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 |   The only blog that will put hair on your chest... |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Turning from the Dark Side ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** < This is where I'll insert a cool new blog description. Someday. > |
| I've been playing poker all morning; it's the only thing that can take my mind of things. It's not working. In fact I've lost a good amount of money making stupid decisions. I've reached a point where I don't care if I lose. All my pain is inside and I'm directing it into the chips. I'm making dumb bets and even dumber calls. I've lost track of how much I've lost. I never do that. And for some reason I don't really care. Well, not just somereason. In fact I know exactly why I don't care: money doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. A concerned comrade told me I should try sharing what's bothering me with someone. Bottling things up isn't healthy. I know this, but some things I'm not willing to share anymore. The things bothering me require someone special I can confide in. I've already confided as such, but it still festers inside where I must deal with it alone. There can be no resolution in silence. I share things with my fiancee and a handful of friends, all W.com friends. I have never shared anything with any of my real world friends. That would be way too uncomfortable. Some of them don't even know I'm engaged yet. And I would never share anything with my family. Nothing good ever comes of that. But now I've realized that my stock of W.com friends isn't what it used to be. I still have the same friends, more even, but I'm reluctant to share private things with all but one of them, and that one is hardly available anymore. I got quite close to another, but I realized sharing in that case only hurts me in the long run. I can only take so much of being misunderstood, misinterpreted, and misrepresented, even if it is all well intentioned. So I'm now limited to expressing myself to my fiancee. Besides the burden that forces her to bear, there's another inherent problem with that scenario. What happens when I need to talk about something related to her and I can't talk to her directly? The answer has suddenly become to bottle it up. The only person who would truly understand anything in that area is her confidant, and that has suddenly put a strain on our own friendship, at least to me it has. So in certain circumstances I can't confide in my only confidants. Where's Den when I need her? I just quit playing poker. I lost with pocket Aces. I knew someone outflopped me, but I kept jamming the pot anyway so I just could yell about my misfortune at the end and belittle the idiot who called with 7 9 suited. I hate when pain's only manifestation is anger at the poker table. Losing becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. But I digess... Silence. Silence is what drives me insane. Quick, somebody entertain me. |
| I write that last blog entry and the very next morning I'm sitting here in pain, a psychological and emotional pain that I have to bottle up and attempt to deal with internally. Normally I'd write about it here, because a failure to relieve it in any way by expressing myself is only going to make it fester worse inside. But I've learned from my mistakes, and inside is where it shall remain. Since I can't control my emotions, I'll go back to hiding them. Fortunately I'm one hell of a poker player. |
| I've made a conscious decision tonight to stop expressing my inner thoughts online. I write something personal or philosophical, and people read too much into it and draw incorrect conclusions based on assumptions derived from similar experiences. The fact is very few people who have made these interpretations can relate to anything going on in my head. I'm tired of being misunderstood and then having people analyzing me. Maybe I'm just bad at adequately expressing myself with the written word. Or maybe no one can truly relate to me. Or maybe people take things too literally. Whatever the case may be, I'm sick of being misunderstood. There's only one person that needs to understand me, and there's no need for a written expression of emotion to accomplish that. Instead I end up with people sharing untrue ideas about me that come back to bite me later. Either people read too much into things or I write things on a exaggerated scale. In either case, it's coming to end. It only complicates things that shouldn't involve third parties anyway. |
| I'm problematic; everyone knows that. Most everyone even knows I'm problematic content. People actually call me "PC," which in some childish way makes me feel good about myself. I actually have a nickname. I'm the cool kid that everybody knows, but most people only know by his populace-appointed moniker. It's like being "the Fonz" from "Happy Days." I wish I could think of a better analogy, because that show makes me sick to my stomach, but I can't be bothered to come up with a better comparison. But a nickname... something I've never had before Writing.com. Well, that's not entirely true. Some people have called me E3 or EB3. I've been called "Little Ern" too, but I refuse to acknowledge that on account of being older than four. A buddy in high school called me "Lazy Ern," though I frankly can't remember why. (This was the same kid that used to sit on the 5' filing cabinets during class). But never before have I had a nickname that was so widely used and so appropriate to my own tastes. Many W.com'ers have a nickname of sorts, and most are abbreviated versions of their longer handle name. Mine's an acronym. Only two other people I can think of go by an acronym: SM & SMs. Not that I'm to be associated with them mind you. The point is it's rare, and so much cooler than going by a shortened version of your handle. People calling me "Prob" is akin to people calling me "Ernie" or "Ern," but getting called PC is like Roosevelt going by FDR. It makes me feel big and important. I could say it makes me feel loved too, but I'm not that naive. Most people who throw out the "PC" moniker either dislike me or don't have an opinion about me either way. Most likely they simply find me amusing. And that's fine by me. That's the way I like it even. It strokes my ego to know that people who have no particular closeness to me still know my nickname. As an aside, it's also somewhat amusing to know that PC is more commonly known to refer to "personal computer" and "politically correct." I'm neither, and more accurately I'm a "personal confuser." But what else does PC stand for besides problematic content? What does this PC stand for? So here's the challenge: post a comment in here telling me what PC stands for by your standards. It should be a two word combination (a p-word and a c-word  ) that I have not mentioned above that you think is relevant to me in some way. I'll give out a small GP prize for all phrases, unless the phase is neither amusing nor relevant to me in any obvious way. The best one will get a bonus. Have your phrases in (as many as you want) before Sunday. |
| I was trying to express to a friend today just how important a kiss is, what inherent and singular value I see in a kiss. I was trying to explain its expressive and intimate component as something that transcends other forms of interaction. And by this I'm referring to a romantic kiss of course. I am not, however, referring to a kiss shared in the throes of passion or of a sexually aggressive nature. Well, I could be referring to those as well depending on the circumstances. Mostly though I'm referring to the kiss shared by two lovers for no reason other than to express their feelings toward one another. I never knew what a kiss really meant until several months ago, but now I know what a powerful expressive tool it is. That's why when a friend tried to stifle her significant other's self expression through kissing, I jumped to kissing's defense. Alas, she had to run off before I could adequately put my opinion into words. I considered writing my opinion out after, to appease the sudden inspiration if nothing else, but I wonder if I could ever express in words what a kiss means to me. More specifically what our kisses mean to me. I don't think I could. I think that's why a kiss is so important--it gives us a tender way of saying something when words just aren't expressive enough. |
