About Time

1. I like to look at the year in which coins were minted and think about where I was at that time.

2. I like to imagine how my past self would view my current life if they were watching it like a movie. I'll be driving home, for example, and think, "What would the me of x years ago think if he came in on me at this moment and saw my family, job, home, etc?"

Memory

Here's an IM conversation I recently had with my friend Amanda.

me:  I have a question

Amanda:  yes

me:  Why do fancy, memory foam bath mats exist?
Who needs luxurious cushioning on something you step on for 5 seconds a day?

Amanda:  You bought it didn't you? Since when has this society based purchases on actual needs?
Why does that foam need to remember? That's my question.

me:  I think we'd all prefer it if our possessions forgot how much we weigh.

Bumper Battles

Okay, seriously. Enough is enough.

In a couple weeks, I will have had my driver's license for 15 years. In all that time, nobody has ever hit my car. In fact, let's back it up and say I've never been hit by a car even as a passenger.

Until last week.

I was driving home on the freeway, and it was one of those weird days where traffic seems fine, and then you're slamming on your brakes all of a sudden, which I did, just managing to stop before hitting the car in front of me. Then I heard a squeal of burning rubber from behind me, and I got bumped by that guy, who couldn't stop soon enough. We got out any checked things out, and I just had a little paint flaking off my bumper. No big deal, so I said we wouldn't worry about it.

Fast forward to last night. I was on my way to my friend Jer's wedding dinner (who was also in an accident this week). I was stopped at the end of the freeway offramp, when the guy behind me somehow accelerated into me. I got out and found yet more paint flaking off my bumper, but no apparent cracks or dents. Since I was worried about being late, I again decided to be nice and not involve the authorities.

So, I'm getting sick of this. The next person who hits my car is getting sued.

Draft, Mark 2

Here are a few more posts I started but never finished.

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Things that wouldn't make me cry:

If my car was hit... by the Publishers Clearinghouse Prize Patrol van bringing me a check for $10 million.

If Hollywood sank into the ocean.

I really should have thought more about this one. It could be a fun list.

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There's no body text to this one, just a title:

Punch


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Things I Care about More than I Should

En dashes

The amount of peanut butter in my sandwich

Getting all the inner peel off when I peel an orange

That inner peel is bitter, okay?

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Polarizing

Twilight

Coconut

Obama

Cats

This is true. You love them or hate them; there is no middle ground.

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And finally, a long one that I didn't post just because it sounded too whiny.




I submit that life is nothing more than a series of endless problems to be dealt with. Consider the following.

On a basic level:

You’re born, and you need to be fed and clothed.

You’re ignorant, so you need to go to school.

You’re sometimes sick, and you need treatment.

You grow up and need to survive on your own, so you go to more school more (or not) and then you apply for a job to feed and clothe yourself.

You get married because you think you’re supposed to, or you want to (thus solving the problem of the “want” by finding a spouse). Or, you don’t get married, but if you want to it’s a problem that isn’t solved. And if you don’t want to, it’s not a problem and therefore there’s no solution needed.

You have children due to beliefs or lack of sufficient preventive measures, or because you genuinely want them (still a problem, in that you have a desire that can be realized through having children).

Your children need to be fed, clothed, and cared for.

(Skip ahead 30 years.) You have health problems, bills to pay, and the neighbor kids are on your lawn. If you had children, you constantly babysit grandchildren. If not, you are lonely. Your health deteriorates and you die. Your family is left with the problem of disposing of your corpse.

On a daily basis:

You have to go to work, so you need to wake up.

You’re dirty, so you shower.

You’re hungry, so you eat.

You need to get to work, so you drive the car. It needs gas, so you fill it up.

All day long, things need to be done at work.

You come home and need to eat. Your kids (where applicable) need to be fed and put to bed. They need attention, so you play with them.

Your house/condo/yard/pets/clothes need attention in some way, so you spend time fixing thing/mowing the lawn/feeding the dog/washing your clothes.

You’re in a strange mood, so you blog about it.

Everything we do in life is in response to some need either physical, mental, or emotional. Life consists entirely of solving problems.

(Okay, this was intended to be an amusing observation, rather than a pessimistic rant. But maybe I had a need to be a little whiny.)

And there you have it.

Polarizing

Twilight

Coconut

Obama

I submit that life is nothing more than a series of endless problems to be dealt with. Consider the following.

On a basic level:

You’re born, and you need to be fed and clothed.

You’re ignorant, so you need to go to school.

You’re sometimes sick, and you need treatment.

You grow up and need to survive on your own, so you go to more school more (or not) and then you apply for a job to feed and clothe yourself.

