Thursday, May 31, 2007

Another popularity contest

Anyone watching the new show called On the Lot? It’s another one of those reality shows where the public votes for their favorites, only this one is with budding directors and the prize is a $1 million deal with Dreamworks. I like the concept, but as always I HATE the fact that the first half of the season is nothing but a popularity contest.  True the most talented guy was in the top three, but the bottom three seriously did not deserve to be there. They weren’t great, but there were much worse ones that needed to go.

The sad thing is, the bottom three that were voted off were the three foreigners with accents—a girl from Spain, a girl from Italy, and a guy from England. My theory is that the rest of the group, however undeserving, had their mass-voting support group here in the U.S. while the unlucky ones from Europe had their support group overseas and unable to vote for them. This is why I much prefer the shows where the judges do the voting off, like in America’s Next Top Model and Hell’s Kitchen.

Oh well, it’s still an interesting show. I like it tons better than American Idol. You get to see a little more of each person’s personality, which is what I like. I want to be able to relate to (or despise) these contestants. On American Idol it’s just a bunch of people singing. We’ll just have to grit our teeth and stick it out until it become a talent contest later in the show instead one based solely on how big your family and group of friends are.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Who Wants to be a Superhero?

I just found out that there’s going to be a second season of Who Wants to be a Superhero? on the SciFi channel. I’m kind of excited because I rather enjoyed the first one. My sweety didn’t really like it much because of the very high cheese factor involved. I’ll admit, it really is kind of cheesy, but I didn’t mind because I really liked the ideas behind it. It’s not about having actual super powers or even about your character’s story. It’s about having the innate qualities that embody a superhero, the stuff that makes an average person stand out in their desire to help others.

Considering my superhero fetish and the fantasy that I could be one, I briefly thought, “I wonder how well I would do on the show? I really do like helping people.” I thought about cool superhero names and, after only a few minutes, came up with “Gunshy”. Kinda suits me, I think. I don’t like loud noises and prefer nonviolent methods to solve problems. Never been a big fan of guns either, I imagine myself to be a kickass acrobatic martial arts expert. (I’m totally dreaming here, I’m about as limber and coordinated as a farm cow.)

Out of curiosity I looked up casting information. Hey, they probably pay you to be on the show, right? It was already too late as they did the casting call in January, but that’s all right. I wasn’t serious about it anyway, just curious. I thought about all the things they made the contestants do… a lot of embarrassing yourself in public. Definitely not for me. I don’t need that kind of spotlight. Yes I’m cheesy, but I don’t need to prove just how big a cheese I am to the viewing public. I’ll just continue doing my own thing, occasionally embracing my superhero spirit by being a do-gooder whenever the opportunity presents itself. Time to go help the old lady lift that heavy thing…

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Have a period or something!

We rented Alpha Dog over the weekend. Justin Timberlake is a surprisingly good actor (with a perfect body, yow). It’s not the kind of movie I normally enjoy (lots of gangbanger posturing) but it’s an interesting look into their lives, how a person with lots of potential to do good can make bad decisions or resort to inaction out of fear. (Those of you who recall back when we had bought a house and were renting out the guest house in the back, the renter’s boyfriend who gave us all sorts of trouble was as tattooed as these guys in the movie. It’s very realistic!)

Anyway, one of the funniest parts of the movie (though it’s definitely not a comedy) is when one of the girls in the movie finds out that the kid hanging around the house is a kidnapping victim. She begins to freak out and starts yelling and screaming at Justin’s character, Franky. She seriously looks like she’s about to have a stroke she’s flipping out so badly. Franky yells back, “Calm down! Have a period or something, geez!” My sweety and I started laughing because we both are much more emotionally on edge just before our cycles start. As soon as it does start, then we’re mellow and everything is back on an even keel. It’s a funny moment in the movie because it’s so true.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Peer into my soul with an astrological lens

I was born an Aries, the bold and fearless ram. If only I were bold and fearless. I do share most of the Arien qualities (not to be confused with Aryan white supremacists!)—I’m honest, optimistic, quick tempered, quick to forget anger, holds no grudges, gets bored easily, self absorbed, quick witted, idealistic, full of energy, and totally not graceful in any way. Fits me to a T.

