:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

:: Finally, an Update: Random Thoughs ::

It's been a while hasn't it? There's been stuff going on here but for whatever reason, I just haven't felt like writing. But anyway, here's some random thoughts interspersed with stuff that's actually been going on here:

• Football season is starting soon. And it just felt like it was just last month that I was talking shit about Terrell Owens.

• The Girlfriend was out of town the last week visiting her family in Michigan. While I did miss her, I did enjoy the uh, what's the word? Ah yes. "Quiet." I enjoyed the quiet.

• As a turtle owner, this story caught my attention. I have to ask: HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?!?!?! It's a TWO FOOT wide TURTLE. Was the owner a cripple?! How does a turtle that runs slower than Andy Richter after a ham buffet even get out of the block?! Seriously? And how does anyone not report seeing a random turtle ambling down the street? Is this a common occurrence in South Carolina? Someone tell me, please. Sorry about the rant, I'm just weird about turtles.

• Now that it's been used about 3,264,937 times over the weekend, I never want to see the phrase "Boston Massacre" ever again.

• For a guy who didn't even know what Marsala was until I started working at my current restaurant I make - according The Girlfriend - a pretty damn good Veal Marsala.

• I read a story that women are able to determine a man's character within a second of meeting him. The report doesn't say anything about whether the women are actually correct.

• The Girlfriend and I saw "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby" before she took off. It was the stupidest movie I've seen in a while (and that's saying something). But it's the funniest stupid movie I've seen. Not quite as good as "Old School" or "Anchorman" but just funny as "Wedding Crashers" but with a better ending. Let me put it this way; The Girlfriend really liked it and she absolutely hates Will Ferrell.

• As good as Will Ferrell was, the cast made the movie: John C. Reilly as Cale Naughton Jr., Leslie Bibb as Ricky's disturbingly hot wife, Gary Cole as the absentee dad, Michael Clarke Duncan, Andy Richter and Sacha Baron Cohen as he gay French driver. (With a name like that, you wonder if he's gay in real life. Come on, "Sacha?" And as stupid as it was, those with discerning minds can tell that it takes a certain amount of intelligence and talent to write stupid that funny. Just thought I'd point that out.

• Jon Benet Ramsey's "real killer" was found? Didn't see that one coming. (Always thought it was the mom.) I heard forensic specialists wanted to reexamine her body for more tests except, apparently, her mother had the body exhumed. You know, to change her outfit. (Yes, I'm going to hell.)

• According to this article, rap music is blamed for teen pregnancy. I always thought it was Catholicism but I've been wrong before.

• Milwaukee is, apparently, the hardest-drinking city in America. It's just too bad that the only beer they have is so crappy (Pabst Blue Ribbon, Olde English 800). Or maybe they're too drunk to care. We may never know.

• I'm used to dating women who get complimented by other women for their hair. The Girlfriend isn't quite used to dating a man who gets complimented by other women for his hair. Just so you know, I'm not exactly sure how to react, either. (Full disclosure: It is kinda flattering.)

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:49 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: You Know you're from California if... ::

I am a "CALIFORNIAN." That means...

-Everyone hates cops (sadly true)

-We'll roll up 40 deep when something goes down (I'm not sure what "roll up 40 deep" means but, sure why not)

-I live next door to mexicans (that's how I had a Mexican Grandma)

-Our chicks are WAYYYY hotter than yours (very true)

- I say "like" and "for sure" and "right on" and "dude" and "totally" and "peace out" and "chill" and "tight" and "bro" and I say them often (like, totally dude!)

- I know what real cheese & avocados taste like (avocados in Florida aren't nearly as tasty as a good California Haas)

- I don't get snowdays off because theres only snow in Mammoth, Tahoe, Shasta, and Big Bear (snow's that white stuff that you don't snort, right?)

- I can wear sandals all year long (board shorts and flip flops almost all year)

- I go to the Beach - not "down to the shore" (who says "down to the shore"?)

