What Have You Done For Me Lately?

Four days? I know The regularity of entries that I've been building upon all summer is teetering on the brink of extinction. Classes started up again for me this week. And when I'm not looking for excellent parking spaces I still work 30 hours a week. Other than that there really has been nothing exciting to mention this week.

But seriously, finding good parking spaces is quite the skill. However since it's only Cortland, it's like being the best fisherman in a small pond. Maybe I'll advance to the regional playoffs and have to find parking spaces in larger cities like Syracuse, and then I'll move onto the state championship and try to find parking in New York City.

Back In Black

I wasn't going to let this keep me down forever. I beat the sickness. On Saturday night I still had a temperature of 102. I was convinced I wasn't going to get better when I really needed to. After all I did have to work today, I have no sick days left. I, the diligent worker who only used 4 sick days in his first four years have used 4 already just in my fifth year. So I drank a gallon of water in less than four hours time and basically sat there bundled up and sweat it out. Whether it's the best method or not, who knows. I'm not a doctor, and I don't play one on TV. All I know is that by 11:00 last night I was back at good ol' 98.6 and have maintained it ever since.

Do you know how hard it is to convince yourself to get better so you can go back to work? Normally I would just want to stay home and watch movies but after three days in this place I was clawing at the walls. I'm an impatient invalid. It was nice to reenter the world.

Feeding a Fever

Yes, it's true. Starve a cold. I'm not sure how you starve it but you do. However I've been stricken with a fever for over 48 hours and I'm feeding it to death. Not literally, because any actual food wouldn't appeal to me right now. I haven't had a meal in days, and I don't think I'm capable of keeping one. In reality I'm bundled up and sweating this thing out, I'm just ready for this to go away. I've been working hard at it though. I've got it down from 102 degrees to 99.8 in the last two hours.

It's a work in progress.

I'll update my progress, because this is important you know.

Hey 98.6, It would be nice if you came back again.

I apologize for the lack of updates, I've been sick for the last few days with a fever. Once this fever goes down I will have a bit more energy to write here. So far the most I can do is walk from my bed to the bathroom and back again.

It has caused some bizarre hallucinations though, those have been quite nice.

That's all for now, I have to muster up the energy to swallow water.

They Call It Career Day

I was tapped to attend Price Chopper's career day.

Don't laugh, it is a rather prestigious deal.

As much as I'm supposed to take things seriously career day makes me think of 8th graders sitting in a classroom as selected parents take turns telling you why you should grow up to sell insurance. Today was different, this is the big leagues. Hotel conference rooms and travel compensation. I have arrived. I just wish had remembered a brief case, you know for swag.

The swag is what made the day, I now have a Ramada Inn pen, and a Price Chopper career day pen. You know you're moving up when you're provided with two free pens just from one meeting. I also have a Ramada water bottle, I drank half of it before I realized I had not read where it came from. My mind feared that it was from the toilets that were "sanitized for your protection," my fears were lessened when I found out it was from a place called "Aqua Valley." At least it's not from the Islands of Fiji. Everybody these days seems to think they can only get their water from an island 10,000 miles away.

While I learned valuable skills about advancement through the exciting world of supermarkets, I also won a free miniature radio because my team came in second in a 4 way tie in Jeopardy! The late Merv Griffin would be proud.

Today's tally:

* Amount of free swag: 2 pens, 1 radio, some candy (already eaten)
* Number of breaks taken, 6. These HR people know how much supermarket employees love standing and cigarettes
* One "Simpsons" arcade game. It was bowling, woo!

Oh yeah I was paid for the whole experience.

Well I'm going to enjoy water, it was bottled from the Islands of Ramada Inn.

What Goes Around Comes Around

There's always something going around. It's the "It" that come from the infamous "them."

So not only do "they" predict higher gas prices "they" also spread "it."

As for how things go around, are plague spreading rats still the preferred method?

So today I've been home sick with "it." Whatever "it" was, my head felt like it weighed 100 lbs when my body hardly felt strong enough to lift a pencil. The best I could do today was sleep. For my second nap I slept for over three hours and woke up around 10 PM. I have a bad feeling I'll be awake when the sun comes up.