So what happened to the Aries traits that I so admire in other people? The confidence, charisma, ambition, and desire to lead? I’ve read some descriptions that say, although most Aries folks are very much the highly confident, outspoken, leap before you look kind of people, there are a few who are shy and quiet sheep because their delicate egos were crushed early in life.

This makes sense to me, because my very hot-tempered mom was quite controlling and critical. I’ve never taken criticism well (damn my delicate ego), but even if I did, always being told I could do better during my formative years does things to you. How can you build confidence when you start believing that you’re not good enough? How can you become a socially charismatic talker when you grew up always fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing, fearful of excessive punishments and tongue lashings?

This pattern, this fear of what other people think, became imprinted upon my very core. I’ve gained a good deal of confidence in myself and my capabilities over the years, but it’s a tenuous confidence that could easily be toppled because its foundation is weak. Its foundation is riddled with awkwardness and self doubt.

If you’re a parent, it’s natural to want what’s best for your child. Of course you want your child to strive for the best, but be careful how you go about it. A constant voice telling you that you could do better is easily translated into “you’re not good enough”. Be wary of this and remind the kid of how awesome they are, especially when they don’t do so well. And as far as discipline goes, it’s definitely necessary that they respect you, but don’t ever let it get to the point where they fear you. I was the most well-behaved child anyone ever saw because I was afraid of my mom. I constantly scrutinized my every move, thinking about how she might react to it. I practiced avoidance whenever possible.

Everything you learn as a child, you take with you into adulthood. So parents, don’t crush your child’s spirit and confidence. Even if it was unintentional, it will still turn a bold, fearless ram into an uncertain, timid sheep.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Adults only = no kids = happy me!

Deciding to go to Cancun was the easy part. The hard part was actually finding a place we were willing to plunk down so much money for. TripAdvisor.com had tons and tons of reviews of all the hotels there, and I read until I got cross-eyed, and then read some more. After awhile it seemed like they were almost all the same.  There were always people who love love loved it, and those who thought it was the worst experience ever.

We really liked the Westin and the Hilton because of their super-comfy beds, but they weren’t all-inclusive resorts. It seems like all the all-inclusives within our price range had rock hard beds. Oh well, as long as we get soft pillows we can manage. We finally settled on one that was all-inclusive, within our price range, had more good reviews than bad, and the best part… adults only!

It’s called Blue Bay Getaway and Spa, and no kids are allowed. I’m lovin’ that part. Kids are already obnoxious. Put them on vacation and they become little missiles hurtling themselves everywhere at full volume.

Of course, adults-only could be a double-edged sword. The clientele are those who don’t want to be around kids either, so they may be there just to get plastered every night. But I didn’t get that impression from the reviews. There will be some people like that in all the resorts, but this one seemed to have a lot of couples who are just looking to take a break. One part that intriged me was the adult-themed activities, most of which include nudity. Someone talked about naked bingo and naked water volleyball. You won’t catch me participating, but I’ll be perfectly happy as a spectator!

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Thinking about germaphobes

A couple posts ago I was talking about a germaphobe at the gym (though, according to Annie, she wasn’t a true germaphobe because what was she doing trying to use public sweaty equipment in the first place?) Quite a few of you expressed a similar fear of germs, which got me curious.

I like to understand everything around me, so I looked up a little info on “germaphobia”, which I knew wouldn’t be the official term for the condition, but it was a starting point.  According to Wikipedia, it’s actually called “mysophobia”. It’s often linked to OCD, but not always. The article lists the following as characteristics of this condition:

• Obsessive washing, such as repeated handwashing.
• Avoidance of activities that involve uncleanliness.
• Unwillingness to share food, utensils, and other personal items.
• Reluctance toward engagement in social situations that which may involve close groups of people or animals.
• Unwillingness to touch doorknobs directly.

