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.

Happy New Year!

So what if I am a month late? I still hope you have a happy new year. Also, I know it has been almost two months since my last post.What can I say? I have been lazy. I can't say that there has not been anything to write about because there has. I cannot say that I haven't had time to write because I have watched about 7 seasons of SNL reruns on Netflix in the past month alone. What is my excuse then? I simply don't have one. Since it has been a long time though, now that I am back, I will attempt to catch you guys up in what is going on in my life.

First things first, Medea came and went to Mexico. She spent about six weeks over there taking care of her mom since her health is not what it used to be. Nothing about her is what it used to be. I mean, after all, she is old. As a matter of fact, when I wrote the last blog entry on December 12, Medea was already in Mexico. My dad, my sister and I went to drop her off on the weekend of Thanksgiving and my dad and I went to pick her up sometime in mid-January.  If you remember last time I drove to Mexico with my parents, when my dad's father died, I was left behind in Odessa (although to hear my parents tell it, I left them in Odessa with the car so they were the abandoned ones). I was hesitant to go to Mexico because of obvious reasons, but Medea said her mom was really ill and that she would like for me to go because this could be the last time I got to see my grandma, the last of my grandparents, alive. Although I am pretty much immune to most guilt trips, I fell for this one. The trip to drop her off was uneventful except for a horrible allergy reaction that made me break out in hives that itched like crazy. I still don't know what caused them. I went to the doctor in Mexico and despite the fact that he prescribed two shots, it did not get better. I had to go to the doctor once I came back to the US and I had to take steroids. I, of course, did not hear the end of it from my family. They kept saying that I was way too American now and that I was allergic to Mexico. It did not matter that the allergic reaction started in El Paso, which is technically, and I mean barely technically, still the US. The trip to go pick her up was even more uneventful.  Although, when we stopped for lunch at Midland, I did text Preggo to let her know that I had made it past Odessa this time.

This brings me to the next subject, Preggo. In a way, it is thanks to her that I am writing this entry right now. It's not that I don't want to write but it is so much easier to just sit and watch TV. She is always pestering me, in a good way, to write a new entry. She is the one that, shall I say, demanded that I write an entry since I did not work today because of the wintry weather. As a sidenote, she did not work either and I don't see her starting her own blog. She did however start her own facebook and, although now everyone and their mom has a facebook, it is a big step for her. Well, she is now back at work from her maternity leave. As I mentioned before, I think I did anyway and I am too lazy to go back and check whether or not I did so I will just continue assuming that I did, she had a baby girl sometime last year. The girl's name is not "The Thing" as I have been informed countless times by Preggo. I would use the girl's real name but I don't feel at liberty to disclose it, and I can't ever remember it most of the time, so I will call her "Phoebe", like the character from Friends (obscure enough of a reference or should I make it even more so?). The problem had become what to call Preggo since she is not pregnant anymore. I have reached a decision, heretofore she shall be known and addressed as "Preggo". Why? Because it is easier to just keep calling her what I have called her so far. So y'all can rest easy since you won't have to learn a whole new nickname for the same person. One last note on Preggo, I should mention that I made her cry on her second day back at work. Apparently, sometimes I take things too far. I also think she was no longer acclimatized to my abrasive personality and the many hurtful things I say while joking around. I have already apologized to her and she has forgiven me but this is just a heads up to everyone who is, has been or will be a friend of mine, I will eventually say something that will hurt you. I may or may not apologize, depending on how I feel at the moment. I apologized on this instance but I don't plan to make it a habit. I have too much pride and I refuse to swallow any of it because I do not know how many calories it has.

