Profile

I am going to try to add something every single day to my profile, so my readers (what's up, mom and wife?) can learn a little bit about me. Also, if you have any suggestions about how to make my blogs better, please let me know.

Weather Checker

If you have been keeping up with my blog, you can probably tell I have many different idiosyncrasies. One thing that I am obsessed with is checking the weather. I have four different weather apps on my phone, and I never just check one. I always check all four.

I keep all of the places any relative, friend, or wife and I have visited on my list of cities to check. I have intimate knowledge of the weather in Houston, but I do know what’s going on most other places. For example, my buddy and his wife honeymooned near Hawaiian Acres, HI, and I can tell you that it’s mid-80’s high and mid-60’s low right off the top of my head. My wife and I went to Destin, FL, last summer for a wedding and currently their weather is basically the same as Hawaiian Acres but with a 75 low. I check the weather so much that I just have a Jedi-like sense of the temperature. Right now, I have 20 different cities programmed into my phone that I check regularly.


The issue with this is that a normal person doesn’t do this, right? This is more of a Rainman type of thing. Knowing the weather all over America for no reason is like knowing how many Lumpkins’ there are in the phone book. This isn’t just knowledge of useless information. I respect people that can go into a bar, play trivia, and know that Boner from Growing Pains was the son of Chekov from Star Trek. That is awesome information. That information gets you places in life. Knowing that Las Vegas is still pushing 100 degrees in mid-September is useless. Is this the beginning of dementia? I just hit 30 so maybe it’s downhill from here. Next I’ll probably start collecting gnomes and giving them back stories or designing doggy clothes for Sampson and Earl. Come to think of it, I do have some excellent ideas for wizard costumes for them. I found this delightful star and moon fabric at Big Lots! Their catch phrase: “You… shall… not pass… until you give us some steak fat and belly rubs!”

Pregnant Ladies

At work on Friday, I had to go to this lady’s office to pick up some paperwork that I needed. When I walked in, there were two other ladies in the office with her. They were just hanging out and working. Two of them I know pretty well and the other I should know but don’t. Let me preface this by saying that working in a school is weird in that there is quite a bit of turnover. I’ve taught at the same place for 7 years and I am the fourth most senior person in my department of 30 people. I basically only take the trouble of getting to know the people who have either been there for 3 years or more or with whom I directly work. One of the ladies in this office is an ESL (English as a Second Language) specialist whom I work with often. The second lady is the wife of the person I’ve known the longest at work. Her husband and I started our teaching careers at the same time; we work in the same office and are about the same age. I’m close enough to them that I went to some of their wedding festivities. The third lady is – someone. I know I should know her. She’s blonde and tall. She’s the tall, blonde lady. She has really straight teeth, too. I have absolutely no idea what her name is. It could be Jennifer or Shaniqua – both would be a surprise to me.

I try not to use names in my blog but this will get confusing really quickly if I don’t. This is what I will call them: ESL, Friend, and the Blonde Question. ESL is super nice and chatty, though I’m not quite sure what her job entails. All I know is that she is the one who nags me when I need to pick up paperwork. Friend is about 8 months pregnant and very obviously 8 months pregnant. I’m not the chattiest guy in the world. Don’t get me wrong, I can talk with the best of them, but I’m not good at making chit-chat. I don’t know if I have ADD or if I’m just a jerk, but I have trouble focusing on people’s conversations with me. I tend to just look that them and think about one thing (Geez, the dimple in her nose is so defined. It looks like someone jammed their thumbnail into the tip of her nose, etc.). I just shake my head politely and say, uh-huh.

I had this type of conversation with ESL (Geez, her hair is so long. I wonder how long it takes to dry it. Why would you have your hair that long if it’s such a hassle? It’s so black, too. There is no way it’s that black. She must be hiding something, etc.). I turn the conversation to Friend and here is the transcript as far as I remember it – mind you, ESL and Blonde Question are part of this, too.

Me: You’re due soon, huh?

Friend: Yeah, it should be within the next month.

Me: Huh.

Friend: Yeah, Husband and I are… (something or other).

Me (starting to think about how weird it would be to gain 30 lbs in a few months like a preggo)

Me (noticing she finished talking and isn’t looking at me like she asked a question): Do y’all have the nursery set up?

Friend: Yeah, Husband painted this room… (something or other).

ESL: There are so many babies coming so soon. It’s so exciting!

Me (Yeah, at any given time 4 teachers are pregs at my school)

Me (head tilted, eyebrows furrowed inquisitively): Who else besides Friend?

BQ (eyebrows furrowed like you idiot): I’m pregnant too.
Me (blindly stupid): No way. When are you due?

BQ: Any day now.

Me (bobbing my head, hands in my pockets, twisting my foot around): Ah. Well that’s awesome.

Is that really insulting that I didn’t know this lady was pregnant? She is a really tall lady (like 5’10”!); it’s more spread out through her body. The baby was laying long ways too I bet! I feel bad about this, and hopefully, she just thinks I am idiot and nothing about herself.

