I was supposed to have an eye appointment this evening, but it had to be rescheduled for next week.
However, the appointment reminded me of the fact that when I made my “filling in the gaps” post a while back, there was one that I missed.
(Note that you didn’t miss anything as a result of my lack of posting yesterday. I worked, came home, dozed on the couch, watched TV, went to bed. Exciting stuff.)
In any case, on the day before Halloween I woke up in a bad mood, for no particular reason that I could identify. It was just a lousy, under a black cloud, hate world…revenge soon kind of day.
I told Scott, “I don’t want to do this anymore,” and went on to explain that by “this” I meant all of it: everything that’s involved in being Jon.
I had decided that 36 years of being Jon was long enough and that it was time to retire and let someone else do it. Meanwhile, I could start being Dave, or Steve, or anyone other than Jon.
Of course this wasn’t really an option, and realizing and understanding this fact made my mood even darker.
I wasn’t sure what time my eye appointment was, so I called the office to confirm, and ended up sitting on hold for an extended period of time.
Because I was still Jon, I was, of course, gracious and understanding about the whole hold time thing and said that it wasn’t a problem.
I’d put off going to the comic shop on Wednesday so that I could stop by there on Thursday, stop somewhere to get something to eat after that, and then go straight to my appointment.
Naturally I ended up getting stuck at work later than usual, so after stopping at the comic shop I really didn’t have enough time go figure out where I wanted to eat, go there, eat, and make it to my appointment on time.
So I skipped the eating part, which meant that I still ended up getting to the eye doctor’s early, getting progressively more pissed off about the nature of my Jon-ness and my inability to escape it.
I sat in the car for a little while sifting through my CDs to find one to replace what was currently in the CD player, and while I did so, some lady and her kids pulled up nearby. They got out of their car and one of the kids was blathering on about something, which prompted me to angrily mock him as I sat there.
I got out of my car and spotted a Lexus SUV, parked diagonally across four parking spaces, noted the “McCain/Palin” and “I [Heart] Palin” bumper stickers, and also the presence of a yappy little dog inside and found myself hating the world that much more.
To kill a few more minutes I went into the far too busy Giant to pick up a couple of things, brought them back to my car – yappy dog still yapping – and then decided that it was close enough and went into the eye doctor’s office.
I did take heart in noting that the lady and her kids, who, after my unnoticed mocking, had gone into the eye doctor’s office themselves, were leaving, so I wouldn’t have to put up with them and fight my urge to make fun of the kid’s high-pitched pre-pubescent voice while inside.
Once I went in I was greeted by the girl I’d talked to on the phone earlier, who once again apologized profusely about the hold time, and when I said once again that it wasn’t a problem, she said to one of the other girls working there, “He’s just the nicest person.”
I thought, “If you’d seen me in my car ten minutes ago, or were privy to the thoughts I had while I was in Giant, I think your assessment would be a bit different.”
At this point I need to go off on a bit of an aside. Years ago, when I lived in Ashburn and went to the office location there for all of my eye-related needs, I semi-successfully asked out the extremely attractive office manager who worked there. It was semi-successful in that we ended up going on two dates, but ultimately – and frustratingly – nothing really came of it.
The end result aside, the actual act of asking her out had been kind of an irritating and humiliating experience. I’d gone in for my appointment with the intention of asking her out, but my nerve failed me, and I left without following through on my plan. However, once I got to my car I smoked a cigarette, steeled myself, turned around and walked back towards the office. When I got there, I saw that she was at the desk alone, so, coasting on adrenaline, I burst in and headed towards her. Seeing me, she looked up, and concerned that there might be a problem, asked if something was wrong.
Before I could utter a word, another patient came in. I sighed and decided that total privacy was unobtainable, and started to make my pitch, just as the eye doctor – the owner/senior partner – came back up front to ask her about something.
So he ended up being there to observe the whole nervous mess.
Since I’ve been doing the gentle molding thing, I’ve been treated by one of the associates/partners, who is a pleasant enough woman, which has been good, because, while I recognize that the chances of him remembering that debacle – or at least that I was the person involved in it – are almost nil, I can’t help feeling uncomfortable around the practice’s titular doctor.
Naturally I ended up getting examined by him, which annoyed me, as did the realization that the whole “Ashburn Incident” was five goddamn years ago already.
