New Year’s Eve

I abhor this day. Almost as much as Valentine’s Day. With the exception of while I was married, I’ve spent only one New Year’s Eve that I can remember with someone special. That was two years ago. Oddly, it was with someone who broke up with her boyfriend the following day and I became the boyfriend of someone else a week later. That was probably one of, if not the, best New Year’s of my life.

Other than that exception, I hate New Year’s Eve. I know it should be about celebrating the new year with friends and even family. But for me it’s a reminder I’m starting a new year alone again. Almost always has been. Being single and wasting my love on someone who’s unavailable, is exacerbating my bitterness today.

If ever I could be drugged enough to maintain an escape from reality for more than 24 hours, today’s that day.

I’m not supposed to drink tonight. My weight loss challenge is only in a couple days and I need to be good for a decent progress check-in. However, I’m so irrationally angry, sad, hurt, bitter, rejected… A bottle of vodka might be my best companion tonight.

“One of Those Days” by Joshua Radin

"Wait right here,"
Is all she said to me
And so right here I stay

Time has reached our home
And I've been left alone
It's carried her away

And everyone keeps saying,
"Nothing helps but time"
Time is all I own

And time won't stop replaying
Over in my mind
I watch the hours slow down

So I crawl underneath my blanket
Where I can hide away, I know I can't take it
'Cause I see now, it's just one of those days

Now a year has passed
Alone I stay inside
And I await the rain

To wash away your face
So I don't have to hide
The sight of you is painful

So I crawl underneath my blanket
Where I can hide away, I know I can't take it anymore
'Cause I see now, it's just one of those days

And I can't stop seeing your face
I can't stop seeing your face every place

So I crawl underneath my blanket
Where I can hide away, I know I can't take it anymore
'Cause I see now, it's just one of those days

Irrelevant substitute

Along the lines of Subway's lame "6 grams of fat" sandwiches vs. McDonald's Big Mac burgers, why do people try to substitute something for another that is not like it?

I hardly drink it now, but I used to drink Dr. Pepper a lot.  When I'd order it at a restaurant that didn't serve it, 99% of the time the server would say "We don't have Dr. Pepper. But we have root beer."  Why would you offer me root beer?  Why not just offer me a regular cola?  Why is root beer almost always offered as a substitute for Dr. Pepper?  It's no more similar to it than regular cola.

If I wanted root beer, I'd order it.  Just about every restaurant has root beer. That's common sense.  So why not just simply say, "I'm sorry. We don't have Dr. Pepper" and let me decide what I'll replace it with?

Twilight “saga”

Ugh. ‘Nuff said.

Inconsiderate, lazy tenants

Yesterday and today I've already seen a few Christmas trees left near the trash chutes (on the third floor) at my apartment complex. How hard is it to take your tree down to the first floor and drop it off near the dumpster inside the parking structure?!  It's bad enough that the employees of the apartment complex break down boxes nearly every day because people are so lazy to do it themselves and therefore just drop boxes next to the recycle chute. 

It's ridiculous! Have some consideration and cart the tree down the stairs or even the elevator.  It's not really an extra step for the cleaning crew to sweep up the pine needles you'll inevitably leave behind. They have to clean those corridors anyway. But for them to go out of their way to haul someone else's Christmas tree is unnecessary. It's like I'm living either in a dorm where all the college kids don't give a crap about anything and haven't learned to wipe their own asses, or I'm living in a pseudo upper-class high-rise where the tenants think they only have to put forth minimal effort for menial tasks. "Jeeves! I don't want to touch the tree; I only wanted to look at it. I'm finished now. Dispose of this tree for me."

Notivation

I think I’m having my midlife crisis. I’m starting to fully realize I’ve failed at my potential for doing great and/or fulfilling things with my life. I’ve never been motivated to go beyond my comfort zone and pursue a passion. (See my last post for some examples.)

This morning, a random memory popped into my head. After I moved to California, a friend of mine I met in my freshman year of college at Western Washington University and I were chatting online. He said that we should both try to pursue jobs in radio together—that between the two of us someone had to be interested in or at least mildly entertained by our banter. (If only we knew about the future of podcasting!)  He eventually moved to Los Angeles, pursued acting for a bit and ended up doing improvisational comedy for quite a few years before he moved back to Seattle and settled down with a family.  I did… nothing really. I stayed comfortable. Worked regular jobs just to pay debt that I kept accruing.

Notivation. It’s my new word for no motivation. And I want to believe it’s a genetic defect with which I was born.

HATE SUNDAYS!

Have I mentioned I hate Sundays before? I still do. Not exactly for the same reasons as I’ve said before, although I still do waste most of my day doing nothing productive (and when I am productive, I get no sense of satisfaction from it any more). 

No, now it’s because I live alone and everyone I know seems to have a family or significant other they can spend their Sunday with.  And I don’t.  I’m OK with living alone, I’m just sick of being alone.

And I’m sick of being sick of being alone, if that makes any sense whatsoever.

Destination: Procrastination

For over a year, I've had an increasing desire to give a lot of things up.  Things.  Possessions. Stuff.  Clutter. Having things lying around disorganized around my place presents subconscious distractions. I feel unsettled when things aren't in order, like I have a list of things I still need to get done, an calmness to restore. But I haven't really done much about it.

When I watch movies, I get kind of choked up when the story has a character who gives all their free time and efforts into building up another person or saving their life.  It affects me for some reason.  I'd like to think there's still a lot of good in this world and that somehow I can be a part of it.  I've thought about volunteering at a food/homeless shelter, especially around the holidays.  But I haven't really done much about it.

I used to go to the bookstore and browse traveling books with a focus on making a difference in the world.  Books that outlined traveling around the globe for volunteering purposes.  I thought about starting a Smartypig goal for something like that.  But I haven't really done much about it.

I went to a community college a few years ago to inquire about a sign language translator certification course, even so far as to obtain my transcripts from previous colleges I attended. I've even gone to the LA Recording School to see how interesting it would be to work in audio engineering/production. I have the desire to go back to school. But I haven't really done much else about it.

I've bought a guitar twice in my life with the intention of learning how to play an instrument. I sold my first guitar and my second guitar is collecting dust in a storage closet. And I often think about buying a piano because I feel it'd be easier to start learning with that instead of a guitar. But I haven't really done much about it.

I complain so often about being single, wishing for someone to be with again, and have often thought about setting up an online dating profile at the very least just to meet new people and possibly gain friends. But I haven't really done much about it.

I love my gym

I've been telling people I really like my gym since the day I started there.  I don't get all cultist about it and try to get everyone I know to join my gym, but I do think it's an excellent place to get a solid workout.  Today it sunk in: I LOVE my gym.

There have been several reasons why I've liked it: challenging yet supportive trainers, friendly members who genuinely encourage me and care about my success, it's fun, and I'm getting results.

Today was a "friends for free" workout day, a day for members to bring friends and do a fun (but exhausting) workout together. A perfect opportunity for people to see what we do when we workout. Our gym offers free intro workouts for friends anyway, but this was a fun event where people could all participate together.  All of the trainers were there too. It involved teaming up groups of two doing a certain workout for best time.

I didn't bring a friend, but I was still lumped into the group because my trainer wanted me to get an extra workout today. I was partnered up with a guy whose girlfriend is a member, but couldn't participate due to a recent surgery on her collar bone. And this guy was much fitter than me.  The pressure was on to push through this workout!

Right off the bat, the guy outperformed me. Seemed like he was doing the entire workout alongside me without breaking a sweat. My chest was heaving for air and my legs felt as heavy as tree trunks. And other teams were doing better than us as well.

But here's why I love my gym: I could hear every single trainer cheering me with encouragement. "Keep moving," "Great job, Darrin," "You've got this, push through it!" "This is too easy for you!" It felt like every trainer's focus was on me during the workout.  I know that's not the case; of course the trainers are motivating everyone involved. But I felt like I was important. I heard other members cheering me on too that weren't participating in the workout. 

The amount of support people give at my gym is amazing. Even when I feel like I haven't done well, I continue to receive encouragement and reinforcement of my overall improvement. It makes me feel on top of the world when I break personal records. I feel worth something and I’m getting stronger. That's why I love my gym.

Friends at work

Not having friends at work is wearing me down. There aren’t very many people with whom I’d enjoy spending lunch. The ones I would enjoy having lunch with, they have very hectic schedules and not much time to eat as it is.

Having a group of friends that work at another company together and seem to neglect inviting me out to lunch any more is also wearing me down.  Especially after I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion that I miss the lunches we used to have together.  I’d like to think that it’s not on purpose, but knowing that my friends have gone out to lunch with another mutual friend that doesn’t work with them makes me feel hurt when I’m not invited as well. I think I’ve become oversensitive to it because of the fact I spend my days in an office that is a shell of what it used to be and that I don’t get to see my friends at work like they do.  In fact, they get to see the same friends after work. But all of this is another rant.

Where I work used to be fun. There used to be over 40 people in my department alone and we were all friends. Almost all of us had been to a happy hour together a time or two and most of us even more so. And it wasn’t just people in my department we were friends with.  Every department had its people with whom we’d all hang out (and some of us do more than just hang out). We formed flag football tournaments. We’d have house parties. We’d go clubbing on Thursdays, stay after-hours, sleep in our cars in the office parking lot, and go back to work at 7am wearing the same clothes we had on the night before (at least until we realized it was going to happen frequently and left spare clothes in our cars). It was fun to go into work.

