My attachment to video games has never been consistent. I won't touch them for months or even years, but then one comes along that hooks me into wasting hours of my precious life's time. More often than not, my first impression of these games (Tetris, Warcraft, Bejeweled) is something like, "This is so stupid". Sometime after saying that, I'll realized I haven't eaten in a few days.
This is the way it is with Desktop Tower Defense. You're welcome.
As a reader of this page (which I know you are because you're reading this page. Simple logic), you've probably by now come to the conclusion that I'm the funniest person on the face of the planet. Ahhhh, I'm flattered, but it's not true. No, there are much funnier people than me, and almost all of them are good friends of mine.
As proof, I offer you this email exchange from yesterday, which not only shows you how hilarious my friends are, but also gets me off the hook for writing something myself and/or fixating on how Pam's speech in The Office last night was unsettlingly similar to words I said just a short time ago.
From: AlexAll email reprinted without permission.
Date: May 10, 2007
Subject: Ich ein un Knut-lover
Seriously, how can something this cute be in Germany? If the krauts had this during WWII, we'd all be seig-heiling and listening to David Hasselhoff albums.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tBQRfKeIYZc
From: Hans
Date: May 10, 2007
Subject: Re: Ich ein un Knut-lover
Well it's worth pointing out at least that this paragon of German cuteness will grow up to be one of the most ferocious animals on Earth.
From: Alex
Date: May 10, 2007
Subject: Re: Ich ein un Knut-lover
A) I would like to point out that Knut is not a paragon of German cuteness, it is a paragon of polar cuteness that was seized by the Germans, probably in some sort of surprise raid in the dead of night;
2) If we make it smoke cigarettes and drink coffee now, it's growth will be stunted and it will remain this cute forever. That's what happened to Herve Villachez (except for the cute part);
III) Did you see it nursing? Holy shit. I just can't fucking stand it. That little predator is unbearably cute; and
iv) Scarlett Johanson described herself as a "sweet little slice of cherry pie." How conceited! I think that she needs to not believe her own press. I'm just saying.
I just can't stand how cute this fucking bear cub is: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QaWWBTRSc3s
Part of the conceit behind this here blog is there's never any time when there's nothing to talk about. And while I do still feel that way, that there's always some subject, current event or fat-kid-dancing YouTube video to kick start some conversation, I've also compiled a pretty hefty list of subjects that won't ever appear on this page. Some of them are too personal, some of them are too boring, some of them would take me far too long to write, and today, I have nothing but these subjects floating around in my head.
So today, I'll be reaching into my Big Bag Of Cop-Out Post Topics to find a topic. And today's topic is...{drumroll}...what's getting served up as I play through my Never Played playlist. The most odd of all my playlist listens, the Never Played playlist is now at over 2200 songs, thanks mostly to last winter's binge. And there's some embarrassing stuff in there. But I'm letting it all hang out, dear readers.
Here's what it's served up today (and I'll be updating it as the day goes on):
Digable Planets, "Dial 7"
Christopher Cross, "Sailing"
The Dixie Cups, "Iko Iko"
Billy Idol, "Rebel Yell (Live and Acoustic)"
T. Rex, "Get It On"
Band of Horses, "Monster"
Liz Phair, "Girls Room"
Smokey Johnson, "I Can't Help It"
Ride, "Paralyzed"
Rolling Stones, "Complicated"
DJ Shadow, "What Does Your Soul Look Like"
Rufus Wainwright, "Release the Stars"
Pink Floyd, "Fearless"
Stereolab, "Puncture In the Radak Parmutation"
Loretta Lynn, "Happy Birthday (Single Version)"
Sugarloaf, "Green-Eyed Lady"
The Turtles, "Outside Chance"
Jim Flaherty's Caravan, "Real Gone Daddy"
Van Halen, "House of Pain"
Chuck Carbo, "Can I Be Your Squeeze"
Slade, "We'll Bring The House"
Phil Collins, "I'm Not Moving"
The Monks, "Complication"
Night Ranger, "(You Can Still) Rock In America" (Oh, the shame)
The Rolling Stones, "Far Away Eyes"
Stereolab, "Ticker-Tape of the Unconscious"
Dusty Springfield, "Magic Garden"
The Cure, "End"
The Squires, "Going All The Way"
The Spinanes, "For No One Else"
Sally Shapiro, "Anorak Christmas"
Pink Floyd, "Hey You"
Air, "Playground Love"
Bon Jovi, "You Give Love A Bad Name"
Etienne Daho, "Arnold Layne"
The Sonics, "Strychnine"
From today's Salon newsletter:
Matt Baker was a restless teenager in suburban Las Vegas who loved gangster movies and acting cool. Nobody could imagine he wanted to murder his best friend and bury him in the desertEveryone knows that the creepy, aloof guys who love watching violence and murder are the last people you need to worry about!
