Even though it's obvious and predicable, I've decided that I should end this year with a look back at 2008 as it pertains to FITS. I've spent the better part of the last two hours skimming over everything I posted, searching for the highs and lows... I've found that there were plenty of lows, no shortage of crappy posts on this blog. I must admit that I cringed quite a few times and had to fight off the urge to go back and edit some things... but to my surprise, there were some really good posts as well. More than I had remembered actually. I realize I've been in a bit of a funk lately (by my estimation I've been putting out about one good post per month over the last quarter), but seeing some of my old stuff was proof that I am still moderately talented and can occasionally write something funny or inspired. Who knew?
Now... after giving myself that much needed pat on the back, I'm now going to have to be brutally honest and reveal a shameful fact: my best post of 2008 (the high point of the year) was actually the first post I wrote in January... It was called "An Un-Filtered Stream of... Something" and you can read it here.
As good as the post was, do you know how fucking depressing it is to know the best thing I wrote in '08 was also the first thing I wrote? Everything that followed was worse than that. [re-read that last sentence a couple of times to get the full depressing effect]
And to make things even more embarrassing, it wasn't even a post that I thought out! I didn't craft it in my journal first then transfer the best parts to the blog. There was no outline. I didn't re-write certain paragraphs over and over until it "felt good". I didn't agonize for an hour over the proper ending... I just sat down wrote whatever came to my mind.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed re-reading it and I'm proud to say I wrote it but as I clicked through page after page of 2008 blog entries I kept hoping I would come across something better, and it never happened. The closest I could come was this post in June, but I couldn't honestly say it was any better. So in a way, you could argue that my high point of the year (as far as the blog is concerned) was in a way, also the low point.
Then again, a good case can be made for September being the low point as well. "Mike So Def" actually wrote the best and most thought provoking post of the month and I submitted nothing but filler. Really, had it not been for Mike that would have been the worst month in the history of this blog since "the dark period".
I should also note my disappointment that in May I came up with a pretty good idea to post the details of famous mysteries and then have everyone create their own theories as to what really happened. It started out really well with the mystery of the missing judge, but for some reason I never trotted out another mystery. Maybe the idea will resurface in '09.
I am sure of one thing though, I plan on starting the year off with a forgettable post. I will not my high point be my low point for two straight years!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
The Queen of the Mall
I suppose my first mistake (aside from going to the mall in the first place, or putting off my Christmas shopping until the last minute) was going to the toy store first... I had to buy gifts for two of my little cousins. My thinking was that those would be the easiest gifts to pick out so I would start there. And as it turns out I was right. One Buzz Lightyear and one Sheriff Woody action figure. Done. Just like I had planned.
What I wasn't counting on however was that ever time the bag I was carrying the toys in would brush against anything the Buzz Lightyear would go off and announce to anyone standing near by that he was headed "To infinity and beyond!"
The first time it was funny. It became a mild annoyance when I was walking through the mall. But once I got to the jewelry store and started trying to shop for my wife, it got down right embarrassing.
"Excuse me miss, I was wondering if you could show me that earring and necklace set right over- [TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!] there..."
I was trying to be serious and make an expensive decision on jewelry, and every few seconds Buzz had to interrupt.
But things would only get worse from there... The lady at the jewelry store was named 'Reina'. For those of you who aren't bilingual, 'Reina' means 'Queen' in Spanish. Its a fairly common name, but its a little too grandiose for my tastes... Oh look, here we have a real Queen in the flesh, and of course, where else would you expect to find a Queen but working at a jewelry place in the mall for $9/hour... I don't know if its my negative attitude towards the name or just pure coincidence, but I've also never had a good experience with a woman who has this name.
Anyway, the "Queen" was for the most part plesant and in her mid 40's... She was professional and helpful during the process, but I could tell that Buzz Lightyear's antics were starting to get on her nerves. No matter how I tried to re-arrange the bag, Buzz just couldn't be silenced. There was nothing to do but ignore him and focus on the matter at hand... "Queen" showed me a dozen different pieces of jewelry. None of them had prices on them, so every time I liked something she would have to go into the back to check. Invariably, each time she would come back and say "oh what luck, this one is on sale" and then she would give me a price that seemed to very contrary to the spirit of the whole "sale" theme.
But of course it was too late in the shopping season to be picky so I settled on something I thought Morena would like and had the Queen wrap it up. As she did this she began making small talk. She asked what the weather was like outside, if it was dark yet, what road conditions were like, and how the traffic was... All of this led me to assume she was about to get off work and was trying to gauge what kind of commute she was facing.
"About to get off work?" I asked as she handed over the bag with my gift.
She froze and gave me a cold hard stare... I got the sense that I had done something wrong. Was there something wrong with my question?
"Aren't you married?" she asked. It was more of an accusation than a question. Her tone was clearly offended.
