Pushing the Envelope

Life is just too... rigid.

We live in societies that have rules upon rules and layers of acceptability upon other layers.  I find that as I age, I can't help but question more and more of them.

I should probably mention at this point (actually, I should have mentioned it before) that there is a strong possibility this post will prove to be vague... perhaps excessively so.  But I'll try to clear up what I mean...

I work in what could be described as a "traditional" field.  One in which men are men.  They do manly things.  They lift heavy objects.  They get greasy and dirty.  They grunt about horsepower.  They make disparaging comments about their wives they'd never genuinely have the courage to make to her.  You know... "man stuff."

But they're also remarkably close-minded.

I'd like to avoid too much detail, partly for concern that others in my line of work be construed too negatively (indeed, they are all good people... just people who have led 'traditional,' homogeneous lives).  Part of my vagaries I hope to "protect the innocent," so to speak.  I have not asked permission to speak about the following people, so I don't wish to offend in the extremely unlikely event they stumble upon this blog (seriously, a Barbie/Mr. T boxing match in which Ike Turner is the victor is a more likely scenario than that...).

But at any rate, I have a pair of female customers who come in on a semi-regular basis who are among the most pleasant and nicest people in the world to deal with.  They're both intelligent, witty, and strike up great conversation.  And they're just damned pleasant to deal with.  Most of my staff have encountered them on more than one occasion.

To my staff, those young ladies are just "those lesbians."

Oh, did I fail to mention that they were lesbians?

Of course I did.

BECAUSE IT WASN'T RELEVANT.

Or the two extremely polite customers who are always interested in learning more about how their vehicle works and why.

They aren't "those nice, inquisitive women."  They get branded as "those cross dressers."

Failed to mention that one, too?

Again...

NOT RELEVANT.

Let me take a quick aside here, lest I be judged as "another Internet soap box guy."  I will be the first to admit that when I was younger, I made the mistake of falling into that crowd.  I made the mistake of placing someone's sexuality or personal proclivities over the person as a whole.  Took one aspect and made a judgment.

But as I matured and more life experiences took hold, I came to realize how stupid that was.  There's only one run at life... so shouldn't we strive to enjoy it?  More importantly... what makes us think we have the right to determine how someone else enjoys it?

I've been a tabletop wargamer for many years (I'm going somewhere with this, I promise).  I once heard someone say something about wargaming that has stuck with me.

"No one has the right to tell you how to enjoy your hobby."

I just wish that could apply to life and that we'd loosen up; mix black and white, gay and straight, Cardassian and Bajoran...  and have people stop fearing or dwelling on certain traits.

I admit that I've kind of lost where I was going here.  It's late, I'm tired, and this was, admittedly, poorly plotted in my mind... but I hope it gets you thinking.

It's got me thinking... I've been afraid off a story for some time... in part because of the classic fears, and in part because of society's envelope.  I didn't know how far I could push it before the tapestry of my story unraveled; before my words were ignored as a cheap vessel to write "smut" or "advance an agenda."

Honestly, I still don't know how far I can push.

And I am still afraid.

But I think I need to put aside that fear and write.  Tell the world my story.

I encourage you to do the same.

The Naked Truth...

Tonight's episode of AMC's The Walking Dead has got me thinking about a few things.

1) I am not pleased with the current portrayal of Michonne.  I can't place my finger on whether or not it's the writing or the acting... but Michonne isn't screaming "badass" to me right now.  She's actually screaming "probable daddy issues."

2) I know I'm treading dangerously close to rehashing a consistent joke here... but lay off the black guys!  Seriously!  We meet Oscar as a true option for joining the group, so you kill off T-Dog.  Now Tyreese joins the cast  so it's time to kill off Oscar already?  This isn't Highlander.  There CAN be more than one!

3) Kill Andrea.  For fuck's sake, just do it.

4) More Rick.  More Darryl.  Less not-Rick and not-Darryl.  Thank you.

5) Carl, get back in the---no.  I won't make that joke.  I'm sorry for even considering it.