P.S. I was listening to Ratatat, DeadMau5, and Muddy Waters while writing this. Very strange mood.

Sicky

I am sick. I get sick every year around this time, and every time I get sick, I think it’s allergies. I’m not sure what it feels like to have allergies because I never had problems with them as a kid. It’s sort of a new thing to me, so I just confuse it with a cold or flu. This problem is actually just one example of a much bigger problem. I’m not very good at distinguishing problems with my body – even simple ones.

It happens all the time that I confuse hunger and thirst. I feel my stomach growl and assume the problem is hunger. I mean, it’s me, right? The first step is to find some food that is more than I want to eat. I’ve heard that it takes the human body a bit of time to realize it’s full, so I eat a whole bunch because I figure that the more I eat the faster this process will be. After a pound of almonds or a cup of hummus, I realize that I’m not hungry. Ah ha! I must be thirsty. This means I need to drink a few Coke Zeros. I feel like the carbonation really helps the liquid spread through my body more effectively. The bubbles make it flow up to my head, right? My head needs water, too. No, seriously, I’ve had nothing but milk and Gatorade today. I read somewhere once that milk is a great thing to drink for a hangover because it hydrates your body quickly – being sick seems like a good time to drink milk then.

I also haven’t really had anything to eat today. I ordered a pizza but only ate 2 slices – all day! That’s always the hidden benefit of being sick; it’s an automatic 5 lbs off. That means whenever I get healthy again, I can go eat whatever I want. I deserve it, right? It’s a shame because I was gung-ho about going to the gym this week. Now, it’s all for naught.

Well, on the bright side, I did sleep for at least 12 hours today and took two baths – though baths are gross. I don’t even understand how they work. How do you wash your nether regions or just the body parts that are underwater? It just doesn’t make sense. As soon as I rub the soap bar on my body, the soapy film just floats up. To further compound the problem, I’m a fairly big guy, and if I lay flat on my back in our tub, it’s only the length of my shoulders to my knees. This morning I was promptly reminded when I took a bath how tight of a squeeze the tub is for me, but I heroically tried to wash thoroughly (By the way, this is absolutely necessary because I sweat quite a bit when I sleep on a normal night, so imagine when I’m sick). I did a belly up, face plant London Bridge type of thing, so I could get my belly and thighs. Then the true feat was an upside down London Bridge – a Superman, I believe it’s called. It didn’t work – quickly. The only place that got clean was my face, and even that is questionable. I imagine there is a layer of dry soap all over my body, and the shampoo I used is just clumped up in my hair. As you can imagine, it didn’t work out too well. I’ve got a few new aches and pains too.

As you can tell, I don’t have anything funny to say. I’m sick. Sick people are supposed to be serious. I’m going to play Starcraft until it’s bed time and get SERIOUS on some Zerg. By the way, my wife is out of town again, so not only am I sick, I’m paranoid. How’s this supposed to work? I can barely keep my bloodshot eyes open to watch TV, and I’m supposed to keep one of them open for male rapists! Also, Meet the Browns is on TV in the other room. It’s going to be a long night.

Kinky Party

I was chatting with my sister-in-law about ways to get strangers to read my blog. She said a good way was to have linky parties, amongst many other great ideas. I typed in linky party before I really knew what it was. I thought, I'm a smart enough guy. I can figure it out. Using my iPhone, I typed it into the Google search bar and low and behold a bunch of party listings popped up. I clicked on the first one and it was a blog called “Richard and Anne: Master and Slave.” Needless to say, this was not a link to a blogging party thing; it was a link to some couple’s nudy, weirdo blog site. As soon as I saw a picture of nudy Richard’s behind while he was frying some eggs, I realized this isn’t what my sister-in-law was talking about. It’s a good thing I never contacted anyone about this. My phone would have auto-corrected and I’d have to buy a gallon of mayonnaise and a monkey costume.

Weight Control Problem (Part II)

One of the main issues I have with this weight control problem is that I’m really impulsive, almost out of control impulsive. If I want something, I have to have it now... and two of it! I don’t really think about the consequences. Now, obviously this is referring to run-of-the-mill, everyday activities – not criminal activities. I don’t think, hmmm, I want some money. Let me get my gun and go to the bank. It’s more like, gummy bears sound good. I think I’ll get this tub, or I need a new shirt; these three will do. In the moment, anything can sound like a good idea. As you can imagine, this gets me in a small amount of trouble quite often.

Today, I had some time off during work and I went to Subway. Yes, the same Subway that over served mayonnaise to me. I was going to be assertive and specific and tell her I only wanted 4 lines of mayo (Subway, we have to end this petty little tiff!). By the way, if you don’t get what I mean when I say lines, I’m referring to the squirt bottles of condiments they use. They just squeeze and run it from side to side making lines. I pulled up to the Subway and I had money to buy a foot long, Italian sub for me (changing it up, baby!) and a meatball sub for my friend. As I was getting out of the car, I noticed a lady sitting inside of the donut shop next door eating her breakfast. I hesitated to get out of the car because I wanted to hear the sports radio guy’s opinion about the Texans, and I looked up and coincidentally met the lady’s eyes for a second longer than I should have – a second longer than society’s universally accepted contract allows. She knows me now.