This was annoying because a. how did five years go by so quickly? b. can’t I just forget about that nonsense already? and c. I really haven’t had a date since that time? *Sigh*
Still, I fought down all of the day’s annoyances and my black mood and stayed “in character” through the whole thing, which took a lot of effort and made me tired. Noticeably so, apparently, as the doctor suggested that after the exam I should go home and get some rest.
On my previous check-ups I haven’t been given any instructions as to how many nights I should have worn my lenses before going in, and this appointment happened to fall on the day after my night off. The doctor requested that I come back after having worn the lenses for a full four nights.
He also mentioned that, while it had been cleared away by my watering eyes in the course of the examination, I apparently have some sort of mucus build-up on my eyelids that can interfere with the production of tears (another fun part of being Jon: the grossness just doesn’t quit), and a good tear layer is essential to the gentle molding process, so he also wanted me to come back to have that checked out, and, if necessary, have my eyelids scrubbed, which just sounds like it’ll be a blast.
This is why I had an appointment for tonight, which has, as mentioned, been rescheduled for next week.
In any case, that fills the remaining gap.
For the curious among you, I woke up feeling considerably less hateful and desirous of retiring from the job of being myself the next morning.
Oh, and the Lexus and the yappy little dog were still there when I got out of my appointment more than a half an hour later.
As for today, it’s been much like yesterday, with the notable exception of my writing this entry.
Tomorrow night is, of course, Riff Trax night, though we’ll most likely start off the evening by watching Hellboy 2 on Blu-ray…after I stop by Target and buy it, at any rate.
Thursday is too much TV night, so you likely won’t be seeing any sort of substantive entries before Frida.
Showing posts with label filling in the gaps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label filling in the gaps. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Filling In The Gaps
Over the past couple of weeks there have been things I had intended to mention, but forgot, so this entry is to fill in some of those gaps.
***
On the Wednesday before I left for Michigan I decided to skip stopping at the comic shop, as I was going to be out of town anyway and didn’t want to take my comics with me, so I took the Greenway home. Normally this would mean that my drive home would take just under 20 minutes.
This time around, however, it meant that my drive home took just under 2 hours.
About 5 miles from Leesburg the Greenway became a parking lot. I had no idea why, but after about 20 minutes of waiting – and moving maybe 10 feet – a bunch of cops on motorcycles went by on the side of the road, so I concluded that there must be an accident ahead and said to myself, “Well, just so long as somebody’s hurt.” I was kidding, of course; despite how annoyed I was at the wait I wouldn’t have been pleased to know that someone had been hurt.
Well, not really pleased, anyway.
I was just glad to know that there was a reason for the delay, and hoped that it wouldn’t take long for things to get cleared up.
A short time later I heard a tremendous cacophony of sirens somewhere behind me and looked in my mirror to see a bunch of flashing lights and everyone behind me pulling off to the side of the road.
As I pulled off to the side I noticed that there didn’t appear to be any ambulances or fire trucks trying to get through, just a lot more motorcycles, a bunch of cruisers, and some big, black Suburbans.
It was at that point that I remembered: there was an Obama rally in Leesburg.
Sure enough, along with all of the police and, presumably, Secret Service vehicles in the motorcade, a big tour bus came squeezing through.
After the motorcade passed, everyone turned into an asshole and tried to prevent everyone else from getting back onto the road.
Traffic was still jacked up in Leesburg hours later when Scott and I were making our way back to my house after eating at Ruby Tuesday.
(As an aside, we went to Ruby Tuesday because a couple of nights before I was looking through a drawer and saw that I still had a Ruby Tuesday gift card from something. When I went to grab it before we went, I saw that, in fact, I still had the empty packaging that had once contained a Ruby Tuesday gift card. Still, I had my mind set on going there, so that’s where we went.)
We’d also stopped at Super Target so that I could pick up The Incredible Hulk on Blu-Ray – which is what we watched that evening – and a new, smaller carry-on bag that I would be able to keep with me when I got on the plane.
***
On my flight out of Dulles I found myself seated next to an old lady who smelled like farts and who spilled Pepsi all over my leg.
She never apologized for it, only stopping to look dismissively in my direction when I sat up in surprise, then going back to picking the ice cubes up from her tray.
She did ask the flight attendant to bring me some napkins. Actually, she said, “Could you bring him some napkins so he can wipe off his jeans?” There was a definite sneer of contempt in her voice when she said “jeans” for some reason. I mean, I really didn’t get that part. She could hardly be faulting my fashion sense, given that she was wearing jeans herself.