6) AMC... it's not a "cliffhanger" if your montage of clips from future episodes shows the character hanging from the cliff in a state of clearly not hanging from a cliff.  Anti-climaxed.

7) I'm still waiting for Wil Wheaton to join the cast.  Get back to me.

Now that I've got all that off my chest, let's talk nudity.

Last week, Maggie was figuratively stripped of her dignity with some literal stripping of her clothing.  This week, we were reminded of that in the "last week" compilation.  We also see Maggie wearing Glenn's shirt this week as he's gone all Conan the Korean Barbarian.  I don't get it.

Actually, I do get it... but I don't.

I understand that there's an aspect of modesty and appropriateness to Maggie being clothed (not to mention decorum guidelines networks have to follow).  And I understand that it's a reinforcement of Maggie and Glenn's bond and his desire to help look out for her and so forth.

I just think it sends the wrong message.

Not to the audience, but to their captors.  Putting aside the possibility that to even survive in the Zombie Apocalypse, one would most likely have to, at least, loosen one's sense of modesty - Maggie wearing clothing is exactly what her captors want.

Follow me on this... because I way I see it, the whole point of stripping Maggie of his clothes was to establish dominance.  And it sent a powerful message to Maggie.  She's no longer in control of even her own body.  She's got no physical barriers protecting her from unknown intentions.  It can sow the seeds of mistrust with Glenn, because he's going to wonder why she's been paraded in naked (or, topless as the case may be).

And it works.  Maggie's shame (and fear) is obvious.  She covers up instantly with her hands, and switches to a new shirt as soon as is possible.

Would it not have been a more effective counter-technique for Maggie to stand tall in the face of her shame?  An attitude of nonchalance (even if feigned) would be a powerful weapon of defiance in the face of domination.

After all, it's just nudity.  Is there really that much shame to it?

Why?

Things I Have No Use For...

I've been thinking a lot lately about surplus and necessity.

Mostly, I look around and I see a full apartment.  An apartment that just 2 years ago was "huge" and "empty" compared to our last.  Now, I see books.  Movies.  CDs.  Furniture.  All of which wasn't there for before.

This is not a problem in and of itself, but add that to the fact that I still have all the OLD books.  And movies.  And CDs.  And furniture.

And honestly... how much of it do I really need?  I wonder.

If I were to go through everything here that is mine, how much of it have I not even looked at in the last month?  The last year?  The last 5 years?

I think that's why I'm setting my new year's resolution now... for 2013, instead of increasing my possessions, I'll be looking to downsize.  I'm going to start next year now with a box of things I don't need anymore.

It won't be easy.  It won't be fun... but I think it's a good step in my growth as a person.

I would encourage everyone to do the same.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, I'm moving back toward increasing production on the blog.  I made a post last week, and I've managed to get one up now.  In time, I hope to eventually reach a 3-5 update a week schedule... but for now, 1 a week is a start.  A good start.  Better than what I had going, at least.

And, before I forget, I've picked up some new writing gigs.  Once I receive more information from the campaign manager, I'll be working on some web content for a local politician. 

Further, check out Hi Voltage Ware.  It features jewelry from a local Sarasota artist who has just picked me up to work on some content for the pieces of jewelry.  As of right now, none of the copy is my work - but within a month I'm hoping to have rewritten it.  If you like what you see as the content develops and are looking for some content for any of your own projects, feel free to drop me a message or email.  I am currently taking on new clients and projects.

Until next Sunday.

Why We Fight

I've been thinking a lot lately about why we do what we do.  Why I do what I do.  And whether or not it's genuinely to my benefit or detriment.

My normal schedule goes a little something like this:

Wake up.  Go to work.  Come home.  Go home to the wife. Sleep.  Repeat.  Take 2 days off.

That's a terribly basic breakdown of the routine.  From there, I figure we've got two ways to look at life: positively or negatively.  Of course, I can substitute other words in there depending on how cynical I feel at any given moment.  Optimistic and pessimistic.  Idealistic and realistic.  And so on.