Unfortunately, after a company spin-off and major layoffs, that changed the dynamic of a lot of things.  People move on and grow apart when they’re no longer working together and have other things entering their lives (like marriage, children, moving out of state, etc.).

I know it’s called “work” for a reason, but I miss when my office place was fun. I long for a workplace like that again. If not for the extreme flexibility I have where I’m at now and the pay I get, I think I’d be hard pressed to look for another job. Perhaps I should anyway and deal with the pay cut. At least maybe I’d make some new friends—ones that want to go to lunch with me; ones with whom I’d enjoy having lunch. I need social interaction!

Silly traditions

When I’ve visited my parents for the holidays over the past 7 or 8 years, we’ve always gone to Red Lobster for dinner one of the days I’m there.  Somehow, it became a tradition. Plus, those cheese biscuits are irresistible!

This year, now that I have my own place, my parents are coming down to visit me for the holidays. I’m super excited for this since they haven’t been down to California for about 8 years. My mom loves palm trees. She’s going to be so happy being here. And it makes me really happy to see her happy.

I just got an email from my mom tonight that made me laugh. She asked if there is a Red Lobster down here. “Tradition,” she said. Fortunately, there are two Red Lobsters in Orange County. Now, I can’t wait to go. But with my weight-loss challenge, I’ll have to resist those cheese biscuits!

Challenge accepted.

I accepted my trainer's challenge: To lose 70 pounds within 7 months.  He sweetened the deal yesterday—more for pride than anything of substantial value to me—by adding that he'll do 5 burpees for every pound I go beyond 70 pounds.

It should be doable, even with the gain in muscle mass. No more beers though. That's rough for football season.  I'll have to limit my drinking to one night a week and only vodka/sodas. I'm also going to try to give up diet soda or at the very least severely restrict my intake of it and instead start looking into flavored, sparkling water. And definitely no more desserts, except maybe on Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

Oh crap, and no more Frappuccinos!  

What have I gotten myself into?!

Another fitness challenge

Yup. Another challenge. I'm a sucker for these things, even if I'm not optimistic about winning. This time, my gym's co-owner (who is also the trainer for my usual class) proposed a challenge to me. He asked me what my current weight was and I told him. He asked my goal weight, which I told him to be about 85 pounds lighter.  Then he proposed the challenge:  "If you lose 70 pounds in 7 months, I'll give you a free year membership. That's just 10 pounds a month which is do-able."

At first, I was excited at the thought. 10 lbs. a month? Yeah, I should be able to do that if I focus.  Of course, since he was putting something on the line, he expects me to do the same if I don't pass the challenge.  He gave me a few suggestions, one of them paying for a year's worth of membership in a lump cash sum at the end of the challenge. Hmm. It would be a pain in my wallet, but it's money I'd be paying anyway over the course of a year. I think I could do that. It's probably going to be the easiest option if I'm to put anything on the line. I could save up for the amount I'll have to pay and if I win, that's a nice chunk of bonus money for me as a reward. 

However, I started thinking more about it. My original goal was to lose 85 lbs. I only have to lose 70 lbs. But that would be without gaining any muscle mass. If I'm exercising 3 to 4 times a week and eating right, I'll be gaining lean body weight.  How much muscle would I gain? Is it possible I'd gain enough in muscle mass that I wouldn't lose enough weight in shedding fat to break the 70-pound goal?  As it is, I've been wavering around the same weight for a few weeks now while my belt gets tighter and tighter. I can't imagine I'm gaining enough muscle to compensate for a lack of decrease in weight on the scale, but I can't argue with the evidence. Another thing to consider is the difficulty of staying on track with a diet of some sort, or at least healthy eating, while getting through the holiday season. It also means cutting out alcohol—at the very least, beer.

I'm pretty sure I'll accept the challenge.  The reward is worth it. It’s not really a loss if I lose the challenge the way my trainer suggested. But my mentality needs to be that I'll win. Focus!

Maybe a hiatus is in order

My blogs have become too personal in nature.  I wanted this to be mostly about my random rants that are more than the 140 characters that Twitter allows. And nothing that serious. It turned into a theater of my pessimistic nature welling back up and haunting me.

So I’m going to take a break.  If I have a silly rant, maybe I’ll post it.  But everything else needs to be vented elsewhere, to someone who can give me feedback, advice, and support as well as admonition and accountability.

Seeking help

I’ve been thinking in ways that are far too irrational. Almost everything is coming from emotion that completely lacks in confidence and optimism, and seems to get rooted further in distrust. It’s to the point where I could be damaging relationships around me and thinking in ways I haven’t thought in three years.

So I finally made the call to a counselor for help. I need someone to talk to who has at least some training and practical ways for me to handle my issues in a healthy way.

I’m a little scared.  I’m scared because it means dealing with truths I don’t want to face.  It means letting go of things or people I’m not ready to let go of yet.  On the other hand, it means being reminded that I’m worth something. It means being encouraged and given support to take action and not wait on anyone else.

It means something has to change.

“You’re such a good guy…”

I hate when people tell me "Don't worry, you'll find the right girl."  I know the intention is good and yes it's nice to hear, but it's just bullshit.  No one can ever tell me what my future has in store for me and saying that doesn't make me feel any better about it.

One of my close friends that was in town this week told me I'm the "best catch in the world," that I'm the "greatest guy a girl could want." She said this in front of her boyfriend who had to jokingly interject with, "You mean second best, right?" And as good as it felt to hear my friend tell me how important I am and as heartfelt as she meant it, it's harder and harder for me to believe such a thing.  

It seems I'm usually clicking with women who are already in relationships.  I've even been accused of making that my modus operandi though I disagree (and can prove it!)  My friends and family know I want someone in my life, to be my support system and for me to give my everything to.  I understand they want me to be happy and so they'll encourage me by saying I'll find that special woman someday; that I shouldn't waste time on the ones that are in relationships no matter how well I click with them.  Maybe I've become too picky. Maybe I'm too difficult to be accepted. But when someone fits the mold pretty damn close, I consider that perfect and it's hard to let that go.

I'm not even sure the point of this rant.  But I was watching an episode of Glee (yeah, so what?!), and there's a scene between the characters Emma and Will Scheuster. Will's apologizing for the Britney number he did to impress Emma to prove he wasn't so uptight.  Emma responds that he just needed to relax and that he's the best teacher in the school, so "why would you want to be someone else, when the someone that you already are is so amazing?"  I think it's Will's response that summarizes how I've felt when I've shared my feelings with a woman to whom I’m attracted but doesn't feel the same about me.  "Because the boring someone I already am wasn't good enough for you."

That's how I feel I guess. I know I have faults. I know those faults are why I overreact in some situations. But I also know I'd be a good boyfriend. I could be a great boyfriend. I wasn't the best husband, but I was a good one. And I would be a better one now.  There was a lot I learned.  I'm still learning now. But I want to better myself with someone now, not because of someone.  Maybe I know that when I meet the right woman, all the time I'll have been waiting will be worth it.  That's quite romantic in thought. But the question is, how much longer do I have to wait? And the pathetic answer I seem to be coming up with lately is, however long it takes until I create an online dating profile. :(

I’m far too emotional

I’m turning into a fucking drama queen. My tweets are solid proof of that.

It’s no secret I’m crazy about a girl who, for now at least, can only be my friend though it’s very hard to let go of the feelings I have for her. Last night I was able to spend some quiet, alone time with her. For that bit of time, I felt peaceful. It’s also times like those that make it incredibly hard to feel happy the next day, when it feels like there’s a void in my life, when my mind can’t do anything but remember how alive I felt the night before and how empty it feels when I wake up alone.

I was randomly watching TV this morning and ended up on CMT, watching the Top 20 Countdown. Country music can keep me in a good mood when I’m already feeling good. But if I’m in any emotional state of mind (does that even make sense?) it’s the worst thing for me to listen to. It instantly becomes cliché. I watched a video from Lady Antebellum called “Just a Kiss.” I rewound(?) it on my DVR and watched the video 3 times again while looking up the lyrics. The very first verse couldn’t have been more spot on to describe the time with my friend last night. So? I cried. Because I’m getting too emotional over her. It’s a sinking feeling when I can’t do anything about the one I want so terribly to spend all my waking hours with. Today’s going to be a hard day despite pretending to be happy around friends this afternoon.

Lady Antebellum – “Just A Kiss”
(copied from azlyrics.com)

Lyin' here with you so close to me
It's hard to fight these feelings when it feels so hard to breathe
Caught up in this moment
Caught up in your smile

I've never opened up to anyone
So hard to hold back when I'm holding you in my arms
We don't need to rush this
Let's just take it slow

Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight
Just a touch of the fire burning so bright
No I don't want to mess this thing up
I don't want to push too far
Just a shot in the dark that you just might
Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life
So baby I'm alright, with just a kiss goodnight

I know that if we give this a little time
It'll only bring us closer to the love we wanna find
It's never felt so real, no it's never felt so right

Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight
Just a touch of the fire burning so bright
And I don't want to mess this thing up
I don't want to push too far
Just a shot in the dark that you just might
Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life
So baby I'm alright, with just a kiss goodnight

No I don't want to say goodnight
I know it's time to leave, but you'll be in my dreams
Tonight
Tonight
Tonight

Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight
Just a touch of the fire burning so bright
No I don't want to mess this thing up
I don't want to push too far
Just a shot in the dark that you just might
Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life
So baby I'm alright, oh, let's do this right, with just a kiss goodnight
With a kiss goodnight
Kiss goodnight

Packing for sweat

I’m about to go out of town to Laughlin, NV for their River “Regatta” (it’s a river rafting run). It’s hot in Laughlin in August. I sweat when it’s hot.  I’ll only be in Laughlin for the weekend, but I’m packing enough shirts as if I’ll be there for over a week because I’ll most likely be changing shirts at least twice each day.

