Thursday, July 30, 2009

A Truly Shitty Week

So, our story starts this past weekend with my trip to Dewey Beach. Danielle and I had been there for one entire day already, and on a nice Sunday afternoon, we made our way back out to the beach. We found a good spot somewhat close to the water and after being out for a while, Danielle headed inside to use the bathroom, leaving me alone.

Within a few minutes, two women carrying a baby and a car seat carriage thing (I don't know what they're called, but it's like a baby seat with a canopy over get the picture) make their way to about 5 feet in front of me and decide to plop themselves down, blocking my view of the ocean. I immediately pick up on the fact that they are not American from their accents, but it becomes even more apparent as they put the baby one was holding, down on the beach...and he is not wearing any clothes.

Naked baby is initially funny, as I assume they just changed him and are about to put his new diaper and swimsuit on, but they don't seem to be inclined in such a way as he starts waddling towards the water (yes, he's old enough to walk). He makes it about 30 feet, with one of the women following after him before he gets close to a second family, that have one kid of about the same age (though he has a swimsuit on) and another that's maybe 13 years old as well. The 13-year old immediately sees Naked Baby and turns to his mom, like "what is up with this Naked Baby?!!" They're keeping it lowkey and say nothing to the woman.

At this point, Danielle comes back and sits next to me. I inform her that there is a naked baby in the group in front of us, which she at first shrugs off. Baby. Naked. Ok, whatever. But after about 5-10 minutes, she turns back to me and is like, "uh, I don't know why, but this is terribly uncomfortable."

You're probably sitting there reading this, thinking to yourself, much like Danielle did, that a naked baby on the beach is nothing crazy. Yeah, naked baby on the beach. It's just a baby. But trust me...a naked baby (that can walk!) on the beach is awkward and uncomfortable for everyone around. So awkward that a woman took her young daughter and left the area. And another couple to our left repeatedly looked over and shook their heads. And yet, no one said anything.

Even as Naked Baby threw sand in the air. And then as Naked Baby sat his naked self next to the family with the other young boy and started to play with their toys. And then it happened. The mother from the other group stood up, walked over to the two women and said it..."I think your baby just pooed."

Yes, it went from bad to worse as Naked Baby shat in the area where the kids were playing, and as his mother?? grabbed him by his wrists and lifted him away, only to dunk him into the ocean to clean him off, I realized the key reason why babies should not be allowed to wander about naked.

But is it just babies???

So, fast forward to last night, and another high brow establishment, Nissan Pavilion. Hinder has just finished their set, and the sun is still visible as a crowd of people are making their way to and from the consession stands in anticipation of the featured act, Nickelback. Danielle and I have done the same, having just gotten two more beers, and are making our way back to our seats when we see the crowd dispersing slightly in front of us.

The scene is pretty surreal as four security guards are carrying a girl face down out up the walkway. I've seen this before...too much to drink...too hot in the mosh pit's a shame she's gonna miss Nickelback. But then they get closer and I see that not only is she experiencing the shame of being carried out, but she's wearing a dress and it has unfortunately made its way up her back, exposing her and her thong to everyone in the area. Again, this is nothing new for a concert. We saw several boobs as the night went on, what's a bare ass here or there too?

And then, it got weird.

It all happened very fast and I was already 24 oz. of beer and minimal food into the evening, but the looks on the faces around us helped tell the tale. As we watched her bare ass go by, I realized, this girl was not passed out at all. In fact, she was struggling and writhing to free herself from the security guards' grips, jolting her ass and legs up and down, drawing even more attention to herself...and to the fact that she had most undeniably shat down her leg.

Was it just mud from falling??

That was my initial thought. But there was just something that didn't seem to fit that story. And as the shocked faces of everyone around us, and the hushed words from everyone, including the security that takes your tickets for the section, began to grow, I knew that we had seen our second shitter in less than a week.