The flight attendant was actually kind of pretty, but there was something sort of off about her. Her hair was jet black and kind of ratty, and she looked as though she had just taken off a bunch of make-up (I don’t know how to explain what that means; I guess she looked sort of “freshly scrubbed” or something, but basically I just somehow got the impression that not long before she’d had a lot of make-up on) . I’d have to say that she looked like she might normally be Goth, but in a kind of natural way, just looking Goth without actually going through all the bother of trying to look Goth.
She also reminded me a little of this cashier who worked at the grocery store I worked at. On my last night there before starting at my job at the college I had stopped to bag for her, as all of the stockers were out fetching carts from the parking lot, and after thing slowed down she thanked me, then paused and said, “I think you rock.”
I said, “I think so, too,” which she informed me was the perfect response.
I was kind of annoyed to have a brief moment of flirtation with a cute girl at work on my last night working there.
Sometime later that week I stopped in there with my friend Eric and she and I had another moment, which led Eric to start harping on me about how I should pursue her.
I didn’t think it was worth the effort. Not because she wasn’t cute – she was – but because I’m Jon. Turns out that she was actually a student at the college I’d just started working for, so I wouldn’t have been able to date her anyway, as it was against the rules for staff to be involved with students.
(Unless there was a pre-existing relationship, of course.)
***
In Michigan, in the course of a conversation about girlfriends, or more accurately, the lack thereof, my nephew Jeremy said to me, “No offense, but I don’t want to end up like you.”
No offense. Of course. How could I possibly be offended by that?
(Rotten little smart-ass punk. I changed your damn diapers and you’re getting digs in on me? After asking me to buy you a laptop?)
Honestly, though, how could I be offended? Of course he wouldn’t want to end up like me, nor would I want him to, at least, not in the romance department.
In response I said, “Nobody wants to end up like me. Least of all me.”
***
My mom’s birthday party was held at a hotel that has a swimming pool, so naturally the kids all took advantage of the opportunity to go swimming.
However, because we were planning to take some family pictures, the kids had to hear the most evil, horrible, and vile word in the English language: wait.
For a kid, being told to wait is like poison to the ears.
My nephew Jacob decided to spend the time waiting by sitting in a chair and staring at the water in anticipation. He sat there utterly transfixed, as if looking at all of the presents under the tree on Christmas Eve.
***
While I was wandering around the Town Center on Friday before the movie, awash in a sea of families, couples, and groups of friends, I couldn’t help but think that, being the only unmatched person there, I stood out like a sore thumb. Then I decided that the expression “stood out like a sore thumb” was inadequate to the task of describing how much I stood out, and that there should be a new expression that is more suitable. Thus, alone amid the various groups of people, I stood out like Jon.
***
As I mentioned, there weren’t that many people in the theater, but at one point shortly after I sat down – again, standing out like Jon, even though I was sitting – a mixed groups of teenagers came in, which made me grit my teeth in anticipation of them being noisy. Fortunately they didn’t make much noise during the movie.
On the way back to my car I noticed that one of the girls in the group was dressed up like a schoolgirl. I’m assuming that they were all old enough to be at a rated R movie, so I only feel a little bit creepy in saying that I approved of her costume and that she looked extremely hot.
While checking out her legs I noticed that the was carrying a prop flail – which is to say, a spiked metal ball on the end of a chain – and realized that she wasn’t just dressed as a schoolgirl, she was dressed as that chick from Kill Bill, which made the costume that much cooler.
***
I really didn’t do anything yesterday – I’d showered, gotten dressed, and then realized that I didn’t actually have to go anywhere or do anything, so decided to stay home and do nothing – that nearly brings us up to date.
As for today, I found that when the majority of devices I own can automatically reset their own clocks – even my watch resets itself – it feels like a huge burden to reset the things that don’t reset themselves. The biggest hassle is trying – and ultimately failing – to get the clocks on my stove and my microwave in sync.
Apparently the hour that we gained overnight provided me with a little motivation, as, seeing that nature was doing a lousy job of taking care of the problem for me, I mowed the lawn after talking to my mother. The dense (and damp) growth only caused me to trip the circuit breaker once.
After that I decided to give the house a semi-thorough cleaning (only “semi” because I limited myself to downstairs). It’s been a while since the house got a good – or really, any – cleaning because apart from me the only person who usually sees the place is Scott, and he doesn’t care. And even if he does, so what?
Even so, it did get to the point at which I started to care a little, so now it’s clean, for whatever that’s worth.