On the job front, I got a promotion. You may be completely surprised to hear this since I always claim to be lazy but apparently I am a pretty good worker. I guess I like money. Not a lot, just enough.
*BREAKING NEWS: WE INTERRUPT THIS BLOG TO ANNOUNCE THAT I JUST RECEIVED NEWS THAT, DUE TO THE HAZARDOUS WEATHER CONDITIONS, MY WORK IS CANCELED AGAIN FOR TOMORROW. THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF-REPEAT. WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED BLOG.*
I am pretty psyched about the promotion. I now have my own office and my own phone extension number and my own work email. Yes, I hear what you are saying, "But Carlos, your office has no windows!" What most people don't know is that I love the fact that my office has no windows. I am really safe in the case of a hurricane, except for the fact that I am on the second floor. I was actually making a joke about how I would need fake dead plants to my friends Hill and Zeke and they came up with an ingenious solution. I was sitting in my office one day when the receptionist asked me to come downstairs. When I walked down the stairs (as I usually do since I asked for a key to the stairs to take advantage of the fact that my office is on the second floor and finally get some form of exercise), I found Hill and Zeke waiting for me and holding this:

The picture may not be too clear, but it consists of dead flowers and a spray-painted black balloon that reads "whatever." I absolutely love it. I had said I needed dead fake flowers but they upped the ante and brought me dead real flowers instead. All I have to say is that if I
*BREAKING NEWS: WE INTERRUPT THIS BLOG TO ANNOUNCE THAT I JUST RECEIVED NEWS THAT, DUE TO THE HAZARDOUS WEATHER CONDITIONS, MY WORK IS CANCELED AGAIN FOR TOMORROW. THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF-REPEAT. WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED BLOG.*
were a bouquet, this would be it. It will now sit in my office until it completely falls apart. I am lacking more decorations for my office though. I mentioned in passing to my friend Kristin that I was going to get a firemen's calendar and I think she is thinking of getting me a desk calendar with pictures of guys in them. I am excited about it which segues neatly into my next paragraph.

On romantic news, there is nothing to report.

I think that may be enough catching up. Now about the future. I do not plan on abandoning this blog. Yes, my posting cannot even be called sporadic but all I can say is that, so far, it is as consistent as I am in most everything I do. Speaking about things I do, I have a new project in mind. While I was writing my last post about Dottie and her inability to read one thousand books before she dies I wondered if I would be able to read one thousand books before I die. Granted, it is not that original but I figure it will be at least interesting to try. Of course, I will document everything here in the blog. Since I had the idea on December twelfth, I was going to try and start the project on the new year but, since I am a procrastinator supreme and I am just now getting around to mentioning it, I will try to start by March 1st, 2011. That being said, feel free to submit books that you think I should read and to tell me what your favorite books are. Since there is no way to count the books I have already read, I will start from zero and re-read some of the ones I have read previously. Each book will count once, and only once regardless of how many times I have read it or will read it, into the count for the one thousand book project. What do you think? Will this be a good idea? Will I follow through on it? I sure hope so.

Anyway, I shall stop the post for now. I am glad I had a chance to reconnect. Be aware that normal posts will hopefully resume from now on at a rate greater than, but hopefully at least, two posts a month. I have been very -ahem- "well behaved" as of late so I don't have any additions to my "Reasons I Am Going to Hell" series but I hope to resume those as well too. Furthermore, I recently acquired a Twitter account. I don't know if I will use it much but in case you are interested my username in there is cosilvar (I really don't know how to fully use it so I can't give you detailed directions on finding me so good luck, if you even look.) I guess that is all for now. Until later, sincerely, Me.

When Life Gives You Lemons...

Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been six days since my last post...

I hadn't said anything sacrilegious in a while so I figured it was about time. It is not a great piece of blasphemy but bear with me as I am rusty and bound to get better.

Moving on to more important things, the Sons of Pitches have not had a game in several weeks. First, a holiday, July 4th, interfered with the game. The week after that, the weather had turned the terrain unplayable and the two games we had that day were cancelled. This leaves the SOPs with an 0-2 record. We have a game on Sunday so let's hope we do well.