Monday, May 25, 2009

39 Reasons I Needed a Shower

So, it is 10:44 PM on Monday night, and I just took a shower on this glorious Memorial Day evening. The last shower that I took was on Saturday at approximately 3:30 PM. Since that time, I did the following tasks:

1. Played video games
2. Masturbated
3. Participated in a beer pong tournament
4. Took the metro
5. Walked from the Woodley Park metro stop to Adam's Mill
6. Participated in multiple games of flip cup
7. Danced...poorly
8. Hailed a cab
9. Watched my cabbie get pulled over by a cop at the Grosvenor Metro, after he dropped us off, while I drove past him, thoroughly intoxicated
10. Passed out
11. Drove to my parents' house to drop off my dog
12. Filled my car with gas
13. Ate a chili cheese Big Bite at 8:30 AM (yes, seriously)
14. Drove to Ohiopyle, PA with three women (thankfully I did not fill my car with gas a second time, if you know what I mean)
15. Put on a random life jacket and helmet
16. White water rafted for 2 hours
17. Ate a sandwich on a rock by a river
18. White water rafted for another 2 hours
19. Set up a tent
20. Played ladder golf (you know, that game with the three bars that you throw nunchucks at)
21. Peed in the woods
22. Grilled burgers, hot dogs and chicken
23. Shat in a port-a-john
24. Sat by a camp fire
25. Slept in a sleeping bag in a tent
26. Drove to West Newton, PA to visit with Danielle's family
27. Held Danielle's 3-month old niece
28. Ate another sandwich
29. Drove to Breezewood, PA where I stopped at KFC and got 3 chicken strips
30. Slept while Danielle drove to Hagerstown, MD
31. Went shopping at the outlet mall and bought some shirts at Banana Republic and Guess
32. Filled my car with gas again, and got a car wash with it
33. Drove to the Safeway in Germantown, MD to pick up some groceries
34. Drove to my parents' house to get Chloe
36. Finally arrived back at home in Rockville, MD
37. Unpacked my car
38. Washed the clothes I had worn to go white water rafting and camping
39. Made and ate pasta salad, and pineapple dipped in chocolate caramel fondue we had leftover from Friday

So, I would have to say it was a very successful Memorial Day weekend. However, if I contract some bizarre disease over the next few days, please print out and provide this information to my doctor in case I am unable to speak and/or communicate.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Top 10: You Might Be a Douchebag

So, today, Danielle and I went to Tysons Corner mall so she could do some shopping. As we wandered around the mall, I couldn't help noticing how much all of the men's clothing stores seem to be selling clothing that would make you look like a douche. Is this the new look going into the 2010s? In any case, it got the two of us to talking about what really classifies someone as a douche. And so after some thought, along the lines of 'You Might Be a Redneck', I present to you the:

Top 10 Ways To Tell You Might Be A Douchebag
10a. You intentionally wear pink: There are about 1000 different colors available out there, I think you can do without this one.
10b. And you pop your collar: Are you protecting your neck from harmful UV rays?
9. You wear a trucker cap sideways: So you'll protect your neck from the sun, but only one side of your face. Huh?
8. You update your facebook status to tell everyone about all the "awesome" things you're up to throughout your day: We get it, you're windsurfing with Kate Beckingsale while I'm sitting at my desk at work. You are awesome, I am pathetic.
7. You make less than $30,000 a year, but still drive a BMW: It's just not that impressive when you drive your 7-series back to your home at your parent's house.
6. You write a blog that virtually no one reads: I thought I'd beat all you wiseasses to this one.
5. You root for the Lakers, Celtics, Yankees, Red Sox, Cowboys or Patriots even though you have absolutely no affiliation to any of the home states: Why are you a fan again?
4. You cheer outloud like you did something amazing after you finish a jagerbomb: Uh, what's the big deal? Are we supposed to be impressed? It tastes like...candy.
3. You only drink coffee if it's from Starbucks: Everything about Starbucks screams douche, but if this is the only place you'll have coffee, you probably have your pink shirt collar up and your crooked hat on too...don't you?
2. You wear underarmour shirts even when you're not doing something athletic: Is it really necessary to have added wicking action when you're going to Starbucks?
1. The amount of hair gel you put in your hair exceeds the amount of semen you will put in a woman later that night: I actually read this one on another site, so props to that guy. Nothing screams douchebag like all that hairgel. "Fucking skanks!"

