Because Of Course I Have

Over in the Archie Comics corner of the comics universe, a story is underway in which they will be – sort of – killing off the eternal teenager who serves as the publisher’s namesake.
I say “sort of” because it’s happening in just one of the comics they publish, a series entitled Life With Archie, which, inasmuch as there’s any real continuity in Archie comics, is an out of continuity comic.  That’s my understanding, at least: I occasionally read things about Archie Comics, but I don’t actually read any of the comics themselves, and haven’t done so for decades.  The closest I’ve come is reading the utterly fantastic Criminal:  The Last of the Innocent, which, deservedly so, was on all sorts of “best of” lists a few years back.
(Archie tends to be in the news – at least the comics news – frequently, as they’ve done a lot of interesting things lately, such as introducing an enormously popular openly-gay character, launched a horror comic called Afterlife With Archie, with a complementary horror-centric Sabrina the Teenage Witch comic on the way, and apparently* they tagged Girls creator Lena Dunham to write a comic.)
In any case, the upcoming issue featuring the final fate of young Mr. Andrews is going to feature a lot of variant covers by different artists, including this fantastic cover by AH! himself, Adam Hughes.
Earlier today I shot the link above to Scott, which prompted the inevitable question:  Betty or Veronica?
I replied that for years my default answer, without even really thinking about it, was Betty.  Granted, Veronica is rich, and, in theory more physically attractive than Betty (in practice, owing to the general artistic style of Archie Comics, they tend to look the same, just with different hair), and I do tend to prefer dark-haired women to blondes, but Betty wins out largely due to her personality.  She’s more good-natured, less high-strung, and not nearly so high-maintenance.
However, in recent years I’ve found myself drifting a little more towards Team Veronica.  Ultimately, my answer hasn’t changed – it’s still Betty.  However, it’s not as reflexive a response as it once was.
After explaining all of this, I said, “And yes, I have thought about this a lot.”
Because of course I have.
So what has changed over the years to make me less steadfast in my choice?  (By the way, in a perfect world, my answer to the question “Betty or Veronica?” would be “Yes.  And also Midge.  And Josie.  And the Pussycats.  And Sabrina.”)
Scott asked if I’d become a gold digger.  It’s not that, though sure, the money would be appealing.  If anything, it’s just that I’ve become more shallow.
But no, it’s not really that, either.  Despite the fact that I’ve thought about it a lot, I’m not really sure that I know the answer, other than that when I was younger, I was more drawn to the tomboy, girl next door type, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve developed more of an appreciation for the more, for want of a better term, girly types.  At the very least, I can appreciate someone who is very well put-together.
(And yes, this is all horribly objectifying, but we are talking about actual objects, given that neither Betty nor Veronica is a real woman, and to the extent that this is at all applicable to real women, it’s more to do with general archetypes than anything else.  Or something.  And of course it should go without saying that the assumption is that we’re talking about adult versions of Betty and Veronica.)
The other questions that this discussion raised was, beyond the obvious “Because of course I have” response, why have I given this a lot of thought?
As mentioned, I don’t actually read any of the comics, so what brings it to mind?  Well, Betty and Veronica’s floating heads adorn one of the signs on my spinner rack, so that’s probably part of it, but really it’s just a matter of spending a lot of time thinking about all sorts of comic book women.
Comics do, after all, play a big role in who I am, and my interest in them is something of a defining characteristic.  It’s only natural, then, that comic book women have an impact on my thoughts about and interactions with actual women.  I’ve mentioned in other posts about how certain women in comics have had an influence on the kind of women I’m attracted to.
And the fact is that I spend more time thinking about women like Lois Lane, Jinal, Zatanna, Kitty Pryde, and a host of others, but Betty and Veronica find their way into the mix as well.
One of these days I might get around to actually writing up a post exploring just what impact the fictional women listed above have had on my feelings about actual women – at least in terms of what qualities I find attractive – but this isn’t that post.
Mostly I just wanted to get you all to look at that awesome AH! cover, and also share my amusement at my own statement about thinking about this a lot.

*That’s a sarcastic “apparently.”  I’ve got a news app on my phone that, amongst other things, is set to find me articles about comics.  At the time that the Dunhman-penned story was announced, there was a period of several days in which the only results I got – mostly from non-comics news sources – were about Lena Dunham writing an Archie story.

Friday Night Randomness

Last week Scott and I went to see the new Godzilla movie.  I really liked the parts that prominently featured the titular King of All Monsters…which is to say that I liked about 5% of the movie.
I will say that there is an interesting movie to be made focusing on the lives of the people impacted by the devastation caused by giant, rampaging monsters, especially if it’s one that has the features the caliber of talent that was found in Godzilla…but that’s not the movie I paid to see.
Also:  too damn many kids.
I described the movie to Scott as being “Godzilla-adjacent.”
But given the success of the movie, which led to the already-announced sequel, I’m definitely in the minority on this one.

***

One of the main characters in the movie was played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson, star of the Kick-Ass movies, whom I totally didn’t recognize.  His wife in the movie was played by Elizabeth Olsen.  I was amused by this, as he will be portraying Quicksilver in Avengers 2, and Olsen will be playing The Scarlet Witch.  I just found it kind of funny, as in this movie they played a husband and wife, while in their upcoming roles they’ll be portraying siblings.
It actually gives their upcoming roles an Ultimates vibe…

***

On the topic of Quicksilver, thanks to a strange arrangement involving movie rights, Quicksilver was also able to appear in X-Men:  Days of Future Past, which Scott and I saw earlier today, and I have to say that, despite how goofy he looked in publicity photos, he was pretty awesome.
Overall, I think Singer and company did a very good job of adapting a classic story from the comics given the characters and the particular version of the X-verse they’ve constructed in the movies, but in a lot of ways it kind of suffers in comparison to the source material.
One thing the movie did have going for it, though, was that, unlike the original story, written at a time when the character didn’t exist, was the presence of Blink.  Just seeing her on the screen made me happy, though I can’t really articulate why.  It also helped that, as presented, she was pretty awesome.  Which is how it should be.

***

At work there are signs all over the place stating that “ID Badges Must Be Visible At All Times,” yet people ignore them.  This annoys me.  Not because people are breaking the rules – I don’t particularly care about that – but because not having them out and visible leads to me witnessing the same scene every day, usually with the same people, as the flagrant rule-breakers are rushing towards the entrance in the morning and are then stopped short and forced to rummage through their purses or laptop bags to dig out their IDs in order to let themselves into the building.
If you followed the rules, your badge would always be readily-accessible!
…
I don’t know why that annoys me so much, but it does.  I guess just because it’s the same people doing the same goddamn thing day after day after day.

