They're Gonna Give Daddy the Rainman Suite!

This past weekend I went to Atlantic City for the first time.

Pause. I just noticed that I'm working my way up the casino prestige ladder. I first went to a casino in Biloxi, Mississippi, then it was off to Atlantic City, next stop should be Vegas followed by Monte Carlo. Resume.

I'm not a big gambler, I never really cared because I always knew that the odds were greater that I would lose more money than gain. (See what I just did there?) If I did gamble, it was small time and only with money that I could handle loosing. So when The Lady expressed that we go, I was a little skeptical, but I said yes. All in all we only lost about $20, so it was a good day. The kicker came at the Blackjack table.

I have never played Blackjack outside of my friend's kitchen table. I know the basic rules, but I haven't a clue about the strategy. However, I always had a James Bond fantasy to sit at a table and play some cards, so we did. After finding the lowest minimum table we could find ($10) we sat down and placed our bet. The first couple hands were OK; mostly because the dealer did the math for me. Then the dealer instructed me on how to "properly" signal to hit or stay. Well I didn't hear him and the guy across the table decided to yell it. Fucker. Fine. I learned. Then the guy starts bitching about when I'm hitting or staying. Shut the hell up. It's my money. I played my $60 and left.

I'm not really mad at the guy or the dealer or anyone. It was simply more embarrassing than anything. I've decided that it won't happen again either. I found a few websites that I can practice and learn the strategies. Who knew that the game with the least amount of cards could be so complicated? Oh well, I'll be ready for Monte Carlo in about six months, give or take a few.

1995

This was my theme song when I heard it. Plus, it was from the era that rappers were good for shooting each other. Even Mom could listen to this one.

Skee-Lo - I Wish | Music Videos | SPIKE.com

Wexford's Target

Two of my favorite things have now combined forces. Wexford, PA's own Christina Aguilera and Minneapolis' own Target. I hope they use this power for good. Too bad I have to buy this from iTunes and not Target. Sorry, but who needs CD's anymore? Christina, you are as hot as ever though...Even if the freeze frame of the youtube video isn't that flattering. Oh Nooooooo!

Fun With The Interwebs

Create your own Muppet I don't think I've had this much fun since the Simpson's character and the South Park character creators. The only downside is that it won't let me save the image so you all could see. I'm sure there is some computer nerd way to do this, but I don't care that much.

The Internet inventor approves this message.

The Breakup

Today I quit my second job in under three months.

When I started back to school I had in mind that I would need some sort of part time job to give me some play money. I wasn't really sure what to do though. I came across an add in the school paper for Box Store. I went in for the interview and it seemed like a job I could handle. The first day I started I found out I was wrong.

I despise being micro managed. The owner of Box Store was there all the time. He didn't trust his employees. He talked down to them. All signs of bad leadership. I was in charge of a few folks in my military days and I was never condescending to them like this guy was.

Today I was working, minding my own business when Boss tried to correct me. Afterwords I was caught rolling my eyes. He says "What was that look for?" I responded "What? Look?" So we kind of just brushed that one off.

A few hours later he asks me "Do you remember yesterday when we were discussing writing down what you were doing?" (They had the Scrap Paper system. If I was helping you do something I was supposed to keep notes on a small piece of paper so that way if my coworker took over for me, he knew what I was doing.) I looked at him and said "Yeah sure I remember that."
"Well yesterday when a lady came in and needed help you didn't write down what you did. You had to come from across the store and tell me. Did you not think it was important to do that?"
"Wait! When?" I asked.
"Yesterday."
"When?!"
"Yesterday."
"OK so you're trying to correct me for something minor that I did over 24 hours ago? I'm sorry Boss, but that doesn't fly. I'm not blowing you off, but if that's what you think that's fine too."

I went back out to do some more work and mind my own business again. About 20 minutes later I was summoned back to the office again. "You know, Adam. This just isn't going to work out" he said. "We're just going to have to part ways."
"Yeah we are" I replied. "I was going to make this my last shift anyway."
"So why did you have such an attitude with us?"
"You really want to know? (I didn't wait for an answer) Well, first, your employees don't respect you. You talk down to them, you micromanage them, you talk to everyone like they're stupid. The problem is that they don't know enough to call you out on it. They're young boys who have been in school all their lives and they only know people talking down to them. I was in charge of a lot of kids younger than them and I would never treat them like you treat these boys. They're smart. Trust them."

