For the most part I laugh at the pathetic attempts that Northern Virginia makes at having an actual winter, but I have to admit that the wind was surprisingly cold as I walked across the street to Safeway earlier today.
The bitter chill was worsened by the realization, as I walked into the store, that I had intended to get gas, and so should have driven over rather than walking.
Ah well.
So another week is coming to another pointless end.
Tomorrow, like every Friday, I’ll be up long before the sun and preparing to cram a full work week into three days.
And today I find myself once again feeling as though I’ve just gotten through wasting four days.
Granted, one of those wasted days (Tuesday) wasn’t wasted entirely by choice, but if I hadn’t had the meeting to go to I’m reasonably certain that I still would have wasted it anyway.
I’m not certain what it is I think I should be doing with my time instead of wasting it, though.
I once toyed with the notion of getting a part-time job, and even went in for an interview, but it didn’t pan out. Shortly after that I started working a lot of overtime anyway, and realized that, even on what have become extremely rare occasions working OT brings in more money than a part-time job would be likely to anyway.
Brian has taken to performing “mystery shops” to fill his time and supplement his income. Mystery Shopping seems to be increasing in popularity lately, as it’s frequently in the lists of “Top 10” Web searches, and I’ve seen banner ads for different Mystery Shopping services.
The notion doesn’t really appeal to me, though, and it would probably cost me more in gas to drive around to the various stores than I what I would actually make.
Honestly, what I really think I should be doing with my time is writing and drawing to a greater extent, and with greater success.
I think it’s really only habit that’s telling me that, though, as I gave up any hopes of being a professional artist long, long ago, and becoming a successful writer hasn’t even really been a dream of mine for ten years.
I still draw because I enjoy doing it to a certain extent, but writing…well, obviously, given how long the average Threshold entry is, I still enjoy that as well, but much like initiating a conversation with an attractive married/engaged woman, I can’t see much point in it.
The rejection slip I got last week was the first one I’d gotten in nearly ten years. Not because I had been successfully getting published for nearly a decade, but because I hadn’t submitted a story in that long.
Perhaps worse than that was the fact that I hadn’t written anything in that time that I felt was worth submitting. For much of the past ten years I have been doing very little in the way of writing. From 1995 to 2002 I wrote a total of zero complete stories.
The first complete story I wrote in 2002 was mostly an exercise, and I had (and still have) no plans to submit it for publication. Following that, I had what was, for me, a prolific period in which I wrote two complete and fairly lengthy short stories.
I then began writing a story that was threatening to become my first novel, but before I could complete it I got this job, and my life, and creative flow, was disrupted by moving across the country.
So by the time I got back to the story I couldn’t remember what was supposed to happen next.
I still don’t remember, and have been unable to find a next step for it.
As for the other two completed stories, they both need extensive editing, which is my least favorite task, and when I don’t like doing something I just won’t do it unless I absolutely have to do it.
So naturally the editing hasn’t been done.
At one point not too terribly long ago I hit on an idea for an online comic book, one that, ideally, could be presented in a simple enough artistic style that I could pull off the artwork myself. My artistic ability proved not to be up to the task, and so an interesting character and premise have been lying fallow since that time.
And of course there is what could be considered my life’s work, a series of books that I first conceived of back in 1986, and which I have been mulling over and refining in my head since then. I’ve written a few chapters here and there along with some character notes and timelines, but really, the books only exist in my head.
Many of the characters will make appearances here from time to time in the form of pictures. My most recent picture was of a character from this series, in fact.
But as mentioned, despite the half-hearted attempts I’ve made at writing the stories, it seems that they are stories that are destined to go untold.
It seems so unfair, though, particularly since I know these characters so well, and love them almost as if they were my own children (which, essentially, they are), and yet even with all of the time I have on my hands, I simply don’t write these stories.
But I don’t write the stories, even though I recognize that in not telling their stories I’m the one who’s being unfair to these characters and their fictional lives.
So why? Why don’t I write these stories? It’s not because I don’t care about the characters. Is it because I’m lazy? Sure, but that’s not the only reason.
Years ago when I worked for a private college back home in Michigan I largely made my living by writing. I wrote press releases, articles for external and internal publications. I even some policy manuals. Much of what I wrote ended up in print in local, regional, national, and even international publications, and I have to admit that it was immensely satisfying to see my words in print, but there was still something lacking, as what I was writing wasn’t really mine. I was pimping some new program at the college, stroking the egos of major donors, and just generally working for someone else’s advancement.
At the same time I was drifting away from writing my own work, generally finding myself creatively exhausted by the time I got home (and the fact that I was usually drunk shortly after getting home didn’t help matters any either), finding that the last thing I wanted to do after sitting at a computer writing all day was to sit at the computer and write some more for the rest of the evening.
But there was something else at play besides my creative exhaustion.
Occasionally as I roamed around the campus talking to different people in search of my next article for the alumni magazine or the donor newsletter I would bump into one of the professors when I’d stop outside a building to get in a quick smoke.
This particular professor taught English, and whenever I saw him he would usually ask me if I was doing any writing outside of work. I would say no, and ask the same of him. He would say no as well, and add, “I start to, but then I think, ‘What’s the point?’ I’ll write something and wonder ‘Who really gives a shit what I have to say?’”
And I think that’s really at the heart of it.
Years ago I read something by George Orwell on the topic of writing in which he put forth the notion that all writers are egoists, that they have a firm belief that their opinions are somehow valuable.
If you lose that belief, then you wonder why you should bother. If your opinions and your ideas, are not valuable, why even put them down on paper (or hard disk, as the case may be) at all? If no one else cares, why should I?
In order to avoid developing that fatalistic attitude you have to harden yourself to rejection, recognize that your work isn’t necessarily judged on its own merits, but rather on whether or not your name caries any cachet, or ay other number of variables.
That is not, however, easy to do. After all of these years you would think that I’d be accustomed to rejection, but the fact of the matter is that each one hurts just as much as the first, and I honestly can’t help but take it personally.
It’s a shitty feeling, and to be perfectly honest it’s much easier to just not try at all. Sure, if you never try you’ll never succeed, and you’ve essentially already failed, but it’s a failure that stings a lot less.
And before you try pointing it out, yes, I do realize that this attitude spills over into other areas of my life...
But I need to point out that the barrier presented by this attitude is not entirely insurmountable. After all, even though it took me a while, I did actually put a story out there for its inevitable rejection.
It is an obstacle, though, and it causes a lot of wasted days to pass before I get around to making another pass at it, and the fear of failure tends to be a much greater motivator (or the negative equivalent of a motivator, at any rate) than the hope of success. So it’s a struggle.
Anyway, that’s enough about that for now. I just wanted to kind of address last week’s rejection and sort of give you my take on it.
So yeah, if you were wondering, the rejection hurt and it was something of a setback to the continued pursuit of my on-again off-again dream of a successful career as a writer.
But more than that, it pissed me off, which is yet another motivator, so at some point I might build up enough anger to try to prove that the editor who rejected the story was a total fucktard who wouldn’t know a good story if it followed him home, waited behind the bushes, jumped him when he was bringing the trash out and kicked the crap out of him, forcing him to be hospitalized and costing him several teeth, the use of his left hand, and years of painful, and ultimately unsuccessful, physical therapy.
And, you know, that’s just a colorful metaphor and in no way outlines the salient points of the multi-part revenge scheme I came up with after getting the rejection slip…
Apart from the cold walk to and from Safeway, today has been largely uneventful.