For those of you that helped name Dirty Willie, I must say that I am satisfied with the name and the more I live with it, the more I like it. I think it suits her and that she appreciates it. It may not be indicative of a prim and proper lady, but those kind of ladies hardly ever have any fun and DW is all about fun. I have a feeling that if she could speak, her lexicon would be composed of curse and risque words which would reflect her libertine take on life. In short, I like her more with this persona than when she used to be a tabula rasa that even failed to properly portray her gender. I shall keep you posted on the many adventures that D-Dub will undoubtedly have.

About The Unwanted, they are gone! Last Saturday night, as I watched rent and enjoyed a few cherry vodka sours, my mom asked me to come help her find bus tickets for The Unwanted as they were wanting to leave the next morning. I happily obliged and, come Sunday morning, I even drove them to the bus station in Dallas myself. I believe that was actually the most time I spent with them at once, the forty-five minute drive to the Dallas station. It appears that not spending long, extended periods of time with them was a good idea for in that short span of time I was ready to pull over and leave those kids stranded in the middle of the road. Fortunately, I did not and thus The Unwanted are back at their own home, away from me.

I have been meaning to write for a couple of days but I was unable as I was house-sitting and dog-sitting for a friend of mine. Although I had internet access and my laptop with me, I never had any time to write as I was too busy watching movies in her awesome theater room. On top of that, she gave me some money for helping her. I wisely spent part of this money buying a digital camera and the picture you will see later in the post would not be there if it weren't for my friend's generosity. I am now going to review the rest of the post, as it had been pre-written a week before it was posted, and I am gonna try and fix any incongruities. I apologize for any mistakes that may slip through. Now, on to the post.

This actually happened a few months back. It might have actually happened before I started this blog. I know I sent a text message to a lot of my friends and even posted a comment on facebook about it when it first happened. I think it's now time to share it with the world.

I work at a front desk with a clear view of the outside through the clear glass doors.  In fact, thanks to my new camera, the image above is what I see out my front door. I get really bored and usually just sit there looking for things to amuse me. Unfortunately there is not much to see.  I have seen a cock or two lounging around our front lawn. (Of course, I mean roosters. I just thought the wordplay would be a nice touch.)  There has been a mangy, small, dirty dog, prancing around the flowerbeds and resting under the trees. I have seen spiders and other insects making a living out there as well. I have even seen a homeless man open the cigarette butt container and look around the discarded old cigarettes looking for, and sometimes finding, something to smoke. Which reminds me, I have to stop him from doing that next time as he usually throws the useless butts on the ground instead of leaving them in the receptacle where he found them. Again, nothing too unusual. Usually.

On this particular day, I looked up and saw two brothers playing around. Not unusual at all, or so I thought. I wasn't paying much attention until I looked up and saw that one of the kids was walking on our lawn. Well, maybe not the lawn, as it was not the grass part he was walking on, but this kind of really low shrubbery type of plant that is part of our landscaping. I guess I should have looked up the name of said type of plant but that's too much work and I am lazy.  Still, since it is not really grass, people don't usually walk on it. Yet, this boy was walking through it in pursuit of his brother. Not a fast pursuit mind you. He was moving at about walking pace and had his arms outstretched before him. His brother, however, kept moving from place to place calling out to him. I could not understand what their game consisted of until the brother that was moving all around the place came close to the front door and I heard him shout, "Polo." I almost fell out of my chair when the reality of what was happening dawned on me. The kid in the weird landscaping lawn was blind and he and his brother were playing "Marco Polo." I could not stop laughing. I tried calling a few people so that they could come see what was happening but everyone was on the phone. I kept staring at the events unfolding right outside the door and kept seeing the blind boy trying to find his brother. The brother, meanwhile, kept moving around so that the blind kid kept having to walk on all kind of weird surfaces, like the weird lawn thing he was on. He also kept calling his brother from behind a tree to try to make him walk into one. I secretly kind of hoped the blind kid would have walked into a tree because it would have been hilarious. Unfortunately, and I am guessing this is because this was not their first time playing this particular game, the blind kid was too good to fall for it and walk into a tree.