"Secondly, you nickle and dime your customers. A gentleman came in here the other day and spent almost $200 dollars, yet you made sure to make sure he was charged for those four copies he made at 17 cents a piece. You're all about customer service but you don't hook your repeat customers up here and there."

I'm sure more was said, but I was in a "blind rage." All I remember is Jack (co-worker) looking at me with a "Right on, man! F'n A!" look.

Guess it's back to the drawing board.

It's Not Gay if You Say "Good Game!"

When I was in Maryland and even in Virginia I used to drive by a "scenic overlook" sign outside of Frederick on I-270. I used to always think that I should stop and check it out. I forgot about it for the most part after I stopped driving by it. Before I moved to Ohio I figured I should stop and check it out since I didn't know when I'd be by again.

I pulled in to see some scenery and a few historical markers with a small mix of picnic tables. I noticed a few cars around so I parked and headed over towards the markers. Apparently it was the site of some Civil War skirmish which, being a history nerd, peaked my interest. As I was reading a middle aged man came over towards me and mumbled some sort of greeting. I returned the favor and finished reading. As I looked up he was still there. He mentioned something about the scenery and I agreed that it wasn't too bad.

He then looked at me and said "Well looks like it's just us two."
"Yeah, that it is." I said as I looked around and backed up slowly.
He then said something about being safe or careful or something weird. Immediately the alarms started sounding and I decided that it was time to run the fuck away. Fast. I don't know, but I think that I was propositioned. I always thought those rest stop stories were a myth, but apparently this guy was the myth buster.

I Aint Got Time To Bleed

I've been told that a new post is needed. I'm game, the problem is that I'm busy. I don't mean like, "Go away kid. We'll play catch later." busy, I mean my damn head hurts busy. I mean I hate looking at my fucking laptop anymore busy. I haven't gone on a date in months busy.

I've never been good at time management, so I'm learning by trial and error and it's been mostly error. I've got a six pager due next week on some topic that I really don't give a shit about and a four pager due this week on a topic that isn't as interesting as I thought it would be. I've kind of dug myself into a hole on the homework. We get some nightly assignments on top of papers and tests. It's a royal pain in my Royal Irish Ass!

I am hereby placing requests for any and all tips on time management in relation to college life. First I'll lay out what I do have:
Day planner with big spaces for each day.
Syllabi for each class laying out the assignments and general class time.
A six year old who does require his daddy time.

The social life seems to have been put on the back burner so if there is room for that too, let me know.

Last time I was this busy was when that bus full of Swedish women broke down in front of my house. They all insisted on staying in my room with me because they were afraid of being left alone. They also forgot their night clothes so they had to sleep naked. I was only being a humanitarian at that point.

Oh yeah, I'm trying out for the Jeopardy! college tournament tonight too. Wish me luck. I'll let you know how that goes as soon as I get my results.

Make 'em an Offer He Can't Refuse

The contract that I work on is up for renewal this year. Because of this many companies, including mine, are submitting bids to the government. A few weeks back Bossman brought in "commitment letters" for us to sign. At first we were a little worried about signing them but after reading them our fears were subsided. The letter simply stated that we would not give our resume to a competing bidder. I could go to another company if I so wished, but I couldn't have that company submit my resume as part of their package for my current job. Clear as mud? Good, let's move on!

I had no problem saying that I wouldn't give my resume to someone else because I honestly had no intention of doing that. Mostly because I know I'll be gone by the end of August anyway, but even if I wasn't I'm fairly content in my current position. I signed the letter and returned it to Bossman with a fake smile.

We had a meeting a few days later where Bosslady (who is higher up the chain) addressed the issue of the commitment letters. Her stance was, "If you're not committed to Company than Company is not committed to you and your resume will not be submitted as part of our package." I don't know what she meant, but I took it as a notice to look for another job if you don't sign these things.

Now we come to yesterday. I arrive to work and before I even sit down I'm told that the commitment letter has to be signed again because there was a rewording. Fine. Bossman brings new letters and they say the same thing except for this little paragraph at the bottom that states, "Upon reward I will be available for immediate start and will remain with the contract for a minimum of six months..." I looked at Bossman and said, "I can't promise you six months. It's nothing personal, but there is no way I can guarantee that." The others looked at me with shock. Eyebrows raised. Mouths dropped open. Car tires screeched in the background. If there was music it would have played "Dun Dun Daaaaaa". I basically gave my notice three weeks earlier than I wanted to.

