Saturday, September 27, 2008

Shut up and be happy.....sweet heart

I just got back from a stretch in civil service. No I wasn't part of the surge in Iraq or looking for terrorists in Afghanistan. I was serving my country as a juror in one of the great municipal courts here in the United States of, trial by jury, America. I have a long post formulating in my head about all the facets of jury duty, but in my pattern of writing a long post only after an appropriately short one (I have to give the one reader that I have a break, right?)
After jury duty my wife and I went to Ikea. Why go to Ikea? because I am sure amongst the millions of wicker baskets, there is something that we need or don't know that we need, but when we see the bottle opener that doubles as a guest bed, we will realize that we need it more than life itself, or the 3.49 that they are charging for it. (That and their cinnamon rolls are delicious) I love shopping with my wife because I don't have to think of anything to say. Conversations are so easy, and they go something like this:
My wife: Oh my goodness! that is so cute, I love that. Sweet heart, do you like that?
Me: I hate it.
My wife then sighs in frustration.
While in Ikea I decided to play a game that all men wish they could play with their wife at one time or another, it's the "let's see who can stay quiet the longest!" The rules are simple: The first one to talk or make any gesture that indicates communication, loses.
I continued to walk through Ikea, holding my wife's hand in total silence and I realized..... I love this. I really like being alone, but I think I really also just like complete and total silence, uninterrupted by someone asking me what I am thinking. I don't think I would like that all the time, but extended periods of total silence are wonderful. I think that so many moments are destroyed (not talking about my life or wife, but just in general) by people talking. Silence helps me enjoy moments so much more. I am not a fan or tours, because when I see something new or for the first time, or both, I want to be able to soak it in without having to either explain it or have it explained away to me. Silence makes life and everything in it so much clearer. If you haven't recently, take some time to drive off somewhere and enjoy some nice silence.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Rob Roddy's new career

I know that Rob Roddy is dead and we will all miss him terribly. Is there a voice on TV or radio as distinguished and recognized as that of Rob Roddy? I don't think so. He got to wear things as flamboyantly gay as Richard Simmons or Siegfried and Roy, but was never mocked for it. Look at this picture! I found this picture on headlining the article about his death. THAT SUCKS! I hope they find a more dignified picture of me when I die, rather than one that could be captioned with "You'll be next muahahahahaha!"
This post isn't about Rob Roddy, but rather about voices. I do a mean "rain man." I also sound so much like a radio DJ on the phones that at least 2 people will mention it every day. I do it because it makes the phone conversation fun for me, because there is nothing else that I do on the phones at work that is any fun at all, and so I can mask my homicidal anger towards the people that I talk to and the suicidal dread (could also be embarrassment or shame (our prices are really high)) I feel right before I give someone the price for the product they want to purchase with me.
I was on a call yesterday and my new supervisor happened to be listening from his desk. (I suck at selling stuff so I asked him to listen to a call and give me some tips (I didn't know that he was listening to this specific call)) I answered with my usual fake enthusiasm and continued the call that way until I saw an e-mail notification pop up on my screen with the subject that read, "You sound like a radio DJ, slow down!" I toned down my...... tone but it didn't stop my customer from saying, "You know, you really missed your calling, you should have been a radio DJ." (like 2 minutes after I got the e-mail) I had to put my customer on hold so I could control my laughter at the timing. My supervisor came over and laughed at me as well.
After all was said and done, my supervisor said that I should be more real. My dilemma is that if I am "real" I would have to tell these people how stupid they are and how much I hate them. So I overcompensate. I overcompensate to the point of actually parodying what I think a sales person sounds like. I sound like a radio commercial for used cars.
The point is, when you can't make it, fake it (sounds like a motto for unhappy housewives or bad porn actresses), and when you are told to stop faking it, uh........... I don't know. I don't know how to be real at work, because if I were real, I would really not want to be here. Pretending that I am happy is what gets me through the day. it's what gets me through a lot of things, and I don't plan on stopping because I overcompensate to the point of sounding ridiculous. I guess I am just not a good actor, but the ridiculousness of it entertains me and helps me survive the endless black hole of misery that is a day at work.

Friday, September 19, 2008

The Following Act

I haven't written in a while (I am not apologizing) because I find it hard to follow "Who Wants to be a Racist Millionaire." I really liked that post, and the title alone should earn me an award of some kind. My blog is not a journal or a series of thoughts. I really view it as personal essays and I want them to be good. I am reminded of "Topper" from the Dilbert cartoons. We all know this type of person: No matter what you have to say, he has done it harder, faster, and first.

I am my own topper.

I suggest you look into "Topper" themed Dilbert cartoons on Google or whatever. They are very funny.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Who Wants to be a Racist Millionaire?

Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to "Who Wants to be a Racist Millionaire?" the game in which contestants win prizes for guessing whether a certain act is racist or just plain idiocy (because jerkism isn't a word and my parents don't like when I use the word douchebaggery).

(audience applauds)

Are you ready to play?!

(audience screams)

OK, then let's get started!

Question number one: You are a dark skinned Spanish girl at a restaurant and a man is blocking the way to your seat and his wife's purse and his coat are lying where your bum will be. He looks up at you as you obviously make your way to the seat and he does nothing to resolve your seating dilemma . Is it racism or idiocy?

Is that your final answer?

Question number two: You are a Spanish speaking girl in an English 101 college course and the professor refers to you only as "The ESL (English as a second language) girl." Is it racism or idiocy?

Is that your final answer?

Question number three: This is a visual clue:

Is it racism or idiocy?

Is that your final answer?

