Chafing and balls the size of Texas

"Oh. My. God."

"This is the funniest shit I have ever seen!"

"Are you f**king kidding me?"

"Doing a great job, ladies!"

"I don't feel too bad about not shaving my legs this morning anymore."

"Wow! I tried to get my boyfriend to come too, but he wouldn't."

"Nice skirt!"

"Looking sexy!"

"Way to go, 3-1-7-9!"

So what is the ruckus about anyway, you ask? Well, I supported the Children's Memorial Hospital Medical Research Junior Board Foundation today. I earned my brownie points today by supporting and indirectly raising money for this great, worthy cause. But specifically, I ran the Fleet Feet Women's 5K, 10K and Festival today! As Ginger. =)

It all started with a few friends of mine cracking a joke about me doing it months ago, and using my alter ego, Ginger. How Ginger came about, I don't know. But I can show you a quick pic of her though. =) But when time got closer to the race, I actually ended up doing the 10K race. The comments above were dished out from the minute I got out of the cab and started walking towards the race event, as well as throughout the race. And that doesn't even include the multitude of stares from all the women runners. I was practically the only male runner in the group of thousands. And pretty much the only dude with balls the size of Texas. =) It's just too bad it was so hot that I couldn't complete the image with the hot blue wig I lugged to the race!

My apologies; I digress. The whole point of this is that I now have an elevated understanding and better appreciation of the women out there who pretty themselves up at great sacrifices. This should serve as a lesson to you dudes who may one day want to strap on a skirt: use lots of body glide on inner thighs! Hot + sweat + skirt - body glide = serious chafing! Now I know how painful {and real} it is when girls in skirt complain about chafing! =)

Click on the picture to see more pictures:

Guster for you!

Where to begin? 2004. While living in Kansas City, I totally missed out on the Guster concert because I had to work. By the time my flight touched down at MCI, the concert was well under way already.

2005. I distinctly remember getting an email the morning waking up at Aarthi's from Guster announcing the availability of fans-only presale concert ticket. That was a brutal night. I passed out thanks to Amy's toxic mix of shots, before midnight! Anyway, I sent out a text message to everybody I cared about that we should all go. But sadly, nobody responded at 9:00 in the morning on Saturday.

Anyway, for months I was sitting on the tickets, and I could not wait to go. Then suddenly, C e r n e r instructed me that I had to go work over the weekend. Even after I have told my manager that I couldn't work that weekend, and have it blocked off months in advance. And Guster was playing at the Riviera Theatre, a cool short distance from where I live. But my buddy Chris, an avid fan of Guster and the first person to introduce the band to my listening pleasure, wanted to come all the way from Iowa and bring his girlfriend there. So he went instead of me, while I was working somewhere on the east coast.

Fast forward to 2006. I have not seen Chris in forever, and in the years he has dated Amber {I think that's her name}, I have not met her. So I tried to get him to come back to Chicago this year, just like the last, and I bought advance tickets. And I could not wait, as usual. That is the one pitfall of pre-sale tickets. But unfortunately, the role got reversed this time. Chris had to go work in northern Michigan over the weekend. So I went to the concert {last night} any way. That is how much I enjoyed their music.

Thinking that I couldn't bring my camera, I just left my Canon SD20 at home. But as I have the new Nokia N91, I used it to capture some videos. So if you like Guster or just want to check out their tunes, then I present to you the next best thing to the live concert from Chicago {below}! =) And I could not believe they opened with my favorite Keep It Together track - Careful. Perfect! {Except they didn't play my Ganging Up On the Sun favorite track - One Man Wrecking Machine. Oh well.} And the whole time they played excellent music. I even left Chris a voicemail with two songs to keep him awake while he worked! So anyway, here are the vids! =)

Careful -





Demons and Center of Attention -





Amsterdam -





I Spy -





Fa Fa {with two absolute hotties, Brittany and Katie} -





Happier {this song somehow resonates strongly with me, something about being an accurate slice of my life or something?} -

If you see something, say something.

Ever since 9/11 occurred five years ago, we have become a society of greater vigilance and more forgiving with the stripping of some civil liberties and freedom. And it did not help at all with the Madrid train bombing that occurred just a short while ago. Or the incident on the London tube, or the New York subway.

"If you see something, say something." Mayor Bloomberg has said it many times. So did Mayor Daley. In fact, you see a lot of such signs on the Chicago Transit Authority buses and trains.

After celebrating Matt's graduation from Loyola University with a Master's of Business Administration, I left for the train. As soon as I got on Fullerton stop, a train pulled up. Sweet! That's just a 15 minute ride home. But when we got to Argyle, we got stuck. There were two trains ahead of us. And soon enough, two trains behind us. And the train operator dude was kind enough to brief us every once in a while with more than just, "Sorry for the delay, but we will be moving shortly."

Turns out that the first train at the Berwyn station had a passenger press the emergency button and reported seeing a weapon. The Chicago Fire Department was there, along with the K-9 Unit. A full search of the first train was in order. Wow. Our train operator said, "Hey, I'm just like you. I want to go home too, but I guess they're really taking security seriously."