To quote the comment I posted on facebook the day I saw this happen, "You haven't lived until you see a kid playing Marco Polo with his blind sibling on your front yard." This is proof that god, or whoever is in charge, has a sadistic and dark, yet hilarious, sense of humor. Talk about finding a silver lining, you know? I mean, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade. If life gives you blindness, play Marco Polo with your siblings anywhere. It's instant fun. This is proof that happiness is where you find it, as long as you don't mind what people think of you. Besides, laughter is a great thing to share and I can tell you for sure that those two kids made my day that day. Hope you enjoy the story as much as I did. Ciao.

I am a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad friend.

And a bad blogger to boot. Honestly, I have had some things to write about for a while. I just haven't made myself get on here and get with it lately. Let me update you on a few things first. No, I have not gotten my clipboard back. Yes, I wussed out and turned in her application so I don't have the thief's number anymore. I think this is a lost cause so I may have to let it go. You gotta know when to cut your losses. Next, unfortunately my jersey number for The Sons of Pitches will not be Pi, but 42. Or 44. At this point, who cares, right? Just kidding. I still love the team and am looking forward to our fourth practice. I have realized though that the sport is a lot more dangerous than I was initially told. For example, on our second practice, a ball hit me on my left thigh. I am not saying I overreacted, but I wore an athletic cup for the third practice. But when one of our teammates got hit on the chin with the ball on our third practice, I realize that a cup is not enough. I need a freakin' suit of armor to play this sport. Unfortunately, those are not easily accessible or conductive to a good range of movement. Plus, I don't think it would meet the uniform requirements. All caught up? Let's move on.

Allow me to whine for a moment. I had a horrible week. It didn't start out too bad. I was off Monday since it was Memorial Day (insert something good about soldiers here to make you feel better and make me look good). But Tuesday, oh god Tuesday, was a whole different story. Now I don't want to be all gross, but we all know I am going to so brace yourself. Let's just say that, halfway through my morning shift at work, I kept getting the urge to pee. Let's also say that, right before lunch, I realized I was peeing blood. I don't wanna say this scared the living daylights out of me, but I started writing a will before realizing I had nothing to bequeath to anyone but debts. So during lunch I went home and looked at the ever handy WebMD site. It said that it was likely a urinary tract infection. Under home remedies, it said to drink lots of fluids and specifically cranberry juice. I called work and informed them that I would be unable to return to work and immediately headed to the grocery store to buy cranberry juice. I got one of those one liter bottles of it and downed it hoping it would help. Let me just say this, cranberry juice should never be drunk without some form of liquor accompanying it. Then I just sat at the toilet for the next few hours as the urge to pee would not abate and it was pointless to go anywhere. I cannot say if the juice did much but by the end of the day I had stopped peeing blood, even though the discomfort was still there, and I thought the worst was over.

I was wrong. On Wednesday I got up and figured I would go to work. I realized, when I was driving to work, that I wasn't all there. My reaction time was slower than usual and I was moving slow. Well, slower. Touche. I must say that I hate doctors. The last time I went to one, I was forced to go by my parents. This time, I willingly made an appointment and left work shortly after I had arrived.

Later that morning when I got to the doctor's office, he was not too happy with the fact that I had not had a physical in over ten years and that I had not had a tetanus shot in just about as long. He asked what my symptoms were and I described them to him, adding that now I actually had body aches and was sore all over. He proceeded to examine me, a bit too roughly if you ask me. I mean, when he was checking for hernias and asked me to cough, I could swear he applied so much pressure a tear may have slid down my cheek. Then again, my body was just probably a bit more tender because of being sick but I still held a grudge. To make matters worse, he looked perplexed when he announced that I had a urinary tract infection. He said that men rarely ever got them. I did not say much, but what the hell? Was he questioning my manhood? I mean, he knew I was a guy. He almost made me cry while handling my equipment. Can you see why I hate doctors? Also, he said guys "rarely" got them. He did not say "never." Let's just say I was happy to get my prescription for antibiotics and get going.