Does this describe you? I guess Annie was right, that lady at the gym wasn’t a true germaphobe. Just a paranoid weirdo I guess.  I have some questions though, and please don’t get offended if they sound stupid, because it’s just me being ignorant.

1. What are your feelings on yogurt?
It’s made with bacteria, though it’s the good kind that are beneficial to your digestive system. Are they to be eradicated along with the doorknob germs? Is yogurt usually avoided because of the germ factor? What about sour cream?

2. Do non-germaphobes seem like horrible slobs?
I tried to think of it from the perspective of a germaphobe, and I would think that people like me are colossal germy slime pits. I touch doorknobs, shopping carts and gym equipment with my bare hands and do not worry about washing them. I blow my nose at the dinner table (because the alternative, having a runny nose, is much more disgusting to me). I pick food that I dropped off the floor or table and, provided it looks clean, I’ll eat it anyway (the 5-second rule, though for me it’s more like a 10-second rule). I’m a walking germ farm, aren’t I?

3. How often do you get sick?
Like weese, I tend to think germs make you stronger. You get exposed to them, your immune system dispatches things to take care of them. The more you’re exposed to, the more you’ll be resistant to. Some doctors believe that kids who are overprotected from germs grow up to be less resistant to them. I get sick maybe once a year. I’m curious about how often germaphobes get sick.

Monday, May 21, 2007

Scatterbrainedness: A most annoying trait

I’ve mentioned on prior occasions that I’m quite the scatterbrain. I’ll get up to fetch a glass of water, get distracted by someone else needing a fork, and then sit back down only to realize I still need a glass of water. Remotes get misplaced in the stupidest places because I set them down on my way to get something else. It’s very annoying, but mostly harmless.

I set a new standard for scatterbrainedness this weekend. I was trying out a new hair salon to get a haircut. The only parking available was metered parking on the street. I made a mental note to myself to drop a few coins in the meter as I searched for the salon. I was seven minutes late for my appointment (I HATE being late for appointments, but it’s not my fault I had to wait for people). I finally found it and was happy that it didn’t look scary. Yay for not scary! So I hopped out of the car and went in.

You know what I forgot, right? The thought never even crossed my mind once, not even briefly, during the hour and a half I was in there. I came out and found a ticket on my windshield. Crap. Mental notes suck. I need mental post-its or something.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Germaphobes at the gym

I find germaphobes to be an odd bunch. They’re usually excellent bloggers, but in real life they’re a bit freaky to me. (I’m sure I’m freaky to them too.) I saw one at the gym for the first time yesterday. She approached an exercise bike, but before sitting down, she busted out a bottle of anti-bacterial gel and started rubbing it all over the seat with her towel.  She did the same thing to the handlebars.

Okay, I can understand the handlebars, but she was wearing pants. Was slathering the seat in gel really necessary? What exactly did she expect people to be leaving there anyway? She preferred to risk having damp spots on her ass to picking up whatever she was imagining to be there. So, this is fine. If putting this stuff on the equipment she uses makes her feel better, then go right ahead. But the odd thing was she kept looking around like she was paranoid. She caught me watching her odd behavior once. (I was pulling on some weights while facing her direction, what else was I supposed to do?) Even while she was peddling she kept looking around her like she was expecting a serial killer to sneak up on her and slit her throat. Maybe she was paranoid that some germ-ridden bacteria farm of a person might come near her.