***

Speaking of “day after day,” once a song shuffles into rotation on my iPod, which spends its life plugged into my alarm clock, it tends to be the song that wakes me up for a long stretch of time, as I never hit snooze, so the song only plays for a few seconds at a time.
For the past week or so the song that’s been waking me up is Nick Cave’s “Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere?”
This morning, that resulted in me being awoken by Nick singing, “Wake up, my love, my lover wake up.”
Awkward.
Listen, Nick, we’re just friends, okay?
On the other hand, it will be utterly appropriate when the day comes upon which I’m awoken by the words, “Gloomily, mournfully, we go ‘round again, and one more doomed time, and without much hope, going ‘round and around to nowhere…”

***

Still, I do like it when there’s a certain synchronicity with lyrics, such as when I’m awoken by the song “Wake Up” by Mad Season, or “Wake Up Dead” by Megadeth…

***

As I pulled in to the parking garage by the theater today I noticed a security guard on a Segway and thought, “Huh.  That’s new.”
When I was walking out of the parking garage, he began chatting me up about my car.  Apparently he’s something of a CX-5 fanboy.  It was all kind of…odd, particularly with the way he was just sort of bobbing up and down on the Segway while we talked.

***

A while back on my way out to my car in the morning a deer went rushing past me.  It happened so quickly that it took me several seconds to figure out what had just happened.
The other day while I was out on the smoking deck at work, I was nearly hit by another deer, which was, frankly, even more unexpected than the one that dashed through my yard.
The next day on the way out to the smoking deck I encountered an apparently suicidal field mouse that seemed determined to get stepped on.
I managed to avoid any random animal encounters today.

ANTI-LIFE WILL MAKE YOU RIGHT!

First, read this:  This is the Sunday school pageant I’d love to see: Psalm 82
Now what follows below, which was hastily dashed off by me in the comments section of the post(and has had some cursory editing done before being reposted here), will make slightly more sense.

“Give justice to the weak and the orphan;
maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute.
Rescue the weak and the needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”

Jehovah paused to allow those assembled to contemplate his words before moving forward on the path to the big finish; he was nothing if not a master showman, and he knew that if he was going to get the Council on board he would have to provide them with a show unlike any other they'd encountered.
Looking about the room, he was greeted by a series of impassive - yet solemn - faces...or the things that passed for faces with some of the less anthropomorphic among them, at any rate, and once he was certain that he had wrung out the last drop of drama that he could from the dramatic pause he cleared his throat and prepared to move on to his next point.
As he began to speak, he heard the sound of laughter, or at least he assumed it to be laughter. It was an empty, cold, and dark sound.
It reminded Jehovah of the silence that filled his ears in an earlier time, in the time before he first uttered the words, "Let there be light."
"It seems," Jehovah said, "that one among you has something to say." He searched the crowd looking for the source of the sound, and the assembled gods each in turn did the same, until, at last, a solitary figure stood.
The face was familiar to Jehovah - certainly it was a face that no one, particularly one possessed of omniscience, would be likely to forget - but he couldn't quite place it. The pitfall of knowing everything, after all, is that it's a lot of information to have to sift through, making rapid retrieval a challenge even for the omnipotent.
"I ask your forbearance," the god who stood said, in a voice that seemed to bring a chill to the air. "However, I was not aware that all of us were called here to witness a comedic performance."
Jehovah scowled. The impertinent god in the crowd smiled, though it was a smile that was out of place on the stony countenance, which, Jehovah could tell, normally bore a scowl that would put the one he himself was trying to muster to shame.
"I'm not sure what it is that you find so amusing..." he spared a glance at Jesus, who silently mouthed a name, "...Darkseid, is it?"
"Indeed it is. What I find amusing is your self-righteous appeal to 'justice' and 'deliverance,’ when it is clear that no one in this room, including yourself, can provide these things."
Unbidden, Darkseid stepped forward and up to the stage. He turned to view all of those present, extending his muscular arms in a sweeping arc. "None here is capable of rescuing the weak and delivering them from the hand of the wicked." He smiled. "None, that is, save...Darkseid!"
It was Jehovah's turn to laugh. "You? Delivering them from the hand of the wicked? You ARE the hand of the wicked."
"Not so! For where you have placed a curse upon the living, I seek the means to break the curse, to end injustice, to end all suffering. You have cursed the living to freedom! You have cursed them to life! But I, Darkseid, seek the end of freedom! I seek the power of Anti-Life! And when at last I hold the power in my hand, there will be no more wickedness, no want, no suffering, no freedom, no will. All will be Darkseid!"
The crowd began to murmur in an infinite number of voices; the cacophony carried the sounds of anger, amusement, confusion, fear, and, much to Jehovah's annoyance, some amount of agreement.
"You see? This sea of voices, the susurration of discord! This is what I shall remove from the universe! There will be only one voice! MY voice!"
"ENOUGH!"
The room fell silent at the sound of Jehovah's shout. He snapped his fingers and pointed to a pale white figure wearing a green cloak. "Corrigan! Get him out of here!"
The impassive figure moved toward Darkseid, who raised his gloved hand. "I'll find my own way out."
With that, a tremendous BOOM! shattered the silence and a great glowing hole, crackling with energy, appeared in the air behind Darkseid.
The great, stony figure turned towards the opening, but before stepping into it he turned back to face the assembled gods.
"Before I leave, I say, ‘You are gods, children of the Most High, all of you; nevertheless, you shall die like mortals, and fall like any prince.’" He smiled. "And when you do, there will remain only...Darkseid!"
He stepped into the strange tube, which closed with another bone-rattling BOOM!
Jehovah stood in silence amongst the gods, who had once again resumed their murmuring. As he stood impassive in the din, he felt as cold and alone as he had in the time before creation.
"The worst part," he said, to no one in particular, "is that he stole my line about the gods dying like mortals."
Nearby, Orion, the Dog of War, approached Jesus.
"I apologize for my father. If it's any consolation, it's prophesied that one day he may die by my hand." He frowned. "Or I may die by his. The prophecy isn't as clear as I'd like. In any case, I'm sure to deliver a serious beatdown."
"Well," Jesus said, "that's nice, I suppose, but...I'm the Prince of Peace, so thoughts of violence don't really bring me comfort."
Orion seemed taken aback. "Oh. Well...huh."
"One day," Jesus continued, "I will be born as a mortal man on the Earth, and I will be sacrificed to my father to pay for the sins of the world."
There was the sound of metal scraping on metal as Orion scratched his helmeted head. "Yikes. As bad as my father is, he just sent me to be raised on New Genesis. Where will you be staying while you're there?"
"In the land of Israel."
"That shithole? You should come to Supertown instead. The place is amazing." He paused. "Wait...aren't you, like, also your dad? Some sort of trinity thing?"
Jesus nodded. "It's...complicated."
Elsewhere, Rama Kushna approached the green-cloaked figure who had been dispatched by Jehovah to remove Darkseid. "Excuse me, Corrigan, is it?"
The pale figure nodded. "At times. I've also been known as Jordan, and Allen. It's...complicated. I'm not even certain where - or when - I am. To be Corrigan, I'd have to be from...when are we?"
Rama Kushna shrugged. An interesting sight, considering how many arms she had. "This is a timeless place. But back to you...you're an angel, aren't you?"
"In this form, I am an angel merged with the soul of a departed mortal."
"You mean you're...a ghost?"
"Yes. It is how the Almighty bound me to the Earth to serve as the instrument of his vengeance."
Rama Kushna seemed to consider this, stroking her chin with several of her hands. "A ghost. Why didn't I think of that?"