You win.... and Johnny, tell them what they have won.
You have won a lifetime of confusion and insecurity about every move that you make, wondering if you, YES YOU, are a closet racist or at least viewed that way by everyone around you.

Ok......seriously, let's talk. All these things really happened. I am white......very white. My wife calls me milk sometimes to make fun of me, that is how white. My wife on the other hand is a relatively dark skinned south-American. (I call her "cow" to get back at her for calling me milk) I am pretty slow to claim racism, because I think racism is very serious, and I think that people are more selfish idiots than racists (I try to think the best of people). I personally feel that racism is used a little too much as an accusation for the cause of idiotic and rude behavior. The guy at the restaurant was just him being an inconsiderate jerk (I think). The teacher that referred to my wife only as "the ESL girl" was racist (there are more examples of her being blatantly racist, but that is the most obvious), and I think that the picture is just flat out hilarious. For those of you like me, who know nothing about basketball, the picture may seem very racist: A white guy in the middle of, and on a pedestal above four black guys. The guy in the middle is Kevin Nash, or Steve Nash, I don't know which one. I know that one is a professional basketball player and the other is a professional wrestler, but not sure which is which. Steve/Kevin Nash is also dressed in a different uniform. He is wearing all white as the other players are dressed in orange (jail jumpsuit colors). Ok, so they are the Phoenix Suns' colors, but still.
The point is..... one can find racism anywhere, but it's not real, unless it was really intended. Some people are jerks, some are real racists, and some are just clueless.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Bad......very bad

THERE! Better. I hated coming to my blog because that girl from the Exorcist was staring at me every time I logged on. She stole my inspiration (and my soul) every time I looked at her. This should help.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Complete and total, unabated FEAR

Today I am going to talk about fear. I love terrible horror movies. I recently watched "Zombies Vs. Vampires." (just to give you a taste of the garbage that I will watch) There are very few movies that have really scared me. Here is the list:
1) The Exorcist (the scene in which she climbs down the stairs backwards still haunts me)
2) Poltergeist (clowns are evil and they always will be)
3) Event Horizon (a little known sci-fi movie that was creepy enough to make my list)
4) The Blair Witch Project (my parents always took us camping growing up so this one hit particularly close to home.)
I think that's pretty much it. The new breed or Japanese horror films like "The Ring" and "The Grudge" is creepy, but easily forgotten. (by the way, my list is in no particular order)

Those movies have genuinely scared me, but it's not just movies that scare me, it's also certain things that you may not expect..... or understand.
I have an overwhelming fear of checking my phone messages. I generally let 10 or more messages accumulate on my cell phone over a week or so before I will finally check my messages, quickly deleting the message as soon as I can trick myself into believing that I already know what they are talking about or it is unimportant enough to warrant and immediate deletion. This is a problem because I work on the phone and people call me all the time to get information or to follow up with me. I try to check my messages every day, but sometimes it is just too much for me. I know it's an irrational fear. I never think some axe murderer will crawl through the phone and start chopping away at my inner ear, but I fear that it will be someone cancelling business with me or complaining about me in some way. I fear that they are calling about a mistake that I made that will force me to admit my ignorance in my job and life in general. I (like most people) have an extreme fear of failing, but (unlike most people) my fear of failure is crippling. I am scared to check my grades at school because I might have gotten something lower than an "A."
So, step aside "Exorcist" failure is my biggest fear.

One thing that is a resounding irritation for many people about the 80's slasher films like "Friday the 13th" was that busty teenage camper-girls would just sit there and scream while Jason made a carving project out of them. They wouldn't run, and if they were lucky enough to last until the end of the movie, they would somehow have knocked the monster unconscious (Sure he could take bullets, but if you hit him in the head with a frying pan, he was out for at least 5 minutes. (shhhh... quietly..... he's not dead)). The protagonist then pokes around the body just long enough to let him wake up. While the audience is screaming, "RUN YOU DUMB B**** RUN!!!" she is still in the fetal position in the tub scared to move or do anything. She won't try to kill him, because she will never really try to conquer her fear. She will stare it square in the face and eventually try to run from it. My fear of failure works very much the same way: I have a crippling fear. I am scared to study for a test because if I open a book I might realize how truly unprepared I am and I will fail the test (wow..... on paper that really looks backwards). I don't think with the words that I am using to express my thoughts currently; I justify it with procrastination, but I know that, fear is the real reason. I am crushed by failure. Failure would be worse than death and the disappointment of family and friends would be worse than execution. I would rather die than fail and have to face those that I have failed. There are many more irrational fears that I have, but I have opened myself up to enough criticism for today..... plus I am scared to continue.

Thursday, September 4, 2008


I am feeling a bit Spanish today. I don't know why, just felt the need. I love speaking with spanish people. First of all because they are always so amazed that someone as white as me (like a freaking ghost I tell you) speaks spanish, and speaking fluently makes me feel proud that I speak a second language. Spanish is a beautiful language. One problem with Spanish is that it's not very detailed. The language uses the same word to describe groups of objects without giving finite words to each object within a set group. I wish I had a good example, but I don't, and that is not the purpose of this entry anyway. The purpose is to tell you my favorite Spanish word. While Spanish can be incredibly vague at times, it also contains words that I wish existed in English, like my favorite word, "bagrero" (pronounced bog ray row). This gem literally means, "catfisher," but it's dictionary definition is, "He that makes love to ugly women." That's right.... there is a word for your guy or girl friend that dates someone drastically inferior to their own physical beauty. How in the world would I know this? When I was learning spanish, I read the dictionary...... yes I read the dictionary, not the Spanish-English dictionary, but rather the actual Spanish dictionary. It was tiresome and boring at times, but if nothing else, "bagrero" made it all worth the while.