| I'm shockingly happy despite even more stress being added today. I first came to my blog fulling expecting to rant about the sudden threat of my office colleagues and I having to become a union against our will. If it happens, I'll likely quit my job, which is just about the last thing I need right now being financially behind and suddenly having a large rent and another person to support. As I ponder it more, it succeeds in stressing me out even more than I already was. Despite this I'm somehow remaining upbeat today. And on that note, I feel like a game... I'm moving into a new place February 1st, along with my fiancee. I'll give GPs to anyone who posts a comment here, telling me what they'd get me for a house-warming gift if they had limitless resources and an actual affection for me. In fact, you can give it to my future wife instead if you want. Just tell me what you're giving to me/her. And make it entertaining! GPs will vary based on the appropriateness and entertainment value of the gift. Boy, I haven't done this in so long. I wonder if I'll still get a response on these sort of games. I suspect I will; I doubt very much that W.com people have gotten any less greedy.  Oh, and since this isn't a contest really, there's no deadline. |
| Each day is worse than the last. This morning I'm feeling it especially hard. I only need to wait another month before it's forever, but can I survive an entire month without going crazy? There is a gaping hole inside me somewhere, and I can't fill it. The longing comes close to tears, and I imagine it will escalate to that in another week or so. But what choice do I have? A month of longing is certainly worth a lifetime of joy... isn't it? Of course it is, but the question is whether or not I'll keep my wits about me. I've never been good at looking towards the future. |
| I saw this in someone's signature block, and I had to steal it on account of being a hopeless romantic and knowing exactly what it means. This one's for you, my beautiful fiancee: "To the world you just might be somebody... But to somebody, you just might be the world." |
I finally submitted one of those Writing.com testimonials. I wonder if The StoryMistress  will actually post it. It really wasn't that problematic, and I actually made it all as an honest compliment. Until I found this place, I always felt like I didn't belong. But now I know there are plenty of people out there just as royally messed up as I am.  Here's my testimonial: I could expound on the virtues of Writing.com as a writing community and the vast ways it has helped me improve my writing. But then I'd only be repeating what countless other authors have already expressed in words far more eloquent than my own. The fact is if you're a writer, you probably have some issues to work through. There's likely something nagging your psyche, driving you to express yourself in ways most people don't bother expressing themselves. You may even feel like you don't fit in or people don't understand you. You'll be understood here. You'll quickly be pulled into a community of like-minded people, and soon you'll be addicted. Since there's a relatively good chance you're obsessive compulsive already, this won't bother you much. You'll feel compelled to log on everyday and pow-wow with fellow writers and online friends that know you better than most of your family and real-world friends. You'll soon realize you're part of a true community, one that means as much to you as the real world. I can rarely go a day without logging onto Writing.com. I even met my fiancee here. This is much more than a website, people, it's a second home. |
| Last week when Jodi was here, eight of us went to my favorite Chinese hangout, Debbie Wong's. It's likely one of the last times I'll ever go, because everyone decided they never want to go again. A waiter there has been hitting on my sister the past couple trips, and on this trip he took three dollar bills, did some intricate origami, and placed "I  U" in front of her on the table. Well, technically the "I" was a collared T-shirt so the exact expression was "Shirts love you." *shrugs* Maybe he just thinks she looks good in shirts. In either case, it made my sister extremely uncomfortable, and she said she's never going again. My parents then decided the same. There are a couple other people I could go with, but part of the appeal of Debbie Wong's is going with a party of 5 or more. So I bid you adieu Debbie Wong's, just one change in a series of many soon to happen.At least my fiancee got to experience it once. As per tradition I kept my fortune to record here. I kept hers too. She actually had two fortunes in her fortune cookie, but in my incredible ineptitude I lost one. When you have a bulging wallet like I do, you're bound to lose something out of it. So here was mine: Happy events will take place shortly in your home. I already knew this. We're moving in together in February, so this is guaranteed. Happy events were already taking place anyway. Now if you add the "in bed" to this fortune as per a common tradition, the message becomes even more enticing.  And now for my fiancee's: If your desires are not extravagant they will be granted. I put my personal guarantee on this one. I'll do whatever I must to grant her personal desires, including the "in bed" variety. |
| For Christmas I got my brother a checkerboard. Tame enough right? Well, the playing pieces are shot glasses which you fill up before playing, and everytime you lose a piece you have to take a shot. What better way to celebrate the holidays than playing games and getting alcohol poisoning? The alcohol was flowing at our New Year's Eve party, and early in the evening my brother and I took a shot of rum together. I concluded back in October that I don't like alcohol, but I figured one shot couldn't hurt. I discovered I could tolerate the stuff. They were actually all disappointed that I didn't yack it back up or even make a face. I didn't chase it with anything either. I actually ended up taking two. As the night wore on and all plans were replaced with raging drunkenness I figured I may as well participate. I'm a competitor, and I don't drink for sheer enjoyment, so I had to figure out how to get in on the action. And unfortunately my inhibitions hadn't abandoned me enough to sing karaoke yet. So I challenged my brother to shot-glass checkers. I figured I'd kick his ass, have to swig a few shots, and get to watch his sobriety disappear before my very eyes. The little bastard chickened out. His friend Jess, who was already three sheets to the wind, stepped up to the challenge. If I couldn't bring about someone's drunkenness, maybe I could at least cause a drunk to completely pass out. I filled my shot glasses with rum because I'm a pirate. Arrrrrr! She chose Vodka. Being an alcoholic ignorant, I have no idea how this effects the story, if at all. We agreed up front that in order to "king me" we had to swig our own shot and tip the glass upside down since stacking two shot glasses on top of each other is no easy task. Besides, why not eliminate the one rewarding aspect of checkers by associating it with more alcohol? Though technically everyone besides me thought the real winner was the loser anyway. We moved our shot glass pieces forward cautiously, neither one of us wanting to make that first move to start a jumping war. Being a checkers strategist, I knew this was a mistake, but fear and the despicable smell of booze deterred my logic. Eventually we hit a deadlock, and a series of jumps became inevitable. By some sick twist of fate or some cruel cosmic joke of the booze gods the board was aligned perfectly for me to suffer a series of losses. When the dust had settled I had lost six pieces and taken six shots. She had taken only 5 shots, and one of those was a king, so she had only lost 4 pieces. I was in position to lose a game of checkers to someone completely intoxicated. My sobriety and my dignity were at stake. With the board cleared away now, my strategic mindset returned and I ravaged the board. I took a king of my own, now having downed seven shots. My pieces advanced as they downed her liquid army and she downed her liquid punishment. Soon I had four shot glasses arrayed near the end of the board, all poised for kingship. With my one king I took more of her pieces, but by sheer dumb luck she made it to my end of the board and kinged two more shots. Her last three shots were taken by pitying bystanders. I didn't object because when her eyes began to roll into the back of her head, I feared she may collapse and break the glass checkerboard. As the shot glasses slid around the booze-slicked checkerboard I assessed my moves and realized I needed to sacrifice myself for the good of my forces. I took two more shots to earn my crowns and advanced on her three remaining pieces. A few minutes later I raised my arms in victory as her last king fell to my spirited forces. I had won the game, taking all the pieces and 9 shots total. She had lost and downed 12 shots in the process. And the real kicker to this story? I never got drunk. I never even felt a buzz. A few people insisted I did, especially when I finally broke down and sang Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" with my brother. But my brother and fiancée, who have both seen me sing and dance "The Safety Dance" while sober, know that I was just being myself. Just more proof that you don't need to get drunk to have a good time. You just need to be... a little problematic.  |