I Don’t Know Either

There’s this thing that pops into my head every so often.  It’s one of those things that is only dimly-recalled, and I’m not actually certain of the source of it, other than that I’m reasonably certain it was in either a comic strip or a comic book.
Basically, someone keeps doing or saying something that a main character finds bothersome, and this continues over the course of an extended period of time, and it leads the main character to proclaim in frustration, “If X does Y one more time, I don’t know what I’ll do!”
Then it happens again and the main character doesn’t do anything, explaining afterwards that, “I said I didn’t know what I’d do.”
I think it’s from an old Peanuts strip in which some kid kept referring to Snoopy as “fuzzy face,” but, again, I only have the dimmest recollection.
In any case, this springs to mind every so often when I find myself in a similar situation, as I typically end up having the same response.
It’s also related to the whole thing where I think, “I can’t take this anymore!”  And then I take some more.

Posted Without Additional Comment

The Inside Of My Head Is A Strange Place

Though I admit that Karen rocks the look.

Some Pictures

I drew a picture of Supergirl flying through the Time Barrier to visit the Legion of Super-Heroes in the 30th Century, mostly in an attempt to experiment with a more traditionally comic style.  This is the result:

Meh.

Anatomy is off, perspective is off, and it’s just generally kind of disappointing given how much time I spent working on it.  But there it is.
I did this as the end result of just doodling with nothing in particular in mind:

Meh.

Looks kind of like the “Precogs” in the movie “Minority Report.”  it started out, as my random doodles usually do, with an eye.  I don’t know why eyes are my go-to doodle, but they are.  So…yeah.

Random Bits Of Randomness

Taxonomy Department:Scott and I have decided that henceforth all movie sequels should follow this naming convention:
If it’s the first sequel, it must be subtitled “Electric Boogaloo.”
If it’s the second sequel (third movie in the series), the subtitle should be the title of the movie with an “ing” added to it.
Examples:  “Taken 2:  Electric Boogaloo”  “Taken 3:  The Takening.”
Moviemakers are free to subtitle any additional sequels however they see fit, because, frankly, who cares after that?  By the time you hit the fourth movie it’s just a phoned-in money grab.
Additionally, subtitling the first sequel “The Wrath of [Title']” is also acceptable.  (“Taken 2:  The Wrath of Taken.”)
This why, even though it was a terrible movie, I want to see sequels for “The Happening,” so that we can see posters for “The Happening 2:  Electric Boogaloo” and “The Happening 3:  The Happeninging.”

In Case You Hadn’t Guessed Department:
Scott and I went to see “Taken 2.*”  I never really tire of watching Liam Neeson kill people with ruthless efficiency.

Less Chat, More Bloodletting Department:Guy Drawing My Blood (GDMB):  You ready for the weekend?
Me:  Sure.
GDMB:  Going to watch any games?
Me:  No.
GDMB:  Going to watch the debate tonight?
Me:  Probably not. (Thinking)  Stop trying to find common ground with me, hu-man.
Certifiably Professional Department:
Another week, another pointless professional certification:  ITIL Intermediate Certificate in Service Transition.
If I collect eight more certifications I can…take another certification exam.

Sounds Like This Guy I Know Department:
(Former) Boss:  He just thinks he’s smarter than everyone else.
Me:  I know someone like that.  In fact, I see him right now, standing there in that mirror in front of me.
Me:  The difference is that the guy in the mirror actually is smarter than everyone else.

I Don’t Know Who I Am Anymore Department:
As can be inferred by the Department above, I had a diabetes check up today.
It was kind of odd – and it feels odd to cite this as an example of it being odd – in that the doctor didn’t really do many of the things he usually does, like feel up my feet.
Normally he does that to test to see if there’s been any loss of sensitivity due to neuropathy.  I kind of dislike it, particularly when he scrapes some sort metal implement along my soles to see if I react.  Naturally, I do, as it’s uncomfortable.  Beyond that, I’m just not particularly fond of having someone touch my feet. 
He also taps a tuning fork and then presses that against my ankles and asks me to tell him when I feel the vibrations stop.
But he didn’t do any of that, and while I certainly didn’t miss it, it seemed odd that he didn’t do it for the first time in the two and a half years that I’ve been going in for check ups.
I suppose that, at this point, given my history, there’s not much need to be concerned about it.  He said, “A lot of people would actually say you’re cured.  I know better than to say that, because it can always pop up again, but you’re in very good shape right now.”
In any case, having fasted the night before, and being in Ashburn, due to a scheduling snafu, I decided to stop somewhere for breakfast/lunch.
There’s a Five Guys near the medical center, so I considered that, but I was in more of a breakfast mood, so I opted instead to stop at the nearby IHOP.
As I looked over some of the decadent menu items – French Toast drizzled with cinnamon roll glaze, for example – I found my eyes gravitating towards one of their healthier, lower-calorie breakfast items, which is what I actually ended up ordering.
As I told Scott, “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
But at least I had a side of bacon, so I’m not a total stranger to myself.

Bad News, Good(?) News Department:
The Bad News:  While I was waiting for the doctor I read an article in a diabetes magazine that said that, thanks to having suffered from diabetes, the odds that I’ll develop some form of dementia when I get older are greatly increased.
The Good News:  Thanks also to the diabetes, my heart will probably give out long before that happens.

*Electric Boogaloo.

Live And Don’t Learn

We have this program of irregularly-scheduled presentations at work called “Lunch and Learn,” during which various people from within the organization I work in give an hour-long talk on a particular topic – generally something related to their work – at lunch time, and lunch is provided for the audience.
Today, I had to give a presentation.  Well, “had to” isn’t really the right way to put it, given that it was my idea to give the presentation in the first place.
In any case, I won’t bore you with the details of the topic – it has to do with my job, so trust me when I say you’d be bored – but I will say that it was generally well-received, and many people commented that it was the best one they’ve ever been to.
So, yay me.
I made the session more interesting by making it interactive, and also by being funny.  I can do that, sometimes.  (This blog notwithstanding)
When I started things off, I introduced myself and said, “Those of you who know me may be surprised to learn that I do actually talk.  Those of you who don’t know me may be surprised to learn that I exist.”

****

At some point in the morning, someone asked me, “Are you ready for your Lunch and Learn?”  Before I could respond, someone else said, “He’s going to do a Live and Learn.”
I said, “No, it’s more like a Live and Don’t Learn.”

****

Boss:  …and I’m a lot younger than you are.
Me:  You’re not a lot younger than I am.
Boss:  I didn’t mean it like that.
Me:  How else could you mean it?
Boss:  Not that way.

****

Co-Worker:  Do you get nervous when you have to talk in front of a bunch of people?
Me:  No.  I used to, but not anymore.
Co-Worker:  What changed?
Me:  I stopped caring.

(Or as I put it to someone else with less sensitive ears, “How nervous I get is directly proportionate to the number of fucks I give.”)

****

Somewhere along the line they stopped ordering pizza for the Lunch and Learn sessions and started ordering other kinds of foods.  Today it was a huge multi-section sub.  I wasn’t really in the mood for that, so I didn’t have any.
I didn’t really have time to eat anyway, as I was going to be presenting.
When I got home, I still had pizza on the brain, and, because I’ve started up on the Captain America workout, I’m supposed to be eating more, so I decided to order a pizza.
It arrived quickly.  So quickly, in fact, that in their haste to deliver it, they didn’t so much slice the pizza as merely threaten it with something sharp.