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Car Shopping

So, a couple weeks ago I got a postcard type advertisement in the mail from Infiniti. It said they were offering deals for up to $8000 off, $1000 above Blue Book value for your trade-in and a $500 Coach gift card (no, I'm serious). Then two weeks ago, I got my registration renewal from the MVA and they want $120.

Let's see, new car with lots of discounts or same old crappy car, with squeaky brakes, broken interior lights, discoloring rear fender thanks to random Spanish repair guy, and a new bill to go along with it. Seemed like a no-brainer. It's time to get a new car.

I searched the internet to find out more about some cars I was interested in. Having driven and loved my G35 Sedan, I was intent on getting something comparable to it, so that brought me to narrow my search to the new G37 Sedan (and all those savings!!!), the Nissan Maxima, the Lexus IS250, and the BMW 3-series. And then I remembered that I hate BMW and all they stand for. Try growing up in Potomac with the popped collar yuppies and their "beamers" and you'll relate to my hatred. But I digress.

My mom already owns an IS350 that my brother bought and pawned off on her, so I eliminated that one quickly, as who really wants to drive the same car as their mother, so the decision seems to be making itself for me. And then there were two.

So, Easter Sunday rolls around, and I haven't really gotten a good look at Maximas. I drive up to the Nissan dealer in Rockville and as I'm looking into the Maximas that are on the lot I realize, this place is actually open!!?? So, hell, let's test drive and get some pricing on this puppy. After driving the Maxima with a sports package and feeling how stiff it is, I'm reminiscent of my 350Z that I turned in after less than 2 years on my lease as it made my back hurt (yeah, I'm old now). I decide that maybe the premium package would be better and the guy lets me give it a drive as well. Definitely smoother, plus it's got iPod interface and heating and cooling seats. Nice.

I've decided what I like, now let's see what it costs. Why is it that it takes like an hour to "determine" what the best price the dealer can give you is. He's gotta consult with his manager, and the financing guy, and some random woman, and a midget with one eye, I mean, what the F!?? At what other retailer would people stand for this kind of service? It's like this is completely expected and therefore acceptable. If it took the butcher at the grocery store an hour to find me a steak, I'd eat chicken. But, there I sit until I get my price. And then I did what every prudent car buyer should do...I left.

Two days and four calls from the Nissan dealer later, and I'm on my way to the Infiniti dealer to see what he can offer. Long story short, the dealer is a big dick, leaves me sitting without any semblance of him wanting to move things forward for nearly an hour, he helps two other people, then offers me a monthly payment that's almost $200 more per month than the Nissan for a sale price that's only $2000 more expensive. Then when I mention that, he miraculously drops the price by $ immediately.

OK, now onto another ridiculously accepted standard in car purchasing. Where else can the price fluctuate by 20-40% merely by what you say? If I'm at a restaurant and the lobster tail is $50 and then I say that I can get it at another restaurant for cheaper, I'll leave if they change the price. That usually means one of two things...I'm gonna get "the old one" or I'm gonna be eating pubes. Then again, I never order lobster anyway. Who am I, Ted Turner?? So, I didn't want the car with pubes on it from this cock head, so I bounced.

And you're probably wondering about the $8000 off and the other deals that started all this craziness. Yeah, they don't really exist. You mean you didn't see that it said "up to" in front of the $8000? I can show you a car that can have $8000 off...but that's not the type you were interested in. Oh, my bad...shady...very shady.

Day 3 is Wednesday, and I'm off to the Nissan dealer in Germantown. I was OK with the deal the Rockville guy offered me on Sunday, since it was definitely a better deal than the Infiniti, but let's compare apples to apples. I'm armed with a favorable price, the fact that I've been to Infiniti, and the fact that my mind is numb from having sat at car dealerships for more than 4 hours total thusfar. And then the battle begins.