Now, you're probably thinking, "You're leaving anyway, no big deal that you didn't sign!" And your are correct, however, even if I wasn't leaving I'd have a hard time with these letters. I get emails daily about positions that are opening from other companies as well as my own. If I had signed this and got an offer paying me more money closer to home I would be unable to pursue that job. As a financially strapped single parent my eyes where always open to better opportunities. Since I've decided on going back to school my interest has weened, but prior to that I gave every opening a thorough look. I would be unable to do that if I signed.

Over all I'm not worried about it because my path is set already. I feel bad for those that signed it and will get screwed over by it. I feel even worse for those that drank the Kool-Aide and signed it blindly. After two contracts with the military I am wary of any employment contracts. I'm also new to the civilian world so I'm not sure if this is something I can expect, but it doesn't seem to be common practice. Only time will tell. As for now, I wonder if the next six weeks will bring about any blow back from above.

Oh Happy Day!

Today started off as a normal day; Quentin moving at his own speed, me fumbling around trying to figure out what to do next, and the TV telling me how hot it's going to be and how much traffic to expect. In preparation for today's heat I donned my white polo shirt and packed shorts to change into for the Battle of the Beltway drive home.

We got out the door at a pretty good time and I dropped Quentin off at daycare, that's when it happened. For the second week in a row, I dribbled coffee on my white shirt. This is something that I live in constant fear of every morning. Last week it didn't happen until I was turning into the work parking lot, no going home to change there. Today I was relatively close to home so a dilemma faced me: go change shirts or try to tough it out at work. I chose the former. I darted home while loudly cursing every traffic light that decided it would turn red as I approached it. I finally got in the house, took off the shirt, ran it under water, changed into another darker polo, and made it to work only 15 minutes late.

I left my cell phone in the truck so I went back outside to get it when I looked down and noticed a fresh brown spot on my shirt. I have a great week ahead of me.

Men's Room Follies

Just when I thought I didn't have any material left for the month a douche bag co-worker swooped in and saved the day.

I was in the mens room alone. I finished, zipped, flushed, and heard the door. As I stepped over to wash I hear, "You don't always have to use the short one, man." I replied, "I'm short. I do. Shut up." He replied with an awkward chuckle. For those of you that don't know, I'm 5'5" and I'm perfectly happy with my height (mostly because I know it's something that I can't change). Secondly, I use the one proportional to my height and therefore avoid unwanted mess. And, finally, the shut up was a preemptive strike against the obligatory dick joke that would surly follow as well as letting him know that I didn't wish to discuss this.

The biggest thing that bothers me about this is not my toilet selection, but the fact that I hate being spoken to while I'm in the men's room. There are two things you don't do, when the boss asks if there are any questions at the end of a meeting you don't ask and you never talk in the men's room.

To top it all off this is the same co-worker that came in yesterday and started asking me about building web sites, like I care at 3:30. He wanted to know how to build a MySpace or Facebook type thing. I told him that it wouldn't work because that market has already passed, no one is going to leave the Space, the Book, or that other one for some start up page. After many attempts to show him I didn't care ("How do you build websites?" "I don't know, I don't care. I go home and sit in front of the TV.") he still rambled on about how much money he thinks would be in it. I stopped listening and went back to looking at the Space. He got the point and left shortly after.

Two days in a row this guy screwed up my otherwise pleasant work week.

When we have a meeting again I'm waiting for this assbag to ask the boss if we can all meet in the mens room for further discussion.

May I Take Your Order?

I'm so sick of the fast food industry! I still love me some fast food, but I'm sick of the combo meals and the gallons of soda that come with them. When the combo meals were first introduced it was a wonderful idea. I could get the items I usually ordered together in a fairly priced package by saying a number, grabbing my order, and going on my way. It had normal size fries and normal sized drinks and if I wanted more I could request a Super Size! Soon after the sodas started taking over and they have been growing ever since.