****

The Lunch and Learn experience reminded me of something that happened years ago when I worked at AOL and my then-boss made me conduct a training session for my peers.
After it was over, she told me, “I’m so happy you did that!  Now everyone knows that you’re funny!”

****

While we were waiting for our flight out of Austin the other week, I noticed this attractive young woman who had what I can only describe as a great “look.”
It was what I would call a “modern alt-model retro pin-up look,” which I realize probably only makes sense in my head, but there you go.
The look was evocative of what are known as Rat Rod Girls, though the look was bit less…well, I don’t want to say “trashy,” but…I suppose I should say a bit more sophisticated.  Also, she didn’t appear to have any tats (visible ones, at any rate), so she wasn’t quite what comes to mind when I think “alt-model,” but I suppose it was just that she was thoroughly modern in terms of the way she was dressed, but the flower in her hair and her shoes gave her a sort of vintage look at the same time.
The way she was sitting, and her features, added to the effect.
As mentioned, she had a flower in her hair, and she was wearing a tight pink tank top, and a short, pink skirt – with a substantial slit up the side – paired with a gray hoodie.
Given that I was with my VP and other people from work, I didn’t want to just walk up to her and say, “You have a great look, and I would love to draw you,” but at the same time, I did want to do that.
Ultimately, even if I’d been there by myself, I doubt that I would have, because I can’t imagine any non-creepy way to do something like that.

Randomness

Me:  I’m trying to do heavier weights this time.  So I was pretty worn out by the time I got to the last set on the close-grip bench press after doing 30 reps each of the incline bench press and dumbbell flies.
Scott:  Weight lifting nerd.

****

While standing in front of the hotel smoking a cigarette in Austin, I saw an expensive car – I don’t remember what kind – pull up, and out of the passenger side stepped a young, hot blonde in heels and a skintight, satiny little black dress.
She noticed me noticing her, and, I assume because she likes being noticed and not because of anything about me personally, she smiled.
Out of the driver side stepped a much older, short, schlubby, fat guy in a baggy Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts with a thick New York accent.
Ah, I thought.  I see.
I was curious as to whether she was local talent, or if she had actually been his travelling companion – travelling as his “niece,” I should think – and as they approached so that the man could smoke a cigarette, I caught snatches of their conversation which seemed to be centered around the foolish excess of some time of especially expensive car.
While they stood there, another “uncle and his niece” approached – though this one was slightly less mismatched, as neither the man nor the woman were as far towards the extreme ends of relative attractiveness as the first two – the schlubby guy said to the less-schlubby guy, “This girl is telling me that the guy who’s takin’ her to the Hamptons wants to pick her up in a McLaren.”
At that point, as I finished my cigarette, I thought, “I kind of want to be rich.”

****

In Austin, we stayed at a Westin, and while I was on a lower floor than my VP, and the Director accompanying us, I was on the “Executive Level.”
…
It was a very nice hotel.
In Syracuse, we stayed at a Hilton, and I have to say that, while nice, it was kind of a letdown after the Westin.  (“Really?  Only one queen-size bed in my room?”)
(See Also:  Rich, I kind of want to be)

****

One of the cool/nerdy features of my room at the Westin was this little media panel on the desk that featured HDMI inputs for the TV, power outlets, and a USB power outlet.

****

Much like the man’s “niece” noticed me noticing her, throughout the course of the trip at the various dinners and “nightcap” sessions we had, I couldn’t help noticing that my VP and the Director were noticing that I consistently abstained from drinking.
They didn’t say anything, but I could see the wheels spinning, and I can’t help but wonder what they were thinking.
I’m not ashamed of being a recovering alcoholic, and it’s not something I hide, but I don’t exactly announce it either, but I do, on occasions such as that, find myself curious as to what people make of my teetotaler ways.

****

(While having lunch)
Boss:  Jon…what is your IQ?
Me:  I have no idea.
Boss:  It has to be way up there.  Like, the 160s, at least.
Me:  (Shrug)  I’ve never seen any kind of records or anything, so I have no clue.

While it’s not an actual measure of IQ, I know that, in most subjects, in standardized aptitude tests I pretty consistently scored at levels several grades higher than whatever grade I was in at the time.  I remember scoring at a 12th grade level in several subjects on some test I took when I was in 7th grade.
What does any of that mean?  I don’t know.  Nothing, I suppose, all things considered, but it’s really the only gauge I have to go by.
The only other thing that really comes to mind about my IQ was that there was some person who worked for the state who came to our house to assess my developmental progress a few times before I started kindergarten, and he was less than impressed by my cognitive abilities.
So…yeah.  Like I said, I have no idea.
If I had to guess – and, really, it doesn’t matter enough, if it matters at all, that I’m required to guess – I would place it lower than the 160s  Probably 140s, at best.
When I was in college, I took a Psychology class that had a lab component (to fulfill the lab requirement), and in one of our lab sessions we had to take a mock IQ test.
I forget the details of the experiment, but the whole point of it had something to do with designing a test that’s more or less guaranteed to provide the results you’re hoping to achieve.  In this case, the hoped-for results were scores that followed the standard bell curve, thus there was a built-in bias in the test to ensure, to the greatest extent possible, that the scores would be distributed in such a fashion.
That did, in fact, end up being the case, with the one outlier being an IQ score that was far outside the expected range.
I don’t remember what my score was – and, again, the test’s methodology was flawed – but I was the outlier, and my score was much, much higher than anyone else’s.  I don’t remember what it was, however, and, once again, it wouldn’t have been a reliable indicator anyway.  I just remember being amused by the professor’s surprise that there was a score that fell so far outside of the predicted range.

****

The reason my IQ came up – it wasn’t just completely out of the blue – is that I was telling her about the time I had eye surgery when I was four (I was born with excess tissue on my eye that caused it to turn in towards my nose; the surgery was to remove that) and how I remembered being prepped for surgery and the snarky comments* the people in the room were making about the surgeon prior to his arrival.  They didn’t seem to realize that I understood their sarcasm.
That I remembered the events** – and understood the snarkiness – at such a young age, was what prompted the question.

****

I kind of want to write a semi-detailed review of The Dark Knight Rises, but I’d also like to take in another viewing of it before doing so.  I meant to over the past week, but never had the time.
I will say that, in short, I enjoyed it a great deal, and that it did manage to live up to expectations.
Better than The Dark Knight?  Well…certainly it was lacking the stellar performances of Heath Ledger and Aaron Eckhart, which can’t help but detract from the film slightly, but…I’m not sure.  Most people would probably say that no, it’s not, and personally I’m leaning in that direction, but I haven’t fully decided yet.
I will say this much:  I was very, very pleasantly surprised by Anne Hathaway.  I like her in general, but I wasn’t thrilled when she was cast as Selina Kyle/Catwoman, but, appropriately enough, given the nature of her character, she managed to steal the movie.  Excellent job, and one that actually makes up for the godawful Halle Berry movie, and the regrettable version portrayed by Michelle Pfeiffer in Button’s piece of crap.

