Head Talk

I think I have multiple-personality disorder.

In any given social situation, I have exactly four people in my head arguing with one another at every waking moment of the day.

The names of those people are:

-The Pushover
-The Asshole
-The Indecisive One
-The One That Never Pays Attention

Scenario? Sure, why not?

Scene:
A pretty girl that I've met only once before says hi to me at Starbucks and decides to spend a few minutes sharing a drink with me.

The Pushover will be telling my brain: "Hey, make sure that you don't cross the line. You want her to think that you're a gentleman, don't you? Apologize for anything that might seem off-key because the last thing you want is for her to not want to see you again; heck, for all you know, she might be 'the one' for you. And if you get the chance, offer to buy her another cup of coffee when she finishes hers because she'll think you're sweet, too.

The Asshole will say: "Shut-up you Pushover pansy. Why don't you go and buy yourself some tampons for your huge vagina? Anyway, listen Matthew, this girl is used to getting anything that she wants. Don't give her anything. She needs to EARN it from you. What qualifies HER to be deserving of YOUR time? The worst thing you can do is bow down and put her on a pedestal like every single other guy she's met. If you want to stand out, stand up for yourself and ignore the hell out of her. Make her want you.

The Indecisive One will say: "Well, hey now, Pushover and Asshole, let's not get ahead of ourselves now. Remember, Matthew, you guys just met, so let her take you where you need to go. Just adapt to what she has to say. Keep quiet and don't say anything bold or brash. You don't want to come off as arrogant, or as a wuss, right? Oh, crap, she just asked you a question! Quick, counter! Say something like 'Um, well, what about you? What do you think about it?' Yeah, that'll do it. Because then, you can just build your answer around what she says, no matter what her answer is! Yeah, keep to that and you'll be golden.

The One That Never Pays Attention will say: "What is she saying right now? God, I know that she was just talking about her sick mother... I think. But there's that stupid one-legged bird sitting outside the window again. Matthew, you should be listening to her, shouldn't you? But damn, that bird is strange looking. Look at it hop around like that! I wonder if it was born that way or if some mean kid grabbed it and cut the leg off. Man, I bet that would hurt. How could I survive with one leg? I'd never be able to get around anywhere... but then again, birds can fly, so I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world. Oh crap, she just asked me a question, didn't she? I can't just tell her that I was thinking about that stupid bird. God, I hate birds. I know I should probably be sad because her face looks sad. Okay, just match her facial expression and tilt your head at her. You should be fine. Now where'd that bird go?

So yes, I have those four voices floating around my head at all times. And then I have my actual mind, which acts as the president over those four branches of government that is my brain. This is the one being that makes the executive decisions for me. If for any reason my mind sees no feasable way that the four voices can come to a unanimous decision, it will be the overriding force that commands an immediate direct course of action be taken... usually by coin-flip.

These voices can be heard the loudest when I am lost on the road. I usually have to turn the radio up really loud to drown them out. Then I proceed to take the longest way home... Every time.

Anyway - hey look, someone left a doughnut on the table! How old is it? Can I eat it? I don't want to be rude and just take it. But it's out in the open though, so just grab it. Maybe I should wait. Woah! My big toe on my left foot has a weird scar on the side, where the hell did that come from?

F-it! Just go to the bathroom and take a dump.

Time Crunch

As my family grows older, we also grow larger (*Not necessarily in the weight department. I mean, come on, if anything else, we're definitely a sexy bunch*). A new addition to our family was born earlier this month, increasing the number of March birthdays by one - and we couldn't be more excited.

But while I'm elated to have such a blessing to be so close to my friends, family and loved ones. I've learned that the time I have for things that I want to do for myself has been spread thinner than butter on toast.

This blog, for example has been neglected far longer than I anticipated.

I don't have many things that I want to do, but the the few things that I have in mind require a bit more attention than most:

-Writing books
-Working Out
-Sleeping

Just to name a few.

Maybe it's just me, or perhaps it's just all of the craziness happening during the month of March, but whatever the case it seems that the world is moving too fast for me and I am struggling just to keep up with it.

I saw this video the other day (Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIDLIwlzkgY) that made me wonder. It was all about how the world was getting exponentially bigger and how we are living in a faster and faster age. It noted that the amount of new technical information is doubling every two years - which means that for students starting a four-year technical degree, half of what they learn their first year will be outdated by their third year of study. How wack is that?

Maybe I'm just nostalgic, but I agree with the message of this video more: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoGYx35ypus

It's weird, I've always felt this way since high school about things. Does that mean that I've wasted all of my time since then because I've been so caught up in wanting to revert to old ways? I don't know. All I know is that there aren't enough hours in the day, and my ambition is slowly waned as the life-tests of procrastination and social pressures are washing over me in unforgiving waves.