Now I'm not a perfect husband. I hit on other women, I flirt, I have wandering eyes... but I do have some standards. For instance, I would never hit on a 45 year old woman who is mildly attractive at best while I'm shopping for my wife, even if she is a 'Queen'!
I walked away angry thinking "that's another bad 'Reina' experience I can add to my list," and of course Buzz was still pulling his antics. With not nearly all of my shopping done, I decided it was time to go. I still have a little bit of time left, and the grocery store across the street from my house sells gift cards from just about every store on the planet. If my family doesn't approve of the lack of creativity in this years gifts they can blame Buzz Lightyear and the Queen of the Mall Jewelry Store.
What I wasn't counting on however was that ever time the bag I was carrying the toys in would brush against anything the Buzz Lightyear would go off and announce to anyone standing near by that he was headed "To infinity and beyond!"
The first time it was funny. It became a mild annoyance when I was walking through the mall. But once I got to the jewelry store and started trying to shop for my wife, it got down right embarrassing.
"Excuse me miss, I was wondering if you could show me that earring and necklace set right over- [TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!] there..."
I was trying to be serious and make an expensive decision on jewelry, and every few seconds Buzz had to interrupt.
But things would only get worse from there... The lady at the jewelry store was named 'Reina'. For those of you who aren't bilingual, 'Reina' means 'Queen' in Spanish. Its a fairly common name, but its a little too grandiose for my tastes... Oh look, here we have a real Queen in the flesh, and of course, where else would you expect to find a Queen but working at a jewelry place in the mall for $9/hour... I don't know if its my negative attitude towards the name or just pure coincidence, but I've also never had a good experience with a woman who has this name.
Anyway, the "Queen" was for the most part plesant and in her mid 40's... She was professional and helpful during the process, but I could tell that Buzz Lightyear's antics were starting to get on her nerves. No matter how I tried to re-arrange the bag, Buzz just couldn't be silenced. There was nothing to do but ignore him and focus on the matter at hand... "Queen" showed me a dozen different pieces of jewelry. None of them had prices on them, so every time I liked something she would have to go into the back to check. Invariably, each time she would come back and say "oh what luck, this one is on sale" and then she would give me a price that seemed to very contrary to the spirit of the whole "sale" theme.
But of course it was too late in the shopping season to be picky so I settled on something I thought Morena would like and had the Queen wrap it up. As she did this she began making small talk. She asked what the weather was like outside, if it was dark yet, what road conditions were like, and how the traffic was... All of this led me to assume she was about to get off work and was trying to gauge what kind of commute she was facing.
"About to get off work?" I asked as she handed over the bag with my gift.
She froze and gave me a cold hard stare... I got the sense that I had done something wrong. Was there something wrong with my question?
"Aren't you married?" she asked. It was more of an accusation than a question. Her tone was clearly offended.
Now I'm not a perfect husband. I hit on other women, I flirt, I have wandering eyes... but I do have some standards. For instance, I would never hit on a 45 year old woman who is mildly attractive at best while I'm shopping for my wife, even if she is a 'Queen'!
I walked away angry thinking "that's another bad 'Reina' experience I can add to my list," and of course Buzz was still pulling his antics. With not nearly all of my shopping done, I decided it was time to go. I still have a little bit of time left, and the grocery store across the street from my house sells gift cards from just about every store on the planet. If my family doesn't approve of the lack of creativity in this years gifts they can blame Buzz Lightyear and the Queen of the Mall Jewelry Store.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
The New Year Purse Snatcher
I was talking with a friend the other day and the subject turned to New Year’s Eve, or more specifically, the worst New Year’s Eve experiences we’ve ever had. For me that’s easy; it was 2002. Hands down. No debate. Nothing else comes close.
I was right smack in the middle of the worst breakup of my life. I’ve written about it here on the blog before, but I don’t think I’ve ever explained how the whole situation was impacted by one really bad New Year's celebration. Against my better judgment, I’m going to do that now.
We were in one of those strange relationship periods that only make sense at the time. Technically we were broken up, but we were still seeing each other. We were still presenting ourselves as a couple, and although we agreed that we weren’t actually together, there was kind of an unspoken agreement that we wouldn’t see anybody else… Of course, I actually did begin seeing someone else... and as those things tend to work, my guilt somehow led me to be suspicious of her.
At the time, I was living in Baltimore with a friend. This roommate was also going through a nasty breakup of his own. We hadn’t really been getting along anyway, so I didn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve alone in the apartment with him. It would be too boring… Too awkward… Too depressing.
I was hoping to go out with my girlfriend that night despite all of the issues we were having. I don’t recall specifically, but perhaps I thought that spending a special New Year’s together would help fix things… Those plans were nixed howeber, when she told me she was staying home to watch her sister’s kids.