Upstairs isn’t really in the same condition that downstairs had been – and I did at least dust up here – which is why my level of caring didn’t get past the first floor.
After that I showered, dressed, and went out to gas up the car, as did, apparently, everyone in Leesburg. I had to circle the station to find an open pump, only to find that the person at the pump ahead of me – who was nowhere to be seen – hadn’t really left me quite enough room to pull in. The hose just barely reached my gas tank, and in the struggle to get it to reach the nozzle dripped gas all over my arm. So that was fun, and made for a pleasant smell when I got in the car.
After that I headed to Super-Target – again, just like everyone else in Leesburg.
I really didn’t understand why there were so many people out and about. Shouldn’t they be home watching football, or golf, or car racing, or curling or something?
I’ve been drinking a lot of green tea for a while now, for the sake of whatever benefits it’s supposed to provide. Anti-oxidants or something?
In any case, I really like the Arizona Green Tea with Ginseng and Honey, and I buy the big gallon jugs of the stuff.
When I went grocery shopping on Tuesday, Target was completely sold out, but I wasn’t too concerned, as I knew I had enough to get me through the weekend.
Today I drank the last of what I had, so I’d intended to restock my supply. Too bad Target didn’t have the same idea.
I decided instead to pick up a 12-pack of the Lipton Green Tea with Citrus, which I also like (it tastes kind of like Original Flavor California Cooler, minus the alcohol, of course, for those who remember California Cooler).
It was only after I got home and started loading the bottles into the refrigerator that I noticed that I’d grabbed the Diet version.
*Sigh*
That and the other assorted aggravations that resulted from going out into the world were supplemented by me developing a serious case of the dropsies after I got home. Seriously, it’s like stuff is actually leaping out of my hands.
In any case, I suppose I should get back to doing the laundry, which I’m sure will result in wet clothes flying all over the place…
***
On the Wednesday before I left for Michigan I decided to skip stopping at the comic shop, as I was going to be out of town anyway and didn’t want to take my comics with me, so I took the Greenway home. Normally this would mean that my drive home would take just under 20 minutes.
This time around, however, it meant that my drive home took just under 2 hours.
About 5 miles from Leesburg the Greenway became a parking lot. I had no idea why, but after about 20 minutes of waiting – and moving maybe 10 feet – a bunch of cops on motorcycles went by on the side of the road, so I concluded that there must be an accident ahead and said to myself, “Well, just so long as somebody’s hurt.” I was kidding, of course; despite how annoyed I was at the wait I wouldn’t have been pleased to know that someone had been hurt.
Well, not really pleased, anyway.
I was just glad to know that there was a reason for the delay, and hoped that it wouldn’t take long for things to get cleared up.
A short time later I heard a tremendous cacophony of sirens somewhere behind me and looked in my mirror to see a bunch of flashing lights and everyone behind me pulling off to the side of the road.
As I pulled off to the side I noticed that there didn’t appear to be any ambulances or fire trucks trying to get through, just a lot more motorcycles, a bunch of cruisers, and some big, black Suburbans.
It was at that point that I remembered: there was an Obama rally in Leesburg.
Sure enough, along with all of the police and, presumably, Secret Service vehicles in the motorcade, a big tour bus came squeezing through.
After the motorcade passed, everyone turned into an asshole and tried to prevent everyone else from getting back onto the road.
Traffic was still jacked up in Leesburg hours later when Scott and I were making our way back to my house after eating at Ruby Tuesday.
(As an aside, we went to Ruby Tuesday because a couple of nights before I was looking through a drawer and saw that I still had a Ruby Tuesday gift card from something. When I went to grab it before we went, I saw that, in fact, I still had the empty packaging that had once contained a Ruby Tuesday gift card. Still, I had my mind set on going there, so that’s where we went.)
We’d also stopped at Super Target so that I could pick up The Incredible Hulk on Blu-Ray – which is what we watched that evening – and a new, smaller carry-on bag that I would be able to keep with me when I got on the plane.
***
On my flight out of Dulles I found myself seated next to an old lady who smelled like farts and who spilled Pepsi all over my leg.
She never apologized for it, only stopping to look dismissively in my direction when I sat up in surprise, then going back to picking the ice cubes up from her tray.
She did ask the flight attendant to bring me some napkins. Actually, she said, “Could you bring him some napkins so he can wipe off his jeans?” There was a definite sneer of contempt in her voice when she said “jeans” for some reason. I mean, I really didn’t get that part. She could hardly be faulting my fashion sense, given that she was wearing jeans herself.
