Sunday, June 8, 2008


It's enjoyable for me to think about writing up the conclusion to my "Axe murderer" post, informing ya'll about the continued trials and tribulations of "Get fit or die trying," or trying my hand again at political satire. Unfortunately, the actual writing of these stories has lost it's thrill, and this blog has ground to a halt.

This blog has been a great outlet for me. It's given me the opportunity to express myself creatively, and for that I am grateful. Currently it's languishing in some sort of internet purgatory, where small, half thought out posts get written every month or so. Obviously, this is not fulfilling to me or my dwindling readership. At some point you just have to call it, and that's what I'm doing tonight. If I find some way to resurrect this, I'm sure you'll find out about it.

For the few people who use this blog as some sort of way to keep up with me, I've got an easy solution. Pick up the damn phone and call me-I'm looking at you family/friends. That or you can always track me down through the various online social networks, or messaging programs. Don't be strangers. Bye.

Monday, May 12, 2008

It's a crappy place, but it's my crappy place

So exclaimed a former roommate of mine. For a while, this offered me some comfort. Even when the worst things were happening, I could take solace in the fact that it was familiar. After almost 2 years in this dump, familiarity just isn't cutting it anymore. It's 3 am and my basement is currently flooding. I'm not taking bets that the landlord will actually be able to get a plummer out here at this hour, but still I am awake. My jeans are partially soaked, I am tired from moving up boxes of stuff from the basement, and I am stressed and angry. As you have gathered I am very much awake, despite my tiredness. I take some comfort in the fact that I will be moving out in week's time. It can't come soon enough.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Not the bears, anything but the bears

I have an irrational fear of dying in odd manners. This was greatly enhanced about a year ago, when I watched the entire series of Six Feet Under on DVD. One of the trademarks of the show was that it started off each episode by showing the death of a person who ended up in the main characters' funeral home.

Sometimes these death were horrible or sad. Other times they were outlandish, like the jogger who got eaten by a mountain lion, or the house wife who got killed by falling blue ice. Oftentimes they were odd, like the man pulling out of his driveway who opens the car door while still in reverse to pick up his newspaper. Of course he falls out his car and ends up having his head crushed by his SUV.

I have a fear of dying in odd and outlandish manners. No doubt the likelihood of me ever dying because of a bear attack is small, but still the recent news of a bear randomly mauling his trainer has gotten me scared. Oh god, please don't let me be killed by a bear. Any death, but death by bear. If I were to ever go to a fortune teller and ask him how I'd die, and he said, "Well, I see a bear" I'd probably run screaming out of that place... and into the arms of a bear.

Oh, and to wrap some stuff up, I placed 2nd in the basketball tournament. I couldn't ride that 1st place train for more than a few days, but hey 2nd is pretty good too!

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Fluffy tournament update

Holy $#@%! What a week it's been. After a favorable Sweet Sixteen, and a perfect Elite Eight, I've gone from 14th place out of 16, to first place! Am I jinxing myself by writing about my success? Will the cats have the last laugh? Will I be forced to bathe in my own saliva as penance? Stay tuned...

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Being outwitted by Fluffy

I mentioned briefly last year that I participate in a non-competitive college basketball tournament. One of the participants names two of the brackets after his cats, with one of the cats "picking" the winner based on the size of the school, and the other on which mascot could beat up the other mascot. See original post here.

Last year I got third place in the tournament. This year, I am currently third to last-with the cats beating me.

If you choose to have fun with it, I am being outwitted by creatures that bat yarn balls and have substance abuse issues with catnip. If you look at it seriously, I am being outwitted by simple set formulas that don't take into consideration the numerous variables that contribute to the winning and losing in college basketball. All in all, it's a bit humiliating.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Ya'll just made my day!

“Hey ya'll,” said my co-worker.

I paused for a second. I made sure to take in my surroundings-my messy desk, my black and gold coffee mug, my little laptop. I wanted to remember this moment and everything that was associated with it. I had just accomplished the greatest feat of my life....I had just succeeded in fusing southern dialect with Korean co-workers.

Over three years of being laughed at for saying “Ya'll.” Random moments when my accent would become more pronounced, (mostly when I was angry or tired, or so I was told). Multiple jobs, numerous co-workers, and finally the latest job with an office full of Koreans. English was their second language, but southern would be their dialect if there was anything I could do about it.

I didn't sweat the small stuff, I didn't correct them when they constructed their grammatically correct sentences in perfect English. No, my approach was deeper than that. By constantly saying “Ya'll” I'd eventually break down the proper English grammar they had only recently had drilled into their heads.

Today was that day. Today we had a breakthrough.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Whistle while you work


The dogs creeped out from under the trailer. I stepped back slowly.


I could see them clearly now. Two lean, medium sized black dobermans. I stepped back quickly. The dogs kept coming.