| The answer is me... So it's about time I write that blog entry I've been wanting to write for a couple weeks. I had to keep it a secret until now, because to write it would mean giving away Jodi's New Years surprise gift. She's got it now, in the car with her on the way back to Maine as I type this, so here's the scoop on my escapades at the Build-A-Bear Workshop. Two weekends ago I went to the mall with my parents and sister. I never go to a mall without a plan, unless I'm just tagging along. If I go to a mall planless with money and/or a credit card, I inevitably end up spending more than I should have. I come home with puppies, appliances that require dollies to carry to my car, fake dog poop, fart machines, books I'll never read, as-seen-on-TV gadgets that keep me from bending over or reaching for the remote, and anything else that comes in a bright shiny box or has adorable little eyes. But I digress. I had a plan this time. Jodi collects teddy bears. Yeah, yeah, maybe she doesn't want that to be public knowledge, but if she's going to spread nasty rumors about me being some kind of male scrapbooker, then so be it. Anywho, being the hopeless romantic I am, I had intentions of going to the Build-A-Bear workshop and getting her a matching bride and groom bear. Now if you haven't heard of the Build-A-Workshop, I shouldn't bother to give you the details. It's something better experienced, a revelation I arrived at the hard way. Basically though it's a store where you build your own teddy bear. You pick out the bear you want, get it stuffed, dress it in the outfit you want, fill out a birth certificate, and then hand over your hard-earned (or not so hard-earned) cash for it. Seems simple enough right? Picture this: A 6'1" 200-something lb, 26-year-old man decked in a black leather jacket and Atlanta Braves baseball cap cautiously setting foot inside the Build-A-Bear Workshop. I had ditched my parents and sisters in the mall. I decided the humiliation wasn't worth the moral support. As is always the case when planning my mission, I needed to case the joint first. The first obstacle was the lack of cover. The workshop is mostly an open room, with the occasional kiosk and bear building station here and there. This was not going to be easy. I slipped in behind three middle-aged ladies, two small girls, and a disgruntled father on a cellphone. I posed as the perfect tag-along brother figure. I followed them into the store hoping to do a little recon. The two girls went right to the wall displaying all the bears to choose from. I needed to pick out two bears, one light-colored to represent my blonde fiancée and one dark-colored to portray my own black follicles and off-again-on-again black unibrow. Those little rugrats ran right past the bears to pick out a giraffe and Frosty the Snowman. So much for my cover. The father hung back to carry on his cellphone chat, so I clung to him, using his too-small profile to hide my gaze at the bears on the shelves. I glanced around, mindful of prying eyes, and hastily grabbed a bear off the shelf to inspect it. Satisfied with it, I glanced into the bin below to pick one out. To my sheer horror the bears in the bin below were unstuffed. I glanced toward the next station, where two 20-something female employees were sitting next to a huge machine holding the animal skins over tubes while stuffing was shot in. It was at that moment that I realized my hopes of completing this mission covertly were completely futile. I would have to make contact with at least one of these agents. My identity and my cover were blown. The group I had ducked in with had moved ahead while I contemplated this new obstacle, and I promptly slipped back out of the store. I looked in with a couple other apparent Build-A-Bear virgins and scoped out the various stations. After the wall of bearskins to choose from, I had to get the bear stuffed. I watched a group of toddlers take tiny stuffed hearts from a bin, rub them together, kiss them, and proceed to do jumping jacks and ballet spins to get "the bear's heart started." The little heart was then stuffed into the bear before it's back was sewn up. I swallowed hard, seeing my manhood practically disappear before my very eyes. The next station was a blastic tub that looked like something out of "Cat in the Hat." A mock bath was given to each bear to rid him of that oh-so-filthy stuffing apparently. Next, the bear would arrive at the dressing room, which consisted of two walls of bear costumes and a dressing table and mirror. I had to pick out outfits and dress the bears. Luckily I knew what I was looking for. Finally came a station of monitors and keyboards for creating your bear's birth certificate. Time to make a plan. I stepped back into the store, hands in my pockets and whistling softly. I leaned back and slumped my shoulders like any good father or older brother might do while his little daughter or sister was picking out her bear. I meandered around, checking out the little outfits hanging on bear hangers, scoffing and chuckling all the while lest anyone think I actually was looking for an outfit. While I snickered at a magician's top hat and magic wand, my eyes were actually taking in the bridal gown and black tuxedo hanging above in their plastic bags. Target confirmed. At this point I had it figured out. The only remaining obstacle was getting past the bear stuffers with minimal humilation and even fewer questions. I went to the bear wall and selected my two bears, one blonde and one dark brown, as it was meant to be. I slipped in line behind two little girls and their leather-clad dad. They both picked out the Cookie Monster and advanced to the "Pick a Sound" station. What?! Pick a sound?! What the hell was this? This wasn't in my debriefing. This wasn't on the tactical map. I stilled my pulse, and did the only thing a man of my sheer wit and intellect could do: I watched the little girls and mimmicked what they did. We came upon a counter with buttons, a speaker, and a slew of labels. They pressed each button to listen to the sound. After finding a couple sounds they liked, they pulled open drawers matching the label on the sound and pulled out something in a tiny white bag. The older girl squeezed hers, and a little noise emanated from the box within. What a devilish little contraption. A few minutes later I discovered that the only remaining sounds were Cookie Monster giggles and lion roars. Though I may look something like the Cookie Monster, I had no tolerance for my groom proxy sounding like him. With no good sounds to choose from, I successfully dodged that obstacle. I waited in line as the two girls got their Cookie Monsters stuffed, and I squirmed in my shoes as two more little girls got in line behind me. Something was wrong with this picture. Finally the girls ahead of me moved on, and the employee looked at me. I thought I saw a flicker of shock, but I gulped and stepped forward, crossing that threshold between manhood and gooey, whipped romantic. "Would you like your bear stuffed so it's squishy, plump, or medium?" I told her medium, and she instructed me to step on a foot pedal while she held my bear in place. The first bear puffed out and the second followed suit. Next came the little stuffed hearts. I took both at once, slapped