I hate sweating. I really, really do. I sweat all the time, doing even the lightest of physical activity or in any temperature higher than 73 degrees.  I’m usually sweating by the time I get out of the shower, probably from just scrubbing my fat ass. I sweat when I stress out, I sweat when I’m around pretty women, I sweat in any type of competitive game, even video games and billiards. Sadly, I’m not exaggerating the least bit.

The only time I’m okay with sweat is during exercise.  And sex, especially if the woman is sweaty.  It means she’s putting some effort into the fun too. Except my contribution of sweat is probably a bit more profuse. Anyway, all the other times? Not cool. I don’t like my pits showing sweat. I don’t like when I can feel sweat drip under my shirt and soaks through my shirt in spots. I don’t like it soaking the collar around my neck. It’s embarrassing. I hate it.

On one hand, I know I’m going to have fun this weekend, even though it’ll be hawt as heyull outside while I’m floating on that river.  But it’s also going to suck as I’m sweating my balls off. They’re going to dehydrate into little raisins. I’m going to sweat a river of my own out there.

Gimme some of that old-timey music

I miss going on retreats. I recently came back from a houseboat trip in which we were in a cove completely secluded from the rest of the lake. And yet I'm already looking forward to getting away again.

I want a cabin where I can get away.  I want the cabin to have a large porch, with either a rocking chair or swinging bench on it, and I want to be able to listen to some music that I like to call old-timey backwoods music.  It's got that jangling rhythm—a bit of country, a bit of blues, a bit of rockabilly.  A little upbeat but also slow as a lullaby. Maybe drink some coffee in the morning or some sweet tea in the afternoon while swinging on that bench, with the front door open and the screen door closed, listening to music from the speakers inside the cabin filling the air around my porch.  Or maybe I'd be on a back patio playing a one-on-one board game with a friend, where conversation and music can both be enjoyed simultaneously.

I guess what I'm after is a quaint coffee-shop atmosphere, but set in the woods with friends and chill music. And less Jack Johnson.  I'll save his music for the beach house.

Here's an example playlist:

Marc Broussard	"Home"
The Civil Wars	"Barton Hollow"
Johnny Cash	"God's Gonna Cut You Down"
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club	"Shuffle Your Feet"
Pawnshop Kings	"Make Me Whole"
Richie Havens	"Tombstone Blues"
Dierks Bentley	"Rovin' Gambler"
The Soggy Bottom Boys	"I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow"
Sara Watkins	"Long Hot Summer Days"
Nickel Creek	"When In Rome"
The Ranch	"Homespun Love"
Mark Lanegan	"Little Sadie"
Samuel L. Jackson	"Just Like A Bird Without A Feather"
Old Crow Medicine Show	"Down Home Girl"
Fistful Of Mercy	"Father's Son"
Led Zeppelin	"Bron-Y-Aur Stomp"

Back in 15 minutes

Where I work, there was a message posted on the intranet (from June 22nd) that said a certain process would not be working for the next five minutes.  It reminded me of the signs at some stores where they post "Be back in 15 minutes" in the windor or on the door.

If you don't mention what time you posted that sign or your intended audience isn't present to see the sign posted, your time frame is bullshit.  You could've posted that sign at 9:00 am to indicate you'd be back at 9:15.  But if I walk up to the sign at 9:13 am and see that sign, I've been misled.  You'll really be back in only two minutes.

I don't understand what's so difficult to identify concrete times. Is there some higher level of accountability implied if set times are defined?

Leisurely drivers

I'll be the first to admit, I'm not the world's safest driver.  I sometimes drive a bit too aggressively. But there's no need to drive 15mph under the speed limit without any good reason (such as construction, a sorority group of bicyclers, etc.).

Usually when I go to work in the morning, I take a main road with two lanes of traffic going each way where most of that stretch has a 50mph speed limit. It seems as if almost every day, I encounter drivers who apparently think the speed limit is between 35-40mph.  It's not a particularly winding road. Most of that route is straight. The speed limit signs are clearly posted. I don't know why drivers feel the need to drive that much under the speed limit, but irritates the dookie outta me.

Shared office bathroom etiquette

Haven’t had a real rant in a while, so back to the purpose of this blog! RANTS!

A law office is now occupying the space in the building next to the office where I work.  The bathrooms are shared between our office, their office and a weekly publication office.  Things seemed fine in the bathroom until the law office associates came around.

The bathroom counters are now dirty with shaved stubble, paper towels are strewn across the floor, and for some reason, they like to leave the door to the entrance propped open.  I've heard from others that several of those law associates use it as a dressing room as well, not behind closed stalls either.

I don't care if they want to use the bathroom to change or whatever, but use the handicap stall that's big enough for a dance floor and clean up after yourselves d-bags! At least wipe the stubble off the counter and at the very least rinse it down the sink. Just because there's a cleaning lady on site doesn't mean you can treat the bathroom with such disregard that you leave a mess all over the sink.  It's so disrespectful! 

And why would you move a trash can from the corner of the bathroom right into the middle of the bathroom, practically blocking one of the urinals?  Oh! And why would you throw paper towels in the urinals as well?!  That doesn't make any sense and even more disgusting and disrespectful to the cleaning lady.

It's like sharing a bathroom with frat boys, but they don't even bring in any hot chicks.

What the?

It’s amazing how a song can evoke (or is it provoke?) emotions. I’m a very emotional guy. Probably comes from being a momma’s boy. It takes a conscious effort to keep my emotions in check and sometimes I lose control. But I hardly cry a real cry. I’ve only cried once since even before my divorce because I seriously wanted to die.

“A Little Bit Stronger” by Sara Evans came up on my iTunes. I decided to look up the lyrics and even tried singing along, but midway through I broke down and cried. What the fuck? I know what emotions I’ve been going through lately, but damn.

I hate when circumstances are out of my control and I know I’m helpless. SO, today I started controlling what I can. I started a diet today, have a plan to workout at least 3 times a week and curb my alcohol consumption. I should have done this six months ago when I set my New Year resolutions, but my focus was laser focused on someone else and I lost touch with working on me. I’m trying to convince myself that this time all of this is for my own health, and I know I will feel that way when I see results. But right now, it’s really just to get the focus away from everything and back to my own well-being, especially mentally and emotionally. Fake it ‘til I make it, right?

I miss…

I don't necessarily miss being married much any more. But I do miss the companionship of someone I care about living with me. Even though it got to a point where I felt like we were roommates more than spouses, at least there were things we still did together and I enjoyed.  It's probably due to the fact that I'm living alone now and know there won't be someone else coming home at some point in the day/night that I can hang out with. And since then, I've only had one "steady" relationship since being divorced, two occasionally intimate friendships, and one heartbreakingly complicated friendship with yet another.  But the moments I've spent with any of them, not just my ex-wife, when it was just me and the other and no one else was around (or at least felt like no one else was), those are the moments I miss so much lately.

I miss cooking dinner for myself and someone else.
I miss being surprised with dinner if I got home from work after she did.
I miss spending time together watching a show I would never watch on my own.
I miss spending time together watching a show we both love to watch.
I miss driving to random places for no reason whatsoever other than to just spend time together driving around.
I miss driving aimlessly for over an hour, even though she fell asleep.
I miss waiting until everyone else left a get-together so we'd be the only ones left, and I could take her home because it meant she was mine for at least a little while.
I miss reading together in bed.
I miss trying new restaurants together, even if the restaurant was part of a gas station and we had to wait so long we went over our hour lunch break.
I miss talking cutesy to each other.
I miss sleeping in the same bed.
I miss cuddling on the couch, in the bed and once in a while, even in the car.
I miss when she straddled me in the car.
I miss make-up sex.
I miss random occurrences of cleaning every nook and cranny of our place at 4 am in the morning like we were a couple of crackheads, but laughing at ourselves because we knew how ridiculous it was.
I miss laughing so hard and loud in a restaurant that other patrons are asking what our discussion is about.
I miss random trips to the beach after work in the middle of the week.
I miss random trips to the beach at night just we could smoke cigarettes and get coffee and donuts.
I miss random walks to concerts in the park.
I miss not having any plans on a Saturday morning, within minutes turning into a random trip up to Lake Arrowhead for the day.
I miss stargazing together.
I miss putting thought into birthday presents for someone I care about.
I miss going to the "OC Marketplace" (aka swap meet) and neither one of us having interest in what the other wanted to look at, but we'd always agree on what produce we'd buy there.
I miss moving her stuff from one apartment to another.
I miss driving 20 minutes or more together just to get pizza.
I miss driving 20 minutes away just so we could sit at a Starbucks that stayed open past 10pm.
I miss showering together.
I miss giving massages.
I miss making playlists for her.
I miss seeing her try on outfits in a boutique.
I miss seeing her naked.
I miss stealing kisses when no one else was looking.
I miss drawing a bubble bath for her and setting candles all around the tub.
I miss spending an entire day at a restaurant from just after opening until closing because the conversation never stopped.
I miss staring at each other in silence, with only an occasional giggle.
I miss feeling loved.