I wanted a black car. They only have a navy blue car with the premium package on the lot. I didn't want to pay for the navigation system. The navy blue car has navigation. Will I settle? Yes, but it'll cost them. And that's the angle I'm using.

An hour of bullshit and waiting later, and they're gassing up my new navy blue Maxima with the premium package and navigation system. It's got a price tag $2000 more than the one I test drove at the Rockville dealership, and the monthly payment is $40 a month less. It's got 10 miles on the odometer and my coveted iPod interface...which is exquisite.

And the next day, I'm driving it with my parents in the car...and the sunroof cover breaks.

Which leads me to my final gripe with car dealerships. New doesn't always mean good. And when a new car isn't good, they don't give you a replacement. Instead, they give you a Nissan Xterra. No, I didn't get another new car, it's the rental car they gave me while they fix the problem in my new car, which they took yesterday and will hopefully have for me tomorrow.

Perhaps I should stop reading advertising post cards.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

My Life, the Movie

As I've often joked with many of my friends, sometimes it feels like my life is like a movie. Bizarre things seem to occur around me, crazy people seem to want to always talk to me, and for the most part, things that you think would only happen in a movie, seem to happen to me. For those of you that have missed some of the finer points, here's a couple:

  • While waiting with Jaclyn at the Metro Center terminal after seeing Stomp at Warner Theater a couple years back, a random older black man walks by, having passed everyone else standing there. He randomly stops, looks at both of us, and in the wise, old man style, he says, "You hold her because you love her." Several months later, our relationship is cut short because she a Caribbean Island.
  • I'm walking back to my car after grabbing some Chipotle, and a random Spanish guy is standing there with his son. He informs me that he does car repair work, pops his car's trunk to show me the tools, and says he can fix the dents in my car right there. I'm like, why not? Two hours later, he's done and it looks halfway decent. Two years later, and now I'm trading in my car because the whole area he repainted is turning a bronzish color.
  • A couple years back, I'm on a trip to Disney World with my ex-girlfriend Amy for a Pool & Spa Convention. I've rented the cheapest car available and reserved a standard room at the Disney Swan Resort. When I go to grab the car, the guy at the desk looks at us and is like, "You know, I've got a convertible out there that no one else has rented. You guys can take it, no extra charge." This in itself is probably not all that special, as I'm sure this happens to people often. But then we make it to the Resort and the lady at the desk looks at us and is like, "You know, I've got a suite that's overlooking the lake that no one has reserved until Monday. You guys can take it, no extra charge."
Seriously, am I being taped? These are some completely random and somewhat bizarre circumstances that have crossed my path over the years.

So, yesterday, it's more of the same.

I start the day off with a plan to go to the TLC Laser Eye Center to get a preliminary look into getting lasik surgery. My appointment is set for 10 AM, and after sitting in the waiting room for a couple minutes, I'm taken to the back for all the tests. They take pictures of my eyes in this one machine. Then they scan my eyes in a machine that looks like those retro spirals or hypnotic spinnie things. And last, the tech gives me a full eye exam where I read off the letters as they get smaller. He finishes the test, and says he's gonna give the results to the doctor and he'll be in to discuss my options. Five minutes later, an older gentleman comes in and introduces himself as the doctor. He then sits down in the chair that's in the room I'm in, and in a sarcastic manner like we're old buddies, he asks me, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Confused as to what he means, I'm hold up my glasses and tell him, "I'm not wanting to deal with wearing these anymore." He then informs me that my vision is too good (yet not good enough to not wear glasses), and that they, and probably anybody, wouldn't want to do the surgery. In his words, "It's just not worth your money to take the risk."

So, yes, I got denied Lasik eye surgery. Now you know someone.