them together, rubbed them in my palm, made a wish that comes true every day, and kissed them. I stuffed the hearts into the bears, and I waited for instructions to do a dance or something equally apalling to bring them to life. Maybe she took pity on me. I'm sure I looked pathetic and terrified--so much for my poker face. Whatever the case may be, she just passed the bears to me and said "There ya go." I glanced over my shoulder as I advanced to the dressing station in time to see two little girls twirling around to bring their stuffed snowman to life. Thank the Lord for small miracles. I went right to the tuxedo and gown and pulled them down off the hook. I stepped to the dressing table as sweat began to bead on my brow. "So I just dress 'em here?" I asked the teenage employee who was much too busy making out with her boyfriend (or perhaps just a loyal patron). She nodded and provided no further instruction. I couldn't decide what was worse: being clueless or being told how to dress a bear by a middle schooler. I dressed the groom first. I slipped on his little pants and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. Next came the tuxedo jacket. Little did I know it was attached by velcro in the back, so I pulled it down over his head like I put on my own shirts. A five or six-year-old girl came up and stood beside me, calmly dressing her Cookie monster while I fumbled with the bridal gown and veil. Her father stood behind her, never taking his eyes off the large man dressing two teddy bears with no child or female in sight. I can only measure how long it took to dress the bears in buckets of water I sweated, because I lost track of time. But it took long enough to give me pit stains. The bridal gown came with matching garter belt and shoes. I left those in the plastic bag for now, so I could put them on when I got home. Someone watching me slide a belt up a bear's leg toward her furry crotch was not part of the plan. Finally came the computer stations where I would print out the bear birth certificates. How come a computer geek and programmer can have such a hard time coping with an operating system designed for grade schoolers? Why is it easier to work a Microsoft keyboard than some plastic thing that looks like a Fisher Price toybox? Printing the birth certificates was too dramatic to completely remember, but several minutes later I advanced to the cash register with my Ernie and Jodi bears and paid my way to salvation. Mission accomplished. And yes, the smile on her face made it all worth it. |
| I'm going to puke if I see one more person refer to their kid as "Munchkin" in scroll. What the hell is up with that? One person calling their kid munchkin is mildly annoying, and two people doing it is eye roll inducing. Anything more than that is downright nauseating. I'm sick of it. A Munchkin is a little person that lives at the beginning of the Yellow Brick Road. They are not children! I just want you to know that your children are going to grow up to hate you for calling them that all these years. Would you want to be called Munchkin?! Of course not. Although if your answer was yes, you've clearly smoked too much weed or had hippies for parents. There's no other explanation. Seriously people, why the hell would you call your kid Munchkin? Didn't you give him or her a real name? Okay, so maybe you don't want to reveal the real name here, but that doesn't mean you have to call him/her by some inane, sickening, copyrighted, dumbass name that annoys the hell out of us scrollers. What ever happened to my son or my daughter? For that matter, come up with a nickname that's actually original and meaningful to your kid. Nah, it's just easier to use a generic, overused, mind-numbing, craptacular name. When everyone's spewing "Munchkin" bullshit, how can I tell which kid is which? Here a Munchkin, there a Munchkin, everywhere a freakin' Munchkin. I can tell you right now any children I have will not be Munchkins. They will be children, human bundles of joy and little terrors, complete with human names, nicknames, and titles. They won't be some hopped up dwarves with whimsical, curly hair, seizure-inducing clothing, helium voices, and head-sized lollipops. Damned Munchkins. No... damn the parents instead, those horrible horrible parents. |
| The year 2005 is coming to close, and it's time to reflect on the things that I experienced or accomplished over the course of the year. 2005 was easily the most significant year of my life. I experienced every bit of the emotional spectrum and embarked on life changes that will forever shape me into the person I've always wanted to become. I started the year with a near-death experience and a self-removal from a relationship that could only hurt me. I lost the closest member of my family that doesn't live with me, an event I still blame myself for. I entered into a deep, dark depression like nothing I've ever experienced. I began a meager attempt at finding love, and I began breaking myself of some of my compulsions. I failed at all the non-financial attempts to better my life, and I contemplated suicide. I poured myself into work, hobbies, and getting into shape to distract myself. Then, by some divine intervention the love of my life found me, I got a promotion, and I began to shed my fears and anxieties. By autumn I was a new man, embarking on adventures and experiencing things I had never felt and never thought I would. A long-distance love turned into a deep, meaningful relationship, and Christmas brought an engagement. I have come so far in one year, further than I have ever come in my life. So many people are responsible, and I wish I could thank them all. I'm working on something now in which I do exactly that. For now though I'll simply thank Jodi, without whom I could never have made the leaps I've made so quickly. She is my inspiration, my motivation, and the shoulder I lean on. I am so very thankful that we'll be experiencing each year hereafter together. And now, let's see. What did I do this year... [ ] broken a promise I can't remember that being the case. If I did, it must have been necessary or unintentional. [X] made a new best friend Every reader here knows the answer to this question, and I'd rather not make Mia gag whilst reading this. [X] fallen in love If I was engaged and not in love, I'd be rather crazy wouldn't I? Though I'm not denying my tenuous stranglehold on sanity. I am problematic afterall. [X] fallen out of love I fell out of a form of love, and thank goodness for that. It let me find the real deal, the true love we all dream about. [X] done something you swore you'd never to do And I'm so very happy I did. Sometimes it's rewarding to be wrong. [X] lied Everyone lies a little bit. How could we pull of surprises if we didn't? What kind of dumbass question is this? [ ] stole At first I was going to respond with something like "I stole someone's heart," and then I realized my reader(s) would be puking again. Meh, I'm sure she already is anyway. [X] went behind your parents back I'm 26 years old and hardly need my parents' permission to do anything, but just last night I had to be a little sneaky. I was out to dinner with them and my sister, and we ate at the Ruby Tuesdays at the mall. Afterwards I split up so I could make some purchases I'd rather my parents not know about. [X] cried over a broken heart I cried about a lot of things this year. That's just one thing. [X] dissapointed someone close Yeah, don't remind me. Sometimes I'm just a big idiot. I'm still learning, so bear with me. And remember that I'm problemtic, and that's part of the package. [X] hidden a secret Well, I kept a ring a secret. Meh, I've got all kinds of problematic skeletons in my closet. [X] pretended to be happy Nah, I just pretended to be indifferent. Now I am happy and there's nothing to pretend. [ ] got arrested I don't get caught. [ ] kissed in the rain I've still got a few days to make that one come true. Maybe it will rain Friday. Otherwise, there's always next year, and every year thereafter. [ ] slept under the stars For six months I slept in a window bed that had a glass ceiling? Does that count? [ ] kept your new years resolution I don't think I had any last year. I've got several planned for 2006. I've come a long way, but the journey is just beginning. [X] forgot your new years resolution Bingo. [X] met someone who changed your life Thank you, baby. (Bug