Taco Bell started first, you order the five soft taco combo and the employee would hand you forty ounces of Pepsi. (What am I going to do with this? It's not like I can put it in the fridge for later. This damn thing barely fits in the cup holder.) The other chains followed suit and next thing I know my lunch time ended up like a night at the movies. "Would you like a popcorn the size of Rhode Island for only a quarter more?" "Sure, why not?" Smalls became mediums, mediums became larges, and larges became toddlers. No longer could I have passengers in the truck because the soda was strapped in the safety seat next to me.

From now on I guess I'm stuck ordering small combo meals. The problem with small combo meals is that the drink is what a medium used to be, but the small fries are still small if not smaller.

It's a cruel world.

Fun With the Camera Phone.

I have one coworker who has so much crap that one person can barely fit into the cubicle which is about 7' x 7'. I am a little messy when it comes to desks but no where near this. My idea of a mess is some random papers in a pile or maybe yesterdays unwashed coffee mug. What's even better is that this co-worker drives a little Prius and that is also loaded up with so much crap that only the driver seat is available. I climbed on the desk of the cube next door to give you the full view:



I also work with a lot of bad fashion. It's hard to pick the worst, but I definitely found the brightest:

To be fair, my son has a bright green polo just like this, but I make sure he wears it with darker pants to dim it down. This guy's color combo is like sun on snow when he's under the florescent lights of the office.

I guess Obama isn't the only elitist this year.

Sergeant Hannah Montana's Playboy

There are a few things on my radar today and they are actually similar in nature so bear with me for a bit and you'll see my point.

First up is this little Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus picture drama. When I look at these photos, and this one, I don't think that they are that bad (then I immediately search the room for Chris Hansen) but, this leads to a few other questions. The first is: did she do anything different than what any other teen does on their MySpace and Facebook pages? That question leads me to this question: have we whored up our teen culture that much that we don't find these alarming anymore? When my generation was sixteen we were horny just like every generation before us, but the difference is that we didn't have the Internet to share our teases. In this light, I don't think they're different in what they're doing, but rather how they do it. We had to wait until no adults were around to see green bras and if we took pictures we had to then wait to get them developed, but then we ran the risk of our parents finding them.

The thing that bothers me most about these photos is the reaction of certain conservative groups who called for her to apologize and wanted her taken off the air. This is nothing more than a few trying to impose their morals on the many; I didn't find them a problem, most people that I talked to didn't care either, and I certainly didn't stop my son from watching her show. This is a problem not limited to teen pop stars however, it has spread all the way to the federal government and we now have something called the Military Honor and Decency Act, this act would, basically, ban the selling of Playboy magazine on the military installations.

What really drew me into this debate were these two blog postings by Skippy, who is against it (1 and 2) and this one from a conservative Army wife named Amy Proctor, who was very much in favor. As a former military member I despise this law, mostly because it seeks to take away some of the few freedoms our troops have and it is, again, trying to impose a select group's morals on the masses.

I don't care if it's Christianity or Miley Cyrus' green underwear, because either way, I am free to decide what offends me and what doesn't and I don't need the government, the media, or the aforementioned groups telling me what to think. If the selling of Playboy in the military stores offends you, well maybe I'm suffering from lung cancer and the selling of cigarettes offends me. Why are you not calling for those to be barred from sale also? At least Playboy doesn't cause cancer; however it may cause blindness!

Whether you are for or against this bill, write to your Representative and let them know. They may not read it, but at least you will have spoken up and not kept your thoughts hidden. If you are for it though, I hope you don't write.

Until next time: Cheers, Beers, and Playboy Bunny Ears!

I Wasn't Hired For My Disposition

For the last couple of days we've had major problems with our computer hardware at the workplace and during which I realized a few things about my job and me:

1. I spent the month of September sitting on my ass watching game shows, sports, and movie channels and I really miss that month.

2. When it came to the workplace the biggest thing is that I am not a "people person". I'm a very social person, but in the corporate setting I'd rather be left alone and I'll touch on that in a moment.

3. The best part of the last few days was that my e-mail was out and that makes me very happy because I hate e-mail. So it was a perfect Adam day because there was no Microsoft Office Assistant asking me if I want to read the stupid corporate e-mail that came through.