For my usual Thursday early dinner I made some sort of chicken recipe I found on a box of rice. It wasn’t anything too complicated, just chicken breasts coated with garlic and herbs and simmered with diced tomatoes and served over rice.
It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t especially exciting.
Today I did one of my semi-regular checks on an old e-mal account that I don't use much anymore and found that I had a message from Jenny, a girl I used to work with back in Tucson. It was something of a mass mail that she'd sent out letting people know that she's put up her own Web site.
Jenny was a lot of fun to work with (and even more fun to take to the strip club and buy lap dances for), so it was nice to hear from her after all this time, even if it wasn't exactly a personal message.
Since she sent me the link, I figured I'd give her site a plug. Check it out here.
In any case, that’s probably going to wrap things up for today, and, consequently, for the week. See you all on Monday.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
New Mug Shot
Eagle-eyed Threshold readers may notice that there's a new picture of me over to the right.
I decided that it was time I put a new picture in place, one in which my eyes, such as they are, aren't hidden behind sunglasses.
For most of my life my eyes have been a point of self-consciousness. I was born severely cross-eyed, and while I had surgery to correct the actual cause when I was very young, I never really properly learned to use my left eye (the one that crossed), so unless I'm really consciously focusing on keeping it in place, my eye has a tendency to drift.
A lot of times what will happen is that I'm so focused on using my left eye that my right eye will end up drifting, so frequently it's a lose-lose situation.
Over the years I've tried various exercises, with varying degrees of success, to try to balance my eyes out, but even if they were to miraculously start working the way they're supposed to, after this many years I'd still be at least a little self-conscious about them.
In any case, there's now a new picture of me available.
I'll be back later with a more typical end-of-the-week wrap-up.
I decided that it was time I put a new picture in place, one in which my eyes, such as they are, aren't hidden behind sunglasses.
For most of my life my eyes have been a point of self-consciousness. I was born severely cross-eyed, and while I had surgery to correct the actual cause when I was very young, I never really properly learned to use my left eye (the one that crossed), so unless I'm really consciously focusing on keeping it in place, my eye has a tendency to drift.
A lot of times what will happen is that I'm so focused on using my left eye that my right eye will end up drifting, so frequently it's a lose-lose situation.
Over the years I've tried various exercises, with varying degrees of success, to try to balance my eyes out, but even if they were to miraculously start working the way they're supposed to, after this many years I'd still be at least a little self-conscious about them.
In any case, there's now a new picture of me available.
I'll be back later with a more typical end-of-the-week wrap-up.
It's Funny Because She Doesn't Know What "Ignorant" Means
I was watching “Blind Date” earlier, and one of the daters was the stereotypical “dumb blonde.” It’s odd that blondes get stuck with that label, since most blondes aren’t really blondes anyway. Maybe peroxide just has a degenerative effect on cognitive functions.
Whether her sub-normal intelligence was natural (clearly her hair color wasn’t) or not, though, this woman was definitely dumb.
I was, quite frankly, a little astonished by just how dumb she was, and it seemed pretty clear that it wasn’t an act.
What I found especially funny was that in her little bio she stated that she doesn’t like “ignorant guys.” There was a certain inescapable irony to that statement…
On a later episode a born-again Christian woman was one of the daters, though I had to wonder why.
She had no interest whatsoever in her date, though that really didn’t seem to have much to do with him, as apparently the only man she’d have any interest in dating would be J.C. Himself (and no, I’m not talking about Jack Chick).
That wouldn’t work out very well for her either, though, since the very thought would be blasphemous.
The point is that this woman had zero interest in dating, and she explicitly stated that even before she began her date.
So the obvious question is, “Why would you appear on a show that has the word ‘date’ in the title if you’re not interested in dating?”
Quite frequently daters on the show say much the same thing, though their reasoning is usually much different from the born-again Christian's.
Mostly they’re people who aren’t interested in relationships and are just looking to “hook up” with someone.
It seems to me that a bar is an easier place to do that. After all, there are fewer people watching.
I guess for some the motivation is to be on TV, maybe in the hopes of being discovered or something, but honestly, when was the last time that a movie star got his or her big break on a dating show? Of course, maybe it's less mercenary than that, appealing to an exhibitionist tendency.
Still, for the born-again, neither explanation would seem likely to be her motivation. Maybe she was hoping for a public forum to express her religious views.
But whatever the case, this sort of thing is a trend on other shows besides “Blind Date.” For example, there are the homeowners who appear on shows like “Trading Spaces,” but who have all of these restrictions on what they do and don’t want done.
It seems silly to me to appear on a show in which the central premise is that you have no control over what’s done to your room if you’re not willing to just go along with whatever happens. If you want your room done over in a particular way, either pony up the cash to have someone do it for you, or do it yourself. DO NOT appear on a television show where there’s a chance that some crazy designer will put cardboard, hay, plastic flowers, moss, or some other bizarre accoutrement on your walls if that sort of thing is going to be traumatic to you.
I guess what it all really boils down to, though, is that people, blonde or otherwise, are stupid.
That seems to be at the heart of pretty much everything, and most of the world’s problems stem from our (Yes, I do include myself in this; how could I look on my life and not?) inherent stupidity.
Anyway, I just wanted to throw out a quick entry. Nothing more profound to say than “people are stupid.”
Good night, stupid.
Whether her sub-normal intelligence was natural (clearly her hair color wasn’t) or not, though, this woman was definitely dumb.
I was, quite frankly, a little astonished by just how dumb she was, and it seemed pretty clear that it wasn’t an act.
What I found especially funny was that in her little bio she stated that she doesn’t like “ignorant guys.” There was a certain inescapable irony to that statement…
On a later episode a born-again Christian woman was one of the daters, though I had to wonder why.
She had no interest whatsoever in her date, though that really didn’t seem to have much to do with him, as apparently the only man she’d have any interest in dating would be J.C. Himself (and no, I’m not talking about Jack Chick).
That wouldn’t work out very well for her either, though, since the very thought would be blasphemous.
The point is that this woman had zero interest in dating, and she explicitly stated that even before she began her date.
So the obvious question is, “Why would you appear on a show that has the word ‘date’ in the title if you’re not interested in dating?”
Quite frequently daters on the show say much the same thing, though their reasoning is usually much different from the born-again Christian's.
Mostly they’re people who aren’t interested in relationships and are just looking to “hook up” with someone.
It seems to me that a bar is an easier place to do that. After all, there are fewer people watching.
I guess for some the motivation is to be on TV, maybe in the hopes of being discovered or something, but honestly, when was the last time that a movie star got his or her big break on a dating show? Of course, maybe it's less mercenary than that, appealing to an exhibitionist tendency.
Still, for the born-again, neither explanation would seem likely to be her motivation. Maybe she was hoping for a public forum to express her religious views.
But whatever the case, this sort of thing is a trend on other shows besides “Blind Date.” For example, there are the homeowners who appear on shows like “Trading Spaces,” but who have all of these restrictions on what they do and don’t want done.
It seems silly to me to appear on a show in which the central premise is that you have no control over what’s done to your room if you’re not willing to just go along with whatever happens. If you want your room done over in a particular way, either pony up the cash to have someone do it for you, or do it yourself. DO NOT appear on a television show where there’s a chance that some crazy designer will put cardboard, hay, plastic flowers, moss, or some other bizarre accoutrement on your walls if that sort of thing is going to be traumatic to you.
I guess what it all really boils down to, though, is that people, blonde or otherwise, are stupid.