So the above could really read more like:

Rise early to get a new day started.  Put meaning into the day by working a job with a decent paycheck to support my family.  Spend quality time with my best friend and eternal partner.  Get a good night's sleep to revitalize the mind.  Enjoy a couple days worth of downtime to recharge my body and raise my spirits.

Life is pretty sweet when I paint a bland picture like that.

Then again, it could be this:

Get out of a warm bed and away from my wife well before the sun rises to endure a thankless job in which my supervisors would have no qualms about replacing me (or anybody) at any time since they figure people are lined up to take my position.  Dangle a paycheck above my head as if the only thing that mattered in my life was their money.  Get home after a 12 hour shift and try to spend time with my wife... except that we still need to go grocery shopping.  And clean the house.  And cook dinner.  And respond to time demands from friends.  And family.  Then still get to bed early enough that I can wake up the next day to repeat.  But at least there's 2 days I get to myself.  Except that my phone needs to be on because I'm expected to be available to both my employees and my bosses at all times.  For any reason.  And actually, it's only 1 day off.  Because my people can't be trusted to stay out of trouble without me there.  But at least it's still a day.  Except that it's half a day or less... because I wasn't able to finish chore X or activity Y during the work week.  But at least I get to spend that day with my family... except that I work weekends, so I'm off on weekdays.  When everyone else is working...

Realistically, for most of us, I think it's a mix of the two, even though some days it feels like one or the other.

So why do we do it?

Why do we... why do I voluntarily separate myself from my loved ones to spend half my time working for people who aren't actually concerned with me... but rather my position?  Why do I commit 72 hours a week (12 hours a day, 6 days a week) to that?

The math behind that is staggeringly unbalanced, by the way.  That's 72 hours a week.  A day is, obviously, 24 hours.  8 of that is, in theory, reserved for sleeping.  That leaves 16 hours left.  Which is 112 waking hours in a week.  And 72 of that is work... leaving a whopping 40 hours to split among family, friends, chores, relaxation, and entertainment.

Ultimately, I don't know.  If I had the answer, I wouldn't need to ruminate on such things.

But still... isn't there a better way?  Does work really need to be the driving factor in life?  Why do we do that to ourselves?

Something to mull over while I sleep tonight and prepare for another day in the grind tomorrow...

Goodnight, moon.  Goodnight, life behind the work...

Contented...

You know what I do a lot?

Rant.

There's always something I'm ready to complain about.  Or condemn.  Or dislike.

And you why?

...

Neither do I.

Maybe I hit my head too hard.  Or breathed in too many vehicle fumes.  Or maybe I've just had an epiphany.  I'm not sure.  What I do know is that life is good.

I'm 26.  I'm living in an awesome condo.  I have a solid credit score.  I have a job with a strong base pay and an awesome bonus package.  I have an amazing fiance who I'm set to marry in the fall.  I have a great group of friends I surround myself with.

I really couldn't ask for more.

So I won't.

Right now, I'll just be happy and trek on toward the marriage milestone.  Then... who knows?  Buy a house next?  Kids?  Some kind of jet propelled, monkey navigated rocket sled?  A buddy cop-style adventure with Bruce Campbell?

Doesn't matter.  Time to live in the moment... because this moment is good.

A Few of My Favorite Things - Days 14 - 17

DAYS 14 - 17: VALENTINE'S DAY

Sorry about the absence there.  I missed the last few days of posting for a few reasons.

1) The 14th was, if you're not aware, Valentine's Day.  Now, normally the lady friend and I don't actually do Valentine's Day, as we tend to lump it all in together with MegaCon and our anniversary.

This was not the case this year.  On my way home from work, I became inspired to pull off a last minute Valentine's Day.  And since I'm such a generous guy, I decided to involve Lance in this as well (I made the assumption that he didn't come up with anything for Valentine's Day and I was, off course, correct).

This set a frenzy of events into motion.  Some quick discussion determined we would hold the dinner at his place, and I set him about to the task of hunting down rose petals and finding some good mood music.