Again, it’s important to keep in mind that I had been growing very suspicious… I had been checking her cell phone whenever she wasn’t looking. Asking and re-asking the same questions to try and catch her in a lie. Calling at odd hours to see how she reacted. I was insane.
I did find some evidence to suggest that maybe something was going on... but with all the crap going through my head, I couldn't really be sure if my suspicions were valid or if my guilty conscience was playing with my head.
On the day before New Year’s Eve she told me she needed to get her hair done. I gave her money to do it, but my immediate reaction was to ask myself: “Why does she need to get her hair done if she’s not going out?”
It ate at me the next two days. I asked her over and over again if she was sure she wasn’t going out… she repeatedly assured me that she would be at home watching her sister's kids. She couldn’t go out, and I was going to have to be on my own for New Year’s.
So there I was, out of options, no where to go, drinking in my apartment with my depressed roommate... This was exactly where I didn’t want to be… and of course, I was still wondering about my girl friend. I kept playing over the scenario of things that had been happening between us over and over agan. Each time I did this, I kept coming back to the same conclusion:
“She just got her hair done, of course she’s going out!”
I decided I had to know for sure. I convinced my roommate to go with me. It was about an hour drive and we were already half drunk. When we got there, her car was no where to be found. I finally had my answer; she had lied.
But now that wasn't enough. I suddenly felt the need to actually find her. We drove around the streets of DC, going from club to club, in search of her car. At some point we stopped at a liquor store. We kept drinking. We kept looking. We kept drinking. We kept looking... We found nothing.
During the search, my roommate --a notorious drunk dialer-- decided he needed to call his ex, the girl who had just dumped him. I was too caught up in my own madness to talk him out of it. Predictably, the call didn’t go well and he started crying... This only made me angrier.
So there we were, driving around DC. I was drunk and angry. He was drunk and emotional. And to make matters worse, he tells me he needs to puke. I ended up pulling over into some dark parking lot where he spent 15 minutes throwing up as he wept.
I decided to take him home… Another hour long drive back to Baltimore. The clock struck midnight just as we were pulling into the parking lot of our apartment building.
Happy New Year!
I should have just crashed in my bed and slept it off, but I was still angry. I let him out of the car and turned back around… another hour long drive back to DC. The new plan was to wait outside my girlfriend’s house to see her come home and confront her.
I sat in my car across the street like some sort of pyscho and I waited… and waited… and waited… My drunkenness was starting to wear off and I could feel the hangover setting in. Finally, just as I was about to fall asleep, she came home.
My heart was racing. As she got out of her car I crossed the street with a purpose. The adrenaline had me re-focused and sober. I don’t remember how I confronted her. Did she see me walking over? Did I walk up behind her and grab her arm? Did I yell something to make her turn around and see me? All I remember is that she was shocked.
At first she tried to give me some lame excuse about going to drop her sister’s kids off, but she was all dressed up, she smelled like alcohol… and of course, her hair looked great!
Then, as if out of some sort of movie, she opened her car door to get her purse and a beer bottle fell out of the car and rolled onto the driveway. Despite the circumstances I had honestly been trying to keep my calm during this confrontation, but that set me off. The beer bottle had actually rolled right to my feet... I picked it up, stared at it for a second, (it was an un-opened Heineken, still cold) and then threw it back down onto the driveway as hard as I could. With a dull pop, it shattered spraying glass and beer all over the leg of my jeans.
I looked up at her… she was afraid to speak… clutching the purse in her hands… My eyes focused on the purse. For whatever reason, I thought there might be some evidence of her indiscretion inside. I wanted desperately to search through the purses contents for some sort of smoking gun clue of another guy… A phone number, condoms, a picture, a letter, anything… Instinctively, I snatched the purse from her hands.
When I did that, she started screaming expletives. This only seemed to confirm my suspicions that there was something she didn’t want me to find in the bag. At that point I did what any rational human being would have done... I ran away with the purse!
With her still screaming obscenities at me I got back to my car and sped away. And of course, since she was just as crazy as I was, she chased me in her car.
The sun was just beginning to come up and luckily there were no cars on the road as we sped through red lights. I began to rummage through the purse as I drove and she followed close behind… There was nothing to find… Of course that didn’t mean that she hadn’t cheated, just that I couldn’t prove it.
Frustrated and worried that some cop would see us in our high speed pursuit, I finally decided to pull into a gas station and give up. She pulled in behind me. As she approached the car I noticed, once again, how nice her hair looked... I paid for that hair… So she could go out… And probably with some other guy…
I reached back into the purse one last time and grabbed the cash…$80. Not quite the amount I had paid for her hair to get done, but close enough. I rolled down the window and threw the purse at her. It landed at her feet and I’m sure she yelled a few more choice words at me as I pulled off.