I wish "they" would come take "it" away.

It's a Nice Day For a White Wedding

I don't go to a lot of weddings, it could be that most of my friends are still unmarried, or maybe I just don't like going to them. Counting today, the number of weddings I've been to as an adult is 4. That also counts the one I was in. Weddings aren't that bad, they're just odd ordeals, and each one is different. Today we stood, then sat, then we stood, then we sat some more. I like sitting, it's very refreshing. I was just confused on when to do it. Even the bridal party got to sit, everybody. I turn to my friend Walter and go "do you know what's going on?" I was jealous that everybody got to sit. The one wedding I have been in up to this point was outdoors and I had to stand the entire time. When you do that you have to worry about knees locking and such, so when some friends of mine who were in today's wedding party complained about standing I shrugged in disbelief because they got to sit a lot, and yeah I'm not going to hide it, I was jealous.

However it was a good ceremony, and I do like sitting.

And then there's the exit, exiting a wedding is exactly like exiting an aircraft. You grab your things and you wait as everybody files out very slowly. Plus instead of the pilots saying good bye you get to congratulate the newly married. That really is the only similarity between churches and airplanes.

They gave us bubbles for the recession. If you throw rice PETA will come after you, and nobody likes to see a wedding party covered in red paint. Not even at a conceptual artist's wedding.

I wanted to wear my gray suit to the wedding today, but apparently I don't carry the same physique I did in eleventh grade when I last put it on. However I did bring my classy vintage fedora (That's a hat for those keeping score at home).

At the reception I was unsurprisingly seated with people that work at the store. Which is fine for the first ten seconds, then you realize the only thing you have in common is the store you work in and all conversations turn to that ten for ten sale. I do enjoy the people I work with, but I work six days a week and on that one day off I enjoy a respite. A respite really wasn't what I was getting at the table. But soon the alcohol conquered our spirits and we still talked about work, but with a bit more jolly.

I've been to four weddings but this was my very first open bar. There's two ways you can treat an open bar, you can go crazy like you're on spring break or you can treat it with some class. I opted for class. I sipped drinks like it was 1962. Sipping a dry Manhattan in a fedora hardly matched the behavior of my table mates, so I made my rounds of the room. Luckily I did have several other friends there, ones fated with more amusing tables.

Despite the vast flow of free alcohol I think everybody behaved themselves better than expected. I’m pleased to say I didn’t embarrass myself.

So that was the fourth wedding I’ve been to as an adult, I assume I’ll be going to more as my friends and I all advance through life. But remember, Rice is murder.

Buy a CD, Rent a Car

See the world.

The compact disk is 25 years old today. 25 is the last step in the right of passages, the car rental step. At this point you can already drive a car, see R rated movies, vote, smoke, drink and order things of television. The CD can now do all of these.

Let's see an iPod do that. They're still in the finger painting stage, just past potty training.

I tend to personify things a bit too much. Just ask Typy, my keyboard.

The Cane Mutiny

Most days I do despise my employment but that's not to say that I don't have fun.

Our store is blessed with a multitude of electric carts, you know they're like wheel chairs but without that slow boring stigma. One of the noble duties of the grocery store employee is yelling at the people who ride those carts around undeservedly. Those fun loving individuals who shouldn't make light of other's handicaps by taking their sweet rides.

Tonight a fellow got on one and repeatedly drove it back and forth around the entrance. I spied on this through the bottle return window at the service desk and then I told him he needed to get off the vehicle. The fact that I'm doing this is scary within itself, it's like I was turning into a curmudgeonly old man right before my eyes.

"But what if I'm handicapped? I need this" said the man on the electric cart as he got up and walked toward my window. I told him that he was doing a poor job of defending his case as he walked toward me just fine, not at all demonstrating any signs of a person in need of such mechanical assistance. "Well if you can come back and prove you are in a condition to need that vehicle then I can let you use it," I said. I told him to come back with a cane, or some crutches.

To demonstrate I held up a cane from the store's lost and found (you'd be suprised how many people leave canes behind). "Let me have that one" he said. I replied "no, this one is mine." I then implored him to seek his own cane, and if he returned with it he could then ride the electric cart.