In the meantime, I set out to find the food.  And food I did find... by the time we were finished, here's what I came up with:

APPETIZERS: Proscuitto wrapped cantaloupe and 12 year-old scotch

DINNERS: Filet Mignon, Lobster Tail, Garlic whipped potatoes, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and a German Riesling

All in all, it went well.  A good Valentine's Day dinner that was shared between two couples.  And all thrown together last minute.

I rule.

2) Hotels suck.  I spent Wednesday and Thursday at the Marriot World Resort in Orlando for the company's annual meeting.  My rage was greatly stoked when I sat down Wednesday night to post and found that the Marriott, being the colossal douche-holes that they apparently are, do not offer free Wi-Fi.

Jerks

At any rate, we're back up an running and I'll be back in Orlando tomorrow for the first MegaCon I've been able to attend in several years.  So I should have some good stuff for tomorrow's post - providing I get Internet access at the hotel.

We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties...back on the 16th when Internet working

A Few of My Favorite Things - Day 13

DAY 13: CLOSURE

I met with an ex today.  Not just any ex, either.  The one with whom I've had a longer lasting relationship than any other (my lovely fiance notwithstanding).

And I think, all in all, it was a good experience.

It's been about 6 years since we've been together.  And in the last 6 years, I can't say I've given her much thought.  I never really do when it comes to my exes.  Relationships end, I get rid of everything the relationship brought me, and I move on.  And when I do think of my exes, I tend to only think of the bad times.

Perhaps I should re-evaluate that habit.

Having nothing but nice things to say tonight helped create some perspective for me.

You see... she's looking great, compared to the last time I saw her.  She's healthy, happy, and had a plethora of stories to tell... most of which painted me as the bad guy.

And I probably deserve that role.  I am a colossal asshole at heart.  But realizing my status as the bad guy brought me to thinking.

We were a train wreck of a couple.  Just nightmarish.  In absolutely every imaginable way.  Nothing in common with one another at all.  Which was only reinforced tonight when she commented that my hat was stupid.

You know the hat... this one...

And that's when everything started falling into place for me.

I had my closure from the relationship that I never realized I was waiting for.

It wasn't enough that my life moved on.  It wasn't enough that I hadn't seen her in years, or hadn't kept anything from the relationship.  I needed to appreciate her.  Or... at last what I carried away from the relationship.

I carried away the maturity and awareness to know what I was looking for.

Now I'm with a woman who plays the same games as me.  Reads the same books.  Watches the same shows and movies.  Laughs at the same jokes.  Likes the same foods.

I'm with someone who matches up with me in every way.

I really, genuinely, could not be happier than I am with Bree.

And more importantly, I know she feels the same way.

Thank you for the good times, Meagan.  Thank you for helping me rule out what I wasn't looking for so I could find what I was.

And thank you, Bree, for promising to spend your life with me.  I'll try to make it worth your while.

A Few of My Favorite Things - Day 12

DAY 12: LOKI, GOD OF MISCHIEF

I am well acquainted with Loki, a mischievous being of pure trouble and mayhem.

No.  Not that Loki.  This one.

Yup.  That fat little bastard is my cat, Loki.  Bree and I have 2 other cats, as well... but they don't get to make the favorite things list.  But Loki does.

Because he's actually a dog.

Can't you see the resemblance?

You see, I don't much care for cats.  They're haughty, arrogant, and kind of doofy looking.  So when Bree and I rescued Loki from the shelter, I raised him like a dog - sans the walks, that is.

Something stuck with this little guy, creating the single most personable and affectionate cat I've ever met.  He has this overwhelming need to be around people, and gets incredibly excited when someone new comes into the room.  On the same vein, however, he actually gets incredibly nervous when people are in our condo... but not in the same room he is.  That practically forces him to find where the people are so he can remind everyone that he's there.

It's actually pretty damned cool.

Plus... on the sappy side... when I met Bree, she had a cat.  I'd always had dogs.  It was another "hers" versus "mine" moments... and Loki get to be another one of those "our" moments.