A minute later I was back on the highway for one last hour long drive back to Baltimore.
I don’t remember how long it took before we spoke again, but I think it was only a couple of days later. Believe it or not we actually kept seeing each other for a couple weeks after that, but we both knew it was over. She refused to admit that she had gone out with another guy that night (or that she had gone out at all!) and I refused to admit I had swiped her $80.
The absurdity of the lies seemed to cancel each other out.
To recap the entire incident, I spent at least 4 hours traveling back and forth between Baltimore and DC, I drank way too much, I watched my roommate throw up, and cry, I confirmed that my girlfriend was just as devious as me, I ruined a pair of jeans, I stole a purse, and I had a high speed car chase… Even though I did recoup the extra $80, it was still by far the worst New Year of my life.
How about you guys? Have any New Year's horror stories?
I was right smack in the middle of the worst breakup of my life. I’ve written about it here on the blog before, but I don’t think I’ve ever explained how the whole situation was impacted by one really bad New Year's celebration. Against my better judgment, I’m going to do that now.
We were in one of those strange relationship periods that only make sense at the time. Technically we were broken up, but we were still seeing each other. We were still presenting ourselves as a couple, and although we agreed that we weren’t actually together, there was kind of an unspoken agreement that we wouldn’t see anybody else… Of course, I actually did begin seeing someone else... and as those things tend to work, my guilt somehow led me to be suspicious of her.
At the time, I was living in Baltimore with a friend. This roommate was also going through a nasty breakup of his own. We hadn’t really been getting along anyway, so I didn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve alone in the apartment with him. It would be too boring… Too awkward… Too depressing.
I was hoping to go out with my girlfriend that night despite all of the issues we were having. I don’t recall specifically, but perhaps I thought that spending a special New Year’s together would help fix things… Those plans were nixed howeber, when she told me she was staying home to watch her sister’s kids.
Again, it’s important to keep in mind that I had been growing very suspicious… I had been checking her cell phone whenever she wasn’t looking. Asking and re-asking the same questions to try and catch her in a lie. Calling at odd hours to see how she reacted. I was insane.
I did find some evidence to suggest that maybe something was going on... but with all the crap going through my head, I couldn't really be sure if my suspicions were valid or if my guilty conscience was playing with my head.
On the day before New Year’s Eve she told me she needed to get her hair done. I gave her money to do it, but my immediate reaction was to ask myself: “Why does she need to get her hair done if she’s not going out?”
It ate at me the next two days. I asked her over and over again if she was sure she wasn’t going out… she repeatedly assured me that she would be at home watching her sister's kids. She couldn’t go out, and I was going to have to be on my own for New Year’s.
So there I was, out of options, no where to go, drinking in my apartment with my depressed roommate... This was exactly where I didn’t want to be… and of course, I was still wondering about my girl friend. I kept playing over the scenario of things that had been happening between us over and over agan. Each time I did this, I kept coming back to the same conclusion:
“She just got her hair done, of course she’s going out!”
I decided I had to know for sure. I convinced my roommate to go with me. It was about an hour drive and we were already half drunk. When we got there, her car was no where to be found. I finally had my answer; she had lied.
But now that wasn't enough. I suddenly felt the need to actually find her. We drove around the streets of DC, going from club to club, in search of her car. At some point we stopped at a liquor store. We kept drinking. We kept looking. We kept drinking. We kept looking... We found nothing.
During the search, my roommate --a notorious drunk dialer-- decided he needed to call his ex, the girl who had just dumped him. I was too caught up in my own madness to talk him out of it. Predictably, the call didn’t go well and he started crying... This only made me angrier.
So there we were, driving around DC. I was drunk and angry. He was drunk and emotional. And to make matters worse, he tells me he needs to puke. I ended up pulling over into some dark parking lot where he spent 15 minutes throwing up as he wept.
I decided to take him home… Another hour long drive back to Baltimore. The clock struck midnight just as we were pulling into the parking lot of our apartment building.
Happy New Year!
I should have just crashed in my bed and slept it off, but I was still angry. I let him out of the car and turned back around… another hour long drive back to DC. The new plan was to wait outside my girlfriend’s house to see her come home and confront her.
I sat in my car across the street like some sort of pyscho and I waited… and waited… and waited… My drunkenness was starting to wear off and I could feel the hangover setting in. Finally, just as I was about to fall asleep, she came home.
My heart was racing. As she got out of her car I crossed the street with a purpose. The adrenaline had me re-focused and sober. I don’t remember how I confronted her. Did she see me walking over? Did I walk up behind her and grab her arm? Did I yell something to make her turn around and see me? All I remember is that she was shocked.
At first she tried to give me some lame excuse about going to drop her sister’s kids off, but she was all dressed up, she smelled like alcohol… and of course, her hair looked great!