My next question: Why gel? Isn’t that kinda gross to sit on? I mean, squish! Hasn’t she heard of Lysol wipes? Well, whatever, I don’t use the exercise bikes anyway. Germaphobes are fine, kinda funny to me. But the paranoid ones are just creepy.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Relaxation

When you think of relaxing, most people tend to picture a hammock in the tropics with a pina colada in hand. Oddly, I find this more to be a picture of boredom. I absolutely cannot stand doing nothing. I can lay in a hammock, but only if I have a book or a crossword puzzle or something. I can’t take naps unless I’m completely exausted and lacking in sleep. Or completely bored out of my mind, like on a long, long road trip with nothing to do.

I can’t stand doing nothing! Waiting is one of the biggest peeves on my list. My idea of relaxing is playing a video game, reading or watching a movie. In thinking about it some more, it occurred to me that my idea of relaxation is usually some form of escapism. I have a very active imagination and can get wrapped up in a fantastic story. This is why I hate unhappy endings. Who wants to escape into that?

I wondered briefly, what am I escaping from? Nothing in particular really. Just reality and all the things that are wrong with it—injustices towards people, towards the environment, things I get mad about because people are so stupid. I can shake my tiny fist and scream with my tiny voice, but all that results in is more frustration. So I just do what I can in my own little way (recycle, exercise fairness, vote against ignorant assholes, etc.) and forget about the rest by escaping with my sweety into worlds where laughter and romance are important, justice prevails, and the bad guy gets it in the end.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Quiero mas dinero para un vacacion por favor

When we cancelled our Napa Valley trip, we weren’t all that bummed out. I guess that means we didn’t really want to go all that much. But we’d still like to go somewhere. My sweety’s brother was telling us what a great time he had in Cancun. He painted quite a pretty picture with good food and pretty sights, so now we’re wanting to go too.

We started looking around online at the different hotels. Wow. There are soooo many! We read review after user review, for hours! After awhile they all started sounding the same. How the heck do you choose one when you’ve never been? Her brother said the one he was at was okay, but his standards are a little different from ours. He’s willing to put up with a little more crap and discomfort than we are. Here’s our criteria, in order of importance:

1. Not too much over $100 a night
2. Comfortable beds
3. Quiet at night
4. Good food
5. No hordes of children

We’ve encountered way too many places that believe they can slap some padding onto some plywood and call it a bed. Or at least it felt that way. Don’t listen to your grandparents. A hard mattress is not better for your back. I found a Hilton with some reviews saying how very comfortable the beds were. It sounded really good, unfortunately it was $149 a night. A week of that is already over $1000, and that doesn’t even include tax. We’d like to eat too, so that’s not gonna work. I guess we just have to keep looking!

Friday, May 11, 2007

Trash Day

Yesterday evening we were relaxing in front of the TV when someone starts ringing the doorbell, banging on the door and calling us from outside. We’re all, “What the hell?” because we have no idea who it is and why they would need us to answer the door so urgently. Was someone bleeding? On fire? Being chased by thugs? No, it was our cranky neighbor. She wanted me to move my car so she could put her trash cans out onto the curb next to her driveway.

WTF? There was plenty of space behind it for that, but no, she had to have it right next to her driveway.  She could have even put the receptacles in front of her driveway. It’s not like she parked in her driveway anyway. I was about to go move my car to appease the beast when my sweety says, “No, let me do it.”

She takes the keys and moves the car back far enough to allow for her stupid trash cans. As she’s heading back to the house, the cranky neighbor lady still wasn’t appeased.

Cranky: You should move the car somewhere else.
Sweety: You have enough room.
Cranky: The lady next door needs to put her trash out too.
Sweety: It’s fine where it is. You don’t own the street!

This is why she went instead of me. She knew I would have been meek, not said a thing, and moved the car again because I’m very non-confrontational. I’m glad she said something. Seriously, unless there’s a sign or a painted curb telling us we can’t park there, we can park wherever we damn well please. Your property ends at the sidewalk, lady. I’ve seen streets that were clogged completely full of parked cars on trash day. People just put their trash cans farther out into the street so the trucks can get to them. No big deal.