****

If nothing else, the Nolan movies have managed to really shift the public’s image of Batman away from the 1960s’ TV show in a pretty dramatic fashion and to a much greater extent than anything that came before, which, in my mind, would make them worthwhile even if they weren’t also excellent films.
That being said, prior to TDKR there was a teaser trailer for next year’s Superman movie, The Man of Steel.  From what little of it we actually got to see, there are elements that look promising, but I’m not especially hopeful for a Superman movie (or movie franchise) that can have a similar effect on the public’s conception of the character.
It just annoys me – Superman has been around for 75 years, has been adapted into every other form of media imaginable, is one of the most recognized and well-known fictional characters in history, and yet, despite that, all anyone can seem to focus on are those two hours from 1978.

****

…and I actually meant to post this nearly a week ago, so I guess I’ll finally get around to it now.

*They kept referring to him as “Dr. Savior,” which was a play on his similar-sounding last name, and his apparent – in their view, at least – God Complex.  This did not exactly fill me with confidence, despite the fact that, prior to going in, as my mother is so fond of telling and re-telling me, I had said, “Don’t cry, momma; Jesus won’t let anything bad happen to me.”

**I also remember the experience of being put under; everything around me seemed to be moving in slow motion, and the voices of the people talking sounded like a 78 being played at 45 speed, then everything just went black.  The next thing I remember is waking up in my hospital bed and having to pee, and being offered a bedpan, which I refused, and then my dad helped me walk to the bathroom.

License To Hurt

I was in a training class for most of the week at work – though because I still went in at my usual time, I had hours in which to get work done before class started each day, so I probably still managed to get more work done than many people who weren’t in training – learning all about Business Process Analysis.
More importantly, I was earning PDUs to apply towards maintaining my PMP certification.
In any case, on the second day of class, having deduced the pattern of breaks, after completing work on a group exercise, a co-worker and I decided to head out for a smoke break.
One of the people in my group, upon hearing that, turned to me and said, incredulously, “You still smoke?”
I nodded my assent, and she said, “I had no idea – I never smell it on you.”
”Well, I never smoke inside, so it doesn’t really cling to me.”
Someone else said, “But I’ve been on the elevator with people who just came in from smoking and I can smell it on them, but she’s right; I never smell it on you.”
I shrugged.  “Well, I try to do what I can to minimize the smell because when you smoke people think that gives them a license to hurt your feelings and that they can just freely tell you what a smelly, disgusting piece of garbage they think you are.”

****

Scott:  Have you ever counted the number of devices you have?  In this room alone you’ve got four display devices if you count your phone.
(Note:  No, I haven’t.  I have a lot.)

****

As I continue to slog my way through Showcase Presents:  Young Love Vol. 1, I find myself increasingly annoyed by my inability to identify the real person that Mary Robin, RN, was modeled on.  She’s very clearly based on an actress of the time (the early 1960s), and I can almost picture her, but no name is forthcoming.  I may have to scan an image and post it here for assistance in the identification, as I can’t find any images of her online that show Mary clearly enough for anyone to spot the resemblance.  (Sometimes she looks a little like Connie Hines from Mr. Ed, but that’s not who I’m thinking of.)
What’s also interesting is that there’s a story that features a girl who was very clearly modeled on Ann-Margret, and the primary plot of the story is how much our young heroine resembles a famous (fictional) movie star.

****

Oscar Mayer Cracked Black Pepper Turkey Breast has become my new favorite thing lately.

Saturday Randomness

Earlier, as it was a nice day and, being Jon, I had nothing better to do, I decided to go for a walk.
In the course of my walking I eventually found myself – again, being Jon, having nothing better to do – idly wandering around an all-but deserted Office Depot.
I saw something that I briefly considered buying, but, given that I didn’t need it and could easily find it much cheaper online if I ever did need it, decided against it, and decided that it was time to make the trek home.
However, I decided that, because I didn’t feel like going anywhere else and I was there, I would grab something to drink on the walk home from the cooler near the register.  With limited options, I went with a diet iced tea.
I got up to the register, and the unhappy older man working there scanned it, grunted, then looked over to the desk where people picked up print orders and whatnot, where two other employees were standing around chatting.
”Pat,” the man said, holding up the bottle, “this one never scans.”
The other man – “Pat,” apparently – said, with a certain amount of disdain, “Just scan something else. They all cost the same.”
The man grunted, walked out from behind the counter and over to the cooler, and spent far more time than was necessary trying to pick something to scan, and I stood there thinking, “Of course this is what happens.”
Eventually, the man came back, pushed the bottle towards me, and said, “Take it.”
”Er, what?" I said.
”I don’t want to do that,” he said.  Then he mumbled something that ended with, “customer service,” and said, “Just take it.”

****

Last night I was sitting around watching some show about supermassive black holes on Science Channel, because of course that’s what I was doing on a Friday night, and just idly flipping around through applications and settings on my cell phone.
Out of curiosity, I hit the “search” button and entered, “Why do I suck?”  This brought up results that included an online quiz titled, “Why do you suck so bad?”
Lacking anything better to do (See “Jon, Being”), I decided to take the quiz.  The results stated that I suck because I’m boring.
I said, “I could have told you that.”

****

As boring as I may be, as I went out for my walk and noticed all of the neighborhood kids idly sitting around on the big rocks lining the cul-de-sac, or riding their bikes in circles, I thought, “At least I have a little more excitement in my life than that.”

****

Last week, inspired by multiple viewings of The Avengers, I started on a four-week exercise program based on the program that actor Chris Evans followed to get in shape for his role as Captain America.
After the first day, I found myself wishing that I could just get a shot of the Super Soldier Serum and be done with it.  I’d even be willing to do without the “Vita Rays” that were an essential part of that fictitious program, the lack of which ultimately causes recipients of the serum to go insane.
It’s a pretty intense and difficult workout.  I take some comfort from the fact that the majority of the (extreme) pain resulting from it is muscle pain rather than joint and ligament pain, which indicates that at least I’m probably not doing more harm than good.
I’m setting my expectations pretty low.  Certainly I don’t expect to end up looking as good as Evans, given that I’m a much smaller person than he is and that he was already in much, much better shape than I am before he went through the program.
Even so, I’ve already noticed some amount of benefit from it.  Not so much in terms of size, but in terms of firmness.  At least, once I press through the doughy layer of permaflab and get to the actual muscles located far below the surface…

****

Each day of the program – four days on, three days off – involves a series of one hour and fifteen minute-long workouts, with an hour of that devoted to resistance training and the final fifteen devoted to cardio.
By the time I climb onto the elliptical for the cardio portion, I’m drenched in sweat and pretty well exhausted, and I think, “You know, I could probably afford to go a little easy on the cardio.  Maybe just do ten minutes, or reduce my speed and the resistance level.”  Then I think, “No.  My stupid body needs to learn who’s in charge here, and it has to know that it can’t expect mercy.”
To drive the point home, I sometimes go for more than fifteen minutes.
Of course, the end result is that getting back upstairs, removing my sweat-soaked workout gear, and engaging in simple tasks like washing my hair become a challenge, as I have very little strength left, and throughout the day, I move with the speed and grace of Tim Conway’s old man character.