I had to pee. I could not stand there for over an hour on a freaking train. I could've walked home, but I didn't want to walk alone through Argyle and Broadway at this hour. Even though I was seriously inconvenienced, I am relieved to know that "If you see something, say something" is not just a poster, but something they act on. Good for CTA!

A+ for effort, F- for execution.

Hmm... This is the second Thursday in a row where I got stuck laying over in Kansas City on my way home from Oklahoma. And in both instances, the extended layover was due to severe weather hitting Chicago. Ugh. I can't seem to get away from Kansas City, it seems like.

Well, I thought I wouldn't be blogging today, but seeing how much time I have to kill at the Kansas City International Airport as well as on the plane, why not? But as a side note, I thought I had been asleep for maybe half an hour last night and had to wake up and go pee. But the clock said 07:50. Damn! That was the shortest perceived sleep I've ever had. And my head hurt.

Alright. We have been cleared for departure, and it is 19:15. I've been at this airport for 2.25 hours now, and now that we are ready to leave, we're waiting for two more passengers who did not make it back on the plane! What the...? I want to go home!

Anyway, that's beside the point. You know how Southwest Airlines is famous for their peanuts? If they sponsor any kind of event, like a street fest, their booth will be serving peanuts! That is how proud of their peanuts they are. Anyway, I knew that if you are allergic to peanuts {incidentally, they're not in the nut family}, they will offer you pretzels, which you have to specifically ask for as they don't carry many of them. And in the five years of weekly travels, most of which was with Southwest Airlines, I have finally noticed this. Look at the picture below:


So yeah, if you're allergic to peanuts, the pretzels will kill you too! So I give Southwest Airlines A+ for the effort in accommodating those with special needs, and an F- for executing the accommodation. =)

I love Oklahoma City! Really!

{Warning! I am a tinny winnie itsy bitsy wasted! I just have to blog now because I'm flying home tomorrow evening, which would mean I won't have any time to blog. So... Please pardon me for any spelling, verb tense, or grammatical mistakes I may infract... Or that this blog doesn't make sense and have no reason and rhyme to it.}

Okay. So everybody, including the front desk gals, keeps on telling me that I must try sushi here, in the middle of a land locked area. And I caved in. What the hell, why not give it a chance, right? Apparently Sushi Neko on Western Ave is the place to go. So I went.

Holy mother of God! That place was packed! And there were lines out the wazoo! Even I, being by myself, have to wait for a long time before the bar has an open spot for open seating! But eventually, after about 20 minutes, I found a slot at the bar.

Then the server gave me a cold sake shot. Uh, what? He said, "Complements of the lady over there." Wow. In the many travels that I do, about 1 in 5 times someone will buy me a drink at the bar. But I never expected this to happen here in Oklahoma City. That was cool. So to reciprocate, I invited Gina over to sit next to me. And we had a good conversation. By now, I've had two Michelob Ultra {in the hopes of keeping my calorie intake down}, five cold sake shots, and a glass of wine. And I have not yet finished my food!

Then this huge group of people showed up. We started talking to them. It turns out that they were there for one of the guys' birthday celebration. I bought them a round of cold sake shots. There was Keith and his wife Ashleigh, his brother Kyle and girlfriend Rachelle, Brett and his girlfriend Heather, and the birthday boy Jeff and his fiancée Ashley. They are really cool and friendly. I chatted with Ashleigh and Keith, and Heather. Then they finally got a table.

So it's back with Gina again. She's a lawyer. That's cool. And she's got big tits. I wouldn't have mentioned it if she didn't keep on flaunting her goods and touching my thigh. And oh my God! Was she a super flirt!

Then somehow, I decided to buy Jeff and his entourage two bottles of wine to help celebrate the birthday celebration. I toasted, and went back to Gina. But for some reason, Keith came over and invited me to their table. Rock on!

So I hung out with them for the rest of the evening, cracking jokes and getting wasted. Some of them live here in Oklahoma City. Some from Norman. And then some were from Edmond. Beats the hell out of me where those cities are. But I assumed that it must be near, since who would drive 100 miles to eat sushi. And speaking of which, judging by the crowd, and the fact that there's another sushi restaurant right across the street from Sushi Neko, and two other sushi restaurants on Western (north of I-44), I can safely say affirm that yes, sushi is the new rage in Oklahoma City. And the sushi at Sushi Neko isn't all that bad. Not top quality, but not bad.

Seeing that this group of people is so much fun and engaging, I decided to be an asshole. I ditched Gina at the bar and spent the rest of the evening with this big group of rowdy people. Wine, beer and sake flowing, we had a blast. Keith was cool. His wife and I flirted around and he didn't get jealous or anything. I like a confident man. After all, he knows she's going home to him. Yeah, men with confidence are up there in my books. Anyway, even though I felt like an asshole for ditching Gina, I'm not that worried about it because I wasn't looking for any anyway.

Finally I decided that all the drinking has to stop. After all, I have to drive back to my hotel. After exchanging everybody's business cards, I bid adieu to my newfound friends. Right before I got to I-44, I realized that I have left my wallet on the table! So I turned around.

