It Smells Like Almonds

"Damn it."

A phrase that's often repeated through out my days as of late. Events have unfolded in my life that remind me it's not much fun sometimes. Times where I've realized I shot myself in the foot, but it's taken me over 6 years to find it out. How long does it take for gangrene to set in?

The weird part is that I don't know if this is normal. Are other people who are approaching their 30's dealing with the same thing? Maybe this is exclusive to me. It is my foot after all. A part of me hopes that other people are going through this too, but the majority of me doesn't.

I worry that I've come to the point where life stops being fun and becomes about getting by. The part that my parents warned me to avoid like the plague. Obviously I didn't pay attention to them and I'm wondering if I can limp past without hearing an "I told you so."

I'm pretty sure all these feelings will be null and void in about two weeks and not because it'll be over. Either that or I'm chopping off my foot and training for the Special Olympics.

Gain Some Real World Experience

Lately, I've been exploring the cringing thought of what an interview actually is. Before graduating a few years back, I heard my college professors liken it to going on a date. Well, if that's the case, I completely under dress for my dates, but I can see the similarities.

Arriving at an interview, you try to be early and show that you're conscious of time. Your heart is racing, perhaps because you ran a few blocks to get there on time, and your palms are a little sweaty. Like with all of my dates, I introduce myself with a sturdy handshake and look each person in the eye while thinking "I will own you."

For the first time in my life, I went on an interview where the company presented themselves to me. Every single job I've ever applied for, and interviewed with, was always the opposite. It was about what I could do for the company and how I could better their business. The concept of the company trying to sell itself to me first was a brand new experience. Needless to say, I immediately applied it to my dating life and expect every girl to sell themselves to me. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Almost everyone can agree that their dates have been about trying to "sell" themselves to the other person. Either they were trying to impress or just be someone they're not. It's something most people have come to recognize and I hope they shed that kind of thinking or they're in for a rude awakening. It's this realization that has helped me out in my daily life and has made me a happier person.

Ok. Life lesson over. Go have some fun, kids.

Take A Number, Please.

It's a bit weird when you run into a friend's ex-girlfriend. I like to think that I'd say hi when I see them, but the truth is that I'll only do it when I know for certain that they've seen me. Even then, I say hi very softly just in case I actually slipped passed their vision. Let's face it, though. I'm not very hard to miss.

So, we end up exchanging as few words as possible, at least on my side. I try to not let things go passed "hi", unless I really got along with the girl. But when it's your friend's brother's ex (did you follow that?), I won't even say anything.

And oh boy is it fun when they're out with another guy! In the back of my head, all I'm thinking is "haha! You're the idiot who came after my friend." 9 times out of 10, the girl is completely crazy and good on your friend for getting out of that circus they called a relationship. Then there's the 1 time that you know your friend is still at home and crying his eyes out after reruns of Scrubs. Great show, by the way.

Seeing as I've had the fewest exes of all my friends, I wonder what my friends will think of my future ex-girlfriend. Hopefully, they'll treat her with the respect that she probably deserves and the dignity every human should receive. This is all just in the moment, of course. We'll drag her name through the mud later, the bitch.

Oh yeah, I remember that!

A few months ago, I had gotten myself into Doctor Who. There was a lot of outside influence that made me want to watch the show. It also helped that my close friend was getting into it at the same time. We would both watch it on our own time and discuss episodes when we saw each other, usually at a bar. Let me be the first to tell you that if you meet a girl at the bar and she doesn't know what/who Doctor Who is, she's not worth your time. She might be hot, but if you're reading this blog, you probably didn't have a shot with her anyway. I'm kidding.

Fast forward a few months and you would find me barely through season 2. Something that I was really adamant about watching had fallen to the way side. Before you jump to any conclusions, this isn't an entry about how "I can't finish anything" and "woe is me, I should accomplish something with my life." It's simply about rediscovering something that was pretty sweet.

When I started watching those episodes again, I couldn't understand why I had stopped watching it. I mean, I know how and the why. The simple answer is "life happened." Some good, some bad, but watching those episodes allowed me to somewhat forget about all that and just enjoy the show. Too bad that I couldn't see past life for a moment.

Doctor Who isn't even the beginning. Rediscovering albums, a passion for an art, playing a sport, riding a bike, anything that you haven't done in ages is always a great feeling. One of those other things was watching cartoons and riding my bike. Granted, they can seem like childish activities, but they're totally not. OK, maybe they are, but why can't we just digress into being kids sometimes? It makes life a little more fun.


Note: Prior to writing the end to this entry, I rode my bike to the library to pick up the first volume of All Star Superman. 

Do These Pleats Go With My Vans?

A few posts ago, I talked about how grateful I was for women's fashion this season. I saluted legs and gave a hearty thank you to short dresses. There was also my mention of legs and my appreciation for them. Then my sister reads my entry and tells me that I'm being a bit of a creep. And know what? She was a little right about it.

I don't feel that I was much of a creep in the sense of the kiddie pool character of that blog. It was more in the "I'm a daily schlub" kind of way. Although appreciated, I had become more or less a version of the construction worker, cat calling women as they walk past.