No matter how bad a day I'm having, that little fat-ass is always there, ready to purr his big heart (enlarged?) away for some attention.

A Few of My Favorite Things - Day 11

DAY 11: MY LITTLE DICK

I know what you're thinking.

Stop it.

That's not what I'm talking about.

This is.

That's Richard... a genuinely entertaining sociopath from Looking for Group, a webcomic put out by Blind Ferret Entertainment.

In fact, I enjoy the comic (and the other works from the good folks at Blind Ferret) that I jumped at the chance to meet the guys at MegaCon a few years back.  I even got a chance to have Richard signed.

And, with a small bribe of Red Bull and Cadbury Cream Eggs, I even got a little Dick I can keep in my pocket.

So why do this plush toy and little metal key chain deserve a place among the Favorite Things?

Well... I may be leaving the important part out of my story...

You see, MegaCon and Blind Ferret are both greatly enjoyed by more than just myself.  My lovely fiance, Bree, enjoys them just as much.  It was Bree who introduced me to MegaCon, and it was me who introduced her to Blind Ferret.  Until we got a chance to meet the creators, MegaCon was her thing that I went along to... just as Blind Ferret was my thing that she followed.

It may sound sappy and lame... but meeting the creators at MegaCon was one of the first times our interests genuinely merged together.

The plush toy and key chain are just what they look like... pointless trinkets.  But they remind me of one of my actual favorite things...

...One of those unspoken key moments when I realized that there was beginning to be less of "me" and more of "us."

It was nice, in one of those sappy ways.

A Few of My Favorite Things - Day 10

DAY 10: EVEN NUMBERS

I am not an organized person.  My organizational skills could be described as somewhere between "controlled mess" and "nuclear holocaust."

I've also always been pretty contrary, though.  Not for the sake of irony or the sake of being contrary... I just don't generally buy into things that most people buy into.

So maybe that's why, despite my lack of organizational skills, I've always been a fan of even numbers.

These are the most patriotic even numbers I've ever seen...

Think about it - even numbers are wildly consistent.

If you add an even # to an even #, you get another even #.  Add two odds, and you still get an even.

Subtract an even from an even and you get an even.  Subtract an odd from an odd, and you get another even.

Multiply two evens together, and guess what... more evens.

I think you get the idea.

Something about the consistency of evens is comforting to me, and definitely one of my favorite things.

A Few of My Favorite Things - Day 9

DAY 9: COOKING

I love to cook.  It's a joy of mine that I discovered somewhere in the ballpark of 15 years ago, when I used to go through the food in my parents' home and say to myself "this just isn't what I'm feeling today."

I would take whatever wacky ingredients I could find and just start throwing them together on the stovetop.

This habit followed me well into college and beyond, to such a degree that it is not uncommon now for me to spend an entire day off doing nothing but cooking.

Sure, I've had my fair share of culinary nightmares... but by and large, entire my cooking hits more than it misses... or I've got some very considerate friends who won't admit to disliking it.

Three of my recent favorites to whip up are my 'country lunch' (jalapeno corn, fried green tomatoes, and a stewed tomato/kidney bean concoction), homemade shrimp fried rice, and fish soup (cod/tilapia, shrimp, mussels, tomatoes, peppers, onion, seafood stock, lobster stock, and my own blend of spices).

I can't think of much that would make this better...

...except maybe this guy.

Who knows what I'll make next?  I guess it depends on what kind of theme I'm feeling, and what inspiration I can find around that theme!

A Few of My Favorite Things - Day 8

DAY 8: GLOVE AND BOOTS

These guys below are nominated for the Shorty Award for "Best Video Blogger."

It is our solemn duty as Americans... NAY!  Citizen of the world to help a groundhog or a red guy win BEST VIDEO BLOGGER!

Otherwise, Justin Bieber's DJ might win...

And then what would happen to America?  Or the moon?

Won't you please think about the moon?!

Also... these guys are on of my favorite things.