Does the story get better? For most people it would after that. For me, it did not. I dropped the prescription at the pharmacy and they told me it was going to be about an hour and a half. I asked, very nice and politely, if they would please give me a call when they got the prescription ready. The nice lady said she would, so, when I got home I took a nap trusting I would receive a call to wake me up and pick my meds up. Four hours later, Medea got home from work. First thing she asked was why did I not go to work. Simple enough, I did not feel well. Plus, I did go to work, I just did not stay. I told her I had to go get my meds and she said that she would offer to go get them for me but she had to cook dinner. I figured that was fair so I went and got my own meds. They are supposed to be taken with food so I also bought a whole bunch of cans of chicken noodle soup and I picked up some Azo the doctor had recommended. For those of you who don't know what Azo is, and I speak mainly to any guy readers I might have (as if!), Azo is a urinary analgesic that makes peeing less painful when you have a UTI. It also makes your pee a bright orange which is really weird. Back to the story, I get home and start preparing a can of soup for myself so I can take the meds. I am moving really slow as my whole body aches and I am really tired. Medea, upon noticing my state, commented that the reason I felt so miserable was because I was just too lazy and had slept the day away. Oh My Freaking god!!! I could have slapped her if it hadn't taken so much energy. I was furious though. There I was taking care of myself, making my own soup, picking up my own meds, feeling like I am dying, and she has the decency to say that. She did not stop there. She said that if I wanted to feel better, I should clean around the house. When I did not respond to that she then suggested I just go outside and just walk or run for a while so I could shake the lethargy off. She wanted me to go running! I could not believe it. I was speechless, which was a good thing because who knows what I would have said. I did get her back a few minutes later though because she said that she had a headache. I quickly suggested that she go for a run to get rid of her headache. Funny, right? She didn't think so. So now she was mad because I was upset because of what she said. I have no idea how she does it, but she always turns things around and gets mad at me for being offended because she insulted me.

Anyway, I would love to say that I felt better right away but I actually felt worse before I felt better. That night I had a fever of 101 degrees. Not too high a fever. What sucked though is that I had not had a fever in over twenty years and I can no longer say that. But it does paint a picture of how sick I was. In the past, regardless of how sick I got, I had never gotten a fever. I would get close, but no fever. That is when I started worrying. That night was the toughest one but once the fever broke, the worst was over. I still took Thursday off to fully rest and allow the meds to get me back to feeling better and take away all the pains and aches. The headache was the last to leave on Thursday night.

I don't want to say I have become paranoid, especially since I have been one to always check my urine to make sure I am drinking enough water, but let's just say I pay extra attention now. Unfortunately, I scared the hell out of myself Friday at work when I went to pee and realized my urine was a bright red. I almost had a mini-panic attack, which is not good when you are using a urinal and you have to keep aiming, until I realized that I was still taking the freaking Azo and just had not had enough water because I had been busy at work. That is one of the most relieving realizations I have had while relieving myself.

So that is my week in a nut shell. Why then is my post called "I am a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad friend?" Give me a minute. I am getting to it. I just don't know the meaning of the word "brevity." Anyway, when I posted on my facebook that I wasn't feeling well, I was flooded with people asking if they could do anything for me or bring me some soup. I even had someone offer something that made me blush. Well, it didn't make me blush so much as it made me wonder what the hell he was thinking. But I digress. My best friend checked up on me daily and kept asking if I needed anything and could not be any sweeter. She kept saying that if it weren't for my parents she would come see me and see what I needed. I called her today after work to let her know I was all better and I find out that she has strep throat. I had nothing to say other than, "well, call me when you get better." See how horrible that is? But I could not bring myself to offer anything. I mean, I am still on antibiotics and I am pretty sure my immune system is still down and I already spent a whole week sick. I can't risk getting strep. Yes, I am selfish. One thing I can guarantee though, I will not tell her to go running so that she will feel better. Hey, I guess I am not that bad after all, right?