****

Oddly enough, one of the more difficult aspects of the workout program is that I have to eat a lot more than I usually do.  Given how much I’ve restricted my diet over the past two years, it’s been a bit of an adjustment, and I’ve been making up for my lack of appetite by seriously increasing my intake of protein supplements.
I had briefly considered following the workout that Robert Downey, Jr. followed to get in shape for his role as Iron Man, but that involved taking in over 5,000 calories a day.  No way in hell.

****

The other strange thing has been that I’ve been getting a lot more sleep than usual.  All week long I got at least eight hours each night.  It’s bizarre.
And, given how ridiculously early I get up in the morning, it means that I’ve been going to bed shortly after I get home from work, which only serves to make me even more boring.

Quick Bits Of Randomness

(At a meeting)
Project Manager:  She’s kind of a Jack-of-All-Trades.   Well, I guess I should say Jackie-of-All-Trades.
Me:  Just so long as she isn’t a Jackée-of-All-Trades – I don’t think the position really calls for that level of sassiness.
All:  [Crickets]

*Sigh*  Nobody gets me.

****

Every so often I think to myself, “You should probably try to stop hating everyone so much.  It doesn’t do any good, and it’s probably not healthy.”
Then I end up having to drive to work in the rain, and as I see people panicking as though the Zombie Apocalypse has broken out, it’s like the Emperor is in the car with me saying, “Good. Use your aggressive feelings, boy. Let the hate flow through you”

****

Boss:  Sarcasm isn’t the way to deal with conflict.
Me:  Sure it is.
Boss:  …okay, it’s our way, but…

****

Thursday will find me and Scott sitting in a theater from 11:30 AM until sometime in the wee hours on Friday morning as we enjoy the Ultimate Marvel Marathon.
…
*Ahem*
NERDS!!!

****

I have ideas.
A lot of ideas. 
Far too many ideas.
If there’s one thing I don’t lack, it’s ideas.
What I do lack, however, is the willingness and/or ability to do anything with these ideas.
I’ve come to think of myself as an Idea Graveyard, and I find myself, like the voices in the head of Ed O’Neil in Wayne’s World 2, wondering, “Why do they come to me to die?  Why do they come to me to die?”

****

Of the assorted animals that seem drawn to my yard for no apparent reason, the rabbits are pretty much the only ones that haven’t annoyed me.
I mean, I don’t grow any vegetables or anything, so, Watership Down aside, who could have anything against rabbits?
Except that their presence also seems to draw the attention of children who will run around in my yard attempting to catch said rabbits, and drawing me inexorably towards the day when I open my door and yell, “Hey!  You kids!  Get off my lawn!”

****

Last week there was a “Health and Wellness Fair” at work.  I hadn’t intended to go to it, but at one point my boss – who is on the Health and Wellness Committee and was working one of the tables – texted me and asked me if I wanted to get my blood pressure, BMI, and body fat checked out.
As I had an informally-scheduled discussion with someone about metrics coming up in the next few minutes – a discussion I wanted to avoid because metrics –  I decided that there was nothing I would like more, and so I headed down for it.
Unsurprisingly, my blood pressure was fine.
However, I got conflicting information from the BMI and body fat results.  According to my BMI, I’m overweight, but my body fat percentage – about 19% – put me in the “Good” range.
According to the BMI chart, my ideal weight would be around 120 pounds.
…
Currently, I weigh somewhere around 165 pounds. 
I have a 29 inch waist.
Because I’m short, that makes it exceedingly difficult to find pants that fit properly – when you’re this short, you’re supposed to have a much wider waist, apparently.  I can’t even find a belt that’s designed for anything smaller than a 32 inch waist.
Years ago, I weighed around 140 pounds – which would put me on the high end of the optimal BMI range – and I had a 27 inch waist.
I think I’m going to pay more attention to what the body fat percentage says than what the BMI says, at least if I ever want to wear clothes…

Cinnamon Mist

After coming back inside from smoking a cigarette, I opted to get all of my vitamins and supplements for the week ready, and while I was putting them into their assorted pill caddies, I realized that I hadn’t taken any of them today.
So I did that, then headed back upstairs and sat down to do some drawing.
While I was sitting there drawing, I burped.  That’s hardly unusual, especially considering that I had eaten dinner about a half an hour earlier.
What was unusual, however, was the smoke that the belch produced.
”Wait a minute…it’s been at least a good twenty minutes since I smoked a cigarette…the hell?”
Then the cinnamon flavor kicked in, and I realized that it wasn’t smoke, but rather a cinnamon mist.
Apparently when I took my supplements one of the cinnamon capsules got stuck in my throat, where the coating slowly dissolved, leading to my “smoky” belch.
Just thought I share that bit of weirdness.

Friday Night Randomness

Last night, being Thursday, was movie night for Scott and me.
Shortly after he left, I tended to the things I needed to tend to, then got into bed.
After a few minutes my phone rang.
I have a cordless phone for my landline that’s Bluetooth-enabled, which allows it to connect to my cell phone, so I can make and receive cell phone calls via my regular landline phone.  I could see that the call was originating from my cell, and with those calls, all that gets passed along to the Caller ID display is the number.  I looked to see if it was from Michigan, as my first assumption upon getting a call that late, if it isn’t a wrong number, is that it’s my sister calling to tell me that my mom is in the hospital.  (Not that I’m trying to jinx things, but…well, I’ve gotten quite a few calls like that.)
When I saw that it was a Virginia area code, I thought, “Okay, either it’s a wrong number or Scott had some kind of trouble on his way home.”
It was not, unfortunately, a wrong number.
It was Stacy calling to inform me that she believes that Scott and I are cursed, as he got hit by a snow plow on the way home.  (He was, at last report, a bit stiff and sore, but not injured.  The same, of course, can’t be said for his car…)

****

I spent a fair amount of time at work this week consolidating four separate SharePoint lists into one SharePoint list.
It was exactly as exciting as it sounds.
In any case, the point of it all was to refine the intake process for our team, and while I was at it I thought I’d also refine our impact assessment list, our project tracking list, and our zzzzzzzzz
*Snort*  Huh?
Oh.
Anyway, at the risk* of causing everyone – myself included – to doze off again, I also created a risk register to accompany the intake form and etc..
Actually, more than anything else, the risk register is what motivated me to consolidate the four lists into one, as the addition of the risk register would have added yet another separate list for us to fill out, because there was no way to incorporate it into what was already in place.  So even though I added a new list, thanks to the consolidation, there was still a net decrease in the total number of lists.  So, go me!
(My boss said, “You’re amazing.  Next time I’ll let you pick out your own Christmas present.”  Given that she gave me a gift certificate, I said, “I pretty much did this time anyway.”)
In any case, in testing out the new list, I created a sample project called “The Call of Cthullu.”  The description of the project read, "In his house at R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming,” and added, “Ia! Ia! Cthulhu Fhtagn!”
In the associated risk register, I listed the primary risk as “Being devoured by Cthullu,” and for the risk response, I put, “There is no response – we’ll all be eaten.”
When I was showing the new list and risk register to my boss and my co-worker – who’s also my cube neighbor – my boss laughed as she read through the sample project and said, “You’re an idiot.”  She then turned to my co-worker and said, “Does he just sit here giggling all day?”