I quietly called out to my partner, not wanting to further aggravate the tightly wound beasts carefully making their way toward me. The dobermans were about 10 feet away by now and my back was almost to the car.

I quickly opened the passenger side door and slammed it shut. My partner slid into the seat next to me moments later. We looked at each other. I cursed loudly. This was to be our test. Our first neighborhood in the poorest county of a state that had been overwhelmed by a series of hurricanes.

Washed out dirt roads. Church preachers with crooked grins. Militias. A man who initially welcomed me with open arms... till he found out who I was working for. After being chased off his lawn my partner scribbled “uncooperative” in his report. We would learn to whistle when we approached a house/trailer. If something larger than a lapdog appeared we'd get right back in our car and drive off. We learned that staying off the properties that had “No Trespassing” or “Posted” signs was less about being courteous and more about not getting shot.

This was my test. A dose of reality for a recent idealistic college graduate who was desperate for work. At that time a few weeks doing contract relief work seemed better than serving BBQ to yuppie soccer moms and white collar execs who stiffed you on tips.

As I sat in thick Northern Virginia traffic today I cursed the world and pitied myself. And then I remembered relief work. HA!

Sunday, February 10, 2008


We don't get second chances too often. We make our choices, and we live with the consequences. When McCain first entered the primary race, I viewed it as a second chance-America's second chance to pick the candidate that they should have picked before the 2000 election. Instead some Republicans believed W's “compassionate conservative” bullshit and we got stuck with a war mongering, spend happy president.

At some point, myself and the rest of the potential voters got tired of the image that McCain was presenting. An anti-establishment candidate, who suddenly was not. A moderate who was cozying up to ultra-rightist. At the time, there seemed like better candidates out there. At the time, we believed he was done for.

The roller coaster ride that has been this year's primary season has proven us all wrong. McCain continues to cozy up to ultra-conservatives, and the far right continues to not believe him. As they should-McCain has consistently shown with his voting record that he actually stands for a responsible, moderate range of positions.

He supports a sensible border policy that focuses on border security and internal policies that realize economic necessities and the simple fact that it's impossible to expel every illegal immigrant from the country.

He supports tough foreign policy, yet fights against the barbaric use of torture as a “weapon.”

The McCain-Feingold act while not perfect, is the right step in fighting the excesses of K street. Believe me, I've seen the ugly head of lobbyist influence on American politics, and anything that can be done to curb their influence is a good thing. I know some honest Republicans who actually, seriously believe that it's a 1st amendment violation, but the majority dislike it because they feel that it hurts the Republicans ability to fund raise. When did the duty to fill the money chest override the duty to do the right thing?

McCain would try to have you believe now that he's a conservative candidate. He's not, and his voting record says otherwise. We have an opportunity to elect a candidate who's as two faced as any other politician, but in this current age where destructive policies enacted by W and his brood are damaging our image and interests worldwide, we have to suck it up and vote for the candidate who's actually going to enact responsible policies, current political rhetoric be damned.

I'm too jaded a political junky to call this a full on endorsement. As Obama supporters will find out soon enough, there's no knight in shining armor candidate. “Perfect candidate” is an oxymoron-I choose to look at this as a second (imperfect) chance.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

I'm OK.

The most recent posts have been a bit depressing. The post count has diminished some. Well, maybe a lot. However, I just want to let the small percentage of the population that checks this blog for info on me know that I'm ok. Really, I'm doing pretty damn well.

I'll admit, this isn't the direction I thought I'd be taking this blog. I started this off wanting to make every post a humorous reflection of my life. At the time I wasn't getting the most enjoyment out of the place that I was spending 8 hours a day. If I had to be serious there, and if I had to hold it in, I was sure going to let it out when I started writing.

I need to reevaluate the direction I take this blog. I've considered quiting, but I know that as soon as I hang up the blogging cleats the urge to get back in the game will reassert itself. Introspection and melancholy are ok, but I don't necessarily think I want to continue writing about those things.

Thanks for hanging in there. I'm sure we'll speak again. Adios, and goodnight.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

I lie to myself by sucking in my gut

Dark days seemed ahead at work. Bad news. Hit you in the gut sort of news. Myself and a co-worker headed to the bar to cope. We sat down and began drinking our beers. After finishing off one round, she decided to go home. Before she left, she asked if I would be ok. I looked at her and smiled. I had no intentions of drinking away my sorrows. No, I told her, I would drown my sorrows in warm nacho cheese. Food, not drink was my comfort. Sure enough I headed to that nationwide taco joint that is synonymous with clogged arteries and frequent trips to the toilet. I ignored the pain in my stomach, the food was comforting, that was all that mattered. I felt guilty, but relieved at the same time.

And this process would repeat itself. It had happened before. It would happen again. Because this is how I cope. And eventually I told myself, that one day I would grow tired of repeating that process.

That day is today.