That seems to be at the heart of pretty much everything, and most of the world’s problems stem from our (Yes, I do include myself in this; how could I look on my life and not?) inherent stupidity.
Anyway, I just wanted to throw out a quick entry. Nothing more profound to say than “people are stupid.”
Good night, stupid.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Meh
This picture didn't turn out as well as I would have liked, but then again they almost never do.
I may tweak it a little and see if I can get it closer to what I wanted, but I thought I'd at least post this. I really like the face, and her left shoe, but beyond that...well, like I said, it just didn't turn out as well as I would have liked.
A Month Away
Yesterday I neglected to mention that we were at the one month point for the release of Sin City.
As I’ve mentioned many times on Threshold, this movie is the major thing in my life that I have to look forward to.
I’m even going so far as taking the day off on April 1st so that I can see it right away. It’s my intention to get up and go to the earliest showing…then possibly see it again.
As should be apparent, it’s unusual for me to get that excited about anything.
Undoubtedly I’m setting myself up for disappointment (which is probably one of the reasons I so seldom get excited about things), but I really, really love the books, and the fact that the movie is directed by someone else who really, really loves the books, with the assistance of the creator of the books, makes me think that it’s going to be an amazing, especially since everything I’ve seen so far really has been amazing.
Anyway, I just thought I should point out how close the release date is getting.
In addition to being the release date for Sin City and the international prankster’s holiday known as April Fools Day, April 1st is also my sister Kim’s birthday, and marks the start of a rash of birthdays in my family, with my dad’s on the 3rd, mine on the 13th, and my brother Brad’s on the 15th.
At the end of May I’ll be heading home to Michigan for my niece Jourdan’s graduation. It’ll be the first time in almost 6 years that my whole family will be getting together.
It’ll be the full family, too, as my brother-in-law Dean found out that he’ll be able to get leave to be home for the graduation.
Like I usually am at such events, I was amazed at yesterday’s meeting by the number of attractive women who work in my department. Of course, outside of these meetings, I have no reason or opportunity to see them, so it’s always sort of surprise to discover that they exist at all.
The fact that there are attractive women in my department doesn’t mean much to me, since, as I said, I seldom even see them, most of them are married or at least seriously dating someone, and, of course, I’m Jon.
It’s probably significant that two of the most attractive women in the department actually work as assistants to our VP. Still, there’s no real “hmm…” there, as they had been in those jobs or similar ones at least) under our former VP, who was a woman.
Throughout the meeting the two of them were buzzing around the place making sure that everything was proceeding smoothly.
At various points as people were speaking I was wishing that we had something in place like the Oscars, with music that would start playing to let the speakers know that they needed to wrap it up. Thanks to one of the very pretty, but very forceful, administrative assistants, the last speaker of the day did get something like that, as she walked over to the light switch and flashed the lights to let him know that he needed to shut the hell up.
At one point she was even shooting daggers at our VP to get him to wrap things up.
So clearly that's one assistant you don't mess around with (though you'd like to, since she's extremely hot).
On the topic of attractive women in my department, there’s one I find especially attractive (though nobody else seems to think she’s as hot as I do), whom I see occasionally in the hallways, and whom I was looking forward to seeing at this year’s meeting, as I recall her looking especially good last year.
Looking is, of course, all I can do, as she is married, and was, in fact, married the very first time I ever saw her. Still, in my estimation she is well worth looking at.
I spotted her this year and noticed right away that she seemed to be wearing a maternity top. So apparently my ability to have my interest serve as a catalyst for marriage/procreation has struck once again.
Speaking of which, over the past weekend I overheard confirmation that “Flame Chick” is, in fact, engaged.
In addition to that life-changing event, apparently her schedule has also changed, as she was in on Friday and Saturday, and came in much earlier than usual.
On Friday I happened to walk into the break room when she was in there and semi-successfully to engage her in conversation.
Saturday I found myself presented with a similar opportunity, but declined to take it. After all, there really wouldn’t be any point. Even if she weren’t engaged, she is a rabid sports fan, which would likely make a relationship impossible.
So as I was searching my mind for something to say, I thought, “What’s the point?” Unable to think of an answer, I merely filled my cup with water and went quietly on my way.
Honestly, I couldn’t think of a reason to bother trying to talk to her. For the sake of small talk and filling the emptiness of an awkward silence? Meh, I have no problem with awkward silences, and feel no need to fill any empty spaces with small talk.
In the interest of fostering friendly relations? As I’ve mentioned many times, I have very little interaction with her, so that’s not really an issue.
Honestly, the only reason I can think of to attempt to engage her in conversation is to pursue a possible romance, and as we’ve established, that’s not a possibility.
So again, what’s the point?
In the past I’ve been taken to task for this attitude. The seeming implication is that I perceive women as having no value outside of a romantic (sexual) relationship.
I can see how someone could think that, but I don’t think that it’s true. After all, it has been exclusively female, non-romantic friends who have expressed this idea.
I think it’s clear that I have no problem whatsoever with being friends with women, and valuing them as friends.
However, I am single (and straight), and have been single for a long time, so it only makes sense, especially when it comes to a woman I find physically attractive, that my primary interest would be in pursuing a romantic relationship, and not just a friendship.
Does that mean I’m opposed to having friendly, non-romantic relationships with women? Of course not.
However, in general, I’m not particularly interested in actively pursuing new friendships with anyone. That’s just the way I am. So yeah, if I don’t see a potential for romance with a woman, I’m unlikely to pursue any kind of relationship.
Besides, it’d probably be good for me to be a little misogynistic anyway, since chicks like assholes.
Okay, so I only meant that semi-jokingly, but in all honesty it’s long been my belief that the biggest obstacle preventing me from successfully establishing a relationship with a woman, apart from the fact that I so seldom encounter women who are available, is the fact that I do genuinely like and respect women.
So far as I can tell, they absolutely hate that.
At least when it comes to a potential mate.
It does, however, serve me well in the role of “guy friend.”
But whatever. I don’t feel like getting bogged down in all of that today.
Not much that’s new or exciting is going on today. I’m making a casserole that consists of round steak, cream celery and cream of chicken soup, and dry onion soup mix. I figure on accompanying it with some kind of rice and vegetable.
Beyond that, tonight is my big TV night, when I find myself glued to the set for three hours from 8 to 11.
Looking at my finances it’s clear that, as I usually do, I’ve spent a little more money that I thought I had. It’s not really a problem, though, as it just means that I won’t be able to bolster my savings quite as much as I thought I would.
But I do have more money (with more to come) in my savings than I have in a long time, and with the raise and some decreases to my bills, I should be able to sustain some growth with that account.
As I fail to buy some of the things that I want that I can actually afford, though, I can’t help but wonder what it is I’m saving the money for. After all, with the insane cost of housing in this area, it’s clear that, on my own, I’ll never be able to own property here. In all of Loudoun County (which is where I live) there is not one piece of property on the market for under $200,000, and the average cost is expected to increase by 20% this year, with no indication of the increase stopping anytime soon.
Housing costs in surrounding counties aren’t much different.
So unless by some miracle I meet and marry a woman who makes at least as much as I do, I’m going to continue living the life of the renter for a long time to come.
In any case, I should try to find something to do with what remaining non-TV time I have. I may return after I’ve finished the whole couch potato thing.
As I’ve mentioned many times on Threshold, this movie is the major thing in my life that I have to look forward to.
I’m even going so far as taking the day off on April 1st so that I can see it right away. It’s my intention to get up and go to the earliest showing…then possibly see it again.
As should be apparent, it’s unusual for me to get that excited about anything.