Fast forward to last night. I'm sitting at the Wizards game with my buddy Eric; my brothers are also at the game though they have seats in a different section (yeah, we kept trading in our package tickets and eventually all backed into the last game of the season). It's probably around the middle of the 3rd quarter and the standard "Kiss Cam" comes on where they put the camera on different couples in the audience and they kiss for the whole audience to cheer on. It always ends with the camera focusing on two of the opposing players, and hilarity ensues. On this particular night, however, it starts with my ex-girlfriend Lisa, and her new boyfriend.

It's on them for a while as they don't realize they're on the screen, so I turn to Eric and say, "isn't that Lisa?" As he confirms it is, we both watch on as they open mouth kiss. Yep.

While this would have been even more like a scene from a chick flick about 8 months ago when we were first broken up, it is just another bizarre and wonderful story that is my life...and...ACTION.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Top 10 Worst Times to Have to Poop

So, last week I had the unfortunate pleasure of going up to Danielle's family's place in Western PA for the funeral of her grandfather, who passed two Saturdays ago. With any trip and especially those when you're visiting people you don't know all that well, a major concern always pops up: What if I have to poop at an inopportune moment?

Thankfully, my poop timer was in rare form this past week, allowing me to drop off the kids before my drive up there, make my second deposit the next day when I awoke and prior to the viewing, and dump the final load while her family handled the last of the final preparations after the funeral.

However, I have been unfortunate in many past situations, and upon further reflection on the subject after my most recent successful trip, I have now developed what I believe to be:

The Top 10 Worst Times to Have to Poop
10. When first arriving at a new location where you don't know the owner's of the house that well: It's always awkward meeting new people, but it's even worse when one of the first things you do is excuse yourself to go destroy their bathroom. I had the unfortunate pleasure of pulling this one off last Halloween when after a long drive through the mountains we arrived at Danielle's friend's cabin, and I needed to cut some fire wood.
9. While on an airplane: I have thankfully never had to pull this one off, but I have even more unfortunately been the victim of someone else unleashing this terror. It's a cramped space to begin with, you know everyone knows when you walked by, and when the smell permeates, everyone is looking for the oxygen masks to drop.
8. At the movies: It's bad enough that you just paid $14 to watch a movie, but if you have to leave in the middle of it to take a dump, it's a disaster. Good luck finding your seat again without being that douche who calls out his friend's name. And then filling in the gaps you missed is likely not going to be a quiet exchange.
7. At a job interview: Nothing says "hire me" like disappearing for a bathroom break in the midst of several critical first meetings and discussions. Or worse, you could try to fight through it, risk the possible farting, or suffer through the stomach pain.
6. On a first date: Much like the interview, nothing makes a first impression like an extended departure from the dinner table. Women have the prefabricated "freshening up" excuse, while every woman knows exactly what you were up to if you're gone for more than 5 minutes...and that usually doesn't segue well into a second date.
5. At the beach: Sure you can piss in the ocean, but taking a dump is a whole different puzzle. Having no desire to even attempt this, you're forced to make the hot dash up the sand, possibly packing up your towels and stuff so they don't get stolen, only to walk a couple blocks (it's rare I stay on the beach) back to wherever I can safely release. And then if your slightly damp from the ocean, cleanup is a disaster. Plus the sand...don't get me started.
4. Stuck in traffic: You're in your car. There's no where to go. And there's literally no where to go. At least you're not moving around and can try to keep focus on not shitting yourself as you slowly creep along.
3. On the metro: This one falls along the same lines as the traffic, but it adds an extra degree of difficulty. For one, you're with a bunch of people. And second, you're gonna have to walk around long before you'll be anywhere near a usable bathroom. I was in this unfortunate situation one time, developed the urge around Metro Center, suffered through til the Bethesda metro stop, where my car was parked, and by the time that I made my way through the crowd, up the long ass escalator and to the parking garage where my car was parked, I had already made the mental decision that if necessary, I would shit my pants, remove my underwear, and throw it on the ground in the parking garage, driving home commando style. Thankfully, I fought through and made it home, with only intense pain and sweating (yes, sweating) as my casualty, underwear still in check.
2. While playing a sport - Imagine getting all your football gear on, hearing the cheer of the crowd as you storm onto the field, and then dealing with the pain in your bowels as you are forced to withstand an entire half before any chance of shitting will arise. Oh yeah, and you need to run as fast as you can, and there's a great chance someone is going to collide with you. Not good times.
1. At an outdoor festival - If you have any doubts that this is the number one worst place to poop, I dare you to go to Shamrock Fest next year, wait in the ridiculous lines for the port a johns, listening to the drunks heckle anyone who takes more than 2 minutes to get out, and then feast your eyes on what is in the bowl once you enter the coffin of feces. Thankfully, I have never had to experience this. I hope I never do.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Top 10 Reasons I Love March Madness