off, Mia )[X] met one of your idols One of my idols died. Well, more like a role model. I did get a signed book by one of my idols though. [X] changed your outlook on life This happened over and over in 2006. I like my most current outlook the best: We never know what's in store and some things are beyond our control. All you can really do is work and try your best to make the most of what you have and enjoy every minute of any happiness you find. Never let words go unsaid or deeds undone, for you may never get the change again. Live in the moment but plan for the future, and always try to enjoy what you have rather than worry about what you might lose. [X] sat home all day doing nothing I'd hate my life if I never had days like this. [X] pretended to be sick I called in sick to work on Halloween. I coughed into my supervisor's voicemail. It was a decent fake, and there was really no reason for him to know that I was 5.5 hours north, cuddling in bed with my girlfriend. [ ] left the country When I drove back to Maine at 2:30 AM through the giant Coke can, I briefly wondered if I was in Toon Town. Is that out of the country? [X] almost died In January I was in an ATV accident. I broke my sternum and not much else. They told me if I was a smaller guy I'd be dead. At the time I wished I had been. It would have solved a lot of problems. But I was a big guy, and I still am, though not nearly as big. Hell, I've shed two shirt sizes since the accident. Who would have guessed years of pizza and ice cream would save my life? And now I'm cutting that out. Maybe I still have a death wish. Nah, I finally have a wish to live. [X] given up something important to you Last week I announced I'm done coaching baseball. My dad is giving it up, and as much as I enjoy it, we're a team. I'm nothing without him and vice versa. For five months of a year my dad and I shared something. We were on the same page and spent untold hours together. The rest of the year we fight. I wonder what will happen now. I don't want to loose the tenuous relationship I have with him, but I'm afraid it's going to slip away. We don't have anything else in common, and we likely never will. I don't want to be the lone Ernie. [ ] lost something expensive The only thing I lost was priceless, and I'd lose it again given the opportunity. [X] learned something new about yourself I learned that I can... [X] tried something you normally wouldnt try and liked it I could make a whole list just for these. Sometimes I shock my own family with the things I've been trying and enjoying lately. It's good to not be afraid so much. [X] made a change in your life Oh, let me count the ways... [X] found out who your true friends are Yes, I did. And I found out who wasn't too. [X] made a total fool of yourself If you have to ask that, you've obviously never met me. [X] met great people More every day [X] made new friends More every day [ ] snuck out What's with the juvenile curfew questions? I'm 26 freakin' years old. Damn, I'm old. [ ] got in trouble with police The state trooper was a little ticked about the accident and my lack of sense. Thankfully informing him that I was driving to Maine to propose to my girlfriend earned me some brownie points. [ ] kissed in a pool Hmmmm, I wonder if we could sneak into the other hotel and the indoor pool Friday. [X] kissed under the stars Does outside a Toys R' Us underneath the mistletoe I had kept in my pocket count? [X] kissed in a bed And how! [X] got wasted I tried. I'm a failure at being a drunk. Woe is me. [X] went to a party I helped host one no less. It cost me somewhere between $1500 and $2000. When the Beckwiths throw a party, we get it right. [X] had the time of your life The long drive back to Maine in the company of the woman I love... picture "The Safety Dance," lots of Survivor songs, many more 80's one-hit wonders, bad impressions, driving innuendos, hilarity at service stations, dinner at Applebees with erotic expressions and a little game of footsy, and every other little detail that provided me with the most hilarious, entertaining, erotic, and loving time of my life. It was on that drive that I realized this was the person I wanted to spend my life with. [X] danced Safety Dance! I declare the Safety Dance the official dance of 2005. I should retire it right now to forever honor its memory in this year. But hell, we can't give up the Safety Dance! [X] had a crush on someone Yes, and then some. [ ] changed your sexual preference Jodi accuses me of being gay. She should know I'm not, nor shall I ever be. In terms of changing preferences, I have a really bad and embarrassing joke to use here, but I won't. [ ] swam in the lake I can't swim. [ ] swam in a pool Well, that's redundant for me, isn't it? [ ] made a snowman Not yet. Gimme snow, Mother Nature! [ ] went snowboarding Yeah, I'm such a daredevil. [ ] went sledding We haven't had the opportunity. I look forward to it though. [ ] slept in past 2 pm Hey, hon, have we cuddled later than that? [X] held someones hand that you care about Every chance I get. [X] had a fling or relationship with someone Something like that. [ ] got wasted in a public place I'm working on it, gimme time. [ ] got wasted in mexico Vote for Pedro. [X] told someone you like them as more than a friend Best damn feeling of my life [X] took pictures What are we talking about exactly?  [ ] went on vacation I was going to Disney World in April. My grandfather died the night we were going to leave. I had a week off to do something in September. Both analysts gave their notice the Friday before I left. So no vacations this year. Next year is another year, and now there's someone to enjoy it with. [ ] went on vacation with a friend I'm starting to get bored with this survey. [X] drove a car Is this for real? Obviously the creator of this survey has ADHD. [ ] skinny dipped Puh-lease. I'm problematic, but I do have some respect for people's eyes. [ ] played strip poker Hmmmm, there's a couple days left to 2005. [X] went to a movie theater There was Star Wars, Batman Begins, Dukes of Hazzard to name a few. Star Wars stood out. Hopefully next year when I'm in a routine, the two of us will be able to go to the movies on a semi-regular basis. [ ] danced in the rain We got a couple days. [X] got in a car accident Ugh, don't remind me. Now I have to cover my aunt's $500 deductible. It would have been cheaper to get my van fixed and take that instead of borrowing her car. Hindsight is always 20/20. [X] saw someone get in a car accident It was a three car accident, so duh. [X] got in a fist fight Hmmmm, when's the last time Brian punched me. I never punch back though... instead I throw him over my shoulder and break his back over my knee. Little bastard. [ ] laughed until you couldn't breathe I don't think that's happened in a while. [X] lauged untill you cried Probably. [ ] peed your pants from laughing My brother's friend Keith, who I consider a little brother, laughs so hard he grabs his crotch, crosses his legs, and screams "I'm gonna piss my pants" in a high-pitched voice. He shoes horses and lifts weights. What a man. (And yes, I'm going to have him read this.)[X] had an amazing year Clearly you haven't been reading this entry. [ ] are going to look back with no regrets There are always regrets. The trick is minimizing them and not letting them fester. Let me know if you figure out how to do that. |