“Excited”

I wrote this poem this morning. I rarely feel like anything I write is complete and this is no exception, but I wanted to get this posted so I wouldn’t lose the momentum.

“Excited”

I get excited when my phone chirps because it might be her.
Maybe an email, a text or a tweet from Twitter.
I get excited when I see her because I know I'll be hypnotized.
There's nothing else I want to think about when I look into her eyes.
I get excited when she's near, even more so at the slightest touch.
I love to make her swoon. It's a constant goal to make her blush.
I get excited when we're together, the moments that seem to linger.
It's adorable when she giggles, when she nervously bites her finger.
I get excited when she changes her hair. I look forward to every style.
I like driving her around in my car, always hoping for another mile.
I get excited for her comebacks and her innuendos, her hilarious and clever wit.
My eyes water and my gut hurts something fierce when she puts me in a laughing fit.
I get excited when she tolerates my dumb jokes, I love hearing her laughter.
When we part ways, I can't resist to text or email her that I miss her after.
I get excited when we're out to eat and she's bold to try something new.
It's cute when she feeds me a bite, and generous when she feeds me a few.
I get excited when I discover we have so much in common with each other.
All kinds of music, books, movies, bacon and even peanut butter.

I get excited, full of butterflies, but then tears begin to swell.
She's not mine to have. If she ever could be, I cannot tell.
I get excited and flush with tingles, but then it's difficult for my throat to swallow.
My mind knows I should move in a new direction, but my heart refuses to follow.
I get excited, but the notions are bittersweet and full of longing sighs.
I can't stop the rush of emotions, no matter how hard I try.
I get excited because I'm a fool for wanting the romance.
I hold my breath and I hold hope for some miraculous chance.
I get excited. The future's unwritten. The excitement may not survive.
But for now I'll keep her twitterpated, because it makes me feel alive.

Amazon.com reviewers

I shop through Amazon.com a lot.  I love that site.  And I often use the reviews of people on that site to determine what model of a particular product I'll choose when researching an item.

But some Amazon shoppers apparently don't understand the purpose of a review.  

"This product didn't work for me." That's not a review. It's just a statement. There's nothing specific about the experience whatsoever.  What didn't work? Did it not meet expectations?

That's another kind of review.  "This product did not fit in my cabinet space, blah, blah."  And yet, I could find exactly where the dimensions are detailed on the product page.  That's the reviewer's error in shopping, not a review.

"My product came in a box smashed by UPS and I can't send it back to Amazon."  What does that have to do with the product at all?  That's not a review.

There's also the review that doesn't even pertain the exact model they're reviewing.  For example, I was researching slow cookers and saw a review from someone who had used a particular brand of slow cookers for 30 years.  She went on detail the previous sizes of the slow cookers she had.  This one being "reviewed" was a 5qt slow cooker.  Her final line of the review was that they no longer come in six quart model like the one she currently has; the next best thing would be to get that 5qt. model.  Uhhh, so you don't actually have this particular model?  That's not a review!  That's a recommendation based on brand loyalty.  That doesn't mean the 5qt. model operates in the same way, or that some manufacturing change may have improved or reduced its usefulness.  Manufacturing changes all the time even on the simplest of products.  A review shouldn't be based on assumption, but what the shopper has actually experienced with the product.

Finally, I saw one today for a free Android app.  The app was basically a way to link a Starbucks "rewards" card, refill the dollar amount of the card and keep track of points, etc. so a person wouldn't have to carry the actual card in their wallet.  This one particular reviewer gave the app one star, the lowest rating. In the review they chastised Starbucks's business practices and encouraged everyone to buy their coffee from local coffee shops.  That was it.  It had nothing to do with the app whatsoever.  It was just a soapbox statement against Starbucks.  It wasn't even a Starbucks sponsored app! It was a third party app from an independent developer.

If you write a review of a product, try to include a critique of the actual product in the review.

Every woman lies.

I am NO expert when it comes to women. But I've been friends with enough of them to come to this conclusion about almost every single woman in a relationship: Most women will cheat. Every woman will lie. (White lies are still lies.) But what's considered cheating? What's cheating for some, may be only flirting for others. Is groping cheating? Is kissing cheating? Does oral sex count? Where is the line drawn? It's subjective, so I can't say every woman cheats.  

But every woman lies.

What makes me think that? Because I've been told secrets by nearly every female friend I've had since I was 16.  At some point, a woman will hang out with a guy "friend" in a very date-like fashion and not tell her boyfriend about it. At some point, a woman will kiss a guy and not tell her boyfriend about it.  At some point, a girl will be drunk and allow or even encourage guys to fondle her breasts and not tell her boyfriend about it.  I've known one girl who was still getting over her ex-boyfriend, while having occasional sex with his friend (whom she rarely kissed), while also developing a new relationship with a guy online. I've known one girl who dated a guy while she also had a friend with benefits and only stopped the side man when she felt the main relationship became exclusive and she was invested into it enough. I've witnessed it over and over again.

Yes, it could be argued that withholding a truth is not the same as a lie, but if a woman can share this secret with me, why can't she be just as truthful to her boyfriend? (Never mind that on more than one occasion, I'm the one she's crossing the line with.) Is it because her boyfriend might get upset? Will it hurt him? Yes, possibly? Well, then that's why it's a lie. The honesty in the relationship has been eroded and along with it, the trust.  Cheating or not, it's a manipulation of the relationship.

Why am I ranting about this? Because it's the kind of shit that racks my brain when I start to have feelings for a woman, and sometimes even after I've lost those feelings for a woman. At what point will I be lied to by the woman I have feelings for, or at what point will I find out about the truths a past flame has withheld?  It's a damn-near fact I will be lied to, whether white lie or big lie.  But truths have a way of surfacing.  When they do, which ones will I let affect me and which ones will I be able to accept without an evidence of hurt? Which ones should I convince myself are no big deal and which ones should I allow to break my trust?  I suppose that's the root of this issue. I distrust nearly all women to some degree right from the start.  It's an area in which I need incredible self-improvement. 

There's so much more I could ramble on about this, but it's late and I'm not going to air dirty laundry.

E-books

Why are eBooks nearly just as expensive as their paper counterparts?

There's no continued printing cost, not really any reprinted editions, no shipping cost.  It's just the cost of developing an electronic format of the book, right?  This process is probably pretty digitized as it is, so I can't imagine the continued cost of creating eBooks being all that costly.

I suppose there's no reason to drop the price of eBooks as it seems there's a big market push for e-readers and such.  I also suppose it's because I don't read that much that I don't care about the portability of a book.  I usually read only at home, so it's fine to hold a book.  I prefer to hold a book.  I like the feel of it.  I like displaying it on my bookshelf when I'm done reading it (or displaying it on my bookshelf before I read it, as there are many, many more unread books on my bookshelf than read ones).

Or maybe I just don't like seeing what is clearly a gross markup in price to maximize profit.  In any case, with apps for smart phones costing only a few dollars, I don't see why something that is only words on an electronic screen should cost much more than that.

One. Single. Year.

One is singular.  So why do some parents say "one years old" when referring to their baby's first year of life? 

If I have had an iPod for 365 days, I don't say I've had it for one years.  Just one year. It's a year old.  Same goes for babies when they're that age.  They're one year old.  When they've lived through two years, you can then say two years old when describing a baby's age.

Electric bill

Since I've moved into my apartment, I've used the air conditioning excessively, absolutely more than necessary.  I like it cold, but I haven't needed it to be cold.  And despite the cool weather we've had in general over the past month, I've still been running the air conditioner very cold, often forgetting to raise the temperature or turn it off when I leave the apartment. (I know, bad environmentalist!)  In the very small recess of my mind that discerns reason from instant and selfish gratification, I was a bit worried about what my first electric bill might look like.

I received it Friday.

$50.  Fifty dollars.  That's probably less than the one-fourth portion of the electric bill I paid during any summer month at the house I used to live in and was miserable most of my time spent at home due to the cool air dissipating too quickly in the heat.  I'm living in total comfort now and paying the same amount.  I. Am. Happy.

Happy to live where I'm in more control of my living environment.

A selection from my melancholy playlist

I have a melancholy playlist in iTunes.  It's for when I feel mopey.  When I feel quiet.  Calm.  Pitiful.  Depressed.  It's for when I feel melancholy (obviously).  I probably listen to a few songs off from that playlist every week.  They're not all slow or depressing songs.  Some are just a little on the mellow side.

A few years ago, before music seemed to only be contained in playlists, iPods, and Pandora--no longer shared in a tangible "mixtape" fashion--a friend of mine used to appreciate the mix CDs I created.  I would usually mix in clips from movies or odd interludes. I put a lot of effort into many of the mixes, the order of the songs, the introduction and usually the closing.  There was a flow, or at the very least a reason a song would be in its place (and probably not obvious to anyone except myself).

My friend posted quite a few months ago that she missed the mixes I used to make.  I knew that she had shared the same melancholy disposition I have had and still do from time to time, so I knew she'd appreciate a mix CD of this nature.  Although I still haven't sent her the CD, I culled a selection of songs from my Melancholy Mix to put the first of what I'm sure will be more than one Melancholy Mix I'll send her eventually.