The flight attendant was actually kind of pretty, but there was something sort of off about her. Her hair was jet black and kind of ratty, and she looked as though she had just taken off a bunch of make-up (I don’t know how to explain what that means; I guess she looked sort of “freshly scrubbed” or something, but basically I just somehow got the impression that not long before she’d had a lot of make-up on) . I’d have to say that she looked like she might normally be Goth, but in a kind of natural way, just looking Goth without actually going through all the bother of trying to look Goth.
She also reminded me a little of this cashier who worked at the grocery store I worked at. On my last night there before starting at my job at the college I had stopped to bag for her, as all of the stockers were out fetching carts from the parking lot, and after thing slowed down she thanked me, then paused and said, “I think you rock.”
I said, “I think so, too,” which she informed me was the perfect response.
I was kind of annoyed to have a brief moment of flirtation with a cute girl at work on my last night working there.
Sometime later that week I stopped in there with my friend Eric and she and I had another moment, which led Eric to start harping on me about how I should pursue her.
I didn’t think it was worth the effort. Not because she wasn’t cute – she was – but because I’m Jon. Turns out that she was actually a student at the college I’d just started working for, so I wouldn’t have been able to date her anyway, as it was against the rules for staff to be involved with students.
(Unless there was a pre-existing relationship, of course.)
***
In Michigan, in the course of a conversation about girlfriends, or more accurately, the lack thereof, my nephew Jeremy said to me, “No offense, but I don’t want to end up like you.”
No offense. Of course. How could I possibly be offended by that?
(Rotten little smart-ass punk. I changed your damn diapers and you’re getting digs in on me? After asking me to buy you a laptop?)
Honestly, though, how could I be offended? Of course he wouldn’t want to end up like me, nor would I want him to, at least, not in the romance department.
In response I said, “Nobody wants to end up like me. Least of all me.”
***
My mom’s birthday party was held at a hotel that has a swimming pool, so naturally the kids all took advantage of the opportunity to go swimming.
However, because we were planning to take some family pictures, the kids had to hear the most evil, horrible, and vile word in the English language: wait.
For a kid, being told to wait is like poison to the ears.
My nephew Jacob decided to spend the time waiting by sitting in a chair and staring at the water in anticipation. He sat there utterly transfixed, as if looking at all of the presents under the tree on Christmas Eve.
***
While I was wandering around the Town Center on Friday before the movie, awash in a sea of families, couples, and groups of friends, I couldn’t help but think that, being the only unmatched person there, I stood out like a sore thumb. Then I decided that the expression “stood out like a sore thumb” was inadequate to the task of describing how much I stood out, and that there should be a new expression that is more suitable. Thus, alone amid the various groups of people, I stood out like Jon.
***
As I mentioned, there weren’t that many people in the theater, but at one point shortly after I sat down – again, standing out like Jon, even though I was sitting – a mixed groups of teenagers came in, which made me grit my teeth in anticipation of them being noisy. Fortunately they didn’t make much noise during the movie.
On the way back to my car I noticed that one of the girls in the group was dressed up like a schoolgirl. I’m assuming that they were all old enough to be at a rated R movie, so I only feel a little bit creepy in saying that I approved of her costume and that she looked extremely hot.
While checking out her legs I noticed that the was carrying a prop flail – which is to say, a spiked metal ball on the end of a chain – and realized that she wasn’t just dressed as a schoolgirl, she was dressed as that chick from Kill Bill, which made the costume that much cooler.
***
I really didn’t do anything yesterday – I’d showered, gotten dressed, and then realized that I didn’t actually have to go anywhere or do anything, so decided to stay home and do nothing – that nearly brings us up to date.
As for today, I found that when the majority of devices I own can automatically reset their own clocks – even my watch resets itself – it feels like a huge burden to reset the things that don’t reset themselves. The biggest hassle is trying – and ultimately failing – to get the clocks on my stove and my microwave in sync.
Apparently the hour that we gained overnight provided me with a little motivation, as, seeing that nature was doing a lousy job of taking care of the problem for me, I mowed the lawn after talking to my mother. The dense (and damp) growth only caused me to trip the circuit breaker once.
After that I decided to give the house a semi-thorough cleaning (only “semi” because I limited myself to downstairs). It’s been a while since the house got a good – or really, any – cleaning because apart from me the only person who usually sees the place is Scott, and he doesn’t care. And even if he does, so what?
