Dogs

My parents have just about got all the kids out of the house. We have been replaced by dogs. I don't doubt that the dogs are more well behaved than we ever were...

You know the great irony of the picture above? The golden retriever in the middle isn't even our dog. She belongs to the neighbors, but has taken to sitting on the bench with my folks.

The Best Worst Date Ever!

I was at a party the other night listening to a woman my own age describing what is perhaps the worst date of which I have ever heard. It had everything: lack of manners, inappropriate comments, disgusting revelations, and the whole gamut of deplorable behaviors sometimes exhibited by my gender. I was honestly appalled that anything like that could happen. While I'd love to recount the experience, I certainly wouldn't do it justice, and I don't think I could finish this post before I collapsed into fits of laughter.

So instead, I can describe the worst date to which I have every subjected anyone...

I had been eyeing this girl most of the summer. In retrospect, my advances were CLEARLY unrequited, but I was blissfully oblivious. So, in August, I asked her out, and planned, in great detail, an evening to remember. The date even coincided with my 24th birthday.

Hence begins an infamous evening. First off, I arrived at the door with flowers (yes, a bit much for a first date, I know.) We then took off to this wonderful little Italian bistro recommended to me. As we approached the intersection nearest the restaurant, my wonderfully vintage 1985 Mercedes (eg., old) began to sputter and lurch unexpectedly, dying at the stop light. I said a quick prayer, willing my car to NOT die on this evening of all evenings. The car started back up, but as I begin the turn into the parking lot, it gave up again, this time entirely.

Clearly flustered and baffled, the date and I did a "Chinese fire drill", where she ended up in the driver's seat, and I ended up in the back, pushing. Outfitted in my finest "smart casual" clothing I strained against the weight of 2 tons of German over-engineering as she guided the car about 50 yards, past the restaurant, to the parking lot in the rear. Sounds embarrassing, doesn't it? Well, now consider that the restaurant offered wide expanse of cozy patio seating, and I was actually pushing my vintage car past about 20 diners in various stages of dinner.

I was determined to not let the car troubles ruin the evening; we went into the restaurant and had a relatively enjoyable meal with the typical level of awkward first date conversation. Throughout dinner, I had been praying that the car would start working again, and my prayers were answered about an hour later. At this point, you might think that I would take the hint that the night was not to be, but instead, I a soldiered on with post dinner plans. What I didn't count on, though, was that my car would again die, about 3 blocks from my house, in the busiest intersection of my college town.

This time, three guys took sympathy on me rushed into the street to push my car into a nearby parking lot. Finally resigning my car to its non-functioning state, I searched the car frantically for my cell phone, but then remembered that I hadn't brought it! I had been so petrified of committing that most grievous of date sins by using my cell phone, that I had left it at home. (Yes, this was a moment of brilliance on my part.) So, we went into Ruby Tuesday's where I explained that no, I didn't need a table, just to use their phone.

I called my apartment. My roommate came and picked us up (thank goodness he was home!) We drove back to her house, me in the back, and her in the passenger seat. At this point, I think she took pity on me, because she volunteered to go back to my place and watch a movie. So, we sat, and watched, on two separate sides of the couch, Ocean's 11. I definitely was not channeling the rat pack that night. At the end of the movie, I walked her down to her car where we shared an awkward hug. And, despite it all, despite the fact that fate had clearly spoken ... I asked if I could see her again.

No spoilers here!

So, I just finished the latest Harry Potter book. Yes, I know it's 6:00 am on Friday morning. Yes, I have been up all night reading. I delayed as long as I could, but on Wednesday, when I walked into Sam's club and saw pallets and pallets of the books, I impulsively threw one into my cart. Then, that night, at about 11:00, I started to read -- and was so engrossed that I just didn't feel sleepy. So, I read through the night, went to work, came home, and picked the book up again around 8 hours ago. (About 50 pages an hour, I guess.)

I have to admit that my insatiable desire to finished the book was not fueled so much by it's shear literary value, but because I simply had to know what was going to happen. Now, don't take that to mean that I don't enjoy the novels on their face, but they are children/young adult books, after all. I find myself so enamored with the completeness and creativity of the world created by Rowling. And, her message is frequently quite pertinent: "Those who are best suited to power are those that have never sought it."

Now, I'm going to bed.

Wooter's Remorse

Do you Woot? I woot. A lot.

In case you weren't aware, woot is a website that sells one item per day, every day. Every midnight (PST), a new item is listed for sale. When that item sells out, there's nothing to buy until the next day at midnight. You're thinking to yourself, what's the point of that? Well, the items are usually heavily discounted, frequently some piece of technology, and everything ships for $5.00, even 200 pound HDTVs. It's an ingenious scheme on so many levels; from the pithy and hilarious product descriptions, to the weekly Photoshop contest.

Frankly, I don't know why I'm drawn to it, but I'm an addict. I'm conditioned so that every night at 11:00 pm (I'm in MST) , I feel this need to go online and check tonight's Woot. Frequently, items will sell out in a matter of seconds, while some crap never does. Because you never know what tonight's woot will be, and if it will be in high demand, you feel compelled to be right there at the computer, clicking refresh until the next tantalizing item is listed.

I really shouldn't like woot. It promotes, and is even modeled on, everything I hate about consumerism. They count on our appetite for the latest and greatest gadgets, and they rely on the fact that most people will buy something they really don't need as long as it's cheap enough and there's a pretense of scarcity.

As a result of my bizzare woot compulsion, I am also frequently a victim of wooter's remorse. This happens after you buy a woot, and you realize that you don't really need, want, or have room for whatever the thing is.

Of the 20 item's I've bought from woot in the last 2 years, here are some of the worst:

Yes, I actually bought three of these things. It's called a leak frog. I grew up in a house where interior flooding always seemed imminent due to bitterly cold winters, malfunctioning toilets, or overflowing water softeners. It never occurred to me that these conditions weren't universal to all homes, but that we were the victim of DIY plumbing. Plus, the red eyes just look creepy.

I bought one of these things on the left. It's a combination vacuum mop thingy. I hate mopping because of the time it takes to do it right. This gadget did not help. It mostly squirts watery floor cleaner about.

I bought 2 pair of these headphones. I honestly thought that I didn't care that much about color, I just wanted some behind the ear headphones. Well, it turns out I do care about color. Lime green is just not a suitable color for most things. These headphones scream "Star Trek Nerd" in a place where you might just see a spandex wearing hottie.

So, this is really a partial list. I probably didn't really need half of the stuff I've bought on Woot.
And my latest woot? A GPS for the car. I get lost ALL the time, so this should be a good purchase.

Fortunes

This was my fortune from the local Chinese place a few days ago when we went out to lunch. I'm ashamed to admit it, but it excited me a little. (As the only single guy in the office, it also got a lot of laughs.)

It also made me think of how eager we are for some sense of fortune in our lives. Disregarding the obvious religious implications, I think that we want to believe that we're a cog in a larger machine, working towards something amazing as part of a master plan. I think that's why we're so enamored by fortunes and horoscopes, because we want them to be true; we're enamored by kismet and karma.

It may seem utterly preposterous to give more than a seconds' thought to something like this fortune, but I'll freely admit that I did. And I don't think it's a bad thing at all, because everyone sees in their fortune what it is that they want to see -- the things they most want out of life, and the fortune can give them hope, which may just be the catalyst that they need to get to work. That's really what it's all about, I think, our sense of fortune helps us keep motivated, so that we're ready whenever our ship decides to come in.