No More Mr. Nice Guy

So this is my first attempt at writing a blog that will be posted later. At this precise moment it is 5:28 pm on Saturday, May 01, 2010. I am in Euless helping my best friend move. Unfortunately, since she is just now moving, she does not have internet access. I bet it will be fun trying to copy and paste this onto Blogger since I have not as of yet figured out how to do that. I bet there is a simple way of doing it but I still haven’t found it yet. Give me time. Have some faith in me and I will figure it out. Also, if you have any hints and tips, they are more than welcome. It is not that I am the least computer literate man in the whole wide world but I have no idea how to write html. Still, if you are reading this right now, it means that I somehow managed to transcribe this post onto Blogger. Or, that after hours and hours of trying, I finally gave up and re-typed the whole thing. Luckily, I don’t expect this post to be as long as my last one so, even if I have to re-type it, it won’t be that much work. There is nothing wrong with work but I am lazy first and foremost and, though I know I have an obligation to you guys, I have been lazy for far longer than I have been a blogger, so my loyalty lies with laziness.

Anyway, I work at a front desk where I have my own sign-in sheet and everything. A sign-in sheet that requires its very own pen so that people can write their own names when coming into the office. Unfortunately, said pen is hard to keep at the desk. It often finds a way to disappear from the desk. I have lost so many pens that I have had to resort to getting nothing but cheap pens in an effort to dissuade people from taking them, but that approach has proved unsuccessful. People continue to take my pens regardless of how value-less they are. To make matters worse, I have seen people take the pens. Unfortunately, I am not assertive enough to stop the thieves in their tracks and reclaim the pens. Thus I quietly watch my pens as they depart never to be seen again.

Thursday, though, something changed.

About fifteen minutes before we closed, a lady walked into the building. She needed to fill out some paperwork. I handed her a clipboard and a pen so that she would be able to have a sit while I attended some other people that had walked in. A few minutes later, someone else walked in and, as I was helping this new person, the lady returned her paperwork to me and left. Once I closed the door after the last client, I returned to my desk to straighten everything out before I left. That’s when I noticed that the pen I had lent the lady was not there. Not only that but I was missing a clipboard. I would have been really upset, but it was time to go home and I try to leave work at work. I went home for the day and did not let it bother me.

Friday morning rolls around and when I get to my desk, I noticed the empty space where the clipboard usually sits. Since I was now on the clock, I resumed my indignation. I thought about it long and hard and decided to look up the form the lady turned in and see if there was a phone number. There was. After lengthy consideration, I called the number and left this really nice and polite message:

“Hi, my name is Carlos and I am calling from the [place where I work]. Sorry to bother you but I realized this morning that I don’t know where the clipboard you used yesterday is. If you can give me a call back and let me know if you remember where you left it, I would greatly appreciate it. I don’t see it anywhere and I don’t want to just leave it lying around anywhere. Our number is (###) ###-####. Thank you for your time.”

I realize the message is a bit petty. I was careful though not to sound rude or to accuse her of taking it, as I did not want to offend her… much. I was not gonna take it lying down anymore. I was going to try to get it back, or at least let them know it is not acceptable to take things just because. I have lost many pens, but a clipboard was taking it too far. Thirty minutes after I left the message I got a call from that lady. She said that she apologized, but that she had mistakenly taken the clipboard with her and had not realized it until she was half way home and, since she lived thirty minutes away and she knew we’d be closed, she did not turn back to return it. Still maintaining a sense of decorum I said that I had asked just because I wanted to make sure that I had not just misplaced the clipboard. She said that she would try to bring it back next time she came to town. I said that I would appreciate it greatly.

Needless to say, she learned not to mess with me. She also said that my message had made her laugh which might mean that she still did not take me seriously but I have become a force to be reckoned with. I will not let people walk all over me anymore. Granted, I still haven’t got my clipboard back and I am unsure of whether I will. But I stood up for myself. Later on Friday, I was actually bold enough to ask someone to give me my pen back when she was leaving. It’s a brand new me. Pretty much like the old me, but more assertive. I shall keep you posted on the clipboard situation, meaning whether or not I ever get it back.