In a few weeks, the office that I work in is moving from the culturally exciting streets of Dupont/Foggy Bottom/Golden Triangle to the concrete tumbleweed landscape of Crystal City. This doesn't affect me in the work area. Either way, I'm sitting in front of a monitor. But it does have a big affect in two daily areas of my life: 1) my commute, which is going from a 15 minute walk to a 35 minute metro ride, and 2) and more importantly: my daily lunch options will change entirely.
I've never been much for bringing my lunch. I love the daily ritual of deciding on a place to go, getting together an arsenal of regular haunts and having the variety of lunch options. I know it's not very cost-effective or healthy, but it's a lot more enjoyable, and unlike most other people, I enjoy enjoyable things.
So as I spend my last few weeks in Dupont hitting all the lunch places that I won't be able to go to once the office moves (most of them are closed at night and on the weekends), I'm going to take a few minutes to reflect on all the places that made up my lunch routines in the jobs that I've had, and which ones I sorely miss. Join me, won't you? Won't you?! Why not? Well, tough shit. You're coming anyway. Put your shoes on.
Greensboro, Battleground Ave., 1995-1996
I hate to think of the number of years I wiped off my lifespan to Cook Out's hush puppies, sweet tea and burgers at this place. But it was so worth it. The hush puppies alone would be worth dying at 40.
Chapel Hill, Franklin Street, 1997-1999
I didn't think I would miss Pepper's Pizza when I was there. The pizza's good, but I've had better. But it was the atmosphere and the punk rock history of the place that makes me miss having it as a regular stop. Plus, they had two specialty pizza slices that I still dream about and drool: the Chicken Soup (chicken, onions, tiny bit of olive oil) and the ball park (andouille sausage, onions, tabasco).
I can always freak out a UNC grad by telling them I used to go to Hectors for lunch. The grads response will ALWAYS be, "Really?! I never went there before 11 pm!" It's a greasy burger spot that was famous for their burgers served in a pita (aka "the brick") and their newspaper ads which featured a map showing the route from Hectors to the UNC hospital's cardiac wing.
Though my nostalgia trip back there revealed it to be not nearly as tasty as I remembered, it was kind of a turning point. Before I started going to Hectors, I went to McDonalds pretty often to lunch before I realized that I wanted rid my life of the kinds of homogenous habits that chains encourage. Switching my heart attack meals to a local place made a huge difference in my life, and I've only eaten at McDonalds about 4 times since.
Alexandria, VA, 1999-2001
In spite of two years in Alexandria, there's really no place that I miss; no meals that I wish were a little bit closer to me. Old Town had some decent places, and Canal Center had about three places, but none of them really stick out to me. Which makes a terrible story.
Reston, VA, 2001-2002
Reston was so bland and so full of chains that I can't even remember the name of the one place that I liked. It was in a massive shopping center that had a huge parking lot and it took me 10-15 minutes to drive there, but the calzones and Italian sandwiches were well worth it. I was more than happy to leave Reston for DC, but I wish I could have taken that place with me.
Dupont, 2002-present
Oh, the massive meals at the Greek Deli, and the number of local sandwich places that aren't open on the weekends or past 3 pm. Unless I work from home every now and then, I won't be able to go to them anymore after December. I'll try to stay local in Crystal City, but it may not be easy. Oh, the delicious treats I'm leaving behind...
The moral of the story? Lord, I eat badly.
Daddy got a raise and a bonus for getting the Award For Outstanding Achievement In The Field of Excellence. So what is he spending it on? Let's just say that Daddy's going Pro:
Do your magic, mail folk. And do it quick.
It's strange and annoying how seeing someone you used to date can make you feel so lousy. It doesn't seem to matter that this is a person you're not particularly interested in anymore, only dated casually for a short time, don't think about much anymore, who you see and think, "isn't nearly as cute as I remember", yet it still ends up as one of those sudden tweaks in a day that turns it from an ordinary day into a rotten one.
It's a pretty strange phenomenon, but one that I see a lot, regardless of whether the former flames burned bright, were just keeping the pan warm, or some setting in between. I guess this is the problem with leaving those people in the past when you break up: you feel they should just be left in the past, and you get irrationally annoyed when they end up in your present. It's not their place! What the hell are they doing here?! It's not where they belong! Go home!