When I got there, Keith was calling me to tell me that I have to return and get my wallet. Wow! I never knew that Oklahomans are that friendly. But then again, I shouldn't be all that surprised, considering that my high school girl's mom was an Oklahoman. And I loved her to pieces. Too bad she couldn't be my mother-in-law. So yeah! It has been a great evening. And because of that, I love Oklahoma City!

Okay, bedtime. Ugh... Somebody stop swirling my laptop!

Dirty Business (after all)

Well, well, well. It's another fine day here in Oklahoma OK! {Sorry, I just had to plug that in after seeing it on some license plate a few minutes ago.} After wrapping up work for the day {or evening, rather} at 19:15, I jaunted down the street to the Quail Springs area and went into the P.F. Chang's China Bistro.

As I walked in between the double doors, I noted a plethora of people loitering around the waiting area. Some kids were bored and restless, with chins so low and droopy eyes. Not a good sign. I asked the lovely hostess what the wait time was, and she said, "About 30 minutes." Ouch. This boy is hungry! Especially after only had a tiny can of V8 juice and a Whole Wheat Bagel from the St. Louis Bread Co. for lunch. {Which was a mere 370 calories combined!} So I headed towards the bar where I can get seated quickly.

Seeing that most spots at the bar was filled, I finally found an open one--all the way at the end of the bar, right next to where the servers come to pick up the drink orders for their patrons. As I settled into my high seat, I spotted something. And this, my friends, is the one lonely thing {so far} I love about Oklahoma City: Boulevard Unfiltered Wheat on tap! First things first. "A pint of Boulevard Wheat, please!"

Then I ordered my food. Now, what I had to eat is of no significance to you, or to the story. But I had a great bird's eye view of how the food and beverage industry works. At least the dirty side of it that no one really seems to notice. Anyway, as I sat there, eating and drinking, I was contemplating about possibly quitting the high paying secure job and going back to school to get an MBA degree. {Matt Holmes' soon to be an MBA graduate provided some, uh, inspiration, if you will.} And I thought that I could possibly work during the weekend as a bartender. I mean, what's not to love about it? I am a night owl anyway, and I would totally enjoy having all these cute girls beg me {a cute Asian bartender, no less} to serve them ahead of the guys who had waited five minutes before they did. Power. I like that.

Anyway, back to the point. I noticed three things that made me lose my appetite. First of all, one of the bartenders was closing out a check, and was also returning the menus to the stack. Before getting there, she held the menu up to her mouth, and coughed. Not a single light cough, but three whops of that deep, raspy coughs with effort. Damn! Too late now. I haven't washed my hands since handling the menu, and I am already eating. Damn, damn, damn! was the thought in my head. {Remember I have a slight problem with icky stuff?}

Then the next thing I noticed was that despite the cutesy and friendly projection these lovely servers have towards each other in front of us customers on the floor, they are in fact backstabbers and bitches towards each other. I felt like a cat fight was about to erupt. Case in point. When a server places an order, all the food orders get printed out in the kitchen, and all the drink orders come to the bar. Each ticket has the server's name tied to the order. Well, if you're a server and unlucky enough to have a generic order like, let's say, two strawberry daiquiris or two Miller Lite's or something to that effect, and if you don't get to the bar fast enough to pick them up, some other bimbo {despite her pretty face and the innocence} who also has the same order will swipe the other's order! And it gets amusing especially when the server who placed the first order was only a few seconds behind, and crosses path with said bimbo with drink on tray. "Is that my order you just took?" "I don't care!" "Bitch!"

WOW!!! Who knew that sitting at the end of the bar can be so entertaining? I was SO ready to haul in some of that strangely deep orange dirt and add water to it to create a mud pit right there in that corner of the bar, and ask these servers to have some sort of a naked mud fight! Drool...

Finally, another thing made me realize the behind-the-scenes dirty side of this business was the respect these servers gave to the very drinks you and I order. Granted, this only happened with one server, but if it happened once, what's to say it never happens somewhere else? A fruity drink was sitting there, all pretty and dolled up with an umbrella and cherries, with a straw sticking out. Then this cute server came to pick it up. Before walking away with it, she took a gulp of it with the straw and mused, "Mmm, I've always wanted to try that! Yummy!" All without realizing that, hello!, a patron is sitting just two feet from you! Then she replaced the straw with a clean one. You may think that's fine, but now, remember how I can get icky with stuff? I mean, I carry hand sanitizers, for Pete's sake! Think of the miniscule backwash that just occurred! Then think of the kinky shit she just did with her boyfriend before coming to work! Without brushing her teeth or using mouthwash, no less! Yuck! Yucky yuck!

So there you have it! Another great experience to chalk up to the tales of the food and beverage industry! =)

Never ceasing to amaze myself

The day started quite ordinary enough. As it quite possibly could for any given Sunday. I knew I had to return to Oklahoma City for work, and given the fact that my flight was at 17:50 and I stayed up the prior night watching a movie on DVD, I totally skipped brunch at 11:00. I couldn't go even if I wanted to, because I woke up around noon. Ha!