Undoubtedly I’m setting myself up for disappointment (which is probably one of the reasons I so seldom get excited about things), but I really, really love the books, and the fact that the movie is directed by someone else who really, really loves the books, with the assistance of the creator of the books, makes me think that it’s going to be an amazing, especially since everything I’ve seen so far really has been amazing.
Anyway, I just thought I should point out how close the release date is getting.
In addition to being the release date for Sin City and the international prankster’s holiday known as April Fools Day, April 1st is also my sister Kim’s birthday, and marks the start of a rash of birthdays in my family, with my dad’s on the 3rd, mine on the 13th, and my brother Brad’s on the 15th.
At the end of May I’ll be heading home to Michigan for my niece Jourdan’s graduation. It’ll be the first time in almost 6 years that my whole family will be getting together.
It’ll be the full family, too, as my brother-in-law Dean found out that he’ll be able to get leave to be home for the graduation.
Like I usually am at such events, I was amazed at yesterday’s meeting by the number of attractive women who work in my department. Of course, outside of these meetings, I have no reason or opportunity to see them, so it’s always sort of surprise to discover that they exist at all.
The fact that there are attractive women in my department doesn’t mean much to me, since, as I said, I seldom even see them, most of them are married or at least seriously dating someone, and, of course, I’m Jon.
It’s probably significant that two of the most attractive women in the department actually work as assistants to our VP. Still, there’s no real “hmm…” there, as they had been in those jobs or similar ones at least) under our former VP, who was a woman.
Throughout the meeting the two of them were buzzing around the place making sure that everything was proceeding smoothly.
At various points as people were speaking I was wishing that we had something in place like the Oscars, with music that would start playing to let the speakers know that they needed to wrap it up. Thanks to one of the very pretty, but very forceful, administrative assistants, the last speaker of the day did get something like that, as she walked over to the light switch and flashed the lights to let him know that he needed to shut the hell up.
At one point she was even shooting daggers at our VP to get him to wrap things up.
So clearly that's one assistant you don't mess around with (though you'd like to, since she's extremely hot).
On the topic of attractive women in my department, there’s one I find especially attractive (though nobody else seems to think she’s as hot as I do), whom I see occasionally in the hallways, and whom I was looking forward to seeing at this year’s meeting, as I recall her looking especially good last year.
Looking is, of course, all I can do, as she is married, and was, in fact, married the very first time I ever saw her. Still, in my estimation she is well worth looking at.
I spotted her this year and noticed right away that she seemed to be wearing a maternity top. So apparently my ability to have my interest serve as a catalyst for marriage/procreation has struck once again.
Speaking of which, over the past weekend I overheard confirmation that “Flame Chick” is, in fact, engaged.
In addition to that life-changing event, apparently her schedule has also changed, as she was in on Friday and Saturday, and came in much earlier than usual.
On Friday I happened to walk into the break room when she was in there and semi-successfully to engage her in conversation.
Saturday I found myself presented with a similar opportunity, but declined to take it. After all, there really wouldn’t be any point. Even if she weren’t engaged, she is a rabid sports fan, which would likely make a relationship impossible.
So as I was searching my mind for something to say, I thought, “What’s the point?” Unable to think of an answer, I merely filled my cup with water and went quietly on my way.
Honestly, I couldn’t think of a reason to bother trying to talk to her. For the sake of small talk and filling the emptiness of an awkward silence? Meh, I have no problem with awkward silences, and feel no need to fill any empty spaces with small talk.
In the interest of fostering friendly relations? As I’ve mentioned many times, I have very little interaction with her, so that’s not really an issue.
Honestly, the only reason I can think of to attempt to engage her in conversation is to pursue a possible romance, and as we’ve established, that’s not a possibility.
So again, what’s the point?
In the past I’ve been taken to task for this attitude. The seeming implication is that I perceive women as having no value outside of a romantic (sexual) relationship.
I can see how someone could think that, but I don’t think that it’s true. After all, it has been exclusively female, non-romantic friends who have expressed this idea.
I think it’s clear that I have no problem whatsoever with being friends with women, and valuing them as friends.
However, I am single (and straight), and have been single for a long time, so it only makes sense, especially when it comes to a woman I find physically attractive, that my primary interest would be in pursuing a romantic relationship, and not just a friendship.
Does that mean I’m opposed to having friendly, non-romantic relationships with women? Of course not.
However, in general, I’m not particularly interested in actively pursuing new friendships with anyone. That’s just the way I am. So yeah, if I don’t see a potential for romance with a woman, I’m unlikely to pursue any kind of relationship.
Besides, it’d probably be good for me to be a little misogynistic anyway, since chicks like assholes.
Okay, so I only meant that semi-jokingly, but in all honesty it’s long been my belief that the biggest obstacle preventing me from successfully establishing a relationship with a woman, apart from the fact that I so seldom encounter women who are available, is the fact that I do genuinely like and respect women.
So far as I can tell, they absolutely hate that.
At least when it comes to a potential mate.
It does, however, serve me well in the role of “guy friend.”
But whatever. I don’t feel like getting bogged down in all of that today.
Not much that’s new or exciting is going on today. I’m making a casserole that consists of round steak, cream celery and cream of chicken soup, and dry onion soup mix. I figure on accompanying it with some kind of rice and vegetable.
Beyond that, tonight is my big TV night, when I find myself glued to the set for three hours from 8 to 11.
Looking at my finances it’s clear that, as I usually do, I’ve spent a little more money that I thought I had. It’s not really a problem, though, as it just means that I won’t be able to bolster my savings quite as much as I thought I would.
But I do have more money (with more to come) in my savings than I have in a long time, and with the raise and some decreases to my bills, I should be able to sustain some growth with that account.
As I fail to buy some of the things that I want that I can actually afford, though, I can’t help but wonder what it is I’m saving the money for. After all, with the insane cost of housing in this area, it’s clear that, on my own, I’ll never be able to own property here. In all of Loudoun County (which is where I live) there is not one piece of property on the market for under $200,000, and the average cost is expected to increase by 20% this year, with no indication of the increase stopping anytime soon.
Housing costs in surrounding counties aren’t much different.
So unless by some miracle I meet and marry a woman who makes at least as much as I do, I’m going to continue living the life of the renter for a long time to come.
In any case, I should try to find something to do with what remaining non-TV time I have. I may return after I’ve finished the whole couch potato thing.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Why Does It Try So Hard When It Takes So Little?
Most days just come and go without distinction.
Other days, however, seem to have a real purpose, demonstrating something akin to focus in their pursuit of their goal.
Today was the second kind of day.
The day’s purpose? To piss me off.
It actually began working toward that goal even before I woke up, as in the moments before I realized that the music I was hearing was actually my alarm going off, I’d been dreaming that I’d woken up in the middle of the night and had just gotten back into bed.
So waking up after having just convinced myself that I had hours to go before I needed to get up was a lousy way to start the day.
Things really got going, though, once I got on the road to head to the all day meeting.
There are a lot of stoplights between where I live and where the meeting was, and I was stopped at each and every one of them.
That would have been bad enough, but what made it more irritating was that most of the time they were green when I was stopped, simply because people just don’t seem to be able to comprehend the fact that they can actually proceed when the light is green.
I’m sure the fact that it had snowed yesterday, even though today the roads were all clear and it was mostly sunny out, added to the slowdown, though I’m not entirely sure why that would be.
But eventually I made it to the conference center where the meeting was being held and the real fun began.