The XX - "Intro"
Stars - "Your Ex-Lover Is Dead"
Great Northern - "Driveway"
Maurissa Tancharoen & Jed Whedon - "Remains"
Regina Spektor - "Hero"
Joshua Radin - "One Of Those Days"
Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova - "Falling Slowly"
Pink Floyd - "Wish You Were Here"
Pearl Jam - "Nothingman"
Jimmy Eat World - "Gotta Be Somebody's Blues"
John Mayer - "Slow Dancing In A Burning Room"
Imogen Heap - "Hide And Seek"
U2 - "Love Is Blindness"
Band Of Horses - "The Funeral"
Jeff Buckley - "Hallelujah"

The following are songs that will most likely go on the next CD whenever I get around to making it.

Joshua Radin - "When You Find Me" (feat. Maria Taylor)
Jon Foreman - "The Cure For Pain"
The Smiths - "Asleep"
K's Choice - "Not An Addict"
Gus - "Don't Fear The Reaper"
Caedmon's Call - "Center Aisle"
Alice in Chains - "Don't Follow"
Nine Inch Nails - "Hurt"

I hate my body.

My cousin's wedding is coming up in two weeks.  I'm fairly certain I have some big boy dress clothes somewhere in my closet.  I'm also fairly certain I'm a bigger boy now than I was when those clothes fit me.

I need to shop for new clothes for this wedding and it's part of the reason I hate weddings.  Not only do I get to witness yet another couple happily marrying, reminding me that my marriage failed and I haven't had a relationship that lasted more than a few months since then, but it's also a reminder that I have a belly that sticks out over my belt line when I tuck my shirt in.

You'd think this would be some kind of motivation for me to lose weight.  You'd think that.  But I've been this way for nearly all my life.  I've only been "trim" for a few months in 2003 when I was on the Atkins diet after 9 months and lost over 60 lbs.  I'm addicted to food.  All kinds. And I'm lazy.  It's a bad combination and it's unattractive.

Dwelling on certain failures

My friend is having a birthday get-together tomorrow.  We're going to downtown Fullerton to have dinner and drinks with some of his friends, most of whom I know and are good acquaintances of mine at the very least. 

Well, my friend sent me a text today asking if it would be ok to invite my ex-girlfriend to the get-together since he and she are still friends. (In fact, he had a crush on her before she and I dated and even after we broke up.)  Also, the ex-girlfriend is one of the best friends of the bartender with whom I made the Crossfit bet.  Since the bartender and her boyfriend are going, my friend thought it would be good to invite my ex-girlfriend as well.

Anyway, I told him it's fine.  But really it's only fine because who am I to decide who he gets to invite to his birthday party?  I'm not looking forward to seeing her at all.  Not because of any discord I have with her or anything of that nature, but because I now find myself comparing my progress of the past year to hers.  We broke up just about a year ago. I haven't seen her recently, but I know through my friend that she's lost a lot of weight. The last time my friend and I had spoken about her months ago, she had lost over 40 lbs.  I gained 20 over the last year.  She also has a boyfriend who is apparently some kind of model.  I don't look like a model; I never will.  I haven't dated anyone over the past year. I don't even have any nice new clothes.  I'll be wearing the same lame style of clothing that she's seen me in many times before.

I know it's silly and I shouldn't even care, but despite the progress I've made in the past year with work and getting my own apartment, it does make me think that my physical appearance, well-being and how attractive I feel is still no better than a year ago.

A review of the Top 10 Reasons I was Going to Love My Apartment

I've lived in my apartment for three weeks now.  There are definitely things I needed to get used to—noisy neighbors, noisy shopping center across the street, worried about being too noisy for those below me—but I'm already feeling at home.

I wrote Top Ten Reasons I Will Love my Apartment before I moved in.  Let's see if those reasons have stood legit:

TEN
I won't be completely embarrassed or held back from inviting a girl to my place, rather than to my room.

Hmm. Haven't really done this yet, but my apartment is still a little scattered.  I wasn't really able to unpack much the first week because I had plans to go out every night that week.  Now's it's just a matter of organizing the mess I have left.  I’m also in no hurry to do this. I just like that I could if the opportunity ever arose.

NINE
I can lounge in my underwear. I suppose I could've done that before, but that would've made my housemates very uncomfortable.

Check.  Well sort of.  It's not loungin' but I have no problem walking to the kitchen in my underwear to get a glass of water.  And I sleep naked in bed much more often than I used to.  Sorry for the gross visual, but it's true.

EIGHT
It'll be my TV in the living room with my recorded shows. And I'll get to watch them on a couch instead of from a bed.

Check.  In fact, I've probably done a little too much TV watching since I've moved in.  I'm even discovering new shows, as if I should make time to watch them.  Last Friday was the first night since I've moved in that I started reading my book again.

SEVEN
Since my TV will be in a living room and not a bedroom, I'll have room for Rock Band! (And a Kinect if the games get a whole lot better).

Haven't done this yet, but it'll happen soon enough.  I hooked up the Xbox last week, but I still have to hook up the surround sound speakers to the TV. It's time to test the loudness threshold my neighbors will have.

SIX
I'll have a 24 hour fitness center to work on my cardio. It's midnight and I feel like getting some stress out of my system by walking? No problem. Mosey on down to the fitness center feeling safe and secure during my walk.

I've only been down to the fitness center once since I've moved in, but it sure is nice.  The cardio equipment even syncs up with my heart rate monitor and can download progress to my iPod.  Pretty nifty!

FIVE
I can leave the door open when I shower so it won’t be hot and steamy in the bathroom to the point I'm sweating buckets by the time I'm done shaving.

I don't even have to do this.  It doesn't get that steamy in the bathroom since it's a fairly large bathroom. Plus, the bathroom exhaust fan does a good job of keeping the steam to a minimum. At worst, I can crank the air conditioning and stand right in front of a vent to cool down.

FOUR
No more stairs!!! Walking upstairs after a workout and, well, just in general pretty much sucks.

Check.  I love this.  My parking space is in the parking structure on the same floor as my apartment.  That means no climbing stairs with excruciating pain after a Crossfit workout.  It also means no bird crap on my car, no moving my car due to street sweepers and my car is constantly shaded.  Bonus!

THREE
My own kitchen! Gas stove! My own kitchenware! I can stock the pantry, freezer and fridge FULL of what I want. Costco, here I come again.

Check! You bet I went to Costco the first week after I moved in!  I've already cooked more meals since I've lived in this apartment in the past three weeks than I have in the past 6 months of living in the old house.  On the other hand, with no stairs to separate me from the fridge, it's a lot easier to raid the fridge when I'm bored.  Gotta be careful of over-snacking.  And I still don't have any real plates yet.

TWO
Air conditioning any time I want! As cold as I want!

Check.  It's polar icecap cold in my apartment, bitches. And it's perfect that my couch is positioned right where one of the vents blow the cool air.  HEAVEN!  But I'm a little worried what the amount of my first electric bill will be.

ONE
My parents will get to come visit me.  They haven't been down to California in about 7 years. I'll finally have a place where they can stay with no concern for sharing a bathroom or kitchen, or whether or not they'll be too loud for my roommates.

I've already proposed the idea to my parents and they're as excited about it as I am.  They'll probably come down for the holidays, which also means I can decorate for Christmas if I want.  Joy to the world and joy to my apartment, too!

I’d say I love my apartment so far.  I’m really happy that I’m living in a place of my own.  It still feels odd at times. And there have already been moments when I feel extremely lonely and really want some social interaction with a friend. I expect that to happen occasionally though, so it’s not something I dwell upon.  It’s all the more reason to read a book or use the fitness center anyway.  It feels good to have my own space.  It’s a huge boost to my confidence to have my own place.

Awake. Restless. Bored. Lonely.

I’ve been in my apartment now for a full week. Still unpacking due to not having the discipline to say no when I’m invited out.  Interestingly enough, it’s the end of the weekend and I wasn’t invited anywhere yesterday or today (except to go watch A Game of Thrones at a friend’s house tonight).  So I unpacked quite a bit this weekend and it seems like nothing much has been accomplished.

I think I’ve had too much caffeine today. It’s midnight and I’m not really tired. It’s one of those nights I want to take a drive along the coast with one of my best friends. Unfortunately, that friend lives in Seattle.

Anyway, I wanted to put up some kind of post. I don’t have any more from MySpace to repost so here’s one from Facebook.  It was one of those things where somebody writes a number of random things about themselves and if they “tagged” you in their post, you were supposed to do the same thing.  Kinda stupid actually, but I was a sucker for those on MySpace.

This one was posted January 29, 2009, over two years ago now.  That time has flown. In some ways I’ve changed so much for the better; in other ways I still have a lot of work to do.

---

25 personal tidbits you shouldn't know about me.