I then wondered how he would even get a cane, I tried not to think of it. What kind of evil scavenger hunt have I encouraged?

That and the Other Thing

I want to be able to write something everyday but sometimes that just can't happen. I don't want to run out of ideas. I only want to be hit by the creativity truck, not run over by it. A true near miss. A near miss seems oximoronical to me, because a near miss is almost always classified as a good thing. Like "Holy crap, are you okay? That was a near miss!" If I almost got hit by a bus it would nearly hit me. If it nearly missed me it would be a much less desirable situation.

I have nowhere to go with this, it's like a free, unplanned tour of my mind.

That's right, I said free. So please do not beg for any money back.

The _ Circles of Hell

Dante said there was nine circles of hell and on most days I tend to agree with him.

I worked the registers today. A mother and a teenage son came through, while she was sorting through coupons and writing her check she had her son bag the groceries. Despite what they say, there is no art to bagging groceries. The best you can do is package things together to avoid a nasty mess. At any rate this kid was failing badly. Bagging is a common sense job, that's why anybody can do it even if that's all you can do. Well upon packing some fifteen items into twenty seven bags he exclaims that there was no reason for him having to do that. His mother replied by telling him that he should learn, it might be his job someday. He responded by saying that he never was going to work in a grocery store.

"Not so fast," I said. At this moment I unwittingly got up onto my soapbox and started theorizing. Nobody ever intends to work in a grocery store. It's more of a passage through life. No wait, that's putting it nicely. It's a necessary passage through your own personal hell.

I guess Dante would call it one of the nine circles of hell. Had he lived to see modern day society anyway. It's something you wander into, but out of necessity, not like wandering into a park. You know that lovely stage of life when you need something to keep you from dangling over the edge of poverty. Well not to overdramatize or ramble on but the grocery store represents the "menial jobs" circle of hell. You know the circle of hell that follows the circle of hell known as high school.

That's two circles of hell right there. I'm young yet, I have no idea what the other seven are. They probably have something to do with getting a 9 to 5 job, or retiring and playing bingo. I know that would surely be hell for me.

Then I stepped back off of the soapbox and the world started running again.

Like a Japanese Racehorse

One thing I've noticed today is how lazy people are getting at parking their cars. This really doesn't have anything to do with my life at all but I'm a bit bothered that people are getting even more lackadaisical behind the wheel. I could understand a bad parking job if your car is on fire or if you see somebody handing out free quasadillas. However if all your doing is going to the bank or the dentist I don't really see why you need to park your car diagonally taking up 5 spaces. God demanded yellow lines for a reason. I think it's in Exodus somewhere. Somewhere my parents are shaking their heads wondering just how much money they spent sending me to religious schools when I don't even know what I'm talking about half the time and look dumbfounded when I'm asked biblical questions. Honestly that really thick book can be a tough read. But really all I want is a just God that demands respect for the rules of the road.

Okay I need to get back on track, and I don't want to scare myself. I have a feeling if I take the above ideas a little further I'd be waking up in a pit of fire and brimstone somewhere. People have connections. Republicans are in the White House you know.

Brushes sweat from brow. Damn you fingers on keyboard always getting me in trouble...

I finally made my way to see the Simpsons movie tonight. The move I've probably been waiting since kindergarten to see. Well no, that's not entirely true. In kindergarten I watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade six times. On betamax. I've been waiting to see this movie since they announced it last year, so that's somewhat of a buildup. So the movie didn't let down at all, it was great to see all these familiar characters on the large screen. However the screen itself was really something to marvel at. I saw it at the new movie theater at the mall. Maybe it's not new, maybe it's been around for a couple months but wow that theater was great. I almost didn't mind when they charged me $9.50 for admission. I was mesmerized by neon lights and new carpet.

I bought a soda for the movie, it only cost a shade under $6 but it came with free refills. That really doesn't say much, the sodas are so huge that getting free refills is about as necessary as buy one get one free bypass surgeries. Which is coincidental because after drinking the enormous sodas any doctor would recommend you for one. That and some various organ transplants. My soda was about 66 ounces, if you're not familiar that's just a bit over a half gallon. I mean it was only fifty cents more and twice the volume of the medium.