Even so, it did get to the point at which I started to care a little, so now it’s clean, for whatever that’s worth.
Upstairs isn’t really in the same condition that downstairs had been – and I did at least dust up here – which is why my level of caring didn’t get past the first floor.
After that I showered, dressed, and went out to gas up the car, as did, apparently, everyone in Leesburg. I had to circle the station to find an open pump, only to find that the person at the pump ahead of me – who was nowhere to be seen – hadn’t really left me quite enough room to pull in. The hose just barely reached my gas tank, and in the struggle to get it to reach the nozzle dripped gas all over my arm. So that was fun, and made for a pleasant smell when I got in the car.
After that I headed to Super-Target – again, just like everyone else in Leesburg.
I really didn’t understand why there were so many people out and about. Shouldn’t they be home watching football, or golf, or car racing, or curling or something?
I’ve been drinking a lot of green tea for a while now, for the sake of whatever benefits it’s supposed to provide. Anti-oxidants or something?
In any case, I really like the Arizona Green Tea with Ginseng and Honey, and I buy the big gallon jugs of the stuff.
When I went grocery shopping on Tuesday, Target was completely sold out, but I wasn’t too concerned, as I knew I had enough to get me through the weekend.
Today I drank the last of what I had, so I’d intended to restock my supply. Too bad Target didn’t have the same idea.
I decided instead to pick up a 12-pack of the Lipton Green Tea with Citrus, which I also like (it tastes kind of like Original Flavor California Cooler, minus the alcohol, of course, for those who remember California Cooler).
It was only after I got home and started loading the bottles into the refrigerator that I noticed that I’d grabbed the Diet version.
*Sigh*
That and the other assorted aggravations that resulted from going out into the world were supplemented by me developing a serious case of the dropsies after I got home. Seriously, it’s like stuff is actually leaping out of my hands.
In any case, I suppose I should get back to doing the laundry, which I’m sure will result in wet clothes flying all over the place…
Saturday, October 18, 2008
The Week That Wasn't...No, Wait. Was.
Okay, so it’s been a while since I made a proper post. I guess I’ll do a day-by-day breakdown on what you’ve missed. Or rather, what you’ve “missed.”
Tuesday:
Not much of anything. I worked, I came home, I sat around, I watched Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.
Wednesday:
I worked, and didn’t stop at the comic shop on the way home, as I had an eye appointment scheduled for Thursday evening and decided that rather than go home, sit around, then go to the eye doctor, I would stop at the comic shop, get something to eat, then go to the eye doctor.
When I got home, though, I had a voicemail from the eye doctor’s office telling me that my appointment – which had already been rescheduled from Tuesday – had to be rescheduled yet again.
Later, Scott came over for Riff Trax night. Before watching the movies – Star Wars Episode 2 and Spider-Man 3 – we went to the IHOP to get dinner. The place was filled to overflowing with old people.
Scott was wearing his “I’m Not Dead Yet” Spamalot T-shirt, and some lady said to him, “I like your shirt.” We concluded that, given her advanced age, she simply liked the sentiment expressed, and was not a Monty Python or Broadway fan.
Anyone who knows me knows that I love bacon. A lot. I love pretty much everything about bacon, to the extent that even if I had no other objections to doing so, I could never, ever, become a Jew, Muslim, or Rastafarian, simply because of the proscriptions against the eating of it. If eating bacon in and of itself will keep me out of Heaven, it’s worth it.
That being said, the bacon that I had with my meal at IHOP made my soul sad. What they gave me wasn’t bacon. It wasn’t even a pale imitation of bacon. I think the bacon that IHOP served me was what was really being described as an abomination in Leviticus.
Thursday:
I had a dentist appointment in the morning. All of the cute girls who used to work at my dentist’s office are apparently gone, though the hygienist who cleaned my teeth was kind of cute. She was also tiny, which added to her cuteness.
Naturally she was married – she made a reference to her father-in-law – though it’s hardly as though that matters, as someone who has to spend a significant amount of time looking into the horror show that is my mouth is probably the last person on earth I’d be likely to hook up with.
She seemed to be a very shy person who was desperately trying to overcome her shyness, presumably in order to be more effective in dealing with patients, and finding that her natural inclinations were winning out over her efforts to counter them. There was hesitancy to every attempt she made at friendly small talk – with most efforts to do so taking place when I was incapable of responding – and she was incredibly soft-spoken.