2005: A Year in Review [P E O P L E] 1. Best friend(s)?  Jodi, my best friend and so much more I could list my other closest friends, but I've made several this year, and for that I'm thankful. I won't risk forgetting to list one of them.2. Best boyfriend/girlfriend? The best and only, now and forever: Jodi 3. Lost any friends? Yes, and that turned out to be a good thing. No more hiding behind delusions. 4. Gained any friends? I gained many. I gained the love of my life, a slew of new W.com friends, friends at work, and mutual friends of my brother and sister. 5. Met a new good friend? See the answer above. Wow, this survey sucks. [P L A C E S] 1. Went out of the country? No 2. Moved? Yes, twice, and it nearly drove me to suicide. 3. New school? I haven't been in school since 2003. No wonder this survey is so crappy; it's designed for young'uns. 4. How many times on an airplane? Still zero. Maybe next year there will be a honeymoon and that will change. Only one person in the world I'd get on a plane with right now. 5. Road trips? I've lost track of how many. [Y O U] 1.Have you changed? The essence of me is the same, but almost a new person. I've changed in so many ways, all good thus far. I just wish I didn't have to wait until 2005. 2. New look? I grew a goatee and shed some pounds. The fur is staying and the weight will continue to go in 2006. 3. Braces off? Never had any, though I'm sure I should have. 4. Biggest conflict this year? I'm sure they were mostly internal. I'm not sure how many breakdowns I had in the early part of the year, but self-loathing drove me to the breaking point more than I care to remember. 5. Most depressed time this year? February through July was one big depress-fest. [L O V E] 1. Did you fall in love? Absolutely. 2. Did you get heartbroken? A few times, but never completely. And each time it heals it's stronger. 3. Who was your summer love? The same as my fall and winter love. The same love it will always be. Jodi. [S E A S O N S] 1. Favorite Season? Fall 2. Least favorite season? Spring 3. Good birthday? Only the best ever... minus the waitresses at the Weathervan singing Happy Birthday to me. Wicked wicked woman. 4. Any snow this year? What a pointless question. Yes. 5. Highest temperature? I've experienced the most heat towards the end of the year. [F I N A L Q U E S T I O N S] Snuck out- no Met a person who will change your life- I met a few that did, and one that will continue to do so forever Kept your resolution- Did I have one? Got arrested- Nope Had a first something- Yes, many Had a crush- Oh yeah Liked someone who didn't like you- Yes Lost a family member- Yes Got bad grades- No Got suspended- No Moved states- No, though I gladly would have Got a myspace- Yeah (which is where I stole this dumbass survey) Learned an instrument- No Started a band- No Spent over 1 million dollars- Who's the genius behind this survery? Went streaking- No, though supposedly I could be seen through the sliding glass door if the curtain was open. Done something you shouldn't have- Yeah, I'm problematic. Kept a secret- Hehehehe, only the biggest one ever! Told a secret- I have a big mouth sometimes. Done something you totally regret- Yeah, driving too close to the car ahead of me on I-495. Changed your view on things- Everything has changed. |
| Work is slow today, thanks in large part to a slew of processes failing to run Friday night. The result is me sitting here practically waiting for something to do. More accurately the result is me sitting here pining for this weekend and everything it entails with my fiancée. I predict the greatest New Year's weekend ever. That would be only logical considering this was the greatest Christmas ever. (Well, technically, no, Christmas day itself was just "meh", but the whole season was good, and celebrating it the weekend of December 16th was the best time of my life.) In the meantime though, I'm sitting here bored to tears waiting for the day and week to end. I have a great journal entry to write, but I have to save it until Friday because it entails a surprise. On the other hand I could write it anyway and leave it private to drive my readership wild. Now that sounds like a plan. Alternately I could write about my Santa Clause adventures on Christmas Eve, but I wonder if I lack the literary skill to turn that visual debacle into written imagery worthy of the laughter sparked by the actual event. Thirdly I saw an innane New Year's survey I could fill out. Typically it's the kind of mind-numbing garbage I would rather read than write, but this was the most significant year of my life, in both good and bad ways. Meh, maybe I'll fill out that craptacular survey and embellish it with dashing tales of my 2005 adventures. Sounds like a plan. In the meantime... Entertain me, people. C'mon, you know you want to. And I deserve it. I entertain you all often enough. I'll even offer up a prize. No rules or suggestions or named prizes. Simply entertain me and I'll make it worth your while. |
| This entry would have been better timed before Christmas, but alas I didn't have time to write anything between December 22rd and December 25th. The reason for that is I was too busy with last minute shopping, shopping that took far longer than it should have because people have no respect for fellow shoppers. And herein lies the content of this entry. Thursday I went to the mall during my lunch break for some last minute shopping. Surprisingly it wasn't too busy, but judging time to shop by crowd size is a poor measure. More important is the demographics of the current shopping crowd. Apparently the noontime, last minute shopping demographic is the elderly. The ironic thing about elderly shoppers is they've had many more years to learn proper shopping etiquette but are in fact the worst offenders of rude shopping behaviors. I blame it on a lack of direction and a refusal to hurry along. Certainly they usually have nowhere to go, bodies not fit for bustling, and little desire to do anything beside meander, but there's no reason to slow everyone down. To illustrate what I mean consider my shopping adventures that fateful Thursday. Have you ever tried shopping in a dollar store with a horde of geriatric shoppers? Old people don't move. They push around oversized carts, shop all the bargains, and to reiterate--they don't move! I wandered into the dollar store thinking I might find some stocking stuffers for my mom and sister. I walked out without purchasing anything, more from frustration than a lack of potential merchandise. Every aisle I walked down included at least two retirees standing there in the middle of the aisle with the carts they had dragged in from stores that might actually require a cart. I'd have to shoulder my way through because they wouldn't move. I think they were completely oblivious to my presence even. They were too absorbed in their shoddy $1 dinner glasses and $1 DVDs of "Bonanza." To digress for a moment, you know what's ironic about $1 DVDs of "Bonanza?" Only old people watch that show, but how many old people do you know that own and can operate a DVD player? See that's not something they buy for themselves. Instead they buy it for their unsuspecting grandchildren who are known to have DVD players. And herein is another shopping impropriety: buying a gift because it's cheap even though the recipient would rather receive nothing at all than something as loathesome as a "Bonanza" CD. But back to the point at hand: umoving elderly people blocking aisles. So they don't notice you, and even if they do, some are so oblivious to time that they'll stand there and assume you have as much time to stare at dollar store crap as they do. You must not have to hurry back to the retirement home either. Sometimes you can shoulder your way past or yell "Excuse me" into their hearing aides. Sometimes they'll move and sometimes they won't. When it got the point where I had to start backtracking and going down different aisles, I said to hell with it and left. Now just to be fair, I know it's not just the elderly. Some people are just plain rude. My brother and I once had a Christmas fantasy about finding all those rude shopping bastards, linking our arms together and just running down the aisles, clotheslining them all. He chickened out. What about the line cutters? The line cutters are usually the younger generation. I was at Best Buy and a middle-aged lady lugging bags was three shoppers ahead of me. The two twenty-something assclowns between us darted ahead as soon as the next register became available, effectively cutting her off. She made some grumbling remarks to me, which I further agreed with loud enough so the punks could hear me. They turned around and played innocent, to which we voiced our opinions. They said Merry Christmas or some such mocking nonsense, almost enough to make me want to bust heads, and then laughed at us. If only I had gotten out of line sooner, I could have followed them and slashed their tires. Tis the season. Apparently two bouncer-looking guys cut my brother and his buddy in the line at the mall wrapping station too. My brother's buddy Keith isn't one to back down from anything, so they must have been two big guys. I wonder if they cut in front of sick children and old ladies too. So this all culminates in a few questions. Why do people have to be such assholes when they're Christmas shopping? Why can't everyone understand that we're all out shopping, that we have places to go, budgets and time frames to work with? Why can't they just be considerate and accept that we are all dealing with the same stress and things would move much more smoothly and peacefully if they just followed some simple shopping etiquette? The answer is of course simple: people are selfish. Unfortunate yes, but a true statement about our society. |
