. I can just see Hillary, Zeke and me in laughing fits and the BF just looking at us with a tilted head trying to figure out what is wrong with us.
• That being said, I am glad he is coming. If nothing else, he will help with the flight anxiety, if there is any.
• Also, Wednesday will be our six month anniversary so it will be a reason to celebrate.
• Something else that worries me, and this may be TMI but I often over-share anyway, is the bathroom situation. I always been uncomfortable with bodily functions and I will be sharing a hotel room with the BF for four and a half days.
• I know that should not be a big deal but I am childish about somethings. For instance, I hate the word "fart." I don't find it funny and it makes me uncomfortable.
• On a different, and quite less disgusting note, Preggo sent me this pic a few days ago,

  

  She sent it with the caption, and I quote, "Memories :(" 

• I know that the picture itself means nothing to you, but that was the park where I sat for three hours hoping to hear from my parents the time they left me in Odessa. 
• I am glad to finally have  a pictorial reminder of the time my parents taught me that I should not expect them to not leave me 300 miles from home.
• I think I had it coming, it's been three years now so I don't remember it, but did it ever open my eyes.
• It wasn't all bad though. I like to believe that I am stronger for it.
• On a sadder note, that was the last time I saw my then best friend Jenny as she gave me a ride home after a took a bus to Abilene.
• There is a wasp nest outside my house and I went to buy wasp and hornet killer yesterday so I feel pretty butch about that.
• Now I am kind of scared of using it and being stung so any butch feeling is gone. I will get it done though. I just don't know when.

I think I shall end this post now. Once again, I apologize for it but I do think it is better than nothing. I mean, it even has a picture on it so what else could I have done to make it better? Plus, it's 1:37 p.m. right now and I have yet to have something to eat so I need to take care of me now. Hope you all have a great week. I know that after two days of work my week will suddenly get way better.

I Am Learning, Little by Little Mind You, That I Am Human.

Before I get into the details of my humanity and all, a quick update on last week's post. Yes, I am still a vegetarian. No, not for much longer. I will actually be giving it up in two days. You may be asking yourself why while raising your hands above your head exasperatedly. Well, there are several reasons. The main one being that of the three people that started in July, I am the only one still doing it. It's a lot more fun being a vegetarian when everyone else is doing it and you have someone to commiserate about the fact that you have to pay the same amount for a dish with four sides and no entree even if it is not as fulfilling as what everyone else is getting. Another reason for giving it up is because I am going on vacation to Portland in a week and a half and I want to be able to enjoy my vacation without having to worry about what to eat. Also, I am starting to eat meat a week in advance of my vacation so that my stomach gets used to it again and to avoid any episodes as I know I will be stressed enough by the travel alone. Other than that, I did enjoy my little forage into vegetarianism. I do believe sometime I will be able to do a permanent transition to a vegetarian diet but that may just be wishful thinking.

On a different note, they have changed my work duties, however temporarily, so I am unsure if I will have time to type this from work as I used to do it in my down time. It's not really good news though. Duties have been added to my schedule and I will even have to spend time away from my desk but there will be no pay increase and I am already frustrated with the way things are being handled. Since I am unaware of how much down time I will have, I may have to start writing from home. What will this mean to you? Nothing really. I will still try to do a new post every Monday. However, the length of the post may be considerably shorter to allow me time to go about my daily life, i.e. watching TV, drinking and such. Anyway, enough with the intros and on with the main point of this post.

So, after much thought and consideration, I have arrived at the conclusion that I am human, after all, with human emotions and everything. You may be wondering why my humanity was up for discussion but I am not a typical human. Especially when it comes to emotions. Yes, it is possible to bring me to tears but it's not through typical means. A good poem, recently W.B. Yeats Easter, 1916, a good movie, Fernando Leon De Aranoa's Princesas, or a good song, Stavesacre's Gold & Silver, will have me bawling like an infant. Yet, the tale of someone's misfortune or death just revs my brain into overdrive trying to find the most hilariously inappropriate comment I can make. I am often accused of being heartless and when that happens I often have no more recourse than to shrug my shoulders and agree with my accuser. It's not all great though. It does bother me that sometimes people don't tell me things because they are afraid that I will make fun of whatever they are going through. They don't understand that I am totally capable of exercising restraint and, though I will make light of the situation, I know when not to do it in front of them. I guess some people will always find a way to make everything about themselves though.