It was noon by the time I got out of there, so I stopped at a nearby McDonald’s to pick up lunch, where I had the following conversation with the drive-through menu board:
Menu Board: Hey there, fat fatty fat fat. Why don’t you order the Double Quarter-Pounder meal? You know you want to. Come on; it’s a half a pound of meat. That should almost be enough for your fat ass. Do it! I dare you!
Me: I accept your challenge.
In fairness, I was really damned hungry, as I hadn’t eaten much that morning as a courtesy to the person who would have to clean any food remnants out from my teeth.
For the first time in I have no idea how long, I actually ate all of my fries. I almost never do that. Like I said, I was really damned hungry.
Friday:
Though I’m not sure who did the naming, as I never saw any mention of the source in any of the e-mails about it, my company was named the 2008 Cable Operator of the Year.
In celebration of this achievement, a “block party” was held this afternoon at work.
(As of the time I’m writing this it’s still Friday)
The party was kind of like the “beer bashes” we used to have at AOL, although it was a bit more elaborate, with actual food as opposed to snacks, live music, and various events, like a sack race and a tug-of-war.
I suppose I’m just used to it from my time at AOL, but a lot of people at work were surprised by the fact that alcohol was going to be provided.
For my part, I stuck to water, as the soft drink selection consisted entirely of things that I don’t like.
It wasn’t a great day for an outdoor party, as it was overcast, windy, and a bit chilly.
Almost as soon as I stepped outside I was accosted by someone trying to recruit me for the sack race. Because, just as there is no “I” in “Team,” there is no “Jon” in “Participation,” I declined the request (and even the offer of five bucks). The person attempting to recruit me asked if I was participating in any of the other competitions, and when I said no, she asked, “How’d you manage that?” I said, “By saying no.” Evidently it’s a revolutionary concept.
A little while later I was hit up again, but remained firm in my resistance. After all, when I’m doing something as basic as merely walking or even just standing there’s a better than average chance that I’ll fall on my face. As the level of complexity of an activity increases, the odds rapidly approach 100%, and today just didn’t feel like the sort of day on which I wanted to fall on my face on wet grass in front of pretty much all of my co-workers.
After I got home I took a nap – this time waking up before it was dark out – and then ate the second half of the foot-long sub I bought yesterday.
I spent some time doing nothing in particular, then watched that show Numb3rs, and then set about writing this.
So there you have it.
There are a couple of other items of note that I should mention. On Wednesday it was two years since my dad died. I hadn’t realized that until some point late in the day when I looked at the calendar and actually noticed what day it was. It doesn’t suck any less than it did two years ago, and I actually miss him even more.
Thursday marked the one-year anniversary of my getting laid off from AOL. Not a happy memory, exactly, but ultimately things worked out better for me, so it’s not an occasion that even comes close to approaching the sadness of the day preceding it.
It’s also been two years since my friend Jon Betts went missing and/or committed suicide.
So, yeah. Not exactly a week overflowing with happy memories.
But anyway, that fills in any gaps you may have had in your knowledge of Jon’s daily life for this week.
I just recently finished reading Volume 2 of Showcase Presents: Superman Family, which reprints issues of Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane comics from the fifties, so if I can build up enough motivation to write them, over the next few days you might be seeing some posts detailing some of the Silver Age bat-shittery I encountered in the process of reading those stories. Just a head’s up to those of you who will likely be uninterested in such posts.
Tuesday:
Not much of anything. I worked, I came home, I sat around, I watched Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.
Wednesday:
I worked, and didn’t stop at the comic shop on the way home, as I had an eye appointment scheduled for Thursday evening and decided that rather than go home, sit around, then go to the eye doctor, I would stop at the comic shop, get something to eat, then go to the eye doctor.
When I got home, though, I had a voicemail from the eye doctor’s office telling me that my appointment – which had already been rescheduled from Tuesday – had to be rescheduled yet again.
Later, Scott came over for Riff Trax night. Before watching the movies – Star Wars Episode 2 and Spider-Man 3 – we went to the IHOP to get dinner. The place was filled to overflowing with old people.
Scott was wearing his “I’m Not Dead Yet” Spamalot T-shirt, and some lady said to him, “I like your shirt.” We concluded that, given her advanced age, she simply liked the sentiment expressed, and was not a Monty Python or Broadway fan.
Anyone who knows me knows that I love bacon. A lot. I love pretty much everything about bacon, to the extent that even if I had no other objections to doing so, I could never, ever, become a Jew, Muslim, or Rastafarian, simply because of the proscriptions against the eating of it. If eating bacon in and of itself will keep me out of Heaven, it’s worth it.