But then I remember that I don't mind spending time with pretty girls and when I do, all of those other things that I was bitching and complaining about earlier get placed on the back-burner.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Sicknesses

Currently Reading:
The Time Traveler's Wife

I had a lot of topics I wanted to touch on today, but I felt obliged to narrow it down to only one: Sicknesses.

The other leading contenders were: Daylight Savings, Newborn Babies, and Old Man I Couldn't Pass Around in the Hallway Who Farted with Each Tiny Step.

Sadly, because this is all that I can wrap my head around at this hour, I can only write about my current, sick state.

Coughing, sore throat, lack of appetite, shivers, and a strange feeling of Vertigo are constantly battling one another to own the crown of 'Most Annoying Symptom of the Minute'. All I can seem to do is complain about anything and everything.

First, we lose an hour which doesn't help me get the much needed rest; as I had woken up an hour before my body wanted to. Secondly, I have a splitting headache that gets worse as I stand behind an elderly man at work today who happens to be in front of me in a narrow hallway, and farting little tiny squeaks with every step. Inside I was laughing hysterically, which hurt my gut, made me dizzier, and pounded my headache into a full-blown migraine. Ultimately, the pungent, sour smell of his gas didn't help my sinuses either.

In the end, I've pretty much given up on thinking that I'm 'healthy' today, which kind of sucks because I see myself as a person almost comically immune to sicknesses.

I'm thinking that I caught it when I was going out clubbing with some friends over the weekend. It was pretty chilly outside, but after a sweaty evening, I decided to go with short-sleeves in the brisk air. Perhaps that wasn't the best idea. Then again, there were a lot of dumb ideas we had that evening:

Mistake #1 - Using a gay bar to relieve our bladders.

It was a long car ride. Our bladders were about to explode. We parked. We found the nearest location that looked like it might have a restroom. We ran inside. We noticed a lack of girls. We noticed fancy, flashing lights. We noticed all the male bartenders in tight, black tank-tops. We didn't add things up until we were in the middle of our peeing session:

Me: Hey, man, it smells like a pool in here, huh?

Friend: I know, it's like bleach or chlorine *flush* (2 seconds later) AHHHH!!!!!

Me: What? *flush* (my eyes follow his to a poster on the doorway of two men flashing nothing but underwear). 'Two for One Specials. Wednesday Nights'. Gross.

Friend: Dude, I think we're in a gay bar.

Me: Dude... No wonder they were smiling at us.

END OF MISTAKE


Mistake #2: Standing in Line

Out in the cold, we had nothing to do but wait in line for two hours only to be told that the club had reached max. capacity and that everybody had to go elsewhere. Thanks for the 'Guest List' guys. Really awesome.


Mistake #3: Getting sick.

As it turned out, the evening was a pretty big success. We lost an hour of sleep, but we didn't care. We had fun. That was until I started coughing the next morning.


As it stands, I'm one weekend into March and only 5 weeks until the slew of birthdays is behind me. Which means that I might be able to catch up on rent over the next couple of months... if I decide to only eat apples and drink water throughout that time period.

On the bright side, I guess I'm losing weight.

I guess.

Forgetfulness

I will recap the birthday nights following '7' only very briefly:

March 1st: 2009 Wondercon SF. Met Adam Baldwin. Saw many strange costumes. Accidentally bumped shoulders with Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher). Awesome day.

March 2nd: Celebrated by doing absolutely nothing all day. Almost succeeded until persuaded into a nice dinner with cousins. Ate at BJ's. Almost literally inhaled their pazookie. Tradition upheld.

March 3rd: Back to the gym.

March 4th: Dinner at Claim Jumper. Appetizer sampler was enough to feed 8 starving Ethiopians. Wish I had a camera. Waitress gave me a flirty smile. Can't say that I blame her.

With that out of the way, allow me to introduce to you my new nemesis: Thursday mornings after long Wednesday nights.

Today, at 6:45 in the morning, I ran out to the driveway in forty degree weather in nothing but flip flops and a pair of boxers.

Allow me to backtrack.

Every week, our local garbage man comes to our neighborhood, just as any good garbage man would to cities all across the nation. Ours happens to pick up the garbage at first light; approximately the same time that I wake up. Unfortunately, due to my lengthy marathon of late-night TV, I had forgotten to place the cans outside.

Now, the only one that concerned me was the trash bin, that of course was the only one that was picked up by the time I had left my front door.

So there I am, standing in the freezing cold, nipples hard enough to cut glass, as I watch the garbage truck roll down the street and turn the corner, leaving behind only a cloud of exhaust from its tailpipe.

Needless to say, I was peeved.

Not only do we have garbage that needed to go out, but to make matters worse, the can was already filled up, and on top of that, we have a big family party to host today. So I figure that by the time next Thursday morning rolls around, we'll have nearly seven large bags of garbage overflowing the already-full garbage can.

My problem is that this isn't the first time this has happened to me. Not the second either. It's probably the fourth time... this year. I've lost count of how many over all.

Damn you long Wednesday Nights and Naked Thursday Mornings!

