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 Considering they’re more than 2 or 3 years old, they’re quite outdated.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.

Running low on creative gas.

I have some rants and random thoughts scribbled here and there (technically typed in my Evernote), but nothing solid enough to make a blog post. Then I remembered I had a few "blog" postings from way back in the day on MySpace, circa 2006. I think I shall post some until I get some thoughts organized.

Valentine shmalentine!

Just a friendly reminder that this a blog of rants, and not at all eloquently written.  It's pure babble, OK?

I don't know the history of Saint Valentine.  I don't really care to take the time to find out.  But there's really one main reason I dislike Valentine's Day.  It's a marketing gimmick.  Most holidays are, but this one preys so heavily I think it only comes second to Christmas (maybe third to Halloween) in its pervasive nature.  At least there's a "reason for the season."  But with Valentine's Day, not so much.  It's entirely for greeting card and candy companies, florists, and jewelers to pressure consumers to buy affection from their loved ones, sparks of interests, or what have you.  It's advertising at its finest.  They influence you to think, "If I don't buy this product, it means I must not care for my loved one as much as I say.  What will others think if I'm the only one who doesn't send flowers or candy to them? I haven't been very romantic all year; whatever I buy this day will make up for it!"  The only action that speaks louder than words on Valentine's Day is the act of buying.  If you really care for the person you're with, you don't wait for only one day a year to impress them.  Who you are and your actions every day make you desirable.  Romantic suprises throughout the year make your relationship thrive.

On the other hand, I won't deny that not having a Valentine for Valentine's Day stings me a little.  It's a reminder to me that I don't have a special someone of my own to spend Valentine's Day with, especially when last year I did.   It's even worse when I have an infatuation with someone and she is unavailable. (Story of my life and fodder for another blog post.) This year, I spent it with a date-rejected buddy of mine as well as a couple of other bartender friends working the other side of the bar.  I raged (half-jokingly) against Valentine's Day by getting drunk and putting bitter, anti-love songs on the jukebox. I shot pool. I joked. I laughed. I had fun. But I still went home alone.

Two years ago or so, when I held so tightly to a much more hopeless view of my life, I created an "Anti-Valentine" iTunes playlist.  It hasn't changed much.  I still add songs to it if I think about it, because I still listen to it when I feel a little heartache now and then. And because they're fun to sing to (alone of course). I won't apologize for any of them being cheesy either!

Heart - “Alone”
Miranda Lambert - “Kerosene”
Orgy - “Blue Monday”
Rolling Stones - “She’s So Cold”
Paramore - “Misery Business”
Dramarama - "Anything, Anything (I'll Give You)"
Marilyn Manson - "Tainted Love"
Plain White T's - "Hate (I Really Don't Like You)"
Justin Timberlake - "What Goes Around..."
The All-American Rejects - "Gives You Hell"
OneRepublic - "Apologize"
Kanye West - "Heartless"
Three Days Grace - "Pain"
Alice In Chains - "Nutshell"
Jimmy Eat World - "Get It Faster"
Fleetwood Mac - "Go Your Own Way"
Keith Urban - "You'll Think Of Me"
Linkin Park - "Valentine's Day"
Anberlin - "Feel Good Drag"
Metallica - "Die, Die My Darling"
Little Big Town - "Good As Gone"

Taking a step

One of my resolutions for this year was to read more books.  I just took a step that will hopefully force (uh, motivate?) me to do so.  I reduced my Netflix subscription from 3 DVDs at a time to 1 at a time, with unlimited streaming of course.  Most of what's available to stream is pretty crappy so I'll pretty much be watching one good movie per week, not including any theater visits.  Considering some of my friends live and die on TV, movies, and pop culture references, this may alienate me a little bit from some conversations.  I don't care.  When I make an honest evaluation of TV, it's a time sink and a brainsuck to spend time watching it alone.  I'm not a hypocrite.  I've enjoy watching TV shows and movies.  It's a great escape from reality 20 to 40 minutes at a time, but I'm also very aware by the evidence of clutter around me that I'm not accomplishing anything of value while watching it either.  It takes me longer to process information.  I'm not a quick reader.  I to devote more to reading.  And that means less time viewing.

Over the past few weeks, I've also been cutting the number of movies down in my Netflix queue.  It was maxed out at 500 for such a long time, I had all extra movies I wanted to watch "eventually" saved in a Google Notebook list.  My pack-rat nature had taken over. It started to feel like an overwhelming to-do list rather than a list of movies I truly wanted to watch and enjoy.  By cutting down the list, I think I've brought it to where, psychologically, I don't feel I have to get through a movie or two every day to stay ahead of my ever-growing queue.

I didn't put much thought into this post. Obviously not a rant.  Just a blurb.  Time to read a chapter or two.

The Ex

When I say "my ex," I'm usually referring to my ex-wife.  It's her birthday today, so I'm going to post a little about her.

I was married from December 28th, 1998 until July 15th (or was it 16th?), 2006. I was 22 when I got married. And I was immature. And a lot of other dumb things, I'm sure. I was 30 when I got divorced—and still immature.  I'm not delving into the history of my marriage, but needless to say my ex-wife and I developed differences that made a healthy marriage difficult to maintain.

So it's strange for most people to hear me say that my ex-wife is one of my best friends.  We're not buddy-buddy, "Hey let's go spend the afternoon playing some mini-golf for the hell of it," best friends. The fact she lives in another state makes that unfeasible anyway. But she is one of the few people I can really trust and rely upon.  She's incredibly smart, humorous, nurturing, crafty, skillful, grounded, and has the most common sense of anyone I've known.  She's beautiful.  She's helpful when I ask for help. She's quiet when I just want to vent. She emails me tons of informative stuff, quite often hooking me up with some good deals, or at least letting me know about them. (I'm a Google whore and since she's also gaga for Google, I learn a lot of cool stuff about Gmail, etc. from her). I can be quite open with her about my thoughts or feelings regarding people or circumstances. I'm able to receive criticism or praise from her, whereas before I would be in defense mode, viewing any criticism as judgement or ridicule. Her opinions are usually important to me now. 

I think I've come a long way in the time since our divorce. Having made friends and relationships during our separation and after the divorce helped me to see who I am, what I want to be, and what I won't put up with.

A couple of years ago, I was having a very difficult time coping with my life. My ex was one of the few people who truly gave me support, inspiring words, and encouragement.  In many ways, I think that when I really become interested in a certain woman, I still use my ex as a quality standard to measure her against. Except for music—we have very little in common when it comes to music! Nobody's perfect.

I do see her every once in a while.  Her family and I are still close and I'm still invited to birthday parties and the like.  When we see each other, it's like seeing any other close friend.  We can be serious, joke and tease each other.

And in case you're thinking, am I in love with her?  No.  Do I love her?  Yes, dearly. I have a deep respect for her and I hope we'll be friends for a very long time. It's awesome knowing that even though we weren't the best spouses for each other, we can still be great friends.