Then, as if out of some sort of movie, she opened her car door to get her purse and a beer bottle fell out of the car and rolled onto the driveway. Despite the circumstances I had honestly been trying to keep my calm during this confrontation, but that set me off. The beer bottle had actually rolled right to my feet... I picked it up, stared at it for a second, (it was an un-opened Heineken, still cold) and then threw it back down onto the driveway as hard as I could. With a dull pop, it shattered spraying glass and beer all over the leg of my jeans.
I looked up at her… she was afraid to speak… clutching the purse in her hands… My eyes focused on the purse. For whatever reason, I thought there might be some evidence of her indiscretion inside. I wanted desperately to search through the purses contents for some sort of smoking gun clue of another guy… A phone number, condoms, a picture, a letter, anything… Instinctively, I snatched the purse from her hands.
When I did that, she started screaming expletives. This only seemed to confirm my suspicions that there was something she didn’t want me to find in the bag. At that point I did what any rational human being would have done... I ran away with the purse!
With her still screaming obscenities at me I got back to my car and sped away. And of course, since she was just as crazy as I was, she chased me in her car.
The sun was just beginning to come up and luckily there were no cars on the road as we sped through red lights. I began to rummage through the purse as I drove and she followed close behind… There was nothing to find… Of course that didn’t mean that she hadn’t cheated, just that I couldn’t prove it.
Frustrated and worried that some cop would see us in our high speed pursuit, I finally decided to pull into a gas station and give up. She pulled in behind me. As she approached the car I noticed, once again, how nice her hair looked... I paid for that hair… So she could go out… And probably with some other guy…
I reached back into the purse one last time and grabbed the cash…$80. Not quite the amount I had paid for her hair to get done, but close enough. I rolled down the window and threw the purse at her. It landed at her feet and I’m sure she yelled a few more choice words at me as I pulled off.
A minute later I was back on the highway for one last hour long drive back to Baltimore.
I don’t remember how long it took before we spoke again, but I think it was only a couple of days later. Believe it or not we actually kept seeing each other for a couple weeks after that, but we both knew it was over. She refused to admit that she had gone out with another guy that night (or that she had gone out at all!) and I refused to admit I had swiped her $80.
The absurdity of the lies seemed to cancel each other out.
To recap the entire incident, I spent at least 4 hours traveling back and forth between Baltimore and DC, I drank way too much, I watched my roommate throw up, and cry, I confirmed that my girlfriend was just as devious as me, I ruined a pair of jeans, I stole a purse, and I had a high speed car chase… Even though I did recoup the extra $80, it was still by far the worst New Year of my life.
How about you guys? Have any New Year's horror stories?
Monday, December 15, 2008
Sweaty Christmas
The guy in the office next to me, "Jerry", the one who jerked off (allegedly) to Tony Toni Tone, is blasting an R&B Christmas CD right now... Babyface, Keith Sweat, and Boyz II Men are prominently involved, which is bad enough on its own, but we just heard a TLC song called "Sleigh Ride" complete with a Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes rap in the middle... Not good times... The volume is so loud that I had to walk outside to make a phone call!
The proper thing to do here would be to go to politely ask him to turn it down, but the thermostat for our office is in his room and he has a long history of turning the heat all the way up, locking his door, and leaving for the day. He's really passive aggressive like that.
Anyway, I was thinking about a way I could suggest the volume adjustment to him in a way that wouldn't offend him, when "Dan" the ex-military and walking angry white man stereotype decided it to storm into "Jerry's" office and say "if you want to have your little hip-hop Christmas in your office that's fine, but I don't want to have to hear all this 'yo' music when I'm on the phone!"
Gulp... Looks like I can look forward to a week of an oppressive heater and sweaty feet.
The proper thing to do here would be to go to politely ask him to turn it down, but the thermostat for our office is in his room and he has a long history of turning the heat all the way up, locking his door, and leaving for the day. He's really passive aggressive like that.
Anyway, I was thinking about a way I could suggest the volume adjustment to him in a way that wouldn't offend him, when "Dan" the ex-military and walking angry white man stereotype decided it to storm into "Jerry's" office and say "if you want to have your little hip-hop Christmas in your office that's fine, but I don't want to have to hear all this 'yo' music when I'm on the phone!"
Gulp... Looks like I can look forward to a week of an oppressive heater and sweaty feet.
Friday, December 12, 2008
How Many Years Do You Have?
Today is my wife Morena's birthday...
It's not polite to reveal a woman's age, but even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Despite the fact that we've been married for nearly five years now (that's like, half a decade!) I still don't really know how old she is.
When we first met she told me an age, and then a couple weeks later she must have forgotten what she told me the first time and told me something different. She somehow got younger in a week! Later on I saw an ID and saw a completely different age from the other two... and entire DOB was listed wrong.
