What About Mom?

I'm terrible, I mean God awful, at buying gifts. The only person who I seem to get things right for is my sister. If that's not the case, she's one hell of an actress and deserves a lifetime achievement award for the performances she's put on every Christmas morning. But even when it comes to buying things for myself, I'm the absolute worst. I'm sure some of you out there could give me a run for my money (It's mine! You can't have it.) and you're probably right. At least I can get my sister the right things.

Mom has always been the toughest person to buy things for. It's not because she's a cold hearted woman with the emotions of a boulder. She's the exact opposite of that, but this doesn't help me buy gifts for her. The thing that makes my mom the toughest person to buy a gift for is that she was born on Christmas. Christmas! How am I supposed to find the right gift that says "Happy Birthday, Mom! You weren't upstaged by Jesus in the least bit"? So far, I've resorted to jewelry and spa days. 

It just sometimes feels like I have to make up for the years that I couldn't afford gifts while I was hanging out in the playground. Honestly, the thought that my Mom shared a birthday with Jesus on Christmas never really hit me until I was making a decent living. I guess I just took it for granted that my mom had dealt with it and moved on. But now was my moment to make her birthday and Christmas two separate events. Not to mention, I was completely wrong about her "dealing with it." No one would.

My sister and I, mainly my sister, hammered that fact home two years ago. We had decided to throw Mom the biggest party she'd had in years. The significant part of this event? It was going to be at the end of January as to keep it far away from Christmas and the holiday season. The party went off better than expected and planned! She was completely surprised and had a blast. The night was filled with dancing, drinking, and lots of laughs. Seriously, what more could you ask for in a party?

So, that had settled it. As of that night, I was able to separate my mom's birthday from the holiday season. Too bad it didn't help me with picking out gifts, though.

"What your mom buy you a 'puter for Christmas?"

Imagine what this world must look like to a guy who stepped out of a cryogenic sleep chamber, after being frozen for years. If you're like me, you immediately think of the movie Forever Young starring the sometimes controversial Mel Gibson. He plays a World War II era dream boat pilot who signs up to be part of an experiment for his pal. They forget about him and he wakes up in the 90's, not knowing what happened. Long story short, he meets a budding actor by the name of Elijah Wood and learns about the things he's missed.

Now, if I ever find myself in that type of situation, I wouldn't wait to hear about new technology. I'd want to find out if holograms existed and if people are actually having sex with robots. Maybe nano technology took leaps and bounds and disease is cured with a robotic army attacking viruses, but I have a feeling the common cold will still plague us. I would do all this after mourning the loss of my family and everyone I've ever met, of course.

Well, while I was sitting down at the coffee shop I over heard some older gentlemen say, "something box."

"Xbox?"

"Yeah. That's it."

I thought to myself if that's how I would actually turn out in my old age. Everything I mentioned up top was the follow up to this thought. It's, honestly, more of a declaration that I wouldn't turn out to be like these gentlemen. But, the above situation would also happen while I was still 28 and frozen then thawed out fifty years from now. So, would we become like our grandparents, handing over our new cell phones to our grandkids because we can't figure out how to work the damn thing?

But, the question that I keep asking is how hard must it be to not take notice of new technology around you? Did we take a huge leap that it created this rift between people who kept up and those who didn't? Looking back fifty years from today, the world was completely different. It's hardly a shadow of its former self. Rather than growing the guts to walk up to a girl, guys are fawning over women from behind a computer screen. They don't pick up the phone and call, they send texts, which led to "sexts", which prove that technology is now in the bedroom, and how can you ignore that? Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against flirting via texts, but there's a problem if your only interactions have been based in text.

What weirds me out the most is that kids are insanely competent with new devices. I can't watch a toddler play with an iPhone before they've learned how to properly wipe their own butt. A friend of mine told me about how is kid would take his phone and play around with it. They knew how to take pictures, access them when done, how to play games, and how to avoid deleting applications. Granted, he has two of the smartest kids I've ever seen in my entire life. In fact, one of them speaks better english than I do after a few beers, and he's only 2. (Please don't read that as the two year old drinking beer.) But, something about watching them makes even me feel a little obsolete.

Then I think back to grandparents. I want to be the grandfather who takes things away from my grandchildren in order to get it right, and to be what internet speak defines as L33T (elite). I always want to be right there, on the edge of what's new. From what I've noticed in my day to day life, it isn't that hard of a challenge.

I love you, Pumpkin

Let me be clear. I love pumpkin spice bread. Also in the mix are pumpkin pies. Honestly, I'm a huge fan of pie in general, and bread. As the famous line from Scott Pilgrim suggests, I put all the blame on my heavyset frame on bread and pie and not wanting to stop eating either. But I digress.