 WARNING: Sappiness Alert!!! 1. Who do you want to be under the mistletoe with? My beautiful fiancee. Duh. Not that we ever need mistletoe. 2. What are your favorite Christmas memories? Clearly my favorite Christmas memory happened just last weekend when I celebrated Christmas with the future Mrs. Beckwith. You can read all about it here:
3. Where would you rather spend Christmas this year? In the arms of my fiancee. 4. What is your favorite Christmas song? "All I Want for Christmas is you." 5. What do you usually do Christmas morning? Wake up, scratch myself, take a leak, and open presents. 6. Have you bought all your presents yet? Yes, I have. It's 6:30 PM Christmas day; I'd be in trouble if I hadn't. Although my aunt gave me a post-dated check for Christmas, so I guess not everyone is done by Christmas. I understand though, she had to pay for the $1300 TV they bought two days ago. 7. What do you do on Christmas Eve? Go to my aunt's. What a horrible way to spend Christmas Eve. 8. Do you spend Christmas with a lot of family? Yes, which is both a blessing and a curse. Anyone with big, close-knit families knows what I mean. 9. Do you go anywhere special on Christmas (vacation)? Well, my real Christmas was last weekend, and I spent it in Maine, my home away from home. If Jodi wasn't set on moving here, I'd be glad to pack it up and head North. 10. How many items are on your wish list? I never actually made one, unless you count that limited thing on Amazon.com. I couldn't think of anything I wanted this year. I wanted someone, but not something. I got both.  11. What do you usually eat on Christmas? The three major food groups: sugars, candies, and chocolate. And Christmas dinner is turkey and mashed potatoes. How come there's no such thing as a Christmas pizza? 12. When did you find out Santa wasn't real? I was in fourth grade. When I was quite little my parents got a friend of theirs to dress up as Santa and come into our house on Christmas Eve. They put deer prints in the snow on the deck too. Having seen Santa, I of course believed he was real. From that point on I would see mall Santas and say "That's not Santa. I've seen the real Santa, and that's not him." When my friends told me Santa wasn't real, I went home and questioned my mom about it. I blubbered for an hour or two when my world was shattered with the truth. I was such a pansy. 13. Do you still make snowmen and snow angels? I haven't in a long while. Hopefully this coming New Year's weekend, when my fiancee is here, we'll have some more snow and we can venture into the field next to my parent's house to do exactly that. 14. Do you still have snow ball fights with your siblings/parent? Snowball fights? I prefer ice. My cousin threw snowballs at me just last night. I was in a Santa outfit too. What a little punk. More on this story in another entry. 15. What's your favorite Christmas movie? I'm not sure that I have one but I love the version of "A Christmas Carol" where George Scott plays Scrooge. And you can never discount Chevy Chase's "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation." It's a beaut, Clark, it's a beaut. 16. What do you like doing over the Christmas holidays? Anything and everything that is fun and gluttonous. Though the gluttony faded away this year. I ate a few Christmas cookies and felt like I was going to be sick. By next year I should actually be in good shape. 17. What do you plan to do for New Year's Eve? My mom and sister gave me the third greatest present ever for Christmas this year. They're putting Jodi and I up in a hotel and arranged for her to come here for the long weekend. New Year's Eve will be a party at my parents, a poker tournament, kissing Jodi at the stroke of midnight, watching my crazy relatives get drunk, and returning to the hotel room to make sweet sweet love to my fiancee. 18. What are your usual traditions on New Year's? My parent's usually have a party, but they haven't for a few years now, so this is going to be another good New Years. Unlike the rest of my boring relatives, our parties kick ass. 19. Got any resolutions? In order: 1) Bring Jodi happiness every day of the new year 2) Get our own place and get on our feet financially 3) Marry the love of my life 4) Be more financially responsible as I begin to settle down and potentially start a family 5) Get into the best shape of my life 6) Put to paper all the other resolutions I want to make 20. What's the weirdest thing you ever got for Christmas? Hand puppets from my parents. I was young and remember thinking how stupid and horrible they were. They were the only gift my parents gave me, and I didn't realize they were responsible for Santa Clause yet. The result is I fumed the whole year about the one crappy gift they got me for Christmas. 21. What's the most expensive thing you've gotten for Christmas? A shotgun. I shot it twice before selling it years later. Sorry, Dad. Actually, I shouldn't apologize. He actually sold it and kept the money for himself since he "bought it for me." Wow, thanks. I've bought a few expensive gifts though, most notably a Saint Bernard for my family and a diamond ring this year for a woman I am blessed to have in my life. 22. How early do you wake up on Christmas morning? When I was little, I was up before dawn. This morning I set my alarm for 7AM, and hit the snooze button. 23. What do you usually get in your stocking? Candy and little novelty items. I won't bore you with the details. 24. Who do you wish you could spend your Christmas with? C'mon now, does anyone really need to ask me this? Of course the answer is Jodi. At least we have New Years together. 25. If you could change one thing from the past year, what would it be? The death of my grandfather. That's out of my hands though, so if it must be something within my control I would expel those occasional bouts of insecurity. 26. What about the Holidays makes you sad? Not being able to hold her. 27. What makes you happy? Hearing her voice on the phone and discovering she'll be here next weekend. 28. Who do you normally spend Christmas with? My family, both immediate and extended. 29. What do you ABSOLUTELY WANT this Christmas? I already had everything I wanted and needed. What I had hoped for was given to me when she said "yes." 30. Any other things? I love you, baby. |
| Okay, here's a boring blog entry for my readers, but something I need to type out just to soothe my nerves... I miss her. It's painful to be apart. She's my fiancee, and this living apart crap is for the birds. I can't wait for the new year to get here, so I won't be broke anymore and I can move her here. I need her. The days are not complete without her. I feel joy and love with her that eludes me when we're apart. At night, when I cannot hold her, my heart aches, a dull pain shooting up my side and slowly coursing into my head where it throbs and unlocks the darkest corners of my psyche. I had no idea that love could be so painful if only separated from it for days at a time. And no, I'm not truly separated from love. We talk every day, and the love grows every day. Our hearts swell over silly little phrases swapped over the phone. Yet it's not the same. Holding her, caring for her, protecting her is what I need. I need to stare into those eyes, watch those lips curl into a smile because of some joy I brought her, feel her chest rise and fall against my arm when I hold her at night, feel her lips against mine... I just plain need her. The stress of Christmas and upcoming bills is slowly driving me insane, and I know all the stress would just vanish when I wrap my arms around her. It always does. I realized yesterday that somehow, inexplicably, I'm broke. Every expense I could imagine has reared it's ugly head the last quarter of this year, and somehow I'm broke and behind on bills. Have I been that irresponsible with my money? Apparently I have. Certainly my frequent weekend excursions have something to do with that, Halloween and Christmas play an even larger piece, and unexpected vet bills have drained me. And now I have to get my van fixed. I'm afraid to find out how much that will cost. I'm beginning to develop a plan. When I get my first paycheck of the year, I'm going to get my van fixed and take a sizable chunk out of one of my credit cards. I'll trade my van in for something with lower monthly payments and better gas mileage. With each paycheck thereafter I'll chip away at the credit cards, paying them off one by one. Thankfully with the holidays gone I'll have plenty of extra cash to finally get ahead after paying my monthly bills. I'm going to find an apartment, hopefully at a reasonable price. We're going to move her here and find her a job. I'll be able to make all the payments, and hopefully she can pay for our weekend trips back to Maine to visit her family. I just feel like I'm treading water, barely staying afloat, until I get her here and start to stabilize. Is it all just a need to settle down? A need to stabilize? Ironically I'm looking to add a major monthly bill in the form of rent, but that will actually help me, because I'll have someone contributing and I won't have so many unexpected expenses. Things will settle into a routine. *sigh* I need some stability bad right now. |