- I know 65 mph really means 100 (I keep it around 85 nowadays)

- When someone cuts me off, they get the horn and the finger and high speed chase cuz we dont mess around on the road (though Miami drivers are even worse than California drivers, something I didn't think was possible)

- My governor can kick your governor's ass (We're talking to you, Minnesota)

- I can go out at midnight (yep)

-You judge people based on what area code they live in, and when asked where you're from, you give your area code (310)

- I might get looked at funny by locals when I'm on vacation in their state, but when they find out I'm from California I turn into a Greek GOD (not exactly God-like, but people do respond positively... unless they lived there for a short time)

- We don't stop at stop signs... we do a "california roll." No cop no stop baby! (here, people don't even slow down)

- I can get fresh and REAL Mexican food 24 hours a day (best Mexican food outside of, well, Mexico)

- All the TV shows you "other" states watch get filmed here (except for the ones filmed in Canada... that horrible grammar isn't mine)

-We're the Golden State. Not the Cheese State. Not the Garden State.....GOLDEN!!! (no one else comes close)

- We have In 'n Out Burger (again, no one else comes close)

- I have the most representation in the House of Representatives, which means MY opinion means more than yours (what we lack in quality, we make up for in quantity)

- The best athletes come from here (steroid users COUGHBarryBondsCOUGH and, well, the entire SanFran Giants roster don't count)

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 4:58 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Do not Feed the Animals ::

I like to eat out (at restaurants), even if it's just down the block to Taste Bakery and I like to bring The Girlfriend along whenever I can. What's been happening a lot on our dinner dates is that she gets quite preoccupied watching me eat. Let me explain:

I've mentioned a few (dozen) times how I'm a guy that enjoys a nice, large meal. So regardless of where we go, she finishes before I do since she doesn't eat nearly as much as I do (few people do, except for maybe this guy who pulled this off. Yes, I'm envious). And depending on what I have in front of me, she watches me scarf down rather intently.

As she explains it, it's kinda like watching an animal at a zoo eat. Now, I know I'm not the only one who's fascinated by an animal feeding, (hell, I'm entertained just watching my turtle eat his pellets.) especially if it involves carnivores being fed large amounts of meat.

Apparently, she finds a similar entertainment value (or morbid fascination, I'm not sure which) watching me eat. It's not that I have disgusting eating habits or anything. Far from it. But I've been told, by a few others as well, that they've never seen anyone - for example - dismantle a rack of baby back ribs as cleanly or thoroughly as I do.

Hey, a guy's gotta be good at something, right?

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:28 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: My Fault ::

Have you read this story? My own beer consumption might have something to do with this. I blame my three months in Prague.

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 3:25 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: When I Grow Up ::

... I wanted to be:

President of the United States: Ages 5 - 6
Garbage Truck Driver: 6 1/2 - 7
Artist: 7 - 9
Fighter Pilot: 9 - 12
Painter: 12-14
Pretty much anything other than what my parents wanted: 15 - 18
Professional Tennis Player: Somewhere in that 15 - 18 period
Personal Trainer: 18 - 19
Graphic Design: 19 - 22
Web Design: 23 (for about a month)
Physical Therapist: 2 months
Personal trainer (again): 1 month
Law Enforcement: 24 (again, about a month)
Illustrator: 24-28
Seminary: 30 minutes.
Art Director: 28 - 30
Copywriter: about 3 months
Sports Writer: another month
Art Director: 30 - current
Bartender: in case advertising bores me

I ripped off this blog post idea from my kid brother's blog (no, I'm not telling you where it is). I found his post revealing in that I used to wonder why I opted out of law to become a college professor. (It was a decision that I was always proud of him for making; choosing personal fulfillment over big paycheck.) If you read my blog for a while, you know I always touted him as the smart one in the family - he graduated from Boston College in FOUR years with BOTH a Bachelor's and Master's in Philosophy. (He's also the good looking one and the athletic one. Me, I'm...well, the Black Sheep.)

And being the philosophical type he wrote this about his choice:

I realized that law was not what I wanted. Not even close. It was someone else's dream. My parents? Society? Friends? I don't know. But I do know it wasn't mine. Choosing a profession unfortunately has very little to do with what we want. It is all about what we need, what we think we need, what we think we should have, and what others want for us. As a result, we willingly submit ourselves to jobs and careers that we don't enjoy for the sake of that paycheck, that financial security, that "honoring" of the parents, that whatever. And we justify ourselves by saying, "It ain't that bad", "At least I don't hate my job like the brother over there", or "I'll get used to it".

I mentioned he's the smart one, right? It's true though. And I'm fairly impressed with how he seems to have learned this at a relatively young age (24. By the way, I sometimes wonder if it must be awkward for his students since half of them are older than he is). I had the same "there has to be more to life than work" mentality at that age but unlike him, mine came from a lack of direction. I was, at that point, a fairly low point in my life. I was tired of bickering with my parents about my future, trying to finish college, and working a job that wasn't what I thought it would be. (Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I learned that early on but I still wish I made a little money beforehand. You know, like normal people.)