1. I can't believe I'm doing one of these lists. I thought MySpace was for that.
2. I recently had braces (removed last year). It was the second time I've had them. My teeth are much straighter now, but I'm still not 100% satisfied.
3. I was married for seven and a half years.
4. My ex-wife is one of my best friends.
5. I'm trustworthy when it comes to others, but far too unguarded about my own self.
6. Both of my parents became deaf when they were infants.
7. ASL (American Sign Language) is my first language. English is my second.
8. I'm color blind (not the black & white kind).
9. I have an absurdly large collection of mp3s (over 250GB and counting).
10. I tend to overuse parentheses.
11. I like using Google applications: Gmail, Google Calendar, Google Notebook, Google Maps, Google Docs. I plan on using Picasa once I finally get in the habit of taking pictures.
12. I hate about 99% of the pictures taken of me.
13. I have a dangerously negative self-image, but I'm working very hard to change that now. It's quite draining at times.
14. I usually have a great sense of humor. Even if you don't get it.
15. Despite the fact I own about five orange shirts (and yes I can tell they're orange), it's not my favorite color.
16. Though I don't smoke it, I think pot should be legalized and regulated.
17. I've maxed out my queue on Netflix at 500 movies and have more than 200 more listed in my Google Notebook.
18. I lack the discipline to go to bed at a decent hour and get a good night's rest, averaging about 4 hours of sleep a weeknight.
19. I've made a half-assed attempt to take my own life three times in my life; once in the past six months. Dumb, dumb, dumb.
20. I'm working very hard to stay alive and optimistic now. It's quite exhilarating at times.
21. I had a solo part in my church youth choir and it was probably the most dreadful thing you ever would've heard.
22. I was dragged by a car around 50 feet or so when I was about 5 or 6 years old, leaving my right shin nearly completely lacerated.
23. If it wouldn't make a difference to my weight, I would eat breakfast burritos from anywhere for breakfast, eat at Red Robin or any Chinese food place for lunch, and eat at Outback or any Italian restaurant for dinner. Every day. I'm also always down for chips n' salsa.
24. Though I love the beach and everything about it and could spend hours walking up and down the shore, and even though I live not more than 15 minutes away from it, I rarely go.
25. Is there anything in this world better than peanut butter? I mean, really. It's so friggin' good.

Subway’s marketing hogwash

I know Subway is in the "fast food" category as is McDonalds, but Subway's campaign to eat their "less than 6 grams of fat" sandwiches versus having a Big Mac is ridiculous.  When Subway asks the question why I'd want to eat a Big Mac when I could have a fresh Subway sandwich, my answer is, "Because I want a BURGER!  Not a sandwich."  WTF, Subway?  Really?  If I'm craving an In N' Out milkshake, I'm not going to a Jamba Juice. 

Besides, Subway.  Your sandwiches are shit.  You are the McDonalds of sub shops.  Maybe that's why you don't compare yourself to any other sub shop like Quiznos, Togos or Jersey Mike's.  Your meats are not good quality, they're bland; and there's nothing special about your toppings.  I can make a sandwich better at home.  You survive only because of convenience.  Can I make a Big Mac at home?  Sure.  I could try.  Probably wouldn't taste as good as McDonald's.  But I KNOW I can make a better sandwich than you guys.  When I want a cheap and quick sandwich, I might go to one of your million hole-in-the-wall shops if a Quiznos or Jersey Mike's isn't close enough. And your steak and egg breakfast sandwich is not so bad.  Otherwise, don't sell your bulljive at me.

New home!

I'm finally moving out!  As of April 9th, I will no longer be renting a room inside a house, but rather a one bedroom apartment all to myself.  I am sooo very excited to move out, while also very nervous.  My contract work could end at any time so I'm taking a huge leap of faith that I'll be ok.  I've made some major progress in reducing my debt so if worse comes to worse, I can pay minimums on my monthly debt rather than what I have been doing.

I'm also slightly worried with how I'll handle being by myself for most of the time.  In all my life, I've lived with someone else.  I've never lived completely alone.  A couple of years ago, this would not have been a good idea in the least.  But I'm confident it's the right decision now and I'm happy I've made it.

I've been so excited, I've even thought of a quick list of great things I'm looking forward to as the move-in day gets closer.

Top 10 Reasons I Will Love My New Apartment

TEN
I won't be completely embarrassed or held back from inviting a girl to my place, rather than to my room.

NINE
I can lounge in my underwear. I suppose I could've done that before, but that would've made my housemates very uncomfortable.

EIGHT
It'll be my TV in the living room with my recorded shows. And I'll get to watch them on a couch instead of from a bed.

SEVEN
Since my TV will be in a living room and not a bedroom, I'll have room for Rock Band! (And a Kinect if the games get a whole lot better).

SIX
I'll have a 24 hour fitness center to work on my cardio. It's midnight and I feel like getting some stress out of my system by walking? No problem. Mosey on down to the fitness center feeling safe and secure during my walk.

FIVE
I can leave the door open when I shower so it won’t be hot and steamy in the bathroom to the point I'm sweating buckets by the time I'm done shaving.

FOUR
No more stairs!!! Walking upstairs after a workout and, well, just in general pretty much sucks.

THREE
My own kitchen! Gas stove! My own kitchenware! I can stock the pantry, freezer and fridge FULL of what I want. Costco, here I come again.

TWO
Air conditioning any time I want! As cold as I want!

ONE
My parents will get to come visit me.  They haven't been down to California in about 7 years. I'll finally have a place where they can stay with no concern for sharing a bathroom or kitchen, or whether or not they'll be too loud for my roommates.

This won’t be funny to you…

Until I can put some of my ranting thoughts in order, I’m posting some of my old “blogs” from the MySpace days. Considering they’re more than 2 or 3 years old, they’re quite outdated. They’re also pretty ridiculous in nature—so not much different than now.

Originally posted on MySpace December 15, 2008

But it's funny to me (and Amber since I stole it from her blog).  None of the names have been changed so no innocent is protected.

Albert: what are you guys going to order tonight?
(2:30:58 PM) Amber: steak
(2:31:11 PM) Amber: : D
(2:31:20 PM) Amber: don't know what kind yet.
(2:32:08 PM) Albert: No Rules Pasta
Grilled shrimp, scallops or chicken breast. Served over fettuccine with a Parmesan cream sauce.
(2:32:20 PM) Darrin: steak with steamed veggies, hold the carrots.
(2:32:25 PM) Darrin: side salad with ranch, hold the red onions.
(2:32:39 PM) Darrin: hot waitress, hold my johnson
(2:40:52 PM) Darrin: tough crowd.
(2:43:35 PM) Albert: I like my women like my crowds. Tough and numerous.
(2:45:12 PM) Amber: they have pasta?
(2:45:51 PM) Albert: Yes.
(2:46:06 PM) Amber: mm
(2:47:11 PM) Darrin: the only entree i've had that wasn't steak there was the alice springs chicken.
(2:47:17 PM) Darrin: which was good.
(2:47:27 PM) Darrin: but it's outback the steakhouse, not outback the pollopen.
(2:47:45 PM) Albert: i've never had their steak.
(2:47:48 PM) Darrin: so i can haz stekz
(2:47:57 PM) Amber: I'm getting steak
(2:48:02 PM) Darrin: I'm getting steak
(2:48:03 PM) Amber: usually get the outback combo
(2:48:11 PM) Darrin: w/ shrimp?
(2:48:16 PM) Amber: no
(2:48:18 PM) Darrin: w/ lobster
(2:48:19 PM) Darrin: ?
(2:48:24 PM) Darrin: w/ pancakes?
(2:53:52 PM) Albert: wow, tough crowd.
(2:54:11 PM) Amber: haha
(2:54:16 PM) Amber: with steak!!
(2:54:20 PM) Amber: jesus
(2:54:43 PM) Amber: + a baked potato and a caesar salad
(2:55:32 PM) Albert: any appetizers????? enquiring minds want to know.
(2:55:34 PM) Amber: crimany
(2:55:47 PM) Albert: fast response there
(2:56:03 PM) Amber: it was sent before yours showed up
(2:56:12 PM) Albert: crimany
(2:56:23 PM) Amber: im dying laughing again
(2:56:35 PM) Darrin: wait you're getting an outback combo of steak + steak? what kind of combo is that?
(2:56:36 PM) Albert: I have that affect on the world.
(2:56:45 PM) Albert: meatlover combo
(2:56:48 PM) Amber: lolol
(2:56:53 PM) Amber: both of you
(2:56:56 PM) Amber: jeeez
(2:56:59 PM) Albert: speaking of meat lovers. Where's Jaron?

Forwarded emails… from my mom.

I love my mom dearly. I'm a mama's boy to the core. All the good personality traits I have come from her.  There was even a time when I would not take lightly any “mama jokes” about my mom.  I took it personally as a blow of disrespect. (If you do know my mom or have met her, I still will!) But the frequency at which she forwards emails to me has become increasingly irritating.  I've already once told her that I don't look at half of the stuff she forwards me because it's not as interesting to me as it is to her and/or it's simply garbage stuff she's sending (urban legends, propoganada, etc.).  

I'll backtrack to the origin of this rant first.  It started with the thought, "preaching to the choir."  My mom has been deaf nearly her entire life.  She didn't even learn commonly used sign language (ASL) until she was about 8. Deaf society and culture was much different and treated much differently when my mom was growing up. Education for the deaf was institutionalized rather than integrated. So written sarcasm or cliché phrases like "preaching to the choir" don't always make sense to her, at least not without further explanation.

Back to the forwarded emails. Fond as I am of trivia games, I don't find "interesting facts about" whatever to be as interesting as my mom thinks they are.  And a good portion of the time, they're not facts at all.  She also sends me political emails from parties that promote their own agenda with major embellishments and skewed statistics.  But a majority of the emails lately seem to be religious—Powerpoint presentations of beautiful scenery tagged with verses from the Bible, anecdotes of Jesus' time on earth, even emails that predict end times based on current events and tragedies.  I don't need to see any of those.  Although there are many questions I still have (and admittedly remain ignorant about), I'm already a "believer," mom.  I don't need my inbox spammed with the very thing I'm already familiar with. In other words, you're preaching to the choir. I don't need to be converted.  It's done. 