****

(Standing around looking like my normal self, which apparently to others looks like..honestly, I don’t know what it looks like, but “normal” for me appears to be dour and/or suicidal or something.)
Co-Worker:  Jon?  Are you all right?
Me:  Hm?  Yeah, I’m fine.
Co-Worker:  Is everything okay?
Me:  Yes, why?
Co-Worker:  You aren’t smiling.
Me:  Well, things aren’t that okay.

****

Yesterday I woke up on my own five minutes before my alarm could go off.  I turned the alarm off to keep it from sounding (or rather, playing music) while I was out of the room.
I forgot to turn it back on, so this morning I overslept.  However, when you normally get up at 4 AM, “oversleeping” means still being up well before the sun, and getting to work two hours before everyone else.
But this is Northern Virginia, so it still means having to deal with a lot of traffic.

****

Co-Worker 1:  It’s such a 90s way of thinking.
Co-Worker 2:  You say that like the 90s were a long time ago.
Me:  Uhh…it’s 2012.

****

Fred “Slacktivist” Clark comments on a piece by the public editor of The New York Times which contains this:

I’m looking for reader input on whether and when New York Times news reporters should challenge “facts” that are asserted by newsmakers they write about.

As I said in the Comments section:

This...this is an example of exactly the sort of illogical statement you would make in a bad sci-fi story to cause a robot's head to explode.

****

Boss:  Thanks, Jon.  You saved my ass on this.
Me:  I know.
Boss:  “I know.”  Jackass.
Me:  You’re welcome.

****

And finally, my sister Kristy turned 50 today.  So, first of all, happy birthday, of course (and also to her husband Ken, whose birthday is also today), but second of all…well, before that quote about whether or not reporters should investigate “facts” could do it, that realization made my head asplode.
*Get it?  Risk?  ‘Cause I was talking about a risk register and…shut up.

Black Friday Randomness

On Tuesday before I left work I employed the "hovering" tactic on my boss before I left, which entails just kind of hanging out until she tells me what I want to hear.  In this case it was, "You might as well just take tomorrow off."
So far, with both this boss and my former boss, I believe the "hovering" approach has had a 100% success rate in either getting me what I want, whether it's permission to leave early or to not come in to work on the day before a holiday.
So, having Wednesday off, and knowing that, while it would still be bad - the zombie hordes already began descending on any and all retail outlets last weekend - going out into the world would be less bothersome on Wednesday than it would be on Saturday, I went out to do my grocery and comic shopping.
At the comic shop one of the customers asked about Black Friday deals, and the guy working there told him that the shop would be e-mailing special Friday offers to customers that evening.
When it came time for me to pay for my stack, he said, "We have your e-mail on file, right?"  I said, "Probably, but it doesn't matter - I don't go anywhere on Black Friday."
In the alternative, I considered saying, "E...mail?" and looking completely bewildered.

****

While I don't - and didn't - go anywhere on Black Friday, I did look at some of the online deals.  For the most part I wasn't impressed.
I did, however, very briefly toy with the notion of buying the Acer Iconia from the Microsoft Store, which was selling it at a steep - $400 off - discount.
I have to admit that I was tempted, not because I really need it, or even want it all that much, but simply because, well, as a concept, at least, it's pretty cool.
Mostly it reminds me of the late, lamented Courier concept that Microsoft so cruelly and unwisely killed before it even got out of the gate.  Seriously, Microsoft, I would have thrown money at you if you'd actually made the thing:




Anyway, I soon decided against buying it, despite the coolness, because, as mentioned, I don't have any particular need for it, it's far too bulky, its battery life is pathetic, and it doesn't have an active digitizer, which means that I wouldn't be able to use it like a portable Cintiq, which is the main thing I want in a tablet.
My current Tablet PC can, in theory, behave in that fashion, but in practice, setting aside the fact that the N-Trig digitizer seldom works at all, it never offered pressure-sensitivity (even it claims to do so).
At some point in the new year, I will most likely pick up a Samsung Series 7 Slate, which has a Wacom digitizer (same company that makes the Cintiq), and Samsung has stated that they intend to make it upgradeable to Windows 8.  In fact, it's been used as the reference machine for the Developer Preview of the next version of Windows.

****

I probably really ought to be working on my novel if I want to achieve my goal of actually finishing the thing - as opposed to simply achieving the 50,000 word challenge, which I've already done - before NaNoWriMo draws to a close, but...ehh.
I also ought to be finishing up the Heroic Portraits order that my boss placed (it's essentially done; I'm making some decisions about whether or not I want to make some additions before sending her the proof), or working on the standing, "no rush, just in time for one of the holidays" order I have from someone else.
And today I just got a challenging request from my friend Jamie which I should probably start on, but...again, ehh.

Hacking My Own Brain And Random Departments

The other day, Friday by Rebecca Black (no link provided because I’m not that cruel) popped into Scott’s head, and, because that’s how the sickness works, he tried to pass it along to me via IM.
However, with considerable effort – I commented that I thought I’d burned over a thousand calories from the act of concentration – I managed to prevent it from infecting me.
I accomplished it by voluntarily getting the song Like a Stone by Audioslave stuck in my head:



The reason that this worked is that, while I kind of like the song, I don’t really know it that well, and, while I hate Friday, I do, unfortunately, know it well.
This was the key to keeping young Miss Black out of my head, as I know that, when presented an option, my brain will always go with the song I don’t know very well, as I tend to find it more irritating to have a song – even one I that I like – that I don’t know playing over and over again in my head, even when the alternative is much, much more annoying.
Scott described it as “hacking my own brain.”  I pointed out that it’s just a matter of having learned a few tricks in the nearly four decades that I’ve spent living with the thing.

A New (Old) Department Department:
After more than a year after mentioning that it was coming, and then never officially talking about it again, we recently had a reorg at work.  Because they decided that the employee opinion survey-identified goal of improved communication is something that they’re going to work on for what remains of the year – and also because I’m reasonably certain they had no idea what they were doing – our managers were provided with virtually no details about what was coming beyond a vague guess as to when.
Naturally, the rumors started swirling, because, as much as executives hate to have rumors circulating, it never occurs to them that there’s a very effective method for stopping the rumors before they start.  (Hint:  It’s not keeping everything top secret and flat-out refusing to answer direct questions.)
For a while it seemed as though some major changes were in store for me – though I was assured that my neck wasn’t on the chopping block – such as being moved to a completely different department.  This was a bummer, as it meant that I’d be losing out on having the great boss I’ve had for over a year and a half.
However, at the last minute, those plans changed, and the end result is that not much of anything is changing for me.  Same job, same boss, but she’ll have a different boss, and our team is undergoing yet another name change.
I did, however, lose some team members – who performed an entirely different function from whatever the hell it is that I do – as they got moved to a different manager, and three entirely new (to us) people are joining the team, presumably to the same thing that I do, whatever the hell that may be.
In the announcement that went out, the names of the five people who will now be reporting to my boss were called out, and while it wasn’t an alphabetical listing of names, there did seem to be some kind of order in how the names were listed, which made me take note of the fact that my name was listed dead last.
I copied that bit out of the announcement and e-mailed it to my boss – who was on vacation – with the subject line “Well, at least I know my place…” and said, “Whoo!  I’m Number 5!  I’m Number 5!”  (I also told her that I was glad that she was still the boss.)
She replied that maybe “5 is the new 1.”
Like I said, I’m glad she’s still the boss…
Ultimately I can’t complain too much, as this is still much better than some of the rumored changes, and while my neck was, apparently, never in any danger, there were a lot of other necks that ended up on the chopping block.