Anyway, I got up, ate a sandwich, checked into my flight online, and watched the news. {Sadly, former Prime Minister Sharon's health has deteriorated while in a coma since January.} Then I continued to work on minor chores, mostly in the kitchen and living room. I took my time, because I knew that I didn't have much to do and thought I would leave for Midway earlier this time around, like two hours instead of the typical 1.5 hours before my flight departs. {It takes about 30 minutes to get to Midway without much traffic.} I wanted to relax.

16:00 rolled around, and I locked the door behind me. I even took time to take out three bags of trash. And as usual, the elevator took forever. I loaded the Hippo, and jumped in. While navigating the twisty maze in my garage, I struggled with my seatbelt buckle. Then it caught my eye. 5:06. Huh? I slammed the brakes. My cell phone came out my pocket in no time. It read 17:07. I screamed "NO WAY!" My heart sank. Much like how it felt back on March 11.

While waiting for the garage door to pull open, I contemplated the possible outcomes and possible remedies {if you can even call it that}. The 17:50 flight is the last one for the day. The first two flights to Oklahoma City on Monday were already sold out. {I wanted to be lazy and stay in Chicago for another night, as I thought before sleeping on Saturday night.} If I'm lucky enough, it'll take me 25 minutes to get to Midway {a best case guesstimate, mind you}. That'll give me 18 minutes to park my car, go through security checkpoint and run like hell. Doable? Possibly. And you know the saying, "There are no atheists in a foxhole?" Well, I actually prayed for the first time in years! I asked for green lights all the way through and a swift journey.

Despite driving a good 70 mph on Lake Shore Drive from up north where I live {the limit is actually 45}, God must have been taking a vacation, because I hit traffic near the North Ave exit {Erin reminded me that the AVP Tour was going on}. And then I hit two consecutive red lights where Chicago Ave hits LSD. Once I crossed the bridge, all bets were off. I hit some heavy traffic right there. I cursed at myself while watching the pretty King Tut display on the Field Museum. I wanted to get past that stretch of LSD and get on my way to I-55. I forced myself to not look at the clock and try to relax, while driving like a maniac without being overtly dangerous {was that an oxymoron?}.

But when I finally got onto I-55, traffic! Then it dawned on me. Damn, it must be the tourists, spectators and athletes who were in town for the Gay Games over the weekend! And what do you know? A truck was on fire on the highway, and people naturally slowed down to watch. Do you know how much that really irritated me? So I dialed 1-800-I-FLY-SWA and asked if the flight was delayed or not, and what gate it was flying out of. Of course, in a funny twist of fate, the flight was on time, and departing out of gate B18. Why couldn't it be closer to the security checkpoint, instead of being so far away? While in traffic, I mentally prepared for the run I had to make. The best case scenario of 25 minutes of driving time was out the window. That's about half a mile between security checkpoint and gate B18. At a 6 minute mile pace, I thought I can get to B18 in 3 minutes, excluding the wait at the checkpoint. So that left me with an 8 minute window at security.

Finally, after crawling on I-55 at a craptastic average speed of 45 mph, I saw the sign for Cicero Ave. Yes! But the ramp was backed up onto a lane on I-55. So I became the asshole you and I loathe the most. Go up and cutting people off. Hee hee hee. And if you're familiar with that exit, you'll know that the off ramp has two left turning lanes going south towards the airport, and two right turning lanes going north. And what did I do? I got on the third lane, or the left-most side of the right turning lane. Yes, the asshole in me reared its ugly head! I blocked one of the right turning lanes and waited at the red light, while people behind me honked and wanted to go north.

If you're still with me on this story, then I hate to tell you that this is quite possibly a story I reluctantly want to share. The next few parts of it anyway. Because that would involve giving away a few great secrets that I want to keep to me, myself, and no one else. Oh well. If you have read this far, you probably deserve to be let in on a few tips.

You know how if you want to go to the parking garage at Midway, you have to go further south past the airport (near W 59th St), go underneath the walkway {for waiting line for the security checkpoint}, and veer to the right and then hook over to the left and loop around the building to get to either the departure/arrival ramps, as well as the parking garage entrance? Well, they don't have a sign for this, but before you even reach to the airport, you can make a left turn on W 55th St and follow the signs for the rental car return. That ramp at the airport not only allows you to return your rental vehicle {floor one}, but also provides you with a quick and easy shortcut to the parking garage {floor two}! So I went there.

I should have known something, since coming down Cicero every gas station had a long line out onto the street with people waiting to get their vehicles gassed up. Yeah, it should have dawned on me that with the Gay Games going on, there must be a crap load of rental vehicles being returned, just like the many people trying to fly home. When I got to the single-lane ramp, there was a huge line of rental cars waiting. Damn! I was probably about the 15th vehicle in line. I finally looked at the clock. It read 17:37. This is not happening! Then I caught a sign that indicated that you can go on straight to get to the parking garage. So I got away from the line and marched on.