In the spirit of the NCAA Tournament, which sadly does not feature my alma mater and last year's Cinderella, Davidson, I thought I would put forth this newest Top 10 List.

Top 10 Reasons I Love March Madness
10. Thanks to "the office bracket," the majority of women are actually interested in sports for a short period of time.
9. If you decide to take a Thursday or Friday off to watch sports at any other time, people would look at you like you're some kind of freak.
8. I actually look at the Over/Under bets and think to myself...yeah, let's do this.
7. I have never watched Cornell play a game of basketball in my life, but I am spouting off that they don't have much depth and will therefore run out of steam late in the game.
6. There's nothing more pleasing than drinking a couple beers, watching 8 games of basketball, and then walking outside to see the sun still up.
5. I find it ironic that bars probably have their best daily sales while people that legally can't come into their bars entertain their patrons.
4. At no other time will you see a guy hit a three pointer as time expires and hear a whole bar scream, even though the final score is 71-55.
3. I enjoy yelling at people I don't know through the TV and I've stopped watching the Real World.
2. I'm $100 richer today than I was yesterday and that's all thanks to the University of Missouri. Yes, the University of Missouri. I'm not even sure what city that's in. And I couldn't name one player on their team. Well, there's dread locks guy.
1. Because moments like March 28, 2008 can happen. Davidson 73, Wisconsin 56. I can't tell you a day I was more excited and proud of where I went to school.

So, I've got $50 on UConn (-10) over Texas A & M. At least I've seen UConn play before. Let's go Huskies!

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

J-Man: Snow Dork

Today I headed back to work after a nice day off from work yesterday, as we finally got our first sizable snow of the year...albeit it took until March to get it.

So on Sunday afternoon, the forecasters were giddy like they always get when a snow storm is coming, constantly cutting in to the normal programming to give you updates on the progress of the storm and what to expect. Topper Shutt even giggled like a small child on Monday morning when he could blow the snow off his weather perch with an air blower.

Well, seeing as this was the first snow storm of the year, and I'm sort of a big fan of snow (I work on pools...I have nothing better to do than enjoy the snow this time of year), I decided that I too would get giddy with the upcoming holiday.

The plan would be set in action. Danielle and I decided if we were going to get snowed in, we had to have cool stuff to do. First, we needed to take a trip to College Park to grab snow gear from her place and then it was off to the Target. The last time it snowed, we met up with my brothers and their dogs in the park around the corner only to end up sledding down a hill on a storage bin top. Feeling it was time to upgrade, my brother had bought a saucer sled, so we thought we should get some ourselves.

The last time I remember riding on a saucer type of sled was back when I was in high school and we had that big ice storm after a snow storm, so you could just go and go and go on the ice. We took our sleds across the street to Avenel Golf Course (that's where I used to live) and just picked a direction and went. Tons of fun, until I hit a sand trap...which was a fun drop, until I hit the other end of the trap. That's when I slammed into the lip, flew in the air and landed with a thud. It was a while back, but I do remember my arm being sore for a couple days and perhaps being unconscious for a couple seconds. Ahhhh, good times.