And when I say fun I mean hours and hours of sitting in an uncomfortable chair trying to stay awake while I listened to incredibly boring presentations.
The “team-building” exercise consisted of having to pick a number and walk over to the table with the corresponding number. Once there, each team had to paint on a canvas. The individual canvases were part of a larger mosaic issue, and the point was to coordinated with the teams working on the connecting canvases to ensure that the big picture turned out right.
I don’t know how the big picture turned out, as they were likely unveiling it during the post-meeting reception, which I didn’t stay for.
The group I ended up working with consisted entirely of people who actually worked with each other, so, as usual, I was the odd man out. I simply picked a portion of the canvas to work on, painted in silence, then left as soon as we were done.
So much for teamwork.
The rest of the day consisted of more presentations, some of which had a few interesting and entertaining moments, but were boring for the most part.
At one point some guy, an employee, got up and did a ventriloquist act, an act which garnered a few laughs, but for the most part was sort of embarrassing.
Most of the laughs actually came from our VP, who was a good sport and got up on stage to help out with the act.
Throughout the course of the day I developed a headache, which only got worse when I left.
I’ve been to this particular conference center several times before for other meetings and one of our holiday parties, but when I was leaving I inadvertently took a different exit from the one I usually do and somehow got a bit lost.
It took me a while to get back to familiar territory, but even after that it was slow going because it was now the middle of rush hour, which made my head throb all the more.
During my drive I was trying to switch lanes, but I wanted to get ahead of a particular car before doing so. The car in front of me kept speeding up, making me think that I could accomplish my goal, but just as soon as there was almost enough space for me to squeeze ahead of the other car the car in front of me would slow down. This went on for several minutes, until finally the car ahead of me suddenly slammed on the brakes, forcing me to swerve into the other lane behind the car I wanted to get in front of in order to avoid an accident. Once I was in the other lane the car that had formerly been ahead of me sped up to match my speed in order to prevent me from pulling back into the lane ahead of him.
Eventually he floored it and crossed into the lane ahead of the car in front of me, essentially stealing the spot I wanted.
There’s no other explanation for his behavior other than that he was simply fucking with me and trying to piss me off.
And let me say that he succeeded in that goal.
Eventually, even behind the car that I hadn’t wanted to be behind, I got to a point where traffic was moving along pretty briskly.
However, as frequently happens, we hit something of a lull, forcing us all to slow down a bit. Even after things started speeding back up, though, I found that the person I was behind was the kind who, once he looses momentum, is never able to regain it. So even though there was nothing really stopping him from doing so, he never really sped back up.
And of course I was trapped behind him as the much more rapidly moving traffic whizzed continually past on either side.
All I really wanted to do at this point was just go home, but I was actually on my way to the cooking class.
Even with the various delays I arrived at the high school where the class is held a couple of minutes early. I was a little concerned about the fact that there were no cars in the parking lot, and that the entire campus gave the impression of a ghost town. I approached the doors, but there were no lights on inside, and a quick, pointless test of the doors informed me that they were locked.
So apparently once again the fact that it snowed yesterday caused issues today, even though the roads, as mentioned, were all perfectly clear, and all evening classes were canceled.
Even though I really wanted to go home, I was still a little annoyed by the fact that the class was canceled. I can’t see any legitimate reason for doing so. Even at its worst, yesterday’s “storm” wasn’t all that bad, and a good portion of the snow it left behind had already melted today.
So I called Kathleen, who had called me on her way home from the airport to let me know that she’d probably be late for class, to let her know that she didn’t even need to show up at all. I was glad that my timing was such that she hadn’t left the house yet.
And that, in a nutshell, was my day.
As mentioned, the day seemed to have a purpose, and I will say that it accomplished that purpose quite skillfully. There was really no one thing that I had to contend with, but instead there were countless small things that had a cumulative effect much greater than one one majore hassle could ever have.
So, despite it all, I can’t help but feel a little admiration for such a well-organized effort at pissing me off.
Still, the fact of the matter is that over the years my patience and my tolerance for annoyances have been pretty well eroded away, so I can’t help but wonder why God/The Universe/Whatever works so hard to piss me off when it really doesn’t take much.
Ah well. At least I’m home now, and for this pay period I’ll have a big fat check filled to overflowing with overtime.
Well, filled to overflowing with overtime before the various taxes gut it.
In any case, that will about do it for this entry. I may or may not be back with an additional entry later, but I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting if I were you.
Other days, however, seem to have a real purpose, demonstrating something akin to focus in their pursuit of their goal.
Today was the second kind of day.
The day’s purpose? To piss me off.
It actually began working toward that goal even before I woke up, as in the moments before I realized that the music I was hearing was actually my alarm going off, I’d been dreaming that I’d woken up in the middle of the night and had just gotten back into bed.
So waking up after having just convinced myself that I had hours to go before I needed to get up was a lousy way to start the day.
Things really got going, though, once I got on the road to head to the all day meeting.
There are a lot of stoplights between where I live and where the meeting was, and I was stopped at each and every one of them.
That would have been bad enough, but what made it more irritating was that most of the time they were green when I was stopped, simply because people just don’t seem to be able to comprehend the fact that they can actually proceed when the light is green.
I’m sure the fact that it had snowed yesterday, even though today the roads were all clear and it was mostly sunny out, added to the slowdown, though I’m not entirely sure why that would be.
But eventually I made it to the conference center where the meeting was being held and the real fun began.
And when I say fun I mean hours and hours of sitting in an uncomfortable chair trying to stay awake while I listened to incredibly boring presentations.
The “team-building” exercise consisted of having to pick a number and walk over to the table with the corresponding number. Once there, each team had to paint on a canvas. The individual canvases were part of a larger mosaic issue, and the point was to coordinated with the teams working on the connecting canvases to ensure that the big picture turned out right.
I don’t know how the big picture turned out, as they were likely unveiling it during the post-meeting reception, which I didn’t stay for.
The group I ended up working with consisted entirely of people who actually worked with each other, so, as usual, I was the odd man out. I simply picked a portion of the canvas to work on, painted in silence, then left as soon as we were done.
So much for teamwork.
The rest of the day consisted of more presentations, some of which had a few interesting and entertaining moments, but were boring for the most part.
At one point some guy, an employee, got up and did a ventriloquist act, an act which garnered a few laughs, but for the most part was sort of embarrassing.
Most of the laughs actually came from our VP, who was a good sport and got up on stage to help out with the act.
Throughout the course of the day I developed a headache, which only got worse when I left.
I’ve been to this particular conference center several times before for other meetings and one of our holiday parties, but when I was leaving I inadvertently took a different exit from the one I usually do and somehow got a bit lost.
It took me a while to get back to familiar territory, but even after that it was slow going because it was now the middle of rush hour, which made my head throb all the more.
During my drive I was trying to switch lanes, but I wanted to get ahead of a particular car before doing so. The car in front of me kept speeding up, making me think that I could accomplish my goal, but just as soon as there was almost enough space for me to squeeze ahead of the other car the car in front of me would slow down. This went on for several minutes, until finally the car ahead of me suddenly slammed on the brakes, forcing me to swerve into the other lane behind the car I wanted to get in front of in order to avoid an accident. Once I was in the other lane the car that had formerly been ahead of me sped up to match my speed in order to prevent me from pulling back into the lane ahead of him.
Eventually he floored it and crossed into the lane ahead of the car in front of me, essentially stealing the spot I wanted.
There’s no other explanation for his behavior other than that he was simply fucking with me and trying to piss me off.
And let me say that he succeeded in that goal.
