p i double s e d

I am as salty as the Dead Sea today and am having trouble shaking it off. We went to a surprise birthday party in the hood last night and this mood is a direct result. For a number of years I had the tag line “the only form of therapy I can afford” for this site and that is exactly what I am using it for right now. Before I begin the party was a lovely affair complete with relatives from all over and cute octogenarian elderly.

Things began in a bumpy place as I went in search of a beer but the cooler was filled with undrinkables. A dude that I had never met before asked if I was looking for a particular brand and when I mentioned Diet Coors I got a distinct beer shame vibe. He pointed to the location and when I got there they were arranged on the table without an ice cube in sight.

I am not as soft as this seems so I cracked open a warm one and took some more over to the ice. The dude mumbled something about not thinking anyone really drank blah blah boring beer douche. After the second luke warm can I switched over to big boy drinks while I waited for the cooling to take place. This is neither here nor there but by the time we left the party I was on a nice little roll.

At a point just before we left my wife was trying to scrape another guest off on me but I wasn’t having it. The exchange felt weird because I had already done my time with this ghost from the neighborhood past. This particular idiot used to live in our hood and was loosely affiliated with our friend group. They moved away to build a much bigger house. His wife is a lovely individual and the ladies were sad to see her go. The dudes were not really upset at all.

Anyhow, time passed, he cheated, they got divorced, no more shits were given. Then last night as we were walking to the car I asked why she tried so hard to scrape him off on me. Turns out that just before the scraping attempt this fella told my wife that he had always had a big crush on her but please don’t tell Tom because he will kill me. I wanted to go back in and chat but the cooler head in the car that wanted to go home prevailed.

I was going to bounce right back after dropping her off but was reminded about the hosts being upset not to mention all of the relatives etc. My friends would have been entertained but pretty much everyone else would have been pissed. I get it, bleeding guy with the broken nose gets all the sympathy. I explained that I could ask him to go outside before we talked but was convinced he probably would not follow. So, faced with a potential birthday party ruin, I stayed put.

I was so pissed I could not sleep… Turning this over in my brain like a psychopath, Obsessing over his end game. I’m sure that line has worked for him at some point but I have a burning need to explain that words can sometimes have physical consequences.

If you are thinking I’m better than that you couldn’t be more wrong. I have a self-flipping-bitch-switch that is currently set on revenge. Pair that with the memory of an elephant and you can make sure that a discussion will take place. My wife is going to be so pissed when this goes down but I feel like an olden times guy who took a glove to the face.

For those keeping score at home this did not help at all. Still pissed but this will be the last time I write about it until the court proceedings are complete.

on tilt

I am in the midst of One of Those Days where the line between calm and triggered is razor-thin. I know it’s all me because in my various interactions so far I am the only constant but it doesn’t take the scientific method to figure out that I am the asshat in the room.

Part of this is the past two weeks on the road with only a single days break in between. The first was a solid week of teaching which means good mood and game face every day. These people pay a lot of money to have me out and they deserve no less than my best shot. I caught a mild case of food poisoning halfway through that trip but once again that had nothing to do with the business that contracted my services so I just had to suck it up, literally, and finish strong.

I do this corny thing every morning when I’m on the road but for some reason I’m hesitant to write about it here. Screw it, very few folks read this crap anyway and I have a high embarrassment tolerance anyway… (how about you delay a little more high tolerance guy)

So I tell myself every morning before I leave the hotel room that I’m going to have a great day. I say it in the mirror over and over until I believe it. Some times it’s a one shot deal other days like last week might take a half-dozen or so. For those old enough to remember Stuart Smalley from Saturday night live it’s a harsher, shorter, and more meant to knock me out of whatever petty worry is currently consuming my brain cycles. Dumb as it sounds it works.

This probably has a lot to do with the fact that I am laughing at myself every time I do it but what the hell. I don’t do this at home because this is my happy place. My office is truly one of my favorite spaces on the planet and I don’t find a need to gear up when I’m here. Except this morning.

Now that I’ve typed about it there is no way I’m searching out a mirror just to try to turn this tugboat around. And speaking of mirrors (approacheth the segue king) Anyone who maintains fancy facial hair for long is an asshole. This crazy long moustache is really getting on my nerves. I wake up to one side or another sticking straight out of my face. If I don’t plaster it down with some product or another it keeps finding a way into my mouth. Add to that the fact that it keeps showing up in my peripheral vision and the clock is ticking on this thing.

It’s too bad because it makes me laugh every time I see a reflection but it doesn’t grow away from my lips and into a villain curl all by itself. Probably kissing this thing goodbye (pun not intended but welcomed none the less) tonight as I have had all I can stands and I can’t stands no more.

Nanowrimo is no mo

I think I mentioned that I was participating in National Novel Writing Month which is an online challenge where you crank out a 50,000 word book by the end of November. It’s not supposed to be great and I think it’s designed to just accomplish the task. I failed this like I was getting paid to do so.

The first week I used a stream of consciousness journal technique that yielded some results. Then a switch was flipped and this fun little side project turned into a complete pain in my ass. I have an idea going that I really like and have now lowered my sites as I shoot for a rough outline by months end.

Part of my problem comes from just cranking out words. I want to write something I would actually read and words for word count sake doesn’t fit. Plus, if I just wanted to jam words together I’ve written way more than 50k here so I could have just cut and paste my way to a win. Except that would be as soft as a shoe full of shit so no thanks.

My day was immediately better when I turned on the tv this morning and found my favorite big and tall weatherman.

So much style packed into an oversized package. I love this dude as much as I love all small market local news.

So this happened

The mustache has reached an awesome and awkward stage right now and I am firmly on the fence about it. On the one hand it is majestic and curly which makes me laugh every time I see myself in the mirror. But on the other hand it is turning into a bit of a pain in the ass or more anatomically correctly, pain in the upper lip.

If I were to keep something like this on a regular basis it would require products and regular topiary type maintenance. I’m not really sure I’m up to the task. But it also makes me laugh every morning as I glance in the mirror and see my bed face. one side of this thing all jacked up and sometimes pointing straight out in a mirror image 3D effect.

So for right now and probably until the end of Movember it stays. I can wear my hair down if I want to be more casual and for things like work related video recordings where I need to look kind of like the guy in the other ones.

I should also mention that this thing is definitely polarizing. No one is really undecided. They either love it or hate it and my bride is firmly planted in the second camp. Life, much like my facial hair, can be a pisser some times.