As it turns out, El Salvador had some law that when a child was born the parents had a certain amount of time to register the birth with the government or they'd have to pay an excessive penalty fee when they finally got around to filing the paper work. The only problem was, if you lived way out in the country in a poor town where almost nobody had a car, it wasn't so easy to travel all the way into the city to get that done... Parents were faced with a decision, either give the correct DOB and pay the fine, or lie about the DOB and pay nothing extra. As a result, almost everyone from my wife's town has an official DOB that is wildly inaccurate... So was she born on 12/12/76, or 2/1/77, or was it something entirely different?
I don't know, she doesn't know, her dad (the one who did the registration) passed away like 10 years ago, and her mom had 13 kids so she doesn't recall the specifics either... So basically, trying to determine my wife's age is like trying to figure out the correct age of a Dominican shortstop.
But regardless of accuracy, this is the designated day we celebrate. So happy birthday Morenita... You pick my dirty socks up off the floor and toss them in the hamper, you always remember where I left my keys, and when I fall asleep on the couch watching TV I somehow wake up wrapped in a blanket with a soft pillow resting beneath my head... And for that, you deserve to have the best 3_th birthday anyone has ever had!
It's not polite to reveal a woman's age, but even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Despite the fact that we've been married for nearly five years now (that's like, half a decade!) I still don't really know how old she is.
When we first met she told me an age, and then a couple weeks later she must have forgotten what she told me the first time and told me something different. She somehow got younger in a week! Later on I saw an ID and saw a completely different age from the other two... and entire DOB was listed wrong.
As it turns out, El Salvador had some law that when a child was born the parents had a certain amount of time to register the birth with the government or they'd have to pay an excessive penalty fee when they finally got around to filing the paper work. The only problem was, if you lived way out in the country in a poor town where almost nobody had a car, it wasn't so easy to travel all the way into the city to get that done... Parents were faced with a decision, either give the correct DOB and pay the fine, or lie about the DOB and pay nothing extra. As a result, almost everyone from my wife's town has an official DOB that is wildly inaccurate... So was she born on 12/12/76, or 2/1/77, or was it something entirely different?
I don't know, she doesn't know, her dad (the one who did the registration) passed away like 10 years ago, and her mom had 13 kids so she doesn't recall the specifics either... So basically, trying to determine my wife's age is like trying to figure out the correct age of a Dominican shortstop.
But regardless of accuracy, this is the designated day we celebrate. So happy birthday Morenita... You pick my dirty socks up off the floor and toss them in the hamper, you always remember where I left my keys, and when I fall asleep on the couch watching TV I somehow wake up wrapped in a blanket with a soft pillow resting beneath my head... And for that, you deserve to have the best 3_th birthday anyone has ever had!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Larry From Three's Company is Spending Your Tax Money
Right now in the conference room down the hallway from me, the government organization I'm working for is about to award a fairly substancial sum of money to a contractor who's wearing a dress shirt (no tie) with the top two buttons undone, and a gold chain is dangling in his chest hair. He also may or may not have hair plugs, I couldn't get a close enough look to confirm. Regardless, there is something going on with his hair line... I thought you might want to know that.
Friday, December 05, 2008
It's Okay... I Guess...
Earlier in the week I stumbled across a stack of old CDs that I had put away and forgotten about some time ago. Most of them were crap which is why they had been forgotten about in the first place, but one CD stood out.
It's a CD Moe Greene made for me back when we still worked together and it says a lot about Moe... I'm actually not really sure what it says about him, but it says something.
The CD is "The Best of Sam Cooke... According to Moe Greene."
When he made it I had just purchased my first Mp3 player from a crackhead in a parking lot and I was itching to put some songs on it. Moe, always helpful, started to burn songs from his work computer onto CDs so that I could then rip them to my computer and transfer them to my new mP3 player... At some point he decided to make the Sam Cooke CD, and he was really excited about it.
"I love Sam Cooke," he enthusiastically said as he handed the CD over.
I slid it into the computer and pressed play... "Cupid"... "Summertime"... "Wonderful World"... "Shake"... "Twistin' the Night Away"... and of course, Moe's favorite, "Chain Gang"... There were a couple of other throw away songs mixed in... It was a decent CD.
But of course, as I skipped from track to track I kept waiting to hear the Sam Cooke song... the heartbreaking orchestra intro, the soulful voice overflowing with pain and struggle. And that magical first line, "I was boooooooooooorn by the river..."
Of course I'm talking about "A Change is Gonna Come"... Cooke recorded the song a few months before his tragic death in 1964. Up until that point Cooke had made strictly pop songs. Safe and uncontroversial... But a few things happened to inspire him to write the song that would be come to be known as "the anthem of the Civil Rights Movement."