(Note: I hate e-mail because of the military. I used to get the same e-mail at least three times. It would start with the Commanding Officer who would send it to everyone that word is key. Then my lieutenant would send it around to his department, then my Master Sergeant would send it to his Sergeants and I was then expected to re-forward it to my peons. I of course would tell everyone that they wasted computer resources and that precious government dollar by clogging our mail servers with 55 copies of the same piece of mail. I even tried to put on my evaluation that I "Saved the government uncountable amounts of money by cutting e-mail traffic by 75%" they where not amused.)

The part of the day that finally made me stress at work was the damn phone. It didn't stop ringing. I actually wanted to go outside and have a cigarette because the phone calls where pissing me off so much; I don't even carry smokes to work anymore. South Park once told me that there are no stupid questions, just stupid people who ask questions. That statement has never really hit home before today. I'll give you a sample of a few of my phone interactions. The first ones were polite and I explained that we have some problems but we are working to resolve it and I will spread the word when all is well. The phone calls after that got a little worse because my mouth works faster than my mind sometimes.

Them: Do the printers work?
Me: Not yet, I'm working on it though.
Them: How about e-mail?
Me: Did you try it?
Them: Yeah it didn't work.
Me: Guess it's still out.

Them: When are the printers going to work? What's wrong with them?
Me: I don't know what's wrong yet and if I knew that I would tell you so you wouldn't call anymore.
Them: Well what am I supposed to do? I have a class to teach!
Me: I don't know I can't make these decisions for you.
Them: :slamming phone:
Me: Your welcome

Them: Does anything work.
Me: Not yet
Them: Why not?
Me: I have to keep stopping because the phone continues to ring
Them: That's real helpful (sarcastic tone) :phone slam part two:
I was told that I should try to be more polite.

Observations

Today is an extremely slow day and I've decided to list somethings I've noticed today.

- Nothing says, "I don't give a shit about you" as in calling you by the wrong name. Not forgetting someones name; I do that all the time, but to actually make up names. The deputy director of the office just called me Todd. Now he has also in the past called me Allen and Aaron; at least those are close to my real name of Adam. Instead of trying to correct the man, I've decided to see how many names he'll come up with. I've advised my coworkers of this and they agreed to not correct him. The only thing that will top this would be to see the embarrassment on his face when the director, who knows my name, corrects him. Maybe I should see if she'd be willing to get in on the action. I could make a chart of names and have people pick, like the Super Bowl pools that ask you to pick the score.

- Going back and re-reading a lot of this blog (I still hate that word) has made me realize what an accurate portrait of my life this is. It covers whatever emotion I'm feeling. My emotions vary and so do the posts.

- I bought new shoes Saturday and I'm wearing them for the first time today, when I walk around the office I find my self watching my new shoes and looking at myself in the full length mirror in the bathroom. They have more of a square toe and I'm hoping that doesn't make me one of the tools I usually make fun of.

- I'm pretty much alone in the office today and I've discovered how good my computer speakers actually are. I've finally been able to crank up the tunes a little bit. So far I've enjoyed John Mayer's Continuum, The Decemberists' Castaways and Cutouts and The Crane Wife, The Essential Billy Joel (Disc One and Two), and right now Ani DiFranco's Knuckle Down. This has truly been a wonderful day for music. My coworker, who isn't here, is the type that if it isn't early Metallica or Slayer, it sucks. So, to be able to crank a little Ani and not hear groans is a treat!

- I need to buy brown socks. For the first time in my life I own brown shoes and I was made aware of the fashion faux pas of wearing black socks with brown shoes. Of course this was after we had sat down in a restaurant and there was no going home to change shoes. I'm not wearing the brown ones today, I learned my lesson and I'm waiting until brown socks arrive before i try that again!

Bundle O' Anger

I found out that my ex wife recently had her baby. I found this out via MySpace and I think I'm beginning to hate that site more and more; first Lady Red's disappointment in aging and now my ex's procreation. There are two things that bother me about this whole situation. One is that I nor Little Man have heard from Ex in about a year. I've gotten random e-mails offering various excuses as to why our phone hasn't rang, but it doesn't make it any better. Now I want to throw this out there for future reference, please don't call me or e-mail me and tell me what a horrible person Ex is. It will not make me feel better and it will not change my parenting situation. It will do no good what so ever, and, to quote Pulp Fiction, "...I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger..." I probably won't bother with the vengeance and anger, but I will be a wee bit upset.