A Few of My Favorite Things - Day 7

DAY 7: THE "I'M FEELING BETTER" DAY

You know that first day you know you're better after being sick?  Not that first day you start to recover... and not that day when everyone else realizes you're better.  No, that first day that you know that you're better.

That day where you've got the once-in-a-while sniffle and the one-time-every-5-hours cough.  That day where you feel like you could take on a bull elephant with a Q-Tip and some bikini wax.  That day everyone else tells you to "take it easy and get better" and you just want to cram a flaming spear down their gullet because you know you're again ready to take on the world.  Take it on hard.  And fast.  And without any lube.

Yeah... that day.

This photo is in no way relevant... just fun.

I'm having that day today.

And I just realized that day is actually one of my favorite things.

So screw you, world!  That day is today!  And I hope the way I took you on was consensual!

A Few of My Favorite Things: Day 6

DAY 6: CAMPBELL'S CONDENSED CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP

Chicken Noodle with lots of ingredients is all well and good... but no match for condensed when under the weather.

I am quite ill today.  And when that happens, there's only one thing I want: the unadulterated glory of condensed chicken noodle soup.

Go soup!

A Few of My Favorite Things: Day 5

DAY 5: DRUNK SANTA

You'd think this one speaks for itself...

I can't say a whole lot about Drunk Santa, other than he makes me happy.  Some careless individual at Target, or perhaps some inconsiderate jackass customer, make up this product in such a manner as to brighten up my Christmas spirits.  Given that I'm not a particularly religious person and that I don't celebrate Christmas anymore, but rather Zombie Christmas, it can be tough to light my Christmas fire.

I felt it was my solemn responsibility to preserve the memory of Drunk Santa via photo for 3 reasons:

1) Leaving Drunk Santa on the shelf gave hundreds of lucky children everywhere (who go to that particular store, at least) a chance to see who Santa really is... absolutely, 100%, and without question (probably).

2) Bringing Drunk Santa home and setting him up as Drunk Santa is less a Christmas miracle and more "that guy who makes Santa look drunk in his home."

3) Drunk Santa is actually pretty ugly.  I can think of better, and possibly even more drunk, Santas to spend my money on.

Drunk Santa - I raise my glass to you in the hopes that you'll continue to confuse Christmas trees with urinals and wrapped presents with toilet bowls.

A Few of my Favorite Things: Day 4

DAY 4 - STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE

I love Star Trek.  It's got certain qualities that I haven't seen in other sci-fi television or movie series.

Conversely, I used to like Star Wars.  But that was a long time ago. I grew out of that phase sometime during the Special Edition Trilogy.  I didn't realize it until the nightmare that was the Prequel Trilogy, but I think that's where Lucas lost me and Roddenberry took over.

See, from my point of view, Star Wars is purely about one story: here's what happened to these people during this war (also...bonus incest!)

Trek has always offered more than that.  The characters are deeper.  The stories often have an undertone.  And, of course, TV series format has the added advantage of giving an audience the same characters over an extended period.  It allows for emotional bonds to be built and characters to develop real personalities.

To add some specificity... Deep Space Nine has proven itself to be the deepest of the Trek series.

Now don't get me wrong... deep down, the Enterprise will always have a dear place to me.

That's our favorite lady...

And Jean-Luc Picard is still the best Starfleet captain out there (and Data is still the best science officer).

I think they can see us...

But Deep Space Nine had a stationary vantage point that made the story revolve more around how the characters responded to what proved to be their extra curricular activities.  See... Sisko and company couldn't just up and fly around the galaxy like Picard could.  The direct consequences of each episode could be felt for seasons to come.

Add in some of the more thought provoking show elements, and you've got a hell of an enjoyable and re-watchable series in the works.

Some of my favorites, in no particular order:

1) The Prophets - what if God was really a super powerful alien who actually proved to be confused with how we perceive the universe?  The Prophets understood what Bajor was, and who the Bajorans were... but they couldn't really guide Bajoran lives from point A to B to C... because to them, points A, B, and C are all already done.  No linear time to guide them.