That being said, the bacon that I had with my meal at IHOP made my soul sad. What they gave me wasn’t bacon. It wasn’t even a pale imitation of bacon. I think the bacon that IHOP served me was what was really being described as an abomination in Leviticus.
Thursday:
I had a dentist appointment in the morning. All of the cute girls who used to work at my dentist’s office are apparently gone, though the hygienist who cleaned my teeth was kind of cute. She was also tiny, which added to her cuteness.
Naturally she was married – she made a reference to her father-in-law – though it’s hardly as though that matters, as someone who has to spend a significant amount of time looking into the horror show that is my mouth is probably the last person on earth I’d be likely to hook up with.
She seemed to be a very shy person who was desperately trying to overcome her shyness, presumably in order to be more effective in dealing with patients, and finding that her natural inclinations were winning out over her efforts to counter them. There was hesitancy to every attempt she made at friendly small talk – with most efforts to do so taking place when I was incapable of responding – and she was incredibly soft-spoken.
It was noon by the time I got out of there, so I stopped at a nearby McDonald’s to pick up lunch, where I had the following conversation with the drive-through menu board:
Menu Board: Hey there, fat fatty fat fat. Why don’t you order the Double Quarter-Pounder meal? You know you want to. Come on; it’s a half a pound of meat. That should almost be enough for your fat ass. Do it! I dare you!
Me: I accept your challenge.
In fairness, I was really damned hungry, as I hadn’t eaten much that morning as a courtesy to the person who would have to clean any food remnants out from my teeth.
For the first time in I have no idea how long, I actually ate all of my fries. I almost never do that. Like I said, I was really damned hungry.
Friday:
Though I’m not sure who did the naming, as I never saw any mention of the source in any of the e-mails about it, my company was named the 2008 Cable Operator of the Year.
In celebration of this achievement, a “block party” was held this afternoon at work.
(As of the time I’m writing this it’s still Friday)
The party was kind of like the “beer bashes” we used to have at AOL, although it was a bit more elaborate, with actual food as opposed to snacks, live music, and various events, like a sack race and a tug-of-war.
I suppose I’m just used to it from my time at AOL, but a lot of people at work were surprised by the fact that alcohol was going to be provided.
For my part, I stuck to water, as the soft drink selection consisted entirely of things that I don’t like.
It wasn’t a great day for an outdoor party, as it was overcast, windy, and a bit chilly.
Almost as soon as I stepped outside I was accosted by someone trying to recruit me for the sack race. Because, just as there is no “I” in “Team,” there is no “Jon” in “Participation,” I declined the request (and even the offer of five bucks). The person attempting to recruit me asked if I was participating in any of the other competitions, and when I said no, she asked, “How’d you manage that?” I said, “By saying no.” Evidently it’s a revolutionary concept.
A little while later I was hit up again, but remained firm in my resistance. After all, when I’m doing something as basic as merely walking or even just standing there’s a better than average chance that I’ll fall on my face. As the level of complexity of an activity increases, the odds rapidly approach 100%, and today just didn’t feel like the sort of day on which I wanted to fall on my face on wet grass in front of pretty much all of my co-workers.
After I got home I took a nap – this time waking up before it was dark out – and then ate the second half of the foot-long sub I bought yesterday.
I spent some time doing nothing in particular, then watched that show Numb3rs, and then set about writing this.
So there you have it.
There are a couple of other items of note that I should mention. On Wednesday it was two years since my dad died. I hadn’t realized that until some point late in the day when I looked at the calendar and actually noticed what day it was. It doesn’t suck any less than it did two years ago, and I actually miss him even more.
Thursday marked the one-year anniversary of my getting laid off from AOL. Not a happy memory, exactly, but ultimately things worked out better for me, so it’s not an occasion that even comes close to approaching the sadness of the day preceding it.
It’s also been two years since my friend Jon Betts went missing and/or committed suicide.
So, yeah. Not exactly a week overflowing with happy memories.
But anyway, that fills in any gaps you may have had in your knowledge of Jon’s daily life for this week.
I just recently finished reading Volume 2 of Showcase Presents: Superman Family, which reprints issues of Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane comics from the fifties, so if I can build up enough motivation to write them, over the next few days you might be seeing some posts detailing some of the Silver Age bat-shittery I encountered in the process of reading those stories. Just a head’s up to those of you who will likely be uninterested in such posts.
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