Eventually, even behind the car that I hadn’t wanted to be behind, I got to a point where traffic was moving along pretty briskly.
However, as frequently happens, we hit something of a lull, forcing us all to slow down a bit. Even after things started speeding back up, though, I found that the person I was behind was the kind who, once he looses momentum, is never able to regain it. So even though there was nothing really stopping him from doing so, he never really sped back up.
And of course I was trapped behind him as the much more rapidly moving traffic whizzed continually past on either side.
All I really wanted to do at this point was just go home, but I was actually on my way to the cooking class.
Even with the various delays I arrived at the high school where the class is held a couple of minutes early. I was a little concerned about the fact that there were no cars in the parking lot, and that the entire campus gave the impression of a ghost town. I approached the doors, but there were no lights on inside, and a quick, pointless test of the doors informed me that they were locked.
So apparently once again the fact that it snowed yesterday caused issues today, even though the roads, as mentioned, were all perfectly clear, and all evening classes were canceled.
Even though I really wanted to go home, I was still a little annoyed by the fact that the class was canceled. I can’t see any legitimate reason for doing so. Even at its worst, yesterday’s “storm” wasn’t all that bad, and a good portion of the snow it left behind had already melted today.
So I called Kathleen, who had called me on her way home from the airport to let me know that she’d probably be late for class, to let her know that she didn’t even need to show up at all. I was glad that my timing was such that she hadn’t left the house yet.
And that, in a nutshell, was my day.
As mentioned, the day seemed to have a purpose, and I will say that it accomplished that purpose quite skillfully. There was really no one thing that I had to contend with, but instead there were countless small things that had a cumulative effect much greater than one one majore hassle could ever have.
So, despite it all, I can’t help but feel a little admiration for such a well-organized effort at pissing me off.
Still, the fact of the matter is that over the years my patience and my tolerance for annoyances have been pretty well eroded away, so I can’t help but wonder why God/The Universe/Whatever works so hard to piss me off when it really doesn’t take much.
Ah well. At least I’m home now, and for this pay period I’ll have a big fat check filled to overflowing with overtime.
Well, filled to overflowing with overtime before the various taxes gut it.
In any case, that will about do it for this entry. I may or may not be back with an additional entry later, but I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting if I were you.
Monday, February 28, 2005
There's No Jon In Team
Tomorrow I have to go to an all day long meeting (8:30 - 5:30).
I’m not looking forward to it, even though, especially in conjunction with the all day training I’m going to next week, it will mean a lot of overtime on my next check.
The meeting is a department-wide “all hands” meeting, which means that it’ll be full of lots of people I’ve never seen before talking about things that don’t really directly apply to anything that I do.
We had one of these meetings last year and remaining conscious throughout the whole thing was one of the more difficult tasks I’ve been presented with in recent memory.
Of course, as a “team-building” exercise, and to “wake us up” we were forced to participate in pointlessly banging drums, triangles, and various other musical instruments.
It was loud, it was demeaning, it was irritating, and it was exactly the kind of stupid shit that people think is incredibly fun and worthwhile once they achieve a certain management level.
On Saturday our department’s VP stopped in briefly to say “hi” to us grunts working in the trenches, and he mentioned that we would not be repeating last year’s noisy pointlessness, but that there would indeed be some kind of team-building exercise.
As I mentioned earlier, many of the people who will be at the meeting will be people that I’ve never seen before, and will likely never see again, and who, though we work within the same department are not really members of my “team.”
Even if their regular business activities intersect with, or have an impact on, those of myself and my actual team (the people I work with every day), the odds at that, at best, the only contact will have with is a phone conversation that will be kept as brief as possible, since most of them don’t work weekends the way that I and my team do, and so have no desire to actually perform any work on the weekend.
So what is really gained from forcing me to interact with people I’m only likely to interact with again at the next all day long meeting by creating some artificial (and irritating) circumstance that, presumably, will make us a better team when we are not actually a team?
I’m just not much of a believer in the efficacy of team-building exercises anyway, even when they’re being engaged in by people who actually are teammates, but it makes it worse when I know that I won’t be engaging in the exercise with my teammates, and knowing that whatever the exercise is, it’s probably going to be boring and stupid.
I mean, at least if we did paintballing I’d get to shoot people while I’m failing to gain any meaningful teamwork skills.
Hmm….now that I think of it, maybe I’ll just bring a paintball gun with me ayway…
In any event I’m sure the day will suck, but as mentioned I’ll be getting some major overtime, and the food will probably be good. So that's something.
On the topic of things that don’t suck, last night found me watching the second episode of Cartoon Network’s new show Robot Chicken.
The show is part of the network’s “Adult Swim” programming line-up which includes such great shows as Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Harvey Birdman, Attorney At Law, and The Venture Bros.
Robot Chicken is very difficult to describe, but is very ease to laugh at…unless you’re easily offended, and if you’re reading Threshold, you can’t be that easy to offend (or to bore, apparently). Then again, even if you're difficult to offend, Robot Chicken might be able to pull it off.
Essentially it’s a manic sketch-comedy show done in stop-motion using dolls, action figures, and other toys.
The first episode featured my own beloved Rachael Leigh Cook spoofing her own appearance in anti-drug commercial (providing the voice of a doll made in RLC's image).
Among the highlights of last night’s show was a spoof of You Got Served featuring Voltron, and the story of how after he died Walt Disney’s head was attached to a robotic spider body and how the now-undead Disney (voiced by “That 70s Show” dad Kurtwood Smith) found sustenance by eating Cuban boys.
Running the company from behind the scenes, Mecha Spider Disney ordered a theme park be built in Florida so that he could be closer to his food supply. His horrible appetites were tended to and largely restrained for decades…until Elian Gonzalez captured the hearts and minds of the American people, and whetted the appetite of Mr. Disney.
Like I said, it’s not a show for the easily offended.
As an aside, “Buffy” fans can take note of the fact that Seth Green is an Executive Producer.
In any case, the fact is that so far I’ve enjoyed Robot Chicken a great deal and I’m pleased to see that the guys at Adult Swim haven’t totally lost it.
Admittedly, their last hit (as far as I’m concerned), the aforementioned Venture Bros, went out of the park, but since that time they’ve definitely been striking out.
Unfortunately that’s not how they see it. They’ve come up with a few new shows that they seem to believe very strongly in, even though the viewers can’t stand them.
To make matters worse, they’ve been dragging their feet on greenlighting a second season of The Venture Bros, even as they keep pushing unfunny shows like Tom Goes To The Mayor and Super Milk-Chan.
(Warning: I’m about to use a really, really, really gross and offensive metaphor)
As they fail to stand behind quality shows like The Venture Bros while simultaneously pushing the shows like Tom and Milk Chan, it’s almost as if the guys at Williams Street are jerking off into their hands and throwing their jizz straight in the viewers’ faces just to see if they can get away with it, and if we’ll keep coming back for more.
So that makes Robot Chicken that much more satisfying.
Sorry to be so gross, but it just seemed like an apt metaphor.
In any case, I have to get up early in the morning, and since the day will involve a struggle to stay awake I guess that’s it for now. I'm sure I'll have plenty to bitch about here tomorrow.
I’m not looking forward to it, even though, especially in conjunction with the all day training I’m going to next week, it will mean a lot of overtime on my next check.
The meeting is a department-wide “all hands” meeting, which means that it’ll be full of lots of people I’ve never seen before talking about things that don’t really directly apply to anything that I do.