First, he was inspired by Bob Dylan's own segregation protest song, "Blowin' in the Wind"... Second, his son died in a drowning accident... and finally, Third, he was arrested while on tour with his band in Louisiana for trying to register at a "White's Only" hotel.
So there he was, inspired, heart broken, and pissed off... The result was, for my money, one of the best 3 or 4 songs ever recorded. No one, and I mean NO ONE, has ever sang their hearts out on a song the way Sam did on "A Change is Gonna Come".
You feel the depth of his pain: "It's been too hard livin', but I'm afraid to die, cause I don't know what's up there, beyond the sky" and yet a glimmer of hope and optimism: "Oh there been times I thought I couldn't last for long, but now I think I'm able to carry on."
This is a black man, born in Mississippi, during the depression, raised on the streets of Chicago... He's been singing happy pop songs for white kids to dance to for a decade, but now the 60's are here and damn it, "It's been a long, long time coming, but I know, a change is gonna come!"
And yet somehow Moe Greene doesn't even think to put the song on his "Best of Sam Cooke" CD!!!!
"How could you NOT have this CD finish up with 'A Change is Gonna Come'"?! I questioned him.
"I don't know..." he replied.
"Don't you like the song?"
"It's okay... I guess..."
I don't care if he wasn't born until 1981, as far as I'm concerned, Moe Greene killed Sam Cooke.
It's a CD Moe Greene made for me back when we still worked together and it says a lot about Moe... I'm actually not really sure what it says about him, but it says something.
The CD is "The Best of Sam Cooke... According to Moe Greene."
When he made it I had just purchased my first Mp3 player from a crackhead in a parking lot and I was itching to put some songs on it. Moe, always helpful, started to burn songs from his work computer onto CDs so that I could then rip them to my computer and transfer them to my new mP3 player... At some point he decided to make the Sam Cooke CD, and he was really excited about it.
"I love Sam Cooke," he enthusiastically said as he handed the CD over.
I slid it into the computer and pressed play... "Cupid"... "Summertime"... "Wonderful World"... "Shake"... "Twistin' the Night Away"... and of course, Moe's favorite, "Chain Gang"... There were a couple of other throw away songs mixed in... It was a decent CD.
But of course, as I skipped from track to track I kept waiting to hear the Sam Cooke song... the heartbreaking orchestra intro, the soulful voice overflowing with pain and struggle. And that magical first line, "I was boooooooooooorn by the river..."
Of course I'm talking about "A Change is Gonna Come"... Cooke recorded the song a few months before his tragic death in 1964. Up until that point Cooke had made strictly pop songs. Safe and uncontroversial... But a few things happened to inspire him to write the song that would be come to be known as "the anthem of the Civil Rights Movement."
First, he was inspired by Bob Dylan's own segregation protest song, "Blowin' in the Wind"... Second, his son died in a drowning accident... and finally, Third, he was arrested while on tour with his band in Louisiana for trying to register at a "White's Only" hotel.
So there he was, inspired, heart broken, and pissed off... The result was, for my money, one of the best 3 or 4 songs ever recorded. No one, and I mean NO ONE, has ever sang their hearts out on a song the way Sam did on "A Change is Gonna Come".
You feel the depth of his pain: "It's been too hard livin', but I'm afraid to die, cause I don't know what's up there, beyond the sky" and yet a glimmer of hope and optimism: "Oh there been times I thought I couldn't last for long, but now I think I'm able to carry on."
This is a black man, born in Mississippi, during the depression, raised on the streets of Chicago... He's been singing happy pop songs for white kids to dance to for a decade, but now the 60's are here and damn it, "It's been a long, long time coming, but I know, a change is gonna come!"
And yet somehow Moe Greene doesn't even think to put the song on his "Best of Sam Cooke" CD!!!!
"How could you NOT have this CD finish up with 'A Change is Gonna Come'"?! I questioned him.
"I don't know..." he replied.
"Don't you like the song?"
"It's okay... I guess..."
I don't care if he wasn't born until 1981, as far as I'm concerned, Moe Greene killed Sam Cooke.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
The Pineapple Cold Killer
I've been fighting off a cold for a little over a week now. It started last Sunday morning when I woke up with a sore throat and a headache. From there it got worse, then better, and then worse again. The low point was last Friday, the day after Thanksgiving when I totally lost my voice. It's been getting a little better every day since then and the soreness is basically gone... Only now I have a really nasty cough developing!
So last night I decided to take drastic measures... I'm behind at work, and in school I have 2 major reports due this week and a final to prep for. I just can't be hampered with this cold right now. I decided the best course of action would be to try and kill this cough right now with a massive wave of over the counter cold medications. The mix I came up with will be from this point on known as "The Pineapple Cold Killer".