Autumn, or Fall (as I prefer to call it), has always been my favorite season. The abundance of yellow and red, and every color in between, is probably my favorite part. Oh, and pumpkin flavored beer, bread, and pies. Unfortunately, as most of you are aware, if you have a New Yorker on your Facebook wall, this past weekend seemed to skip all that and go straight to Winter. What did I do wrong to have my favorite season taken away like this?* 

I was one of many who didn't believe there would be snow as the forecast had suggested. Granted, it didn't stick around overnight, but I was genuinely upset. It didn't help that I received a picture text from a friend who had escaped the weather earlier in the day. The picture was of a view of sunny Santa Monica. It might as well have had a "wish you were here", in its annoyingly vibrant color scheme, at the top right corner. If I didn't love my phone so much, I would have hurled it across my work room, smashing a view flatscreen TVs, which would have led to losing my job.

Most of my day was actually spent thinking about the West Coast. It had been a while since I was there, almost a year, and I could feel it pulling me back in. My family is actually scared that I'll make the move out there. But, the west has planted itself in me. The fact that they don't deal with snow is actually what has me licking my lips about moving out there. "If that's the case, why not move down south?" No thank you. I'll take the friendly atmosphere over the stupid accent. I'm pretty sure I just lost all of my readers south of the Mason Dixon.

So, the question about the whole situation is why do people feel this way? Is it because the cold weather becomes unbearable to our old bones? Do others move because they feel drawn to an area? Most of my  life has been lived in NY. I spent a few months living in Denver and absolutely loved it. That's even with having moved there during the heart of winter, screaming like a girl when my car would spin across three lanes because of the snow. But I want sunny California days.

If things change soon, I'll really think about making the move, but the changing of the leaves are really keeping me here. I don't know how I would fare without the seasons. Although, I'm pretty sure if there's Pumpkin pie in California, I'll be just fine.

*Inserted for dramatic effect.

Carpet Dimes

My birthday has always been a point in my life which I look at differently than any other time. Of course it's because I'm celebrating my birth and everyone feels like the world should revolve around them during their birthday. It goes a little deeper for me because of where my birthday lies. It's right at the center of the world physically transforming around us. So, it's easy for me to question what is occurring in my life. I turn one year older and nature turns over its dead leaves. It just seems like change is inevitable.

So what does that mean? Am I going through a late quarter-life crisis? Maybe it's of the mid-life variety, but really early. That's not it at all (I'm far too good looking for that). I think it's just that I'm fully coming into the realization of who I am. For far too long, I wondered how I would fit into this world and it has finally dawned on me.

I'm going to tease you, though. You won't get the answer out of me in this post. Why? Because maybe some readers are going through their own "discovery" and an answer would influence them. Perhaps it would throw them off their course. It took me this long to come to my realization because I went off of others' answers and thought that maybe it was my answer too.

Oh well. Carpe diem, right? Exactly.

I'm diving head first into this. There has been a fire lit under my ass and I haven't been able to stop moving towards my answer. I wonder if this is what a coke head feels after that first bump. 

Let's Talk Fat

There are just some things certain people shouldn't do. Things that would over amplify their already heightened short comings. Activities that would cause others to laugh at them. Some people should heed the warning of Adam Sandler's title track off his first album; "they're all gonna laugh at you."

Please don't take this post to mean that I don't think we can't challenge some perceptions. Some are very wrong and should be broken, but life is often times a lot easier when you work within its boundaries. I'm going to try to not step on any toes here. I'll actually be talking about something that I live through on a daily basis.

I, myself, am a big guy. So, knowing that I'm big, I stay away from tight jeans and I try my absolute best not to fall down. Falling down is funny no matter who the person is, but fat people tend to make loud noises and vibrate floors when they hit the ground. It can also end up in ripped jeans. So, let's try to kill two birds with one stone

There's also the issue of scent. As a boy, I grew up with a fat kid named Carlos. He was the grossly overweight kid who reeked of pee. He was the very reason why I wanted to fight against the stereotype of the fat smelly kid. I knew that if I were to remain husky, I would have to make an extra effort in my hygiene. I won't lie, I went over board with it while I was younger; showering twice a day and investing in cologne. To this day, I love cologne. I'm still fat, but I don't stink. 

Here's something. Don't let your fat daughter try out for color guard in the Marching band. Everyone knows they are failed cheerleaders and being the fat failed cheerleader will be too much. If your child makes this, you've failed at parenting.

There are undoubtedly many people who are reading this and think that I'm a jerk for it. They're probably the same people who think that we can change the world and have fat people rights. Well, you're completely allowed to think that and I applaud your bravery for thinking this way. But take this from a fat guy; even we think they look stupid, and cringe when they can't quite get their foot above the waist during those high kicks.

Years after graduating High School, I saw some news footage of a family in dismay. Apparently Carlos accidentally burnt his house down. Score another one for me.

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.

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 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!