This is now new to me, because I have never gone that way before. I thought it was another possible shortcut. Folks, don't fall for the betraying sign. It loops you through the departure area where cars, cabs and shuttles all drop people off. I screamed bloody murder when I realized this. I had to wait. So the asshole in me came back out, and I started cutting people left and right, much to the disappointment of the airport traffic policewoman. Then I got past this congested area without a ticket; all I got was just a couple loud whistle blows and a nasty glare as I drove by her. And it dumped me back out to traffic. On Cicero. Boy, I got pissed. Because now I'm going to the parking garage using the usual way, by going underneath the walkway and veering to the right, bla bla bla. I pretty much wasted about a good 10 minutes by being adventurous instead of waiting for the 14 cars ahead of me.

All hopes dashed and butchered to pieces, I went in and parked. I looked at the clock. 17:46. I wanted to cry. This is definitely not a good show for my first client engagement within my first month of employment. But what the hell. The personal loss I would have gotten was to pay the $6 for the first half hour at the garage, and go home, send off an email to my client, and explain what happened. That would have pushed back all the meetings by a day. If I was in sales, this would have killed any kind of a deal. But what the hell. I'm going to run anyway. There's always that slight glimmer of hope.

Turning into an asshole yet again, I started running like a madman. I wondered if the airport security guys will try to pull me to the side because they thought I was running away from the law. I got to the walkway. Good. No long line. About five to ten people waiting to get their ID's checked per lane. But I looked beyond. Damn. A long line in every lane at the metal detectors and X-ray machines. There's no point in giving up now, right?

Here's another little secret. If there is ever a bunch of people there, don't fall for either side of the lines. Stay in the middle. Because the middle line then splits into four different lines for different checkpoints, therefore letting you move faster. {Another secret revealed!} Anyway, eventually I got to the other side of the checkpoint. I bent down to put on my shoes. I wanted to look at the time on my cell, but I didn't want anything to deter my hopes. So I picked up my stuff and ran.

I almost killed a little kid wandering around. I almost knocked off a woman like a defensive tackler in football. I ran on the moving sidewalk. I became a jerk and shoved those idiots who chose to stand side by side, even though there was a sign that indicated walk left, stand right. And of course, God had another prank to pull on me. There are four moving walkways between the security checkpoint and gate B18. The middle two walkways were broke! Bastards!!!

As I passed McDonald's, I peered towards gate B18. Empty. I slowed down. But wait. There are three more people waiting to get boarded on line C. Yes! YES!!! I made it. I pulled out my cell phone. It was 17:53. I looked at the guys staring at me, watching the sweat beading off of the ends of my hair, face and neck. My shirt was drenching. And yes, I had sweaty, sticky balls. But I made it. And I chuckled. A new record. Exactly 46 minutes was the time from getting into my car to arriving at the gate. I don't think I'll ever beat this record. Ever. Of course it did help that the flight was delayed by a few minutes. SWEET!

Now, why did I almost miss the flight? Let this be a lesson to you all. Whenever there is a change in time due to daylight savings, make damn sure you change every clock in your house, especially the ones on the stove and the microwave! =)

The O.C.

Have you seen The O.C. on Fox Television? I love that show. But I stopped watching it last season. Not by choice, but Fox decided to move it to Thursday's and thereby causing a major viewing conflict that caused a lot of painful and long dilemma's.

Anyway, once in a while I would set my iTunes to play all five soundtracks to the O.C. in sequence whenever I'm just moseying around the house. It kinda sucks because I'm trying to clean up my place, and this damn Internet keeps on distracting me. I needed a break anyway.

Well, have you noticed that the fourth soundtrack is like totally the best? And today I just realized that subconsciously, my absolute favorite song is Champagne Supernova by Oasis. And the soundtrack had this song covered by Matt Pond Pa. An excellent cover, I have to say. For some reason I thought Teen Spirit by Nirvana was my favorite, but I noticed that I go bonkers whenever I'm driving to Q101 and Champagne Supernova comes on. Or when I'm running. So yeah, I think I'll have to switch my favorite song to whatever my id is telling me. =)

[Additional Reading: The O.C. and International Relations by Ms. Santi Duewel.]

When you have a crush on a Beetle

I'm a dude, right? But I'll admit something here. Back in 1999, I admitted to my then close friend Theresa that my dream car is the New Beetle. I promised her that one day, when I have enough dough, the New Beetle will be mine. In yellow. {Ha! What was I thinking? Thank goodness I broke that promise!}

That kind of a crush on an automobile is normal, as one would say, right? Well, let me tell you about the wrong kind of a crush on the Beetle. Or better yet, what's that saying? A picture is worth a thousand words? So I present you eight thousand words:










So yeah, this shit happened a few days ago on Tuesday in Denver. That's one amazingly lucky woman, that Joanne James! Except I would not have chosen the color as she did.

Welcome to Mooseport!

If you're a fan of Ray Romano, then you probably would have seen one of his funny movies called Welcome to Mooseport, where his character ran for mayor opposite Gene Hackman's US President character. It was such a funny movie. Anyway, do you remember the scene where the president tried to pull a fast one on Romano's character's girlfriend in the movie? If not, maybe this life-imitating-art moment will remind you:


I wanted to blog about this last night after returning home from hot, hot Oklahoma City, but couldn't because of my flight being delayed coming into Chicago. So I chose sleep. =) But thanks to raining ktula for providing the best youtube recording of the incident!