Sorry to get all Carrie Bradshaw on you.
I never thought I'd be so glad to see a Monday and the start of a new work week.
Let's just skip the details and get to an opinion that I've held for a long time and was reminded to share: when will we, as a people, get rid of the idea that breakups need to be done face-to-face? Can we just get together and agree that when someone gets dumped, they're going to be mad at the person dumping them no matter what, so isn't it just better to do it when you're thinking about it, rather than having the person drag themselves out somewhere hoping for a nice little date only to get the love axe? It's insult to injury, I tells ya. Email, text message, phone call, whatever. Lets just get it over with and carry on with our lives.
The worst was last year when I was seeing a woman (not very seriously, but I still liked her), and we didn't see each other for a few weeks (it happens). Then she started trying to get together with me, but only for coffee or lunch, never: "What are you doing this weekend?" So I figured it was coming, but I wished that she would just get right down to it. So finally got to lunch after about two weeks of scheduling attempts, she never said anything about wanting to end things, was very affectionate and I figured I was back in. I was all excited that afternoon and evening, thinking that things were starting up again, and really glad to get a call from her that night. We talked for an HOUR before she finally gave me the, "There's something I need to tell you..." I know she was thinking that she was being polite and considerate and doing the right thing by trying to tell me upfront, but it sure as hell would have made my life about 20 times easier if she'd just cut to the chase and sent it in an email. Would I have been annoyed? Of course. But no more annoyed than what happened, and it would have all been over about two weeks earlier.
I read something recently that said that something like 1 in 5 people in England have admitted to breaking up with someone over a text message. Now THAT's progress.
Getting back from my weekend in North Carolina, I throw my suitcase on the floor, look at my bedroom alarm clock, and notice the little red dot that indicates that my alarm clock is on, which means that, at some point this weekend, my downstairs and upstairs neighbors were treated to an hour of increasingly loud alarm beeping beginning at 8:15 am both Saturday and Sunday morning.
I'm so, so sorry.
To make it up to myself and no one else, I've had the following song on repeat all morning:
Johnny Boy, "You Are The Generation That Bought More Shoes And You Get What You Deserve"
So amazing.
Like everyone else, I look in the mirror and figure that I'm doing okay looks-wise. Losing my hair, maybe could be in better shape, but doing okay otherwise. Then I see a photo of myself and it's like some kind of a freak show going on with my head. Bizarre skull, offensive smile, wrinkles like the grand canyon. My main emotion right now after seeing a couple of pictures of me from a party yesterday is that I'm really appreciating my friends for being able to be around me for extended periods of time without audibly gagging.
I'll bet that people living in times before cameras were everywhere were a lot more confident.
Any blogger who's been around the block knows that, when you need guidance, you need look no futher than Bears Will Attack mastermind (and Christian's roommate) Brian. One of Brian's best pieces of advice is, when at a loss for what to blog, just make a list. So that's what I'm going to do.
Only...well, I'm not really at a loss of what to blog. See, I've been afflicted lately. Since moving to Dupont, I seem to see the Most Beautiful Woman Ever™ at least once an hour. It's not the same woman; it just seems like, hallelujiah! it's raining gorgeous women. Rain rain everywhere, etc.
So here's my list of impossibly beautiful women I have seen in the last few days, numbered not for ranking, but only because I prefer numbered lists to bulleted lists:
You know what I hate? Decisions. I can't believe they're not outlawed yet.
You know what else I hate? Process. We can make a phone that needlessly doubles as a camera, but we can't figure out how to eliminate process and go directly to the conclusion.
And do you know what the worst thing in the world is? The absolute, no question worst thing in the world is? When I have to decide what process to use in order to get to a conclusion that I'm anxious and nervous about getting to when, in a seize-life sense, we really could just cut to the chase.
You know what else? I just told shared the deepest part of my personal life without actually saying a damn thing.
On my Saturday trip to the CVS, I got all metrosexual and bought some facial scrub. It's just time to lavish a little attention on my skin, I figured. It's been pretty much ignored all my life. Plus, the TV keeps telling me to, and I can only ignore it for so long. But I got that stuff in the shower, put it on my face, and hot damn, does it ever feel good! It's like getting a grainy facial massage, which is a lot more appealing than it sounds. I'm hooked.
Damn those queer eyes for making my straight guy drug store costs triple.