2) The Cardassian/Bajoran relationship - just what happens when an oppressed people is practically forced to change their relationship with their bitter rivals overnight?  We still hear the horror stories of the Holocaust today... and the wounds of American slavery are still recent in the eyes of history... but we're talking 50 or 100 years removed.  How do those people who were directly involved cope only days or weeks or months after the fact?

Also, I can't forget my sweet Deep Spaceball Nine hat.

Best hat I ever got.

So, at any rate, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, I salute you.  Welcome to my favorite things.

A toast to the Favorite Things from the Alpha Quadrant's greatest bromance!

A Few of My Favorite Things: Day 3

DAY 3: COFFEE MAKER IN THE BEDROOM

I keep my coffee maker in the bedroom.

Right next to the bed.

In fact, I can reach the coffee maker more easily than I can reach my phone (also my alarm clock) and my laptop.

It actually rocks.  A lot.

Borrowed without permission from ineedcoffee.com - no intrusion meant, guys!  Keep up the good work!

I made this move for a couple of reasons.

1) I love the smell of fresh coffee in the morning.

2) I love a cup of fresh coffee in the morning.

3) I'm terrible about using the kitchen in the morning.

Putting the coffee maker in the bedroom ensures that I wake up smelling coffee, and that I don't forget to actually pour myself a cup in the morning.  Seriously, this was a common problem for me.  I'd go through the trouble of setting a pot to auto brew for the morning, then completely forget to grab a cup until I was halfway to work.

Now I actually wake up in the morning to the sound of percolating coffee.  It is genuinely a peaceful way to wake up, and certainly better than the jarring blare of my phone's alarm.  I then get to relax in bed for a few minutes, absorbing the morning, before I'm up and about and on the way to work.

Thank you coffee maker in the bedroom.  You've made such an impact on my morning routine that you've made my list as item #3 of my favorite things!

A Few of My Favorite Things…DAY 2

DAY 2 : THE DRIVE HOME

I leave for work at 6 AM every morning.  Before the sun comes up.  9 days out of 10, I come home more than 12 hours later, well after the sun has set.  That means I live, quite literally, in the dark.  I occasionally see the sun on my days off (I see it at work, too… but work sun is different from non-work sun apparently).

Incidentally, that sort of scheduling means I don’t have time for normal daytime people things.  Like banking in a real bank (not that I ever really did that when I did work reasonable hours… it would just be nice to know I could if I wanted to).

Add in the fact that I spend most of my days getting yelled at by customer who don’t know what they’re even yelling about, and when they aren’t yelling at me, one of my teammates is doing something so stupid that I have to yell at them.   Cap that off with a healthy dose of my superiors yelling at me (next week, for example, will be a doozy – my personal sales suck this week because I’ve been engrossed in doing yearly performance evaluations and I just know I’m going to hear about that next week), and I often leave work more stressed out and riled up that a T-Rex dosing on meth and Surge.

Which is why the drive home is the second installment on my list of favorite things.

I live in Sarasota.

I work in Apollo Beach.

This looks nothing like either of those places.  Except the road.  I guess those look the same anywhere.

In normal traffic, I can expect that trip to take roughly 45 minutes.  And I enjoy every second of it.  A chance to drive fast, crank up the radio, and wind down.

There’s nothing quite like the piece that comes from a glorious detached limbo.  A separation from work stress and home-based chores.  A good chance to recharge my batteries so by the time I get home, I’m neither angry nor frustrated (or, at least, I can minimize those feelings instead of feeling the need to club a baby seal).

The drive home, thank you for letting me keep my home and work lives separate.  I salute you as one of my 29 favorite things.

I simply remember my favorite things...

...and then I won't rant so much.

I rant a lot.

I rant at home.  I rant at work.  Sometimes I even rant in between home and work.

I don't know why I rant.  I just do.  And I'm beginning to think all that ranting can't possibly be good for me over the long term.  So I've decided that February will be rant-free.  Indeed, February will be a POSITIVE month.