Women are Jerks!

Yup! You heard it right. Women are jerks!

Why, you ask? Well, because they are! All the lot of them!

Okay, now before you get your panties all scrunched up, hear me out. Why is it okay for women to proclaim that all men are jerks? If you know you're not a jerk, then you felt insulted, right? Well, when women proclaim all men are jerks, I feel insulted. But why the double standard?

So what prompted this topic? Nothing, really. I was talking with a non-American friend the other day, and he basically said that women have no right to call men jerks, because most of them are jerks themselves. Now, I don't necessarily agree with that remark wholeheartedly. But he went on to tell me that he was a great guy and fell in love with this American girl. They were together constantly. They were nice to each other. They got engaged. But one day, she became a jerk. She started mistreating him, belittling him, and ignoring him. It broke his heart. He broke off the engagement.

In his anger, he wanted to retaliate against women in general. Especially American girls. He set a goal. He was going to just f**k the next 20 girls he asks out and not date them. In less than a year, he actually scored 22. Yeah, keeping score. But the shocker of it all? Even after surpassing the 20 girls, each time he was with a girl, he was still hung up on the one he was engaged to. While bedding a girl, the former fiancé was in his mind. And he still can't get over it today.

I know. It is a bit extreme. And it got me thinking. Men can become bitter because of that one girl. And so can women, because of that one guy. Now, women may not necessarily retaliate in the form of sleeping around with a bunch of guys, but some actually do. The root cause of this is the fear of commitment, and then having to be let down hard after the fact. But some women don't sleep around. They go to the other extreme. They become men-haters. They trap their gal pals to avoid men so that they would have company while avoiding men. Now that, to me, is just as bad as my friend sleeping around with girls. I think.

Where am I going with this? I have no idea. But I just wanted to point out his perspective on this. I may not necessarily agree with his approach to dealing with his pain and anger, but he may have a point there. I just hope I never get let down that badly to drive me into a man-whore. I seriously hope not. But then again, I have a better attitude in life than he does in general. So I may be safe.

Okay, time for early nap time. Tomorrow will be another scorching day here in Oklahoma City. =)

Pig Shit

Yeah. This is all pig shit. We have Dubya at the helms of our presidency, and time and time again he has made us wonder why {and how} he got "elected" in the first place, much less a reelection! So Dubya went to Germany for the G8 (Great Eight) Summit, and instead of talking business like any nation's leader should {after all, we're paying his salary, no?}, he talks about pigs and shit.

Anyway, it's late and I'm tired, so I won't bore you to tears with lengthy words. You can just watch the videos of Bush's pig shit below.

The other white meat {besides Dubya}:


Nah, he is just full of shit:

Apology on Hell

Okay, I apologize. I should not have referred to Oklahoma City yesterday as hell. 102 degrees is not all that bad after all. Why? Because I realized that yesterday was chump change! Actually, Oklahoma City today is hell!

Seriously! If there is hell on earth, I think I may have found it right here in Oklahoma City. I have lived 12 years in the tropical country of Indonesia. I have had long term projects in the summer time in Dallas. Furthermore, I have worked on a project for five months in New Orleans from the peak of summer through the entire hurricane season. And none of those past experiences could ever prepare me for today.

Really! And I thought this was kind of funny and ironic. Across the parking lot from the building I'm currently working at is the Pain Management Center. And they have a sign that tells you the current time and temperature. And it was 116 degrees! How do you manage that kind of pain?!? I have always thought that the saying "It's so hot you can fry an egg on the pavement" was just that, a saying. But I stand corrected.

And of course when I woke up this morning, in my groggy state of mind, I stumbled into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. As I bent over to stick my face in the sink, I see a nasty looking brown spider with long skinny legs and a fat body. Talk about morning wake up calls! That spider did the trick. Thank goodness I have not showered yet, because I pissed over myself.

Seriously! In my weekly travels during the last five years, I have never experienced this rude awakening. Nor the extreme heat. And to top it all off, my former AT&T SIM card does not get any roaming service here in Oklahoma City. {Oddly enough, I had service at Will Rogers World Airport.} I asked Cingular Customer Service, "What's the point of having free roaming on my AT&T national plan, and the promise to AT&T customers during the acquisition that existing customers will not only keep their current service, but enjoy better service?" Of course they couldn't give me an answer other than, "Sorry, you'll just have to switch over to a Cingular SIM card." Which requires a whole new two year contract.

Yeah, this is hell. How am I to survive without phone calls and text messaging for the next four days?

Of course, kidding aside, Oklahoma City is quite interesting. Not a whole lot have changed since I last came here over two years ago for a three day project. It is still a land locked place, with lots of man-made lakes. It sure wasn't nearly as hot when I was last here. But seriously, despite the heat, I know this isn't hell because of its beauty. And unlike Chicago, it only takes you 10 minutes to travel 15 miles as opposed to a freaking hour to go eight miles. You gotta love that!