At the last house we lived at, the neighbors across the street were like that. They asked people to move their cars away from the front of their house. It was annoying, but at least they had good reason. There were constantly short-buses pulling up to drop off the handicapped people that they looked after for a living. But this lady, she was just being a crotchety old bitch. I’ve never seen her smile and she never looks in our direction or says hi. Nothing. She stalks to and from her car every day without so much as a glance. The only time she talks to us is to complain about something. I don’t want to be buddy-buddy with my neighbors or anything, but there’s no need to radiate bitterness to everyone around you. Chill out lady. Have some sex. And find a good doctor to pull that log out of your ass.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Not quite as bizarre as the others

Had one of those fairly vivid dreams, but this one isn’t quite as weird as my other ones. I dreamed a bunch of coworkers were meeting at this place. Not sure what kind of place, but it was inside and had a bunch of chairs like a waiting room. We were all supposed to meet there, then caravan as a group to some ice cream parlor, likely a Baskin Robbins. (Why couldn’t we just meet directly at the ice cream place?)

Before we go, they hand out coupons to everyone. There’s some kind of special going on at four different locations of this ice cream chain, but the nearest one is like 10 miles away. Seriously, we’re all going to drive 10 miles as a group to this place just to save a couple bucks? There has to be one closer, right? Doesn’t matter, this group wants to save a couple bucks (which they will likely waste on gas trying to get there).

I look around for someone to carpool with. No sense in everyone driving separately, right? Everyone is gone. The place is empty. Fuckers. I go out to the parking lot and suddenly remember that I had ridden my bike there. (A bike that I haven’t owned since I graduated college.) It was locked up against a chain link fence along with a couple other broken down bikes with flat tires. Great, I have to ride home and get my car. I remember thinking I should get my sweety’s car so I can use its navigation system. I get on the bike, ride about three feet, and find out that my tires have disintegrated. Not just flat, they’re tattered shreds, and the rims are completely warped so the bike is totally unrideable. *sigh* Looks like I’m walking.

Good thing I woke up then. Who knows what else would’ve gone wrong.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

This is why I'm hot

Unfortunately it’s not because I’m fly. It’s because it’s freaking 95 degrees outside! Days like this, spending 8+ hours chained to a corporate office desk definitely has its perks.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

The Fight Party that never was

Over the weekend was The Fight. Not that I follow boxing or anything, but it’s kind of hard to go about your day without hearing about it. It seems to be as good as the Superbowl in terms of an excuse to party. Last Thursday my sweety informs me…

Her: Oh by the way, my family is coming over this weekend to watch the fight.
Me: Oh really? Which ones? (She’s got 3 siblings in the area, each with their own families.)
Her: All of them. My brother got in a fight with DevilWoman. So they won’t be watching it at her house anymore.
Me: Oh. Okay. Um… what channel is it on?
Her: It’s on Pay Per View. My brother said he’ll pay for it.
Me: That’s cool… only… um, we don’t have Pay Per View.

We have analog cable instead of digital, and Time Warner moved all the good channels off analog so more people would switch to digital. Thus we have no Pay Per View and no Fight. But all was not lost. We found out that it was one of her niece’s (she has soooo many!) birthday, so it turned into a birthday party instead. With really gross cake.

But I got to play lots of video games, so it was all good.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Simple, crude, funny

The building across the street from where I work has changed occupants. I saw workers putting the new company sign on the building. It said, “Rectifier”. I couldn’t help it. I giggled like a 12-year old Beavis and Butthead groupie. “Uhh uhuhuhuh… you said...”

Speaking of rectal jokes, I’m reminded of my 7th grade math teacher who was quite the punster. Most kids didn’t appreciate his humor, but it was right up my alley. One of his jokes stands out in my mind. It’s a simple sentence: “She shaved her legs and wrecked ‘em.” You have to say it aloud for its humor to come through. Funny stuff, right? Hey I was a 7th grader, give me a break.

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