All this was hunky dory or so it seemed until about halfway home from the movie theater. I saw the movie in Ithaca, which in locational proportion from my current residence is somewhat like driving from here to Greenland, except in the direction that isn't Greenland's. So about halfway home from this long journey I was feeling that 66 ouncer, very badly. My bladder felt like it had ballooned to the size of a watermelon. The sad thing is that nothing is really open at 12:30 in the morning. Other than the bars, their bathrooms are always full. Plus if you go in there sober, it's either sickening or depressing. Usually it's both.

So here I am, a half gallon of coca-cola swimming through my body, and no place to go as I feel like a ticking time bomb. Even gas stations don't seem to have bathrooms these days. Maybe people kept running off with those enormous keychains. You know, the ones made from 18th century driftwood. Well finally I made it to the all night Dunkin Donuts by the interstate. Of course that means it's frequented by the interstate highway regulars. That doesn't even include the drunks that show up after midnight. They can be much stranger than the ones that are there at 4 in the afternoon. So I ran into the bathroom and kicked the homeless people out of the way and finally found my bladder freedom.

Once I was done I realized I was only a mile from home. If the soda had conquered my body a little more slowly I might have made it.

I'll never drink soda out of a cup the size of a garbage can again.

Oh What a Night

Last night I visited a shopping mall, much to my dismay I do that a bit to often. But I had fun, I swear.

Jeff was there, Noel was there, and Nate and Nate's girlfriend were there. Now these are people that I haven't seen in ages, and I hadn't seen Nate's girlfriend ever. It was nice in that regard, Jeff, Nate and I acted like high school. Except it was more dangerous because we don't have to be home by 11.

I'm not much for malls, when I actually have to shop I shop like guerilla style. I run into the store, grab the item I desire to purchase, run to the register, pay the allotted fee and then getting the hell out of there. However in the company of friends it is all different.

If you notice, when you're with a group of friends and you get into an elevator it's as if all your years of maturity erase before your very eyes. It's like you're all six again. Well we all pile into the elevator and push every button and some how end up in the basement. After about 4 tries of hitting the "6" button we finally arrived at the "sixth" floor. I say this because the elevator had buttons marked "C,""1,""2,""3,""5," and "6." So we arrived at "6" or four or D or whatever it would logically be, the doors opened and nothing actually happened. We saw a burly security guard at a desk and we all hit the door close button as hard as we could. See what I mean about elevators erasing all forms of maturity?

The night was full of things like that, it really proves the theory that in public I probably need a chaperon. Shows what good college has done for me.

You haven't lived until you've seen at least one of your friends humiliate humanity as a whole on "Dance Dance Revolution."

For some reason spell check does not like the names of any of my friends, I should never have asked it's opinion. Yes, I hate to shatter that illusion but I do use spell check.

If it's a blog this must be Tuesday

So is it really a blog? For real?

I always hated that blogging stigma, that I'm some uber nerd wearing Weezer glasses and using a clever mousepad. Truth is I wear absolutely no corrective lenses and the mousepad says "Dell" and that's not be clever, it came with the computer.

But since the definition of a blog is an online diary, a personal chronological log of thoughts published on a web page it pretty much has me to a T. That really is sort of humbling as I really can't stand to be categorized.

This has been a pretty slow week. Words almost fail me.

I haven't intended for this week's posts to be shorter than albino midgets. However that was an insensitive remark, I have no idea if albino midgets are shorter than other midgets. I have a suspicion that if midgets could have their own midgets they'd be the shortest.

Wow I can ramble like none other.

Down On the Upside

Lately I've been trying to look at all the upsides of me not moving. Yeah there's things like saving more money and mooching food from the kitchen. Simple stuff. One of the big upsides was that my mom bought me my own dresser for my own place. A pretty good deal in my opinion. Today the top drawer broke spilling it's contents into the drawer below. Not the worst thing ever but damn, even my dresser seems out to get me.

And so, a new week begins.

I did originally intend this post to be funnier than "Schindler's List."

I've said that before you say?