Everything changed that August, when my kid brother moved to Boston. The parental pressure eased up. It's almost like finally having a child that would actually amount to something in life gave them a feeling of having something to show for being parents. I never caved into that pressure. Sure at one point I may have wanted to make my parents proud but, what about me? There's what my bro wrote but I took it one step further: if I chose what my parents wanted (engineer, medicine, law, business) sure they'd be proud but what's left of my life once they're dead? Sure they'd be looking down on me, still proud, but what good does heavenly pride do for those that are still living?

(That's one of many reasons why I'm sure my parents won't approve of any woman I date since what they want and what I want - what good does it do me if they're happy when I'm the one that has to live with her? - are two very different things; but that's another post. And if you think this is because of spite or lingering bitterness, you're wrong. I'm too old to consider either of those things.)

Since then I've been virtually free to pursue my future as I see fit and I've found fulfillment in other places. I only read books I want to. I went to Mexico with a friend's church to help build houses. I learned how to play guitar. I make a great Shrimp Marsala. (Just ask The Girlfriend.) And I finally figured what I want to do and moved to Miami to go to school for it. Three years later my parents are, if not exactly proud, relieved that I found direction. Sure, they want me to quit being a waiter and start my "real" job but, whatever. (And don't ever tell me that being a waiter isn't a "real" job. If you're one of those that think so, I defy you to try it out for two weeks. You won't last three days.)

But what happens when I finally get that job as an Art Director? I did it for three months in Prague and it really is something I enjoy doing. But just because of who I am I have a tendency to think too much. Is it really what I want? What else could I be doing? Is it really worth it? What if, God forbid, my parents were right and I should have gone into law? (On second thought, NO.)

But it doesn't matter what I do, as long as I have other sources for fulfillment and a life outside of work. But here again, is where my kid bro articulates our common thoughts in writing far better than I ever could (did mention he's that smart one?):

Someone once told me that 'a profession is more than just something you can clock in and out of. It is a statement, a belief, a declaration of self. It is more than a paycheck, it is an affirmation of life. To view it as anything less is to sell yourself short.'

And we wonder why there is so much deadness and apathy in the world today? How can it be anything but that? If you exist unhappily, unfaithfully, and unenergetically for 8-9 hours a day, if not more, you can't expect to just snap out of it when you need or want to. It becomes you.

But let us be realistic. We are not a people of principle. If it's integrity or a hot meal, then integrity be damned. I gots to eat. There are no Roarks, only Keatings.

We may be walking around with full stomachs, but do not be confused. We are starving.

I have no idea who Roark or Keating is. Maybe he's going through a personal crisis that makes him feel a little down on everything. I don't know (we get along well but being seven years apart, we're not that close.) All I know is right now, life feels right. I may not be surrounded by food, but I'm far from starving.

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 3:16 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Uncomfortable ::

Right now I'm sitting at the bar of my new favorite restaurant in South Beach called Quarterdeck (14 beers on tap, great burgers, and FREE WiFi... I've already been here enough times that a couple of the managers recognize me) enjoying my late lunch ($12.99 for 1 1/2 pounds of Snow Crab legs - friggin' awesome) before I have to stop by the grocery store. This is where the title of this post comes into play.

I'm about to leave and The Girlfriend, who's not feelilng well, asks me how long I'll be gone. I tell her it'll be a couple of hours since I'm going to stop by the grocery store after lunch. She then says "can you pick up some tampons for me?"

I paused for a minute. My facial expression - whatever it was, I'm not sure since the only thing on my mind was a quick and painless death - must have been quite telling since she immediately said "that's ok. I'll get some myself later." Trying to save face I weakly reply "you sure?" She nods and smiles. Just as I'm about to step out she says to me "be sure call me when you get to Publix so I can tell you what I need."

Now, I've never done this before but I suppose the day had to come sooner or later. Not to say I'm apprehensive but I had a brief thought about the crab legs being my last meal. Sort of. Alright, maybe it's not that bad but is there anything more uncomfortable for guys than to have to pick up feminine hygiene products for your significant other? (Other than trying to sit through that one Hanes underwear commercial where Kevin Bacon and Michael Jordan spend 60 seconds giggling like schoolgirls while homoerotically flirting with each other like awkward cellmates who've been in prison for the first time? - not that I'd know anything about that.)

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 7:31 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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