| Christmas came early this year, December 17th to be exact. Many wonderful things happened this past weekend, along with a few traumatic things too. But someone special has already written about that, so I'll keep my little entry to what I received on "Christmas" morning. My fiance, though she didn't know she was until later that morning, had planned the perfect Christmas morning. It was an amalgamation of creativity, perfection, and love, a trio that seems to follow her everywhere. I had no idea I was in store for the twelve days of Christmas. She had arrayed my gifts in clusters around the tree, and set a small book in front of my lap and instructed me not to open it. After I opened each gift or cluster of gifts, I was instructed to turn the page. So here they are, my twelve days of Christmas: 1... random book that [I] wanted! It was A Feast for Crows by George R R Martin. This is the guy I want to emulate. Robert Jordan is my hero, but this is the guy who writes fantasy so flawlessly that I actually read his stories with scrutiny, trying to learn from each of his carefully crafted sentences. If I turn out half as good a writer of epic fantasy as him, I'll be proud... and profitable. 2... packages of colognes! Me?! Cologne?! Can you freakin' believe it? I actually tried some on Sunday. Though Jodi's sister had to tell me it goes on my neck, not on my nose. I left one package at my second home in Maine and my other in my home in Massachusetts. I can't believe I'm going to wear cologne. Before Sunday the only fragrance I'd ever worn had been garlic breath and body odor. Jodi tell me these smell better. God, I'm so whipped.3... crazy stooges! Yup, she got me DVDs of "The Three Stooges." I say "certainly!" once in a high-pitched Curly voice, and she forever remembers my love for the stooges. Seriously now how can you not bust a cap laughing at the stooges? (Did I just say "bust a cap?" What the hell does that mean? Did I become a gangsta just now?) I'm watching those today. And if Shemp is in any of the episodes, I swear I'll scream bloody murder. 4... items to keep you warm! The items included two long-sleeved shirts, a T-shirt, and a gorgeous fleece jacket. My clothes have slowly been dwindling as I've lost weight and inches and can no longer find anything to fit into, so this was the first Christmas I thrilled to see clothes under the tree. No way in hell I'm going to spend my hard-earned cash on clothes for myself. I'm still a boy at heart. 5... BASEBALL THINGS! First off I got a new tea mug with a baseball bat handle and baseball paraphenalia painted on the sides. Something about sipping tea with my pinky extended and spouting with my best British accent seems odd whilst holding a mug dedicated to America's pasttime. But then I am problematic afterall. To go with it I got two baseball books, one highlighting baseball firsts and the other detailing the Golden Age of baseball. I nearly orgasmed right then and there. And then I had a little Christmas tree ornament with a baseball and jersey with my name hand-written on it. I hung it on our tree, and it will be used again next Christmas. Just one of many ornaments we'll accumulate together. The final baseball item was a framed photo of Ty Cobb and Shoeless Joe Jackson, two of the all-time greatest hitters. Yes, they didn't smack homeruns like Ruth or Williams or Aaron, but they slapped the ball around and got on base like nobody's business. They stand first and third on the all-time batting average list. Any muscle-bound dolt can swing for the fences or juice up on 'roids, but these guys played with finesse and made hitting an art form. That photo will be displayed prominently in my little baseball shrine wherever the two of us end up spending our lives together.6... pair of socks! Luck would have it I forgot socks that weekend, and Jodi had gotten me some for Christmas. Whether she was tired of seeing the holes in my socks or sick of smelling my feet is unknown, but the gift could not have come at a better time. And somehow she found some really big ones. You know what they say about big feet... you have to wear big socks. 7... poker-related gifts! Three of my poker gifts came in little Chinese restaurant containers festooned with holiday writings. At first I thought Jodi had gotten me a pint of white rice for Christmas. The poker items inside were a wonderful surprise, but now I have an odd craving for white rice. They included a golden card guard with an emblem of a pair of aces, a little sack of chocolate poker chips, and three collectible World Poker Tour chips. Next came a gorgeous paperweight sculpted to look like three stacks of poker chips of varying denominations, two no-limit hold'em tournament books written by "Action Dan" Harrington, and a DVD of the life story of Stu Unger, one of poker's greatest and most tragic players. Thanks for feeding my addiction, babe. 8... Will have to wait!!! I didn't get number 8 until after all the other presents, not until after I proposed actually. It was my favorite gift by far, and as I looked through it I cried from happiness for the first time ever in my life. It's a scrapbook devoted to the two of us, adorned with many appropriate and inspiring quotations, symbols of our love, and personal writings about this emotion we share. I won't try to describe it here, because words cannot adequately show this sentimental gift and how much it meant to me. It's a gift I'll treasure the rest of my life. 9... sweet, sweet kisses! For number nine I had to find a little envelope leaning against a Christmas tree limb. I opened it up and read the little card inside: "9 sweet kisses!" I relished each and every one, and then stole a tenth just because I'm a greedy bastard. Though is it really stealing when you take from someone who offers it willingly? 10... fingered, fleece gloves! Wow, gloves that actually fit my large, strong, manly hands. And now I have something to mold that snowman with. I can see it now, singing and acting out "Walking in a Winter Wonderland." "In the meadow, we can build a snowman/And pretend that he is Parson Brown./He'll say 'Are you married?'/We'll say 'No, man./But you can do the job while you're in town.'" Nah, we'll get a real minister. No way I'm getting married in a snowsuit and missing my opportunity to wear a tuxedo with tails and top hat. 11... minutes to a better shave! Oooooooh, a new Norelco electric razor! Woohoo! No more rubbing that old, crappy electric razor over my face again and again and again until I'm sore and calloused just to eliminate that homeless five o'clock shadow look I've been sporting lately. My cheeks are nearly as smooth as a baby's bottom. Maybe now I won't itch her so much when I'm being intimate. ... I'm kidding! Jeezum!12... Men Without Hats songs! Two words: Safety Dance!  The greatest gift of all was not written in her litle book because she never knew she'd be giving it to me. It took minimal effort on her part, and cost her no American currency. She gave me the very thing I'd wanted the most: her heart. And she gave it to me with the single word "yes." Thank you, honey, for the greatest Christmas ever. |
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