You get married because you think you’re supposed to, or you want to (thus solving the problem of the “want” by finding a spouse). Or, you don’t get married, but if you want to it’s a problem that isn’t solved. And if you don’t want to, it’s not a problem and therefore there’s no solution needed.

You have children due to beliefs or lack of sufficient preventive measures, or because you genuinely want them (still a problem, in that you have a desire that can be realized through having children).

Your children need to be fed, clothed, and cared for.

(Skip ahead 30 years.) You have health problems, bills to pay, and the neighbor kids are on your lawn. If you had children, you constantly babysit grandchildren. If not, you are lonely. Your health deteriorates and you die. Your family is left with the problem of disposing of your corpse.

On a daily basis:

You have to go to work, so you need to wake up.

You’re dirty, so you shower.

You’re hungry, so you eat.

You need to get to work, so you drive the car. It needs gas, so you fill it up.

All day long, things need to be done at work.

You come home and need to eat. Your kids (where applicable) need to be fed and put to bed. They need attention, so you play with them.

Your house/condo/yard/pets/clothes need attention in some way, so you spend time fixing thing/mowing the lawn/feeding the dog/washing your clothes.

You’re in a strange mood, so you blog about it.

Everything we do in life is in response to some need either physical, mental, or emotional. Life consists entirely of solving problems.

(Okay, this was intended to be an amusing observation, rather than a pessimistic rant. But maybe I had a need to be a little whiny.)

Surf Dream

Last night's dream was awesome. First, there was not only a river behind our house, but the ocean was just beyond that. Also, I think it was in South Carolina, for some reason.

Anyway, I had this great idea in the dream. I was going to run a line across the river, then attach a rope to it, and learn how to surf in the current. It would have been awesome, had I actually done it before waking up.

Then, I was sitting outside at another house with a friend, watching the ocean waves crash into the river (because there was basically 6 feet of sand separating them) when a man came and sat down by us, and with a cool Spanish accent suavely invited us to dine with his boss the following evening. He was obviously part of some drug cartel, and they liked me for some reason.

The end!

You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore

This morning someone send one of my coworkers flowers, which gave me two thoughts.

1. Is it socially acceptable for men to receive flowers? I'm not sure how I would feel if I received them, but at the very least I would find it a nice gesture.

2. A former coworker and I once made up a cheesy country song about a woman whose husband never brought her flowers. The she got sick and died, or something. I came across it when I was packing. If I find it again, I'll post the lyrics.

It's the Thought That Counts?

In the mail today, we got a package from the builders of our house, which was nice of them. I opened it, and it was a set of cards we could send out to people to let them know we had moved, with our new address printed on them. That's awfully thoughtful of them ...

... except ...

... it's got a big picture of the model home on the front, rather than our house. Well, okay, it's the same plan as ours, aside from the extra garage on the model. And the point is to say, "We've moved," rather than, "We've moved to this exact house."

... it kind of looks like they're really just trying to advertise their houses. The back of the card is about their company, and on the inside there's the actual floor plan of our house printed, as though anyone needs to know where the bathrooms are before visiting. But hey, I guess there's no real harm in hoping the cards generate interest in their business. We all need to make a living, right?

... they sent it to the wrong address, and it looks like the post office had a hard time figuring out where to send it. But hey, anyone could write an address incorrectly.

... The cards themselves have the wrong address printed on them, making them utterly useless to send to anyone!!! Okay, look. How do the people who built the freaking house get your address wrong? First of all, the house number was decided 6 months ago, and they put the wrong house number on the cards. And then they printed "Circle" instead of "Drive," which was a mistake they had made on all their other paperwork that meant we had to sign a bunch of extra papers at closing to correct it.

So 2/3 of the address is wrong. On the other hand, we could always send them to people we don't ever want to hear from, so I guess that's a plus.

Comedy Dream

It's awesome how funny I think I am in my dreams. Last night I dreamed that I was talking to guy #1, and guy #2 came up and was complaining about some doctor's office visit. He said something like, "They just decided to stick a needle wherever I suck," to which I naturally responded, "So, pretty much everywhere then." Then guy #1 and I laughed and laughed until I my alarm woke me up.

Turn Left at the Dead Raccoon


Well, we're all moved in, so you can all stop screening my calls. The move itself went mostly as planned, aside from people who were supposed to be at our house at a certain time (I'm looking at you, Lowe's and Comcast). Our fridge was at least 5 hours late, and our internet will be coming five days late. But we survived, and we'll be able to relax as soon as we get everything organized... and the yard planted... and a million other things done.

At first I thought it was kind of lame to be moving on the weekend of Independence Day. But then I realized that it really is significant that we are becoming more "independent" by taking on the responsibility of home ownership (inasmuch as anyone really owns a home when you're paying the bank for it).

And yes, there was a dead raccoon in the road.