I'm almost at the point where I want to set up a Gmail filter to tag anything with a "FWD" in the subject line from her and trash it.  Or maybe label it and archive it so I can review once a week to see if she added any of her own thoughts into the email to which I may need to respond. But usually it’s, "Interesting. Have you heard about these?"  No, mom. And I don't really want to take the time to find out if any of it's true because your sources suck. And mom? Please learn to remove the other headers from your forwarded emails so when I forward you something truly of value, people don't get my email address and send me the same thing you're forwarding me.  Thanks.  I love you!

Being sick sucks.

I don't like being sick.  I suppose nobody does.  But it's part of life; I accept that.  What I hate more is that when I'm sick, I don't have the energy to do much of anything at all.  It feels like a waste of a day when I can't get a single productive thing done. I only have the sniffles right now and as annoying as they may get, I could still re-organize my desk or clean a closet.  But my energy level betrays me. I become exhausted so quickly and am drawn back to laying in bed.  

I suppose that tells me I'm not doing enough productive things when I am well.  I shouldn't have chores to do if I'm sick.  I should just be able to take a day of rest and not stress about the things that need to be put away or cleaned.  Hmm, didn't think this rant would be a two-parter and one against myself at that.  Wow, this blog is good for self-realization!  OK, now I'm rambling... and I'm typing it... I'm so weird.

I also didn't go to Crossfit this morning, so although I'm currently one ahead of bartender friend, I'm now one behind my other friend.  Argh!

Another bet… also a workout boast

So apparently, the challenge/gambling nature in me is still ever present.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine and I were having drinks at a bar where our mutual friend bartends.  All three of us workout at the same gym, Crossfit714.  Somehow it came up in conversation between my friend and I that another challenge between us needed to be made.  At first I declined.  The last challenge was $200 toward a trip to Vegas for the most body fat percentage lost over 3 months.  We both did horrible at the challenge, but I did worse.  And I knew I could've done better.  I didn't want to spend that kind of money again.  Although I didn't mind putting up some kind of money.  That should motivate me right?

I'm not sure which one of us thought of it, but we decided to make the challenge—who does more WODs (Workout Of the Day) from that day until May 7th (which is my friend’s birthday).  I think I came up with the specific bet because my friend hadn't been going in about three weeks and I had gone at least once a week. I thought it might give me a slight edge because he's been worried about hurting his back and wrists to the point of not showing up to WODs.

But...  He decided to ask our mutual bartender friend into the challenge.  These two have been members at the gym since early November.  Bartender friend has been going 3 times a week consistently, not missing a class, except for about a week and a half when she hurt her rib.  Other than that, she's been unstoppable.  My friend said, "Then this should be good motivation for the both of us."  FUCK THAT.  But I accepted the challenge.  I will try.  And if I lose, I'm only doing my body a favor by exercising, even if it feels tortuous while I'm doing it.  And I can still have an advantage.  My bartender friend says she can only go Monday, Wednesday and Friday and not Tuesdays and Thursdays (even though our bet was made on a Tuesday and she had gone that morning to make up for the Monday she missed).  I go in the morning before work so theoretically I can go every day. That gives me a potential two extra days over her every week.  Now, it means I have to beat my other friend since he works from home and could go every day and more than once a day if he wants.  The other kicker to the bet—Bartender friend had gone to her WOD that day we started the bet, so she was automatically one day up on us.

And that leads me to my rave instead of a rant this time.  I'm SO proud of myself for going FOUR times a week for the past two weeks. I'm sore as hell and I don't see any weight coming off yet, but I'm so glad I went.  Now, I think the bet has only served as a catalyst for me to go to Crossfit with such a goal.  It’s more about trying to create a habit so that going 3 to 4 times a week in the morning becomes routine for me.

At this point [edit: as of yesterday], I'm one WOD ahead of bartender friend and tied with my other friend.  This bet makes me a winner even if I don't win the bet itself. Despite getting up 2 hours earlier than I normally do, I'm feeling great during the day and I'm in a much better mood.  Don't worry though.  Things and people still piss me off, so there will be rants.

Childhood landscape changed. :(

Until I can put some of my ranting thoughts in order, I’m posting some of my old “blogs” from the MySpace days. Considering they’re more than 2 or 3 years old, they’re quite outdated. They’re also pretty ridiculous in nature—so not much different than now.

Originally posted on MySpace October 27, 2008

Not very long ago, the city came and cut down the trees in my parents' front yard.  Apparently they grew tired of trimming the trees that grew around the power lines and just decided to cut them all the way down and kill the roots.

It's not really that big a deal, except that these trees were a part of my childhood playground.  These were two big Evergreens that created a kind of lair in between the two trees.  It was like a shelter.  The branches of the trees spread out and spiraled up like a staircase, so climbing pretty high in the tree was pretty easy and of course death-defying for a little kid.

So I guess this is just to show my friends on my MySpace who grew up with me hiding under, climbing up, and peeing on these trees that the landscape has changed.

Just like every time I go back up to Seattle and see new places pop up and old places torn down, it was strange seeing these trees gone from my parents' house when I visited back in September.

Here are pics to see how it's different now.

Then:

Now:

The RJ Reynolds Weight Loss Plan

Until I can put some of my ranting thoughts in order, I’m posting some of my old “blogs” from the MySpace days. Considering they’re more than 2 or 3 years old, they’re quite outdated. They’re also pretty ridiculous in nature—so not much different than now.

Originally posted on MySpace June 6, 2007

I posted this in response to a friend's blog a few months ago.  I still think it's the most brilliant idea I've ever had, which is to say I never have brilliant ideas...  Read on...

I've heard that a person burns more calories eating celery than the number of calories that celery actually contains.  So, assuming that nicotine is 0 calories and knowing it's addictive, we should figure out a way to add massive amounts of nicotine to celery, so that all a person wants to do is eat celery.  People would take celery breaks at work, eat celery when they're socially drinking, eat celery because it's "cool," and they'd have a stalk after sex while asking the question "Was it good for you?"   Weight loss in action! And because you'd be consuming a veggie that's high in vitamin C (an antioxidant!) all friggin' day long, it would cancel out the whole cancer thing.  I should write a book with loose references to medical journals I've never read to support my "facts" about the benefits of my fail-proof $elery Diet.  I need investors!  Who's with me?!?

I got profiled!

Until I can put some of my ranting thoughts in order, I’m posting some of my old “blogs” from the MySpace days. Considering they’re more than 2 or 3 years old, they’re quite outdated. They’re also pretty ridiculous in nature—so not much different than now.

Originally posted on MySpace February 13, 2007

This happened to me yesterday.  My story must be told.

I wasn't speeding, I wasn't swerving. I even used my signal when making my turns. But for some reason the Po-Po decided to pull me over when I was driving from our corporate office to our off-site data center in Irvine.
I was sitting behind an 18-wheeler at a two-lane left-turn waiting for the light to change. I saw the patrol car pull up in the lane next to me, just a little behind. The light turns green and I follow the 18-wheeler through the turn. I'm now in the middle of three lanes, with the patrol car in the left lane, nearly right along side of me and the semi on the right, but I need to get over to the right. I look over and I see the cop looking at me as I notice him. I accelerate slightly and pass the semi on the right since I needed to make a right turn up ahead. As I do, the patrol car moved over two lanes and pulled right up behind me. Just as I'm about to get to the street I need to turn right on, the cop flips the lights on. I turned very slowly onto my intended street, but realize there's no shoulder, just a sidewalk. I wasn't sure what I should do. Do I slowly drive until I could turn into a parking lot or street, or just stop? Well as soon as I made the decision to stop, I hear a BLOOP coming from his siren. Yeah, I stopped right there. I pulled up as close to the sidewalk as I could.

I couldn't think of a reason why the 5-0 would stop me. Was my tail light out? Did someone steal my tags? Or even my license plate??

As the law enforcer walked up to my car, it was fortunate that my rear windows were rolled down enough so I could lean back and inform him that my driver side window doesn't roll down (yes, STILL, for those of you who know it hasn't been working for over a year now). The officer said nothing and opened my door. He tells me to remove the key from the ignition, so the constant beeping while the door's open wouldn't become bothersome. He then asked for my license and registration. With no hesitation, I gave him the documents.

He asked me where I was headed. I replied, "to the AT&T Data Center off of Kelvin and Jamboree."

"For work?"

"Yes, sir."

"What's wrong with your window?"

"I think the motor's broken. All the other windows roll down except this one. I have the part [lie] but I just haven't put it in yet."

At this point I think, That's it. I'm getting a fix-it ticket because my window won't roll down. But he wouldn't have known that so why the heck did he pull me over?

NOW, he starts asking some unusual questions, all the while with my driver side door open and he's standing practically in the middle of the right lane... 

"Have you ever been pulled over?"

"Yes, sir." 

"What were you pulled over for?"

"Speeding." 

"How long ago was the last time you got pulled over?"

"Quite a while ago, sir. I don't actually remember." 

"Have you ever been arrested or gone to jail?"

"No, sir." Now I'm wondering if they think I'm someone else and I probably have either a scared-shitless look or a look of comical disbelief. 

"Have you ever been in trouble with the law other than traffic violations?" asks the cop.