The second thing that bothers me is the overwhelming support offered to Ex by her so called friends. When she posted the message saying the the baby has come into the world there were many messages of congratulations, as is to be expected, but who these messages were from is what has the sand in my panties exceptionally course this time. These are the same people that when Ex left the marriage used to tell me what a horrible person she was and that she should proceed to the nearest bridge and jump. Why were they saying these things to me? Did they want to get me spun up so I would start running my mouth and then they could go back to Ex and tell her what I said? If this is the case they get the biggest Fuck You I have ever issued in my 27 years of existence. That is one of the shadiest things I could ever think of doing to someone. If they wanted to continue to be friends with Ex, that's fine, just don't put us in a room together and don't put one side against the other. They called themselves friends to me and would start bad mouthing her and I usually put a stop to it pretty quickly and moved on with my day, I'm wondering if they were doing the same thing to her.

Being that I have this page linked and some of these so called friends may happen to stop by I'm going to address them for the remainder of this entry. For the rest of you, just sit back and enjoy this like you would an episode of Maury or Jerry.

Dear False Friends,

For the years after my divorce you took me into your homes and I took you into mine. We drank together, laughed together, took trips together, and let our children play together. I went to you in times of need and you came to me in times of need. Why then would you turn on me and stop talking to me? Is it because I didn't give you the reactions that you wanted? Is it because I saw through your bullshit and fake smiles? At first you had me fooled but I caught on and in doing this did I scare you? If so, good. See what you all failed to realize is that Ex and I had a good relationship for a few years and while you were thinking that you where getting over on me, I was in fact, were getting over on you. I have dirt on each and every one of you. Things that you told her because you didn't want to tell me because you thought she was the better friend, she told me.

You all were so quick to criticize my marriage and my ex-wife but before you laugh and snicker at me maybe you should look in your own front door. The man who you cheated on your husband with, yeah the one that your not supposed to talk to anymore but do anyway. Good luck with that. Hope your husband isn't as blind as I was. And you, the one who still sends pictures and messages to that other woman, I know all about those. I also can't forget the one who was bed hopping like she was getting paid, you and your man are not immune either. Also there is the subliminal one. Based on your looks I wish I would have done what I wanted to, but looking at the way you played me and your little family, I'm glad I didn't.

The point here kids, is that you don't want to fuck with me, I don't run to Illinois and hide at my parents house. I play by different rules and I'll hurt your feelings. When I moved here you all said how much you liked having me around and how you hate to see me go. I'll admit that I bought it, but until recently I didn't see what you all were doing.

In light of all of this, there is one thing that I should mention. I am a forgiver and I am not a grudge holder. I can honestly say there is only one person in this world who I will never forgive and you all are not him. So, my number hasn't changed , my e-mail works, and Interstate 95 runs both ways, but I will not make the first move; the rest is up to you. I hope you have a long look at yourselves and realize what you did to me and my son and realize that I will not let it happen twice.

The Twelfth Month

I realized that it's been a hot minute since I've given you all any useful information regarding my life. I don't really have a good reason for this I'm not so sorry to say, I just didn't feel like writing. It's the month of December, so that means my birthday has come and gone, Christmas has just passed, and New Years Eve is next week. I suppose I can take each of those days and give you the scoop and maybe something interesting would have come out of that.

My birthday was a pretty low key event. A group met at an Irish bar in Fells Point for dinner. It was very tasty and a pleasant atmosphere to be in. We left there and headed to another bar in the area that had every sort of beer imaginable. I didn't know what to get so I looked at the bartender and said, "Give me something Canadian." This was met with a very disgusted huff and a face that said, "Please step out of the bar and let a truck run over your ass." Now I figured that I left this pretty wide open, something Canadian, it could be a Molson, Labatt's, or even a Moosehead Lager. Either way, I got my over priced Labatt and headed back to the group. We started playing pool and that brought out all of the Paul Newman wannabes in the bar so that didn't last long. When I went back to the bar I flirted with a little blond girl just to make sure that I still have some game, she seemed to soak it up but her boyfriend/husband didn't seem to find it nearly as amusing; fuck him! I made it to bed around 5:00 AM and woke up around 10:00 AM I think, whatever it was it was too early.