I should start by giving you some background... A few weeks ago my wife brought home some pineapple flavored soda because it was on sale. It sounded nasty to me so I avoided it for several days until it was basically the only thing left to drink. Out of options, I broke down and tried it. And it was great! I'm addicted. I can't stop drinking the stuff.
We've also had some left over pineapple flavored rum I haven't been able to get rid of from a Sangria experiment that went bad a couple months back. Well last night I decided I would mix the two together and throw in a shot of grape cough syrup just for the hell of it. I used the drink to wash down 3 NyQuil gel capsules.
So if you're keeping score at home "The Pineapple Cold Killer" recipe looks like this:
-Approximately 2 cups of Pineapple Soda
-1 very generous shot of Pineapple Rum
-1 dose of grape cough syrup
-3 NyQuil pills (the box recommends 2, but I'm looking for results here so fuck recommendations)
After chugging the whole thing down (it tasted pretty damn good) I got into bed to watch some TV and unwind a bit while I waited for the "Pineapple Cold Killer" to take affect. I looked at the clock. It read 8:52 pm. I decided my final move would be to lather my chest with a layer of Vick's Vapor rub just to really top things off...
But it never happened. 7 and a half hours later my wife was shaking me to wake up because my alarm had been going off for 20 minutes and I hadn't even noticed... She claims that when she came to bed last she found me with the unopened bottle of Vick's in my hand, my cell phone resting on my stomach, and all the blankets mysteriously lying in the floor!
When I finally managed to crawl out of bed and walk to the shower it felt like I had just stepped off a merry-go-round. I was dizzy, off balance, and slightly disoriented. Even 20 minutes after my shower I was still pretty groggy... But, for the most part, "The Pineapple Cold Killer" worked! I can breathe through my nose. My throat isn't sore. My voice is back. And the cough is more or less under control! I feel like a new man.
Was it safe for me to drive my car to the Metro parking garage this morning?
Probably not...
Was it healthy to take all that medicine?
I doubt it...
Will I try "The Pineapple Cold Killer" again the next time I have a really bad cold?
AB-SO-LUTELY!*
*I'll probably make sure I have at least 9 hours to sleep it off next time... and maybe that 3rd NyQuil pill was a bit unnecessary. But it's tough to argue with results!
So last night I decided to take drastic measures... I'm behind at work, and in school I have 2 major reports due this week and a final to prep for. I just can't be hampered with this cold right now. I decided the best course of action would be to try and kill this cough right now with a massive wave of over the counter cold medications. The mix I came up with will be from this point on known as "The Pineapple Cold Killer".
I should start by giving you some background... A few weeks ago my wife brought home some pineapple flavored soda because it was on sale. It sounded nasty to me so I avoided it for several days until it was basically the only thing left to drink. Out of options, I broke down and tried it. And it was great! I'm addicted. I can't stop drinking the stuff.
We've also had some left over pineapple flavored rum I haven't been able to get rid of from a Sangria experiment that went bad a couple months back. Well last night I decided I would mix the two together and throw in a shot of grape cough syrup just for the hell of it. I used the drink to wash down 3 NyQuil gel capsules.
So if you're keeping score at home "The Pineapple Cold Killer" recipe looks like this:
-Approximately 2 cups of Pineapple Soda
-1 very generous shot of Pineapple Rum
-1 dose of grape cough syrup
-3 NyQuil pills (the box recommends 2, but I'm looking for results here so fuck recommendations)
After chugging the whole thing down (it tasted pretty damn good) I got into bed to watch some TV and unwind a bit while I waited for the "Pineapple Cold Killer" to take affect. I looked at the clock. It read 8:52 pm. I decided my final move would be to lather my chest with a layer of Vick's Vapor rub just to really top things off...
But it never happened. 7 and a half hours later my wife was shaking me to wake up because my alarm had been going off for 20 minutes and I hadn't even noticed... She claims that when she came to bed last she found me with the unopened bottle of Vick's in my hand, my cell phone resting on my stomach, and all the blankets mysteriously lying in the floor!
When I finally managed to crawl out of bed and walk to the shower it felt like I had just stepped off a merry-go-round. I was dizzy, off balance, and slightly disoriented. Even 20 minutes after my shower I was still pretty groggy... But, for the most part, "The Pineapple Cold Killer" worked! I can breathe through my nose. My throat isn't sore. My voice is back. And the cough is more or less under control! I feel like a new man.
Was it safe for me to drive my car to the Metro parking garage this morning?
Probably not...
Was it healthy to take all that medicine?
I doubt it...
Will I try "The Pineapple Cold Killer" again the next time I have a really bad cold?
AB-SO-LUTELY!*
*I'll probably make sure I have at least 9 hours to sleep it off next time... and maybe that 3rd NyQuil pill was a bit unnecessary. But it's tough to argue with results!
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