I went in to order my food, and the whole time my thoughts were pulsating: Get donut holes. Get donut holes. As I am ordering food, all I can think about is buying donut holes. My Italian sub will be good but the donut holes would be even better. I hastily went through the line forgetting to give her directions about the extra mayonnaise. She didn’t give me 6 lines like last time, but she did hold it and squeeze for far too long. When she first started putting the mayo on my sandwich, she must have gotten shocked by something or had a mini-stroke because she squeezed and didn’t let go; she made a puddle of mayo the size of a Coke can top. I gagged when I ate it later. One day, I’ll learn.

I got my food, walked out of the Subway, and put the sandwiches, drinks, and chips in my car (I got the combo in case you were wondering). Then, I stood up, faced the donut shop, and calmly walked in pretending like I didn’t just buy food from Subway. The lady was still there and our eyes met again and a second too long this time too. I saw that a dozen donut holes were only $2. I always feel bad when I purchase items at a mom and pop place like that and spend $2. How are they going to put their kids through college? I ordered 2 kolaches to make it a bigger purchase. I was outwitting everyone there, I thought. I smugly paid for my items, began my walk out, and made eye contact with the lady again. I paused for a second and muttered to her, “These aren’t just for me.”

I started my 3 minute drive back to work and ate half of the donut holes and both kolaches before I got to work. I offered them to some of the people I eat lunch with and no one wanted one. I guess they were just for me.

Man vs. Pugs

My dogs have been plotting against me for a couple of years now. Let me start by saying they are the two cutest dogs in the world, and if I were to have my soul sucked out while I sleep in the middle of the night, I’d want it to be by them.

Allow me to introduce my dogs. We adopted both of them from an organization called Pug Hearts. It’s a fantastic group that saves pugs and puts them up for adoption. These dogs come from all sorts of unfortunate backgrounds. Quite a few have been abused in some heinous ways, and others have suffered from neglect. I don’t want to give you too much of a sob story here, but luckily, Sampson was a puppy when we adopted him and didn’t suffer too many hardships. Earl, on the other hand, had a broken leg and heartworms before we adopted him. He wasn’t too fond of people as you might suspect.

 As you can tell, I’m an animal lover and to a fault at that. I pick up cockroaches in napkins and put them outside. I would never hunt or fish. I used to tell my friends that if I had a man in one corner with a knife coming to kill me because he was a serial killer and a wolf in the other corner coming to maul me and I had a gun, I’d no question kill the man. I’d obviously never kill anything or anyone, but you get the point.

Back to the point, don’t feel bad for my dogs because you shouldn’t. These dogs might as well be kings. They run our lives. We give them everything and they live a very cushy, envy-inspiring life. We have a painting of Sampson in our house, for God’s sake!

Here is Sampson. He is a cutie pie but not really a pug. He’s taut and tall.

Here is Earl. He’s more of a traditional pug. He’s kind of chubby and is the clown of the dog world.

Now you feel sorry for them and know how cute they are. Here’s the deal: they are plotting against me. I am the alpha dog, and they know it. I put them on their backs constantly and feed them. They know what’s up. I’m the president; Sampson is the vice president; Earl is the secretary of state; my wife is the working class (Ha ha, just joking).

Sampson is neurotic and becomes obsessive about toys or other things that might be under the couch. He’ll stand by the couch and paw at the upholstery (yeah! Got that word after four tries). The other day Sampson was pawing at the couch. I was watching Pardon the Interruption.

Tony Kornheiser: Tim Tebow can’t…

Sampson: scratch, scratch, scratch

Michael Wilbon: Yeah, but he’s the golden…

Sampson: Scratch, scratch, scratch….

Me: Ok! You win! Geez.

I have to lay flat on my tummy to look under the couch because I’m too big to just squat down. As I’m looking under the couch, I see there is nothing there. As soon as I notice this, I feel a little doggy arm overlap my arm. I look over and Sampson’s face is 3 inches from mine. I feel another little doggy arm touch my other arm, and I look over. Earl is 3 inches from my face. He sneezes. He gets doggy snot all up in my grill. They planned this. They knew how to get me on their level, and they took it to me. They’re starting the coup by humiliating me.

I’m a tad worried. We’ve been leaving them out during the day and trying to get away from kennel training. I suspect they are planning.

Sampson: When the fat one gets home, he’ll eat something.

Earl: Yeah, something we can’t have.

Sampson: Yeah.

Sampson: We need to let him know he can’t just sit around here spending all the time with the working class (read above!) and eating all the cheesecake.

Earl: Yeah, I want some cheesecake, too.

Dogs: Whispering…

One of them poops on the floor while laughing egomaniacally.

This is a growing concern in my household. Growing. Like a tree!

 (Evil looking, huh?)

(There is much more on this and I’ll address it later. This is just a taste of their monkeyshines.)