It seems like its time to start sneaking bags into the neighbors' cans when they're not looking.

7

Jinx/Socks
Kioko
Bunny
Jade
Mya

Non-stop laughter and fun for everyone for 8 hours straight.

Nuff' said.


Birthday weekend night #2 on the books.

Spinning and Thumping: Alcohol

Somewhere between 9pm last night and 9am this morning I was able to lose 5 lbs.

At 9pm my friend came over reared and ready to go out to party at a club in the area. Naturally, as friends do, we got to cracking a few bottles of beer open together and threw them to the backs of our throats before taking off. I don't encourage drinking and driving (especially if we're on our way to go and drink some more), but in this particular case, I gambled.

A cousin of mine was djing the event and had spotted me in a crowd. He told the doorman to let me and my friend in. What happened next was a seemingly endless blur of strangeness:

-Every three steps I ran into somebody I knew, or at least somebody that knew me.
-A sea of bodies bombarded my senses, most of whom towered over me in height.
-I consumed way too many drinks of different varieties.
-I danced with random people left and right.
-Somewhere along the night I gave a really tall waitress a piggy-back ride.
-I threw up on the side of the road.

It would be futile to attempt to explain what happened last night in a way that would be anywhere near interesting, so I'll fast forward to what happened when I came back home:

-I fumbled with my keys at the front door.
-I stumbled in at 2:45am, most likely waking my roommates.
-I remember walking into a clean room.
-I threw my possessions on my table, disrobed and went to sleep.
-I woke up to the world spinning and my head thumping.
-In my mouth there were Mardi Gras beads.
-At my feet there was loose change, my wallet, keys, watches and coupons.
-I was curious about that, so I rolled over and felt markers, pens, pencils, mints, and vitamins against my arms.
-After assessing the situation, I went to the bathroom to try and sort this mess out.
-I weighed myself on the scale just because it was there (as I did last night).
-I lost 5 lbs.

What the hell happened last night?

I'm really uncertain, which probably explains the ragtag way this post was pieced together. My head hurts too much to try and make some decent sense out of things and make this post lyrical. Besides, the taste of the lingering bile is really making me more nauseous. I'm going to eat some Lil' Smokies to try and rinse that flavor out.

Birthday weekend night #1 on the books.

Bathroom Etiquette

Times may change, but the bathroom rules are still the same, aren’t they?

A simple overview of the common rules:

-Don’t talk to anybody. Look straight ahead or down when you do your business standing up.

-Only nod at one another completely before or completely after finishing.

-Try your best to keep a buffer stall in between you.

When people choose to disregard these rules by engaging in any way, shape or form with me, I simply ignore them. They can talk to me outside when we’re done.

So anyway, I had a weird experience in the bathroom today.

I went to the executive floor of our building (where all of the six-figure money-makers sit). After running a couple of errands, I felt that I should just go ahead and empty my bladder really quickly, since the bathroom was right there. It’s eight-fifteen in the morning and I figure that means the place should be rather empty. Very wrong, Matthew. Very wrong.

The bathroom on that floor from left to right looks like this: Handicap stall, regular stall, urinal, urinal, two sinks, door. The door doesn’t have a handle, it’s one that just requires a simple push to open and close, kind of like a swinging door. Anyway, my tennis shoes barely made a sound as I quietly walked in, the swinging door gently closing quietly behind me. Immediately I noticed that there were already two people using both stalls, each with a pair of feet and bunched up pants gathered at the ankles. Unusual, because I thought that executives would much rather prefer to use their own, personal toilets at home instead of the public ones at work, but still, it didn’t bother me much. I have a feeling that they don't notice me, and sometimes I like to play a ninja game to see if I can get away with it. I use the stall furthest to the right, just to distance myself and quietly handle my business.

It’s during mid-stream when it happens. One of the guys in there lets out the most gnarly, grotesque, wet fart you’d ever heard. For a second, it’s almost so quiet that you could hear a pin drop on the floor. And for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though it would stay that way.

That’s when the other guy in the handicap stall started to giggle.

And then the guy who farted let out an exasperated laugh, too. While doing so, he farted again, unable to control his flatulence.

Which ultimately left them both laughing loudly together.

Now, I’m not one for open communication in the bathroom, but I thought that was funny as hell, so I joined in the laughter, thus making me nearly miss the urinal. Instantly, the room quieted. It just hit me that they hadn’t known I was in there. I didn’t know if I should feel embarrassed with them, or not. But whatever the case, I finished up in a hurry. After I was done, I quickly washed up and left the bathroom.

I know that I have a lot of things to take care of today, but I figure that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I hung around outside of the bathroom, tinkering with some stuff just down the hall inconspicuously monitoring the men's restroom door.

Turns out the CEO and the CFO walked out of the bathroom one minute after the other.

They’ll never know who the mystery laugh came from.

Don’t worry guys; your secret is safe with me.