Back to the present. We make it to Target, are unable to find any sleds (since it's March!!) and instead end up grabbing a blue and a pink inner tube. (The blue matches Danielle's eyes, so I went with pink...huh?). And then it happens. In typical Target fashion, we are pulled in by the sheer number of things around and find ourselves wanting to buy stuff other than what we came for. I don't know what it is, I can't walk into Target and not buy something. A couple weeks ago, I went in to look for a Wii recharging station, but didn't like the one they had, so I bought a book. WHAT??!! Not a book about Wii's. Just a book. The book section is right across from the Wii stuff and I was in, why not? Now, it's sitting on my night stand waiting for me to finish Angels & Demons, The Choice, and Twilight (yeah, I caved) first.

So, on Sunday, we walk by the toy department and see that games are on sale. Oooo. Games are good for a snowy day. Never mind that I have 19 other games (I just counted) including a version of Cranium and a Monopoly that I still haven't opened. So in goes Battleship into the cart. I mean, when was the last time you played Battleship?? They even changed the share a central board. And they changed the shapes of the ships...not just all long lines. And there's a man you "save" now. It's still the easiest game to cheat at...some things never change. B7?...uh, nope, another miss (ships move in real life, duh).

But that's not all. What's this? Puzzles? A puzzle would be fun on a snowy day. Set it up in the basement, light a fire, that's sounds pleasant. Throw it on into the cart. 200 pieces? Seems too small. 500? I have no clue. 1000? Sure, why not?

So, I went to Target to get a sled...and walked out with two inner tubes, Battleship and a 1000 piece puzzle of an underwater scene. All because it is going to snow the next day.

But we're not done. Off to the Giant to grab some food. Gotta have food on a snowy day. It appears as if everyone has this idea, as the place is crazy. It's gotta be the old "must have eggs, milk and toilet paper for a snow day rush." Why do they always show people buying these things to "prepare" for a snow day. My friends and I always joked about this, wondering if most people just sit at home eating omelets and shitting all day. Why would you just want those things?

We have higher expectations, and grab ingredients to make a chicken and rice dish for lunch and a crab dip with baguette for dinner. And to try and keep it healthy, we also buy some oranges and Fuji apples (they're the best) for shits and giggles.

Finally, I'm ready.

And now that it's all over...and the storm and cleanup have passed, I have this to show for it: We played one game of Battleship on Sunday night at around midnight, like kids on Christmas, and haven't touched it since; I overcooked the chicken because the rice took longer than expected; we took the inner tubes to the park and got a total of maybe 12 rides (one on the pink one) before my brother's dog popped them; I have a 1/3rd completed puzzle sitting on my downstairs table; and I was curled up in a ball from the incredible gas that I got from eating a crab, cream cheese and cheddar cheese dip at 9 PM for dinner.

Can't wait til the next snow storm!

Friday, February 27, 2009

Let's Get Physical

Wow, been almost three months since I last put up a post on here. Sorry for the slacking but I just wasn't all that motivated, as slow times at work lead to me becoming increasingly lazy, which in turn leads me to spending most afternoons and evenings sitting on my couch or in my bed, watching Tivo'd episodes of House.

This is a good thing and a bad thing. The good thing is that I am getting very well rested (like a bear "rests" in the Winter) for the upcoming swimming pool season. The bad thing is that if you watch enough episodes of House, you start to believe that perhaps you may have one of the conditions on the show. I'm lethargic. I get a headache on occassion. My throat's a little scratchy. My arm itches. Oh crap, I have sarcoidosis!!! Have you ever watched House? Everyone on that show at some point is believed to have sarcoidosis. Is this a common ailment? I almost didn't believe it was a real illness until I just googled it to make sure I spelled it right. And crap, I have sarcoidosis!!!

In any case, you watch enough sick people and it makes you decide perhaps it's best you get somebody to look at you, just in case. So, I checked my records to see when my last physical was (i.e. thought about it) and it looks like I haven't been in for a physical since July...of 1995.