We had one of these meetings last year and remaining conscious throughout the whole thing was one of the more difficult tasks I’ve been presented with in recent memory.
Of course, as a “team-building” exercise, and to “wake us up” we were forced to participate in pointlessly banging drums, triangles, and various other musical instruments.
It was loud, it was demeaning, it was irritating, and it was exactly the kind of stupid shit that people think is incredibly fun and worthwhile once they achieve a certain management level.
On Saturday our department’s VP stopped in briefly to say “hi” to us grunts working in the trenches, and he mentioned that we would not be repeating last year’s noisy pointlessness, but that there would indeed be some kind of team-building exercise.
As I mentioned earlier, many of the people who will be at the meeting will be people that I’ve never seen before, and will likely never see again, and who, though we work within the same department are not really members of my “team.”
Even if their regular business activities intersect with, or have an impact on, those of myself and my actual team (the people I work with every day), the odds at that, at best, the only contact will have with is a phone conversation that will be kept as brief as possible, since most of them don’t work weekends the way that I and my team do, and so have no desire to actually perform any work on the weekend.
So what is really gained from forcing me to interact with people I’m only likely to interact with again at the next all day long meeting by creating some artificial (and irritating) circumstance that, presumably, will make us a better team when we are not actually a team?
I’m just not much of a believer in the efficacy of team-building exercises anyway, even when they’re being engaged in by people who actually are teammates, but it makes it worse when I know that I won’t be engaging in the exercise with my teammates, and knowing that whatever the exercise is, it’s probably going to be boring and stupid.
I mean, at least if we did paintballing I’d get to shoot people while I’m failing to gain any meaningful teamwork skills.
Hmm….now that I think of it, maybe I’ll just bring a paintball gun with me ayway…
In any event I’m sure the day will suck, but as mentioned I’ll be getting some major overtime, and the food will probably be good. So that's something.
On the topic of things that don’t suck, last night found me watching the second episode of Cartoon Network’s new show Robot Chicken.
The show is part of the network’s “Adult Swim” programming line-up which includes such great shows as Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Harvey Birdman, Attorney At Law, and The Venture Bros.
Robot Chicken is very difficult to describe, but is very ease to laugh at…unless you’re easily offended, and if you’re reading Threshold, you can’t be that easy to offend (or to bore, apparently). Then again, even if you're difficult to offend, Robot Chicken might be able to pull it off.
Essentially it’s a manic sketch-comedy show done in stop-motion using dolls, action figures, and other toys.
The first episode featured my own beloved Rachael Leigh Cook spoofing her own appearance in anti-drug commercial (providing the voice of a doll made in RLC's image).
Among the highlights of last night’s show was a spoof of You Got Served featuring Voltron, and the story of how after he died Walt Disney’s head was attached to a robotic spider body and how the now-undead Disney (voiced by “That 70s Show” dad Kurtwood Smith) found sustenance by eating Cuban boys.
Running the company from behind the scenes, Mecha Spider Disney ordered a theme park be built in Florida so that he could be closer to his food supply. His horrible appetites were tended to and largely restrained for decades…until Elian Gonzalez captured the hearts and minds of the American people, and whetted the appetite of Mr. Disney.
Like I said, it’s not a show for the easily offended.
As an aside, “Buffy” fans can take note of the fact that Seth Green is an Executive Producer.
In any case, the fact is that so far I’ve enjoyed Robot Chicken a great deal and I’m pleased to see that the guys at Adult Swim haven’t totally lost it.
Admittedly, their last hit (as far as I’m concerned), the aforementioned Venture Bros, went out of the park, but since that time they’ve definitely been striking out.
Unfortunately that’s not how they see it. They’ve come up with a few new shows that they seem to believe very strongly in, even though the viewers can’t stand them.
To make matters worse, they’ve been dragging their feet on greenlighting a second season of The Venture Bros, even as they keep pushing unfunny shows like Tom Goes To The Mayor and Super Milk-Chan.
(Warning: I’m about to use a really, really, really gross and offensive metaphor)
As they fail to stand behind quality shows like The Venture Bros while simultaneously pushing the shows like Tom and Milk Chan, it’s almost as if the guys at Williams Street are jerking off into their hands and throwing their jizz straight in the viewers’ faces just to see if they can get away with it, and if we’ll keep coming back for more.
So that makes Robot Chicken that much more satisfying.
Sorry to be so gross, but it just seemed like an apt metaphor.
In any case, I have to get up early in the morning, and since the day will involve a struggle to stay awake I guess that’s it for now. I'm sure I'll have plenty to bitch about here tomorrow.
Gloomy and Irritating
So my “weekend” is upon me once again.
At this point it seems to be off to a fairly gloomy and irritating start. A storm, or what passes for one in these parts, is on its way through. Naturally, before the first tiny flakes even started leisurely drifting to the ground, schools were closed for the day, and the rest of the population went in an apocalyptic frenzy of shopping for non-perishable items to ensure that they’re able to survive until tomorrow, when the storm will be over, on a year’s worth of rations.
I needed to get a few things, so I decided to head out into the world first thing, before the snow actually started to fall, in order to avoid at least some of the panic-stricken populace.
I was only partially successful in that respect, as the streets were already teeming with panicky parents and bored kids who really ought to have been in school, since there was not, and still isn’t, any immediate danger posed by the weather.
School-age kids in Northern Virginia, though, seem to spend most of their time out of school, as “bad weather” aside, most schools are closed more often than they’re open between random holidays (I never got frickin’ “Presidents’ Day” off when I was in school), teacher in-services, and “we just plain don’t feel like teaching anyone” days.
I always thought that one of the advantages of having my days off during the week would be that I could venture out into a world relatively free of teens and pre-teens. It seems I was mistaken.
I find it sort of ironic, though, that in a high-tech corridor like NoVA we're producing a bunch of future morons, as they're never in school to actually learn anything...
Last week, to make up in some part for the restraint I showed at Circuit City, I purchased a little electronic widget that I have no real use for, but that I want simply because I think it’s cool. It’s called a DiskOnKey.
I ordered it on Wednesday, and didn’t really expect it to arrive until sometime this week. However, it shipped pretty quickly, and actually arrived on Saturday.
Because I was at work I wasn’t here to sign for it when it arrived, and instead of just leaving it at my door, the way I’d hoped they would, FedEx brought it to the rental office.
Which is fine, I suppose, but it just meant that I had to go two days knowing that it was so close, but not being able to actually have it, as I leave for work long before the rental office opens, and don’t get home until after it closes.
So this morning I headed over to pick it up.
The new girl working there, the one who seems to have taken the place of Kelly, the girl who once, out of the blue, told me that I smelled REALLY good, was in, and greeted me with considerably more cheer than I’m accustomed to encountering in the morning.
She took the little slip that FedEx had left at my door and said, “Tell me your name. I mean, I know I’ve met you before but…”
I told her my name and she responded “I’m Jackie.”
I said that it was nice to meet her, thanked her for giving me the package, and was on my way.
To be honest, she was quite a bit cuter than Kelly had been, but at this point I’ve stopped doing much more than simply making a mental note of such things, so I didn’t even attempt to lay on whatever I may (or may not) have that passes for charm, particularly since, unshaven and unshowered (though I did manage to get my hair to behave before heading over there), I probably looked like complete garbage.
And of course there’s the usual probability that she’s already involved with someone, and that it wouldn’t really improve my chances even if she weren’t.
This morning I stumbled onto a blog for bacon lovers.
There was a point in my life when, if asked (and usually without being asked), I would tell you that the three greatest things invented by man were, in order, beer, bacon, and naps.