Bonfire of the Manatees

It had been 2005 since we had done this. The amount of time that passes in the interim almost makes our previous bonfires mythic. So yeah, that's what I'm building up to, we had a bonfire. It's not like the 8 or 10 other bonfires I've been to in the last two years. Those almost always involve less fire and even less laughter. Well I don't want to suggest that other bonfires are as funny as Schindler's List, but these ones like the one last night are more special.

To give some examples in the past we've nearly lost eyebrows, we've shot the hood of my car with a BB gun, taken walks through a 180 year old cemetery, put glow sticks in beer bottles and throw them into walls, Drew kicking a couch apart Rick James style, and watching me accidentally hit another car. I didn't even get into the fiery explosions in very much detail.

And then there was last night.

This bonfire was nearly two years in the making. It's not that we can never get together, it's just remarkably hard to get that much firewood.

Last night's was big. A new charcoal grill was brought in for the event. It took four people one hour to assemble. Even when they flipped the instructions over and read them in English. I took a picture too, but due to some confusion the picture is bound to forever be in the confines of my cell phone.

The grill worked, at least to the best of my knowledge. I was waiting for hamburgers, we put them on last. Word to the wise, if you're having a barbecue and there is beer and the people cooking are drinking the beer the food that gets put on last will never be edible. However Drew, I won't judge. The gigantic patty would have tasted incredible if it had never shrunk down into nothing.

Every party has it's oddball, last night we had the strangest of them all. This crusty old guy kept bringing us firewood. While we were gracious enough, he seemed to be partying on a level all his own, a level nobody would be able to catch up with. He arrived with his firewood and stumbled out of the truck beer in hand. Rednecks scare me and he'd be a 10 on the redneck scale. A crusty Vietnam vet drunk out of his mind, my uneasiness really speaks for itself here. Eventually he passed out in some ghostly fashion and I'm led to assume he's still there.

We had fireworks but I nearly forgot to mention why, Chuck and Colleen got engaged. I'm not sure if they meant to steal the show but it certainly led people to forget that I brought a third of the beer. I'm just kidding, I'm quite happy for them. The town supervisor came out and put a stop to our fireworks, but while it lasted it was a great two minute show.

I decided I didn't want the title to make any sense.

Dark Side of the Lucy

Is it appropriate to listen to Prince's "1999" while watching "I Love Lucy?"

After all it's a song about partying like it's 1999, it feels odd to hear it while watching a show whose principle cast didn't even live to see such a year.

This brings me to the newest of my bizarre habits, watching episodes of Lucy on TV Land every morning while listening to music that doesn't fit it at all. Or does it? Surely this show predates nearly all of the music I listen to and I'm sure the musicians didn't have classic television in mind when recording their songs. But it just feels as entertaining as it feels wrong.

This all stems from my belief that "Dark Side of the Rainbow" is crap. Watching old movies and listening to trippy music isn't exclusive to "The Wizard of Oz" and Pink Floyd. So therefore I sit here today watching this show with the volume down and listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival with some Prince in between. There's nothing like watching television shows that are structured by 1950s American morals while listening to 1980s New Wave interspersed with Classic Rock. There are no parallels, no eerie comparisons. In fact the whole thing feels wrong even. Like eating a pizza at church or ice skating on carpet.

It truly provides an out of mind experience.

It's all I can do when the outdoor temperature is 90 degrees and climbing.

What's My New Age Again?

So I was in the store tonight and I noticed a new sign in the snack and beverage isle (You notice these things nearly immediately when you've been there as often as I have). The sign that used to say "Iced Tea" now says "New Age Beverages."

Now this is a broad classification if I've ever seen one. This "New Age Beverage" label covers products like "Snapple," "Red Bull" and all those cool energy drinks that are the rage these days.

This is all odd to me, the term "New Age" is a bit antiquated these days as it is, but isn't it more of a philosophy than a branding for consumer products? That seems as logical as the "Liberal Breakfast Cereal" section or the "fundamentalist right wing produce" department.

"New Age" itself is an oxymoron anyway. We've been turning the corner of this "New Age" for some 30 years. It's like the disco that never died.

So you New Agers enjoy your Yanni and Red Bull, I'm heading off to get some "Metaphysical Ice Cream."