Let's see, since then, I went to college, drank more alcohol than water for four years, ate lunch and dinner regularly in a fraternity house for three years, lived with some bizarre roommates, including a crazy German girl and a drunk, visited numerous Caribbean islands and Mexico (twice!!), tredged through sludge on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras, woke up next to numerous suspect women, bummed some random drugs off a complete stranger at a concert, handled "hazardous" chemicals for 10 years, had surgery to reset a broken jaw, ate Chinese food or sushi at least twice a week for 8 years, bought a dog, and walked around in Pittsburgh. If you don't see some red flags in that list, then I think you need to evaluate exactly when was the last time YOU had a physical.

So, I decided it was time to schedule my doctor's appointment, since three Presidents have been in office since I last had a physical. And last Thursday, I followed through on my appointment and made my way to the doctor's office for my physical.

First off, I don't have a "regular" doctor, so I went to the doctor that my parents go to. She's very nice and I actually went to see her about 5 years ago when I got a rash on my stomach. My stomach!! (Don't judge me, I'm not lying. I work by pools, it's a moist area. Whatever, screw you.) Unfortunately, this doctor has switched over the years from general family practice to predominantly OB/GYN. So I park my car, walk on in and sign my name on the sign in sheet. The girl behind the counter finds my file and comments that I haven't been there in 5 years (good thing she doesn't know how long it's been since my last physical) and I fill out some paper work since my address and info. have changed since then.

Meanwhile, a young girl (maybe 16) and her mom walk in, as does a second woman in her 40s. So there we are sitting in the waiting room, plenty of Vogue and Cosmo magazines to go around, waiting for our names to be called. It is during this wonderful, not awkward in the least moment, that I see the girl lean over to her mom and ask why I'm there. It's a small waiting room and I'm like five feet from her, did she really think I wouldn't hear??? Thankfully, I'm saved from this awkwardness by the nurse calling my name and I make my way to the back.

After a quick trip to the scale (weighing in at 189...less than a hibernating bear, so I'm feeling good), we're in the examination room and she's taking my blood pressure and temperature. She tells me my blood pressure is a little high, but I'm gonna blame that on the girl in the waiting room, and then the nurse gets up to leave. She hands me a robe and a blanket and tells me to take off all my clothes and put these on. This is a move I'm wondering why I never tried with the ladies back in the day. "Yeah, I'm gonna head to the bathroom real quick. Why don't you just take off all your clothes and put this on. It'll make things a lot easier when I get back. Bras can sometimes confuse me after a night of drinking."

Within minutes, my bare ass is sitting on the table with this table cloth loosely draped over me, and in walks the doctor. She goes through your typical questions and background crap, taps my knee with the hammer, listens to my chest, looks up my nose and in my ears, and with the grace of a pro, pulls out the table extender and asks me to lay down and turn on my side.

Ah crap. I knew this one was coming. After a brief description of the likelihood of prostate cancer developing in men, some dinner, a glass of wine, and some Barry White playing in the background, she checks my prostate mid-sentence, as if nothing has changed. Uh, lady, your finger is up my ass and you're asking me about swimming pools. I think I'll wait this one out before I answer this question for fear of developing a connection between the two and pooping myself everytime I visit a client's house.

Having never been a part of a gynechological exam, I can only imagine that it must be a real chatty affair with her hands all up in there. "Oh, how are the kids?" "Just great." "And your husband? Still busy at work?" "Oh, you know Steve." "Ha, ha." But I digress.

So, we get that all wrapped up and move on to the ball grabbingly great hernia and testicle examination. I swear I called a doctor, not a hooker. She asks me a few more questions, I mention that my arms go numb when I sleep with them above my head (apparently that's not normal), and she makes me an appointment for an MRI. She also schedules a standard blood test, so after no visits for 14 years, I'm already penciled in for two more in two weeks. Grand.

I get dressed and make my way out of the examination room. And as I make my exit, and the nurse jokingly says that I should come by a bit more often, I reply, "Oh yeah, I'll see you again in about 10 years."

She laughed.