Since I’ve quit drinking bacon has, by default, moved into the top position. I don’t nap as often as I once did, so that’s made naps sort of fall off the list as well, leaving me with bacon, and bacon only.
Of course, I don’t eat nearly as much bacon as I once did. In fact, I frequently go months without eating bacon, which, once upon a time, would have been unthinkable.
Then again, the same could have once been said about not drinking, or about getting through life without caffeine, or without smoking, and yet, now I don’t drink alcohol, I avoid caffeine, and I quit smoking nearly a year ago.
So those facts don’t say much for bacon’s chances.
I did enjoy some bacon over the weekend in the form of a Chicken Bacon Ranch sub from Subway, but that’s not the same as when, back in the day, I would go into a Perkins restaurant after a long night of drinking and order bacon.
Just bacon. A big, heaping plateful of bacon.
Or when I would order a bacon cheeseburger, and request that bacon be substituted for onions, substituted for lettuce, and substituted for tomato.
I only once got someone to make a burger that way, actually adding bacon to it in place of every condiment rather than simply giving me a bacon cheeseburger with no onions, lettuce, or tomato. As I recall, that one instance amounted to thirteen slices of bacon on one burger.
It should be abundantly clear that at the time I had no interest in physical fitness.
Sometimes I’m amazed that my heart never just seized up and refused to go on.
In any case, it was with a certain sadness that I looked upon the bacon blog and realized that my love of bacon is nowhere near what it once was, though I was glad to see that there is someone out there who loves it enough to dedicate a space on the Web to it.
Loyal Threshold readers may have noticed that my humble blog has received a visit from yet another Red Sonja, this one a contemporary of Wendy Pini. My thanks to Diane De Kelb-Rittenhouse for the comments and the brief history lesson, and thanks of course to Wendy, the current Sonja, for pointing Diane my way.
As an update to my post last week in which I complained about the lack of indicator lights on my wireless keyboard for things like NumLock, my thanks to Scott for pointing out to me that the indicators are actually located on the wireless receiver. My powers of observation, it seems, are as keen as ever...
I will undoubtedly be back later with some more pointless ramblings, but for now I plan to spend a few hours engaged in the pursuit of absolutely nothing as I dedicate the rest of my day to my favorite deadly sin, Sloth.
At this point it seems to be off to a fairly gloomy and irritating start. A storm, or what passes for one in these parts, is on its way through. Naturally, before the first tiny flakes even started leisurely drifting to the ground, schools were closed for the day, and the rest of the population went in an apocalyptic frenzy of shopping for non-perishable items to ensure that they’re able to survive until tomorrow, when the storm will be over, on a year’s worth of rations.
I needed to get a few things, so I decided to head out into the world first thing, before the snow actually started to fall, in order to avoid at least some of the panic-stricken populace.
I was only partially successful in that respect, as the streets were already teeming with panicky parents and bored kids who really ought to have been in school, since there was not, and still isn’t, any immediate danger posed by the weather.
School-age kids in Northern Virginia, though, seem to spend most of their time out of school, as “bad weather” aside, most schools are closed more often than they’re open between random holidays (I never got frickin’ “Presidents’ Day” off when I was in school), teacher in-services, and “we just plain don’t feel like teaching anyone” days.
I always thought that one of the advantages of having my days off during the week would be that I could venture out into a world relatively free of teens and pre-teens. It seems I was mistaken.
I find it sort of ironic, though, that in a high-tech corridor like NoVA we're producing a bunch of future morons, as they're never in school to actually learn anything...
Last week, to make up in some part for the restraint I showed at Circuit City, I purchased a little electronic widget that I have no real use for, but that I want simply because I think it’s cool. It’s called a DiskOnKey.
I ordered it on Wednesday, and didn’t really expect it to arrive until sometime this week. However, it shipped pretty quickly, and actually arrived on Saturday.
Because I was at work I wasn’t here to sign for it when it arrived, and instead of just leaving it at my door, the way I’d hoped they would, FedEx brought it to the rental office.
Which is fine, I suppose, but it just meant that I had to go two days knowing that it was so close, but not being able to actually have it, as I leave for work long before the rental office opens, and don’t get home until after it closes.
So this morning I headed over to pick it up.
The new girl working there, the one who seems to have taken the place of Kelly, the girl who once, out of the blue, told me that I smelled REALLY good, was in, and greeted me with considerably more cheer than I’m accustomed to encountering in the morning.
She took the little slip that FedEx had left at my door and said, “Tell me your name. I mean, I know I’ve met you before but…”
I told her my name and she responded “I’m Jackie.”
I said that it was nice to meet her, thanked her for giving me the package, and was on my way.
To be honest, she was quite a bit cuter than Kelly had been, but at this point I’ve stopped doing much more than simply making a mental note of such things, so I didn’t even attempt to lay on whatever I may (or may not) have that passes for charm, particularly since, unshaven and unshowered (though I did manage to get my hair to behave before heading over there), I probably looked like complete garbage.
And of course there’s the usual probability that she’s already involved with someone, and that it wouldn’t really improve my chances even if she weren’t.
This morning I stumbled onto a blog for bacon lovers.
There was a point in my life when, if asked (and usually without being asked), I would tell you that the three greatest things invented by man were, in order, beer, bacon, and naps.
Since I’ve quit drinking bacon has, by default, moved into the top position. I don’t nap as often as I once did, so that’s made naps sort of fall off the list as well, leaving me with bacon, and bacon only.
Of course, I don’t eat nearly as much bacon as I once did. In fact, I frequently go months without eating bacon, which, once upon a time, would have been unthinkable.
Then again, the same could have once been said about not drinking, or about getting through life without caffeine, or without smoking, and yet, now I don’t drink alcohol, I avoid caffeine, and I quit smoking nearly a year ago.
So those facts don’t say much for bacon’s chances.
I did enjoy some bacon over the weekend in the form of a Chicken Bacon Ranch sub from Subway, but that’s not the same as when, back in the day, I would go into a Perkins restaurant after a long night of drinking and order bacon.
Just bacon. A big, heaping plateful of bacon.
Or when I would order a bacon cheeseburger, and request that bacon be substituted for onions, substituted for lettuce, and substituted for tomato.
I only once got someone to make a burger that way, actually adding bacon to it in place of every condiment rather than simply giving me a bacon cheeseburger with no onions, lettuce, or tomato. As I recall, that one instance amounted to thirteen slices of bacon on one burger.
It should be abundantly clear that at the time I had no interest in physical fitness.
Sometimes I’m amazed that my heart never just seized up and refused to go on.
In any case, it was with a certain sadness that I looked upon the bacon blog and realized that my love of bacon is nowhere near what it once was, though I was glad to see that there is someone out there who loves it enough to dedicate a space on the Web to it.
Loyal Threshold readers may have noticed that my humble blog has received a visit from yet another Red Sonja, this one a contemporary of Wendy Pini. My thanks to Diane De Kelb-Rittenhouse for the comments and the brief history lesson, and thanks of course to Wendy, the current Sonja, for pointing Diane my way.
As an update to my post last week in which I complained about the lack of indicator lights on my wireless keyboard for things like NumLock, my thanks to Scott for pointing out to me that the indicators are actually located on the wireless receiver. My powers of observation, it seems, are as keen as ever...
I will undoubtedly be back later with some more pointless ramblings, but for now I plan to spend a few hours engaged in the pursuit of absolutely nothing as I dedicate the rest of my day to my favorite deadly sin, Sloth.
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