That's when I stepped back and took a look at myself and some guys around me and noticed a few things. 

Now, I'm not going to use this time to take shots at myself and my fellow males. It's a given that a lot of men have a sense of fashion. We can pretty much tell that by the onslaught of male names on brands when we're walking through the mall or flipping through the pages of a magazine. And no, Sean John does not count. It just seems that there's a loss of translation between what's on the racks and magazine pages, and what we men are actually wearing. 

We're strictly talking about summer wear here. So, what's with the mock shorts that end half way down the shin? I like to think that someone accidentally shrunk the remaining stock of JNCOs and made millions selling them as shorts. This isn't a call to arms for short shorts either. No one should ever be subjected to the torture of seeing that much "guy thigh".

We're also very guilty of wearing graphic tees far too often. Yes, they're comfortable and some of them are funny, but that's the same excuse that women are using for Uggs. My wardrobe would be a lot better off with some nice button downs and clean tees. I can't do v-necks, though.

I hope to dress like the older gentleman who was sitting next to me while I started writing this. He had on a pair of khakis with a light white dress shirt. He was untucked, but not unkempt and his shoes were the perfect loafer that ask, "am I walking around the office or the backyard of a friend's place?" I don't want to dress like him today, but definitely in my years to come.

Plus, it's hip to dress a bit trashy, right? Are kids still using "hip" these days?

Easy There, Kid.

Today, I was eating my lunch when I watched a father and son head for the exit after they had finished their meal. The son following close behind his father as he opened the door and stepped out. The dad had the remainder of their meal in one hand and held the door open with the other. The kid,  clutching a child's cup with straw, walked out underneath his father's arm, took a couple of steps, and waited for his father. It was at that point that I was reminded that I couldn't wait to be a dad.

I always knew I wanted to have kids and have been looking forward to it since my early 20's. Don't think for a second that I was out there trying to become one, though. If there's one thing I know for certain it's that I am not ready to be one just yet. I'm only 27 and as most of the people I work with keep reminding me, "oh you're only a kid." For that, I am completely grateful.

There is no way that I'm financially stable at this point in my life. I'm not sure how I'd fair with having to support a child. The choices I've made for myself have been less than spectacular for it. Then I remember how an acquaintance had shared the story of when his son was born. 

He looked down at him, laying in the hospital nursery, and questioned how he would ever support this child. Within the blink of an eye, he told me about how at that moment he realized he would do absolutely everything he could for his son. He even called himself a dummy and realized that he would no longer be living for himself.

I look back at that story and ask myself if I would be like that? I try to come up with excuses that I'm not ready and that I already live a selfless life. I'm sure if you ask my friends, some of them can tell you stories of how I thought of others before myself. But, that's not the answer I come to.

No matter how many times I ask myself and scenarios I run in my head, I always come to one conclusion. It will all change when my kid arrives. No matter what, everything I know and how I think will be turned upside down once I know there is a part of me that is living in this world and I have to do absolutely everything I can to love and care for them. That's what I look forward to most. It will go far deeper than just holding a door open. It won't stop until my last dying breathe.

But first, I need to find the mom.

Oh Shut It, Peter Pan

Lately, I've been thinking about the things that would entertain me as a kid and teenager. Stuff like video games, movies, bike riding, going to the park, skipping rocks, and watching TV. Lord knows how many hours I spent as a youth doing these things. What really strikes me is that as kids, my friends and I would fit these things into a really packed schedule we kept. Remember those days? Ones that, looking back now, make you wonder how you got anything done in the first place? Take my high school years as an example.

I remember waking up before the sun rose, milking old Betsy, getting showered and dressed, all before the Sun was actually peering over my roof. Lunch time was at 10am where now-a-days, I'm barely up at that time (Don't judge me. I work late nights). Who the heck eats lunch at 10am? My school allowed us to leave campus for lunch and it was always a pain because hardly any fast food joints were open at that hour. And if they said it did, what they really meant was 10:15am.

After coming back from lunch, we would have classes for another 3 hours and then were out of there at 2:07pm. Seriously, my school let out at that exact time. I never understood why it wasn't a few minutes longer or shorter.

Now that we have a time perspective, where the heck does our adult life go? And on top of that, what happened to the stuff that would entertain us back then and why isn't it doing the job now? Maybe some of those things are still there, but they've taken on new meaning, like TV. Back in High School, we probably watched whatever we wanted once we got home. Most of the time, it was just some noise to keep us company because the house was empty. Now, I watch it to "unwind" after work. Really though? When did "unwind" become an action we do and more importantly, who planted that word in my vocabulary?

Video Games? Nope. Got no time. Sorry SNES, I just don't play with you because I bought a 360 and I don't even play that.

Movies? Sorry movies. You're reserved for my days off and only if there's something I really want to see. Also, you're a good date idea, but this time it's just me and one other person. Not a herd of hormone raged, teenage boys.

Bike riding? You've become exercise because our lives have become so busy, that we need an excuse to be active.

And going to the park and skipping rocks? Unless you come with some grilling and a case of beer, we don't talk.

Then it hits me. Why the hell am I blogging about this? I could have been doing any number of those things! Damn you, adult life!