I almost crack up and I think I may have even chuckled when stumbling with a response. "No, sir. No way, no. Uh-uh. Never." 

"Do you have any weapons or illegal substances in your vehicle?"

I'm thinking WHAT?!? OK, what gives? I'm definitely NOT who you think I am. This time I did let out a small laugh and said, "Absolutely not, officer. None at all." After I replied that way, I thought I just incriminated myself somehow. THEN he tells me why he pulled me over. 

"I pulled you over for these," while tapping my window. He then asks for my insurance card. I give it to him and he says he'll be right back and to watch myself as he closes my door for me. He walks to his patrol car.

The realization hits me that even though he didn't specifically say they're too dark, I've got tinted windows and they're probably TOO dark. So here's a car that you can barely see into, except that you can probably make out that there's some guy with a cap and a shaggy face driving it. AND it's Irvine. No funny-business is allowed in Irvine, one of the top ten safest cities in the United States. Great. Now I'm going to get TWO fix-it tickets. One for the window that won't roll down and one because my windows are too dark. Well, at least I'm not getting arrested... I hope.

Finally, the officer walks back up to my car, on the passenger side this time, and taps on my window. I roll down the window. The officer reaches in without even leaning down whatsoever and hands me my documents. I don't even see his face. All he says is, "This is a verbal warning," and walks away. Like an idiot I lean over to the window and ask, "For the windows, sir?!" realizing I should have kept my mouth shut, but expecting some sort of specific answer as to what was "wrong" with my windows. Without skipping a beat he said, "Yes" and continued walking back to his patrol car.

As I drove away I thought, Maybe, just MAYBE, it's time to fix this window so it rolls down. At least I could go through the drive-thru at Del Taco again.

Retarded bet/I win! (two blogs in one, and an addendum)

Until I can put some of my ranting thoughts in order, I’m posting some of my old “blogs” from the MySpace days. Considering they’re more than 2 or 3 years old, they’re quite outdated. They’re also pretty ridiculous in nature—so not much different than now.

Part 1 “Retarded Bet”
Originally posted on MySpace November 22, 2006

Working in the IT department, where nerds abound, I've met a few of the most athletic or at least sports-involved people I know. Partly due to that fact it seems our department is pretty competitive, especially when wagers are involved. People bet on everything. There's the Bills vs. Raiders pizza party bet from last year, there's our version of the Biggest Loser where we have two teams competing to lose the most percentage of body weight. The prize of course... lunch paid for by the losers (losers of the bet, not losers of the weight). Heck, I've even bet 11 pennies just to see if an incoming phone call was going to be someone calling in sick for the day. There's even been games of chance--heads vs. tails--to determine if someone might be coming out for Happy Hour.

Well now the latest wager is who's going to grow longer hair: Me or Richard. The bet is simple. We both just let our hair grow. Whoever cuts it first loses and has to buy lunch for the winner and the two witnesses of the bet. The loser ALSO has to completely shave his facial hair (eyebrows excluded). That's where the bet turns dangerous for me. For Richard, I don't think that's a big deal, since he pretty much keeps his facial hair to a shadow. It's bad business for me. It's obvious I'd be sporting a bare double-chin with my adorably chubby face if I lose this bet . But it's worse than that. I've had a goatee continuously for eight years now. I would say not more than 5% of my close friends know or remember what I look like without a goatee. Believe me, it's better that way. Thanks to genetics and my dad's side of the family, I've got quite a distinguishable chin. To put it one way, if I wore a suit in high school, I was mistaken for Jay Leno. So for me to win this bet is more than just a free lunch. I cannot and will not allow Richard to win. Past friendly bets have shown that Richard will give up and shave his head before he grows even an inch of hair. But now there's money on the line and a little bit of embarrassment, so we'll see how serious this will get.

Since Richard's head is currently shaved and my hair was a little shaggy, I was allowed a "reset" to cut my hair short for this bet. I've done that today, so the competition is on.

Here's a picture of my hair now. We'll see if Richard doesn't shave his head before I post another pic sometime in the next month or so.

Part 2 “Retarded Bet”
Originally posted on MySpace January 16, 2007

I win!!! See my other blog about the stupid hair bet I made. Today, I received a message on my phone showing Richard with a shaved head and shaved-off beard. That means free lunch for me and I keep my facial hair! Here's a pic of how long my hair got. It didn't really get THAT long and you can't tell much by this picture since I wore a hat all day today.

Addendum, Added today

I actually kept growing my hair out with no goal. Just kept growing it. It eventually grew as long as what you see in the pic below, around June 2007. I only had it cut after this pic because my ex begged I get it cleaned up before her cousin’s wedding I was to attend.

Losing faith in everlasting friendships

Until I can put some of my ranting thoughts in order, I’m posting some of my old “blogs” from the MySpace days. Considering they’re more than 2 or 3 years old, they’re quite outdated. They’re also pretty ridiculous in nature—so not much different than now.

Originally posted on MySpace June 5, 2006

Maybe it's because I'm in Seattle this week and I'm just reminiscing about my past here, but I realized today that everlasting friendships are becoming uncommon. Or at least in my life, they seem to be. Time and distance seem to have such an impact on friendships.

The only person I consider to be my best friend lives halfway across the country, perhaps even more if I really knew my geography. This is a friendship that was built while I was in high school. I was able to tell him anything without feeling judged or belittled. He knew most of my history and I knew most of his. He knew my struggles and I knew his. Typical "best friend" type stuff...

Now... I hardly ever talk to him. I can't even remember the last phone conversation I had with him. The last time I saw him was in December of 2004. The last time I had seen him before that was in 1997, when he helped me pack the moving truck I drove down to California. However... He is still my best friend. Why? When I saw him in 2004, it was like our friendship never skipped a beat. We reminisced of old times of course, but we also talked about new things going on in our life and the conversation never got stale. I was still able to say anything without feeling judged. Even if I become a complete asshole in this world, I know he'll still be my friend. I know that if things get so bad I need somewhere to turn, I can still call him up and get support.

Why am I even mentioning all this? Because it's amazing how some of the other friendships I've had that seemed so strong have withered so easily over time. The friends I grew up with from the time I can remember all the way through my high school years, I hardly know now. Since I've moved to California, I hardly see them, hardly e-mail them, hardly talk to them. Again, time and distance have such an impact on friendships. Even some of the friends I've made since moving down to California, I only see from time to time. Friends I've had when I worked at Mercury Insurance, I rarely see. Friends I've had at White Cap who no longer work there, I hardly see. I know that some day when I leave White Cap, I won't be as close to the friends I have there now.

All these relationships fade and it's quite sad. It seems that as I get older, the harder it is to form permanent friendships with people. When there's not a single common gathering place where people regularly meet, the friendship goes away. Whether it's been school, work or church, a common thread kept the friendship going. When that common thread disappears, the friendship eventually goes too. Time passes by and because the reason for getting together is no longer there, friends stop meeting. Because someone has moved more than 30 minutes away, friends stop meeting. Friendships seem to be conditional.

Perhaps my expectations for building new friendships are too high. Maybe being vulnerable is only for spouses and siblings, neither of which I have. Maybe just going out with friends for drinks, seeing movies, or playing sports is all that there is in a friendship; not discussing life issues, beliefs, goals or anything else that might be too personal.

Don't get me wrong. I do have great friendships right now and I enjoy being with my friends as much as possible. But when I look at the friendships I had 10 years ago and see what state they're in now, I wonder which of my current friendships will be sustained 10 years from now?

Stanky Corridor

Until I can put some of my ranting thoughts in order, I’m posting some of my old “blogs” from the MySpace days. Considering they’re more than 2 or 3 years old, they’re quite outdated. They’re also pretty ridiculous in nature—so not much different than now.

Originally posted on MySpace March 25, 2006

The entrance to the bathrooms where I work have a double entrance. You walk through one door, enter a small corridor, open another door and you're in the bathroom.

Here's my bewilderment. What's the corridor for? There's no clearly visible vents of any kind. Only a flourescent light and fire sprinkler. My best guess: This room is a "stank corridor." A way to help release the stank left by men after they've presided over the procelain throne as King Poopa. Perhaps it's like a pressure release for the stank.

For example, when the stank has filled in the bathroom, as the gentleman exits the bathroom into the corridor, some of the stank gets into that corridor as well. Only a little bit of the stank gets out though as the window of opportunity for the stank to escape is limited to the amount of time between when the door gets opened and shuts. When the gentleman exits the corridor, the stank wafts out of the corridor. It's unfortunate that any stank escapes into the hallway whatsoever, but at least it's limited.

Here's my rant. Why oh why is the Stank Corridor always so damn stanky?! There should be about the same level of stank entering as leaving, which means a minimal amount of stankiness. Is someone sabotaging the process by holding the door between the bathroom and the corridor open, thus saturating the Stank Corridor with stank? Once closed, do they exit so swiftly that the door-to-hallway window of opportunity is practically nothing? What would drive someone to do such harm to mankind? If the stank was visible as a mist, somewhat like cigarette smoke, there would be a cloud o' stank lingering right outside the men's bathroom.

Now far be it from me to volunteer, I would never want the job, but there should be somebody to regulate the flow. A Stank Inspector, a Bathroom Bouncer, an Oust Officer or a Corridor Captain. Insert any clever name you want, but it's a tragedy and having to endure some of the kings' pungent sovereignty building up inside the Stank Corridor is torture.