But answer this one question for me, though. Why is sushi the new culinary rage here now? Did I not just use land-locked as an adjective for Oklahoma? Oh, and what is up with everybody wearing Sooners shirt? Is that like the only brand of clothing store available in all the malls that scatter the city? ;-)

Beautiful Sunday! And I kill for a living...

My my my. I woke up to a wonderful Sunday today. Unfortunately I don't have time to divulge on Sabine and Cesar's wedding last night, but I'm sure you'll read about it sooner or later.

I left my car at Nicholas' place yesterday because that was where all the groomsmen were to convene and get ready for the wedding party bus. But seeing that I was in no shape to drive after the wedding reception, I just went home. And Sunday became a series of good things to come, much to my surprise. Of course I'll have to omit a few good preceding things.

Anyway, I took a cab over to Nicholas' place so I can get my car, right? Well, this is the first time I have ever ridden in a cab driven by the most polite, well-spoken cabbie. It was kind of surreal, considering that he had two cell phones! And he was actually talking on both of them, alternating between the two! Wow, impressive. And when he started talking on the second phone, it prompted me to wear the seatbelt.

As I was tired from the night before, understandably I did not pay much attention to where we were heading. And neither did the cabbie as he was chatting away on the phone. To my surprise, he actually brought to my attention and apologized that he had gone too far, and that he would stop the meter and correct things. He could easily have kept his mouth shut and fixed the problem without my knowledge. Then he continued to surprise me by admitting that he should have paid more attention to the road instead of talking on two phones. And to go the extra mile, when we arrived at the destination, he actually knocked $3 off from the metered fare when he stopped it earlier. All on his own initiative! Damn! I was impressed. I was tired, and already in a good mood, that I wasn't even upset about the extra time wasted. So to reward him for his model citizenry, I gave him a huge tip that not only allowed him to recover the $3! For a moment I was wondering if I really was in a Chicago cab at all! I think all cabbies should look up to this guy. Awesome!

We won't talk about the next things that happened, as they hardly constituted as any positive contribution to the great Sunday. In short, I ran out of time to get ready, my flight to Oklahoma City was delayed, and it was 102 degrees when we got here. What is this place? Hell? Yuck!

So I went to dinner as soon as I checked into the hotel. There were not many quality choices for food at this late hour and close proximity to my hotel, so I went to the Macaroni Grill. Yum. There I was greeted by Nate, who also was my server. I don't know what his mom had taught him, but this kid knew customer service and exactly what to say. Being the only customer present, he actually started up a conversation with me. Noticing my rental car keys, he asked what business I was doing here. My initial response was silence, as I actually did not know what I am doing here either. I was supposed to go to AT&T in Kansas City, but that got cancelled on Friday morning. And my manager called later that afternoon at 16:00 instructing me to book a flight to Oklahoma City and that someone will let me know what's going on and the logistics. So right now, I have no idea who my client is, and what the project entails. But I'm here in Oklahoma City!

But in any case, without skipping a beat during the chirping of the crickets, Nate jumped right back and asked, "So do you kill people for a living? Is that why you can't tell me what your business is here in Oklahoma City?" I don't know about you, but that is hilarious! After a {perceived} long day of flying and being tired, I was really glad to have him as my server. And oddly enough, for his age, he may very well be the best restaurant server I have ever encountered!

Now, seriously. How often do you get an excellent cabbie with proactive honesty? How often do you get excellent service from a high school kid with advanced social skills working as a server at a restaurant? And on top of that, experiencing both on the same day? Strange, right? So yeah, that and a few other things made this a great Sunday. And I am a professional hit man now. =)

What? I miss you too!

It has been 410 days. Since... Yeah. It has been that long. I miss you too. Chi-town some time! =) 41. Let the tears splash all over you.

You know you want me. Because I'm flabulous!

Hmm... Turns out that I shouldn't worry about my pudgy little belly that I typically should have gotten rid of by this time of the year {after continuous eating since Thanksgiving and Christmas}. Forget the six-pack those metrosexuals sport and their tight-fitting clothes. Flab is in again!

The Hartford Advocate reported a week or so ago on this new emerging trend. Supposedly women are now craving real men. Sure, they may still go for those Abercrombie & Fitch type of boys, but those are typically short term {supposedly}. Even CNN Showbiz Tonight had a feature on this very topic and had Kevin O'Keefe, author of The Average American, as a subject matter expert. {As a supplementary feature to the show, CNN had an unscientific poll on this.}

Finally! There is hope for me. If this new trend, which is now the in thing in Hollywood, catches on everywhere, especially here in Chicago, then I just may be in luck in that relationship department. I'll just have to start going to McDonald's for lunch everyday, and wait by the sidewalk next to Ben & Jerry's for that hot skinny girl who can't remember what carbs taste like anymore to desire someone pudgy like myself!