Christmas was uneventful. I spent it at Dad's like usual. I got a digital SLR so as soon as I learn how to use it maybe I'll start a photo blog. I left Quentin with the parents so I can go out and enjoy myself a little bit. When I used to be childless I would basically go on a bender, but now all I want to do is sleep. It sure does suck feeling like I'm older than I actually am.

No one can make up their mind on what we're doing for New Years Eve. Last couple have been spent on my couch so I'm ready to go out. There are those $100 open bar things, but the real question is, would I drink a $100 bar tab? Absolutely not! If I end up at a local corner bar, that's fine with me. I just want to be around people; I'm a social person and I want to be social, damn it! Maybe I'll see Blondie and I can piss off her boyfriend again.

Don't Call Me Ishmael

Let me preface this by apologizing to the ex-girls who read this. This is no way a shot at you, just the opinion of yours truly. You are all beautiful women, and I can say this with confidence because, I like to think that other than a few "low" points, I have above average standards on those I consider to be "easy on the eyes".

In this world of MySpace and Facebook and a bunch of other social sites we are able to find some old friends and maybe form some new connections with friends of friends and so on. It can be great but there is a darker side to all this reconnecting. Allow me to give you, Gentle Reader, an example of this dark side.

A few nights ago I was killing some time cruising the Space and I came across the profile of a certain girl that I was involved with in my high school years who, in my somewhat humble opinion, was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Even though the face had aged I knew it was her right off the bat, but something was amiss! This was not the girl that used to make all my high school friends envious, she had changed, a lot and, I dare say, it was for the worse.

Is this superficial of me? You bet! Am I somewhat wrong for thinking like this? Absolutely! But I think we all need a White Whale. I've never compared a woman to a whale and meant it to be a good thing, but I digress. What I mean by White Whale is I looked at this girl as perfect and I imagined that she continued to be the perfect woman 10 years later. I come to find out that she wasn't and for some reason I can't stop thinking about it.

Is it because somethings are better left to mystery? Is it because we remember things to be better than they actually where? When I was living in Norfolk, I enjoyed it, but I also thought about leaving and not looking back. When I didn't get to leave on my own terms and was forced to Baltimore I decided that the streets of Norfolk were paved in gold. The streets of Baltimore, the same city that at one point in my life I said that I wouldn't mind living in, were paved in mercury and you would be poisoned as soon as you touched them.

When the Girl and I split it was the days before every house and desk had a computer with internet access, including my own. It was also before everyone had a cell phone attached to their pocket. I was carrying around a pager in those days and I thought I was on the cutting edge of telecommunications technology. Anyway, her parents decided to move somewhere and because of the aforementioned reasons we just lost contact, that's what you did then. You didn't call long distance on your parents dime so there was no phone calls. We were learning how to use AOL and honestly, what teenager takes time to write a letter. Sure we kept it up for a little bit, but that faded fast. So ever since, in the back of my mind I had an image of this girl who grew into this beautiful woman and just knowing that she was out there kept some sort of mysterious aura about her. I then come across a picture of a girl that I may say hello to in a bar, but I wouldn't necessarily try to pick up. I used the phrase White Whale, and to amplify that point this is like Captain Ahab finding out that Moby Dick washed up on Myrtle Beach last Wednesday. There is nothing in the sea that fascinates him anymore. The positive side to all this: at least this whale didn't kill me like Ahab's did.

The Freaks Come Out At Night!

What the hell is wrong with This Picture? Have we become such a cowardly nation that we now deem this show dangerous? My generation came up with it and I think we're doing alright. We are living in such a culture of fear that it completely baffles me. Don't go into the city, because black people will rape and pillage you! Don't leave your door unlocked because crack addicts will break in and steal you! Don't let your kids play out side because the pedophiles and molest them. Don't let gay people get married because they will ruin it for the 40% of the straight couples that actually work out.

How is it we got to this point? Is this something that every generation has gone through? Is it our parental instinct to protect our children and in doing that we have just escalated to the point that we are currently? I, unfortunately, don't have these answers, but if I did I would fix the world!

By the way, as I'm typing this, goddamn teenagers are outside. Why aren't they at home? Don't they know it's dangerous out there at night?

A surreal moment is hearing your ex-girlfriend say she is going back to prison...more on this later, maybe.