I have no idea where my callousness comes from so I will simply have to blame Medea. She was never really expressive of her emotions and I guess I learned from her. I remember that when I was a kid and used to hug her she would ask me what had gotten into me and if I had dreamed that she had died again. Most of the time, she was right as I would only hug her if I had a particularly vivid dream in which she died and when, upon waking, I was glad to see that she was still alive. However, that gladness was short-lived by her abrupt reception and accusing remarks of how I did not appreciate her unless I thought she was dead. Thus I learned to not express any emotion that may be seen as weakness and preyed upon. I called this living.

I have recently realized though that, even if I don't acknowledge them, the feelings are still there if buried deep within me and so strange to me that I almost do not recognize them when they dare surface. Two such cases happened a few weeks ago and they all happened due to the amazing person that is willing to put up with all my quirks, the BF.

The first one happened on a Tuesday. I don't remember exactly what was going on. I think he was in town but for some reason we had not seen each other in a while. We had talked daily but only for a few minutes because we both had things to do. On Tuesday, we talked as soon as I got off work but once again we had to cut the talk short for some reason or other. We always said we would talk later, but I knew that he would not call back til the next day. After I finished dinner and while I was watching TV and with no good reason for doing so, I called him. When he answered, I had nothing to say. I really had not thought it through. Nothing had happened since we had talked earlier and I found myself telling him that I had called him because it seemed like we had not talked enough even if I had nothing more to say. He gave a quick laugh and said that I had called him because I missed him. I immediately recoiled at his accusation because missing someone is something that I just don't do since it seems a sign of weakness. After all, I don't need anyone because I can take care of myself. I balked at his arrogant assumption and told him nothing could be further from the truth. The subject was then changed and we ended up talking on the phone for about an hour. While I was falling asleep that night, I was still thinking of his accusation that I missed him. I realized then that he was right. I was missing him but I did not recognize it because I have never really missed anyone in my life. I live a pretty independent life and I stay in touch with the people I want to stay in touch with when I want to stay in touch with them. I do not even miss my family. I feel more comfortable when my parents are here because my mom cooks and I know they are all right, but I never have the desire to call them and just talk to them. In fact, since they are in Mexico, I have to remind myself and force myself to call them once every two weeks. I was not aware that I could miss someone and, at first, was embarrassed that I could miss someone. I felt weak and stupid for letting someone influence how I felt. Thankfully, the second case which happened two days later changed my perspective.

Two days later, we had started making plans for the weekend. I was planning on spending the weekend at his place. We had been texting plans back and forth all day but when I called him after work he told me that the plans had changed. See, the BF has a dog, puppy as he likes to call him as he dislikes the word "dog," named Diesel. Since the BF travels a lot for work, he leaves Diesel with a friend of his that also has a dog, Nora. Therefore, whenever the BF is in town, he has to take care of two dogs, puppies, as they keep them together. That however is not important. What is important is that he told me that his friend was coming into the Dallas area for the weekend and that he was going to stay at his place so that our plans had to change. I felt an uneasiness at that moment but chalked it up to the fact that I don't like it when plans change. I told him that it was OK though because we could change our plans to accommodate his friend easily. I was not aware of anything unusual until the next morning when I woke up and remembered what I had dreamt. The BF's friend has a name that can easily be seen as unisex. I don't feel comfortable revealing his name so let it suffice that, in my dream, the BF's friend turned out to be a woman and that, upon meeting "her," my mind was put at ease. It took me a minute to realize that I was jealous. I have always stated that I am not a jealous person, but I have never really had a relationship, so I did not know for sure. In this case, the BF has a friend that shares with him his animals and love of animals and whom I never met and I was a little bit jealous. I was not even aware of it on a conscious level but, obviously, subconsciously I was troubled by it. Now, I have always maintained that jealousy is pointless but I should amend that to say that "excessive jealousy" is pointless. As things stand, I don't begrudge the BF having friends, but it is nice to know that I care enough to feel some jealousy as long as it does not affect the relationship.

I was super excited that I was jealous, to say the least. It was then that I realized that if being subconsciously jealous of the BF was a good thing, missing him was a good thing too. I told my friends at work about my new discovery as soon as I got to work and they were surprised and were the first to say that I may be human after all. I was elated for the rest of the day and told the BF the good news as soon as I saw him that night. He was not as excited about the new developments as I was but I don't think he understood how monumental these changes were. They kind of re-defined who I was which is not easy as I try to be a very self-actualized person. Also, I had proof that I was a person because persons miss people and get jealous. He still did not quite fully grasp why I was so excited kind of like he does not understand how I can enjoy being depressed. He's got a lot to learn about me but the good thing is that, apparently, so do I and I can't wait to find out what else there is to learn. I am a scholar after all.