The Key Takeaway Department:
(In briefly explaining the history of the Java programming language to someone much, much younger than I am at work, I realize that I’m talking about things that happened when she was still in grade school.)
Me:  …anyway, the key takeaway from all of this is that I’m old.

Life Expectations Department:
Some things I – perhaps foolishly – expected to see in my lifetime:
Humanoid household robots
Off-world colonies
Cold fusion
The discovery of extraterrestrial life

Something I never expected to see in my life:
A Captain America movie that’s even halfway decent

The jury is still out on some of those expectations, but today I learned that I was wrong about the Captain America movie.  Not just wrong:  dead wrong.  Captain America:  The First Avenger is excellent.  I couldn’t have – and didn’t – hoped for a better Cap movie.

Well, That Certainly Was A Story...

Last week when I was making my usual Saturday venture out into the world I stopped at the bank to cash in some change, as the urn I toss change in was getting sufficiently heavy that I was wondering how much that would amount to.
There was a cute-ish - and extremely exuberant - teller working there when I brought over the slip from the machine (customers can cash in change for free).
She looked at me and then said, "So are you into comics or is that just a shirt?"
My first thought was, "What shirt am I wearing?"  After surreptitiouisly looking down to see that I was wearing the shirt with the old Action Comics cover on it that I got from Scott and Stacy for my birthday a while back, I said, "Oh, um, I'm into comics."  (Of course, regardless of the shirt I was wearing I should have just said that anyway.)
Thinking, "Hey, maybe this can be one of those opportunities to have a conversation with an attractive woman that I almost never get," I started to add, "In fact, after this I'm going over to the - "
Before I could finish, she burst in with, "Oh my god!  The other day?  This guy came in wearing a Lady Gaga shirt!"
"Huh," I said, as I watched the opportunity evaporate.
"He said he's got all kinds of Lady Gaga stuff, and that he's so into her that his friends all call him 'Gaga.'"
"Huh."
"Isn't that crazy?  I mean, a guy who's that into Lady Gaga?" 
"Well, people are into all kinds of things, I guess."  Meanwhile I was thinking, "Cool story, bro."
She nodded slowly, as though I had said something profound, then handed me my receipt and said,  "Well, have a nice day!"
And that was that.
They say "Opportunity only knocks once," but apparently if you open the door you'll find that it's just there to tell you about some random guy who likes Lady Gaga.
(And yes, I do realize that this post in and of itself falls under the heading of "Cool story, bro.")
(Also, the change amounted to $82.04.)

It's Funny Because People Don't Know How To Spell

I was watching TV the other day and this commercial came on for some sort of parenting self-help program.  The woman who develooped the program talks aobut behavioral problems/changes with children, and asks, "Has your child become defiant?"
Given how often I see this particular misspelling, I said, to no one, "The kid probably isn't actually defiant; he or she probably just doesn't know how to spell definite."
Then I laughed.
Then I thought about how there was no one else around to be amused by my witticisim.
Then I realized that no one would have been amused anyway.
So naturally I posted it here...

Departmental Listings

I’m Not Very Good At This “Time Off” Thing Department:

(The Time:  Last Week.  The Location:  My Director’s Office.)
Director:  Jon, you’re doing a great job.  (Grabs some sort of Post-It Note and begins writing)
Me:  Er, okay…
My Boss:  That’s right; we give out coupons now.
Me:  (Thinking) This better not be a coupon for a free hug.
Director:  What do you want?  Do you want to go to lunch?
My Boss:  Give him a half a day off.
Director:  (Frowns)  Which one do you want?
Me:  (Gives him the “Is that a serious question"?” look.)  Well, food doesn’t really mean that much to me…
My Boss:  Did you know he’s completely off meds now?  Totally controlling his diabetes with diet and exercise.
My Director:  Really?  That’s great.
My Boss:  We’re so proud of him.
Director.  (Faux-grudgingly writes out coupon entitling me to a half a day off)  Keep up the good work.
The Post-It Note coupon has pictures of puzzle pieces and the words “You’re an essential piece” on it.

***

(The Time:  Earlier This Week.  The Location:  My Boss’ Office.)
Me:  I’m going to redeem my coupon on Thursday, since I don’t have anything going on that day.
My Boss:  Okay.
…
Somehow, despite taking half a day off, I still ended up putting in 45 hours at work this week.  I don’t think I quite have the hang of this whole “taking time off” thing.  I can’t even properly take advantage of “Summer Hours,” which allow us to leave work at 3 on Fridays, as I somehow still end up putting in over 8 and a half hours on Fridays even though I do actually leave at 3.
Speaking Of Diet And Exercise Department:

Nurse:  (Informing me of the results of my blood test)  The doctor says that your cholesterol is good, and that your blood sugar is “almost perfect.”

Swinging The Pendulum Too Far In The Opposite Direction Department:

For years it’s been my belief that a woman flirting with me is something that can’t occur in nature.  I have thought, though, that if I’m mistaken in this belief it’s possible that this has led to a kind of cluelessness that has led to missed opportunities.
Lately, as I look in the mirror and consider the dramatic impact that diet and exercise have had on my body – beyond simply allowing me to kick diabetes’ ass – I’ve thought, “Well, maybe it’s possible that some women, sometimes, are possibly flirting with me, at least a little.”
Now, however, I’m beginning to think that perhaps the pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction and I’m starting to overestimate my appeal, as I find myself thinking, “Is..is she flirting with me?” during pretty much every interaction I have with a woman.

Conversations At Work Department:

Contractor:  I want you to give me feedback.
Me:  Okay.
Contractor:  Honest feedback.  Don’t sugarcoat it.
Me:  Yeah…that…that won’t be a problem for me.

****

Me: Okay, well, I'll leave you interns to talk amongst yourselves.
Intern: You know we're just going to talk about you when you're gone, right?
Me: Well, that will be a pretty boring conversation, then. I'm glad I won't be here for it.

****

(My Director asks me to do something for our VP)
Me:  Okay…but, out of curiosity, what sort of Satanic purpose could this possibly serve?
Director:  I don’t know.  It falls under the category of “Okay, boss.”
Me:  Well, it does for me, too, but…seriously?
Director:  Yeah, I know.

****

Co-Worker:  I’ve got a meeting at 9, and then I’ll get you my weekly accomplishments after that.
My Boss:  Jon sent me his at like 8:30 last night.  (To me)  See?  I told you that you didn’t have to worry about it and that you could have waited until this morning.
Co-Worker:  Trying to be an overachiever?
Me:  No, I’m just trying to make everyone else look bad.
My Boss:  It’s working.

Good News/Bad News Department:

Good News:  My department had a logo design contest and I won!
Bad News:  Afterwards it was discovered that corporate policy prohibits internal groups from having their own logo.
Good News:  I’m still entitled to the prize:  an iPod Nano.
Bad News:  I already have an iPod Touch that I rarely use, so the pride of having my design featured on our departmental Web site and emblazoned on shirts, mugs, and other items would have meant a lot more to me.