Maybe it's the impending doom that a bunch of dead Mayans foretold.  Maybe it's the novelty of the leap year. Hard to say, really.

So instead of a month's worth of rants, I will be going through 29 of my favorite things (1 a day) for the next month.

So here we go.  My first favorite thing to kick off my Fantasically Favorite February Festival... drum roll please...

1) GIRLS IN SUNDRESSES

I think it's fair to say with full confidence and without exaggeration that girls in sundresses are such a joy that the sheer level of awesomeness surpasses sliced bread, rocket-powered snow shoes, and Mountain Dew put together.  Case in point...

Thank you for being you, T Mobile Girl.  And also for providing me with acceptable cell phone services

Something about a sundress speaks of a simpler time.  A time before tedious reports, office politics, burnt dinners, wars on terrors, poorly managed governments, and obnoxious personal schedules.

Maybe it's the airy nature of the sundress itself.  Or the playfulness.  The vibrancy of color, perhaps.  Could even be the organic and peaceful flow of the design.  The way it all comes together makes the sundress one of my secret weaknesses (the other being Kryptonite).

Girls in sundresses are the only conceivable benefit I can imagine to living in Florida.  I hear all year long that Florida is one of those "paradise" states... much like Eden or Risa.  But I never really see it... until I realize that holy crap...it's January, and there's a girl in a sundress.

So to all the girls out there in sundresses (bonus points for January sundress wearers), I salute you.  Thank you for making my life just a little better, and thank you for helping me kick off 29 of my favorite things.

Caught with my rants around my ankles

I’ve noticed a distinct inability to rant coherently in myself lately.  There was once a time when I could spout a rant with the best of them.  Some were well thought out.  Others… I just came off as surly and uncaring. 

Now?

Not so much.

With the ranting, that is.  The surly and uncaring part?  Still have that in droves.

Don’t get me wrong: there are still so many things I hate that I could fill a book called “Things I Hate.”  It wouldn’t exactly be a best seller, but I could fill it up.  Spoiler alert – waffles would definitely NOT be on that list.  Waffles!

That said, every time a good rant starts to form in my head lately, a funny thing happens.  The whole damned thing just doesn’t seem important enough to rant about anymore.  Maybe I’m maturing?  Maybe I just don’t care as much anymore.

In the meantime, hang in there with me.  I’ll get that old rant machine rolling again.

Bad Opening Sentence of Day - January 22nd

It is a sad state of affairs when a young father's propensity toward extramarital activities with colorful women comes to light, but not quite as sad as when the father's resultant illness causes his daughter's first word to be chlamydia.

Bad Writing can feel so Good...

Another candidate for world's worst opening line to a novel:

As he ran his hands down the stripper’s smooth ebony body in the VIP room of Mother Nature’s Gentlemen’s Club, Carter Platt, a local literary critic, bit the inside of his cheeks hard to stifle himself from laughing at the ironic notion that he had passed over the athletic Nordic beauty “Sunshine” and the robust Russian “Thunder” just so he could fully experience a dark and “Stormy” night.

Writing the World's Worst Novel...

So 2012 is here and I've been thinking a lot lately about how much writing I haven't done recently. I suppose it's all understandable, what with the new position at work dominating nearly 70 hours a week and the general home responsibilities... but still... no post in over a year? What the hell, man?

Deciding I needed to remedy this situation, I went out the other day and bought a new writing computer. A decent little laptop that I can use to get a little something done everyday on.

That said, I've been checking out the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. Definitely seems like something I could get on board with...

So today's post is just a little something simple. A musing for a terrible opening sentence to the world's worst novel. No real refining or editing, just something I thought up while getting some work papers done.

After skipping a pebble across the pond's tranquil surface, I sat hunched over in the rickety rowboat staring at a thousand reflections left by the rock's ripples as they gazed back at me, conveying an image of grief, solitude, and emptiness and I found myself accompanied only by a single thought - an epiphany, really - gracing my mind: sometimes the fastest way to find yourself abandoned by those you care for most is a scathing remark, a bean burrito, and a wicked fart.