If only... =)

Leave the cooking to me - the 5 second rule

Those of you who have known me over the years know very well that I am extremely particular about cleanliness. Like my need to carry hand sanitizers. Or when I cook, I wash my hands and use paper towels more often than anybody. Or I have to do the dishes separate from the glasses instead of piling them on in the same sink of soapy water.

I clinch at the sight of people preparing ground meat with their bare hands, and then picking up the spatula without washing their hands. Or those people who would wipe off their chicken slim juices on the towel hanging off of the oven door handle, and incidentally use the same towel later on to dry their hands after washing! It simply makes me sick. And that is why I am always wary when I go to someone else's home for dinner. If need be, I'd prefer that the food is cooked before I arrive so I don't witness such culinary faux pas. Trust me, it's not a trust issue. It's me! =)

Then I came upon this WebMD article about the five second rule. {Surely all of you have heard of the five second rule, right?} According to a survey done at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, women were more likely than men to invoke this rule.

What what what?!? In the circle of friends and people I know, aside from outdoor meat grilling activity {which somehow always tie to some sort of manhood}, I am probably the only male person who actually cooks for real. Everyone else is a woman. If survey states that seven in ten women pick up food within five seconds of dropping it, and if I have to pick out the top ten gal buddies who do cook, then I do not even want to know which seven of them will do so. It actually scares the shit out of me! Much like people who don't wash their hands after using the restroom. Like Calli did one fine morning without a bra at Meredith's.

So if you ever invite me over for food, I might just say, "No, thanks!" ;-) Just leave the cooking to me. Ha ha ha! {Of course, the attraction to food always get the better of me though!}

The gods are not happy... I may be without a job!

It is finally time to talk about the landmark milestone in my life that happened weeks ago, now that I actually have some free time. It all started out quite comical, and has now turned slightly ugly. I guess I must not have sacrificed enough rubber chicken to the C e r n e r gods during my five years at C e r n e r. =)

Back in October of 2005, I applied for a job at I B M. Nothing came of it. My friend Larry, who was referring me to I B M, followed up with me on the lead four months later. After reporting that I have not heard from I B M, he took another initiative to get things rolling. Then on April 25 I applied for the same job again. Only this time someone in HR made sure that my application got routed to the right people. Sweet!

20 days later, a Tuesday on May 16, I got a call from someone in I B M for a chat. Pete was not with HR, nor was he a manager. We had a leisurely and lengthy chat about various topics, including personal and non work related stuff. The next day, I got another call from Alfredo, and it was sweet and short. He just wanted to make sure I have talked to Pete the day prior. And that was it. Then on Thursday while I was cooking, I got a call in the evening from David, my current I B M manager. He basically said something to the effect: "I'm preparing for vacation next week, I don't have much time, but this is the dollar amount; do you want the job?"

It wasn't the dollar amount I wanted, and he wasn't negotiating. Feeling that he was getting impatient, I decided to verbally accept. After all, it was significantly more than what C e r n e r was paying, and the job promised less travel. {Actually, it was standard travel for consultants; it was just that C e r n e r had me on the road more than usual for a very long time without reprieve.} Of course, nothing is tangible until things are received in writing, so I did not consider myself as really having a job at I B M yet.

On May 22, I received an email with a soft copy of the offer letter. I responded with some questions needing to be answered before I could give them a written acceptance. Besides, I needed the offer on paper in my hands, which I got the following day from DHL. In the afternoon of May 24, I B M responded stating that they have received my acceptance verbally and it was set in stone, whilst ignoring my questions and concerns and directing me somewhere else. I was a bit surprised by this. But seeing that from I B M's perspective I have committed to the offer, I spent the next many hours crafting up my resignation letter. Now mind you, I have yet to know when I will start at I B M, but it appears that I had a choice between June 19 and 26.

Much later that evening, I submitted my resignation letter to my manager and our HR partner. I had done my research and looked at my employment contract, and voluntarily offered information I was obliged to provide at that time instead of waiting till the exit interview. Namely who my new employer and what my new role would be. Now mind you, as I was hoping for a start date of June 26 because a lot of things were not finalized with I B M yet, I thought that a little more than a month's notice was plenty of courtesy and respect to a company that I have come to call as my other family.

As a result of that courtesy, I was pulled from the French project, and in the time span of just one client in France, I was asked to complete numerous client projects which entailed working through 23 days without a break, while giving up three weekends. That would have left me with not a single day of downtime before I start at I B M. So I negotiated. And luckily, due to IRS rules on FSA, I was able to get the last week knocked off for personal use. Unfortunately, I had to work long days and nights because of Mr. D, which I won't go into any details. Barring Mr. D, that week did turn out to be strangely comical.

After giving over a month's notice on my intent to resign, HR somehow did not realize that I was on the way out. How crazy is that? On June 23, the day before my final business day at C e r n e r, I had sent my HR partner a list of questions. And she did not respond. I had to hunt her boss and HR down the next day to see what was going on, when I should be doing the corporate mandated exit interview, my numerous questions needing to be answered, and so forth. HR did not realize I was leaving, and they scrambled for a last minute exit interview. Ha ha ha. It became apparent that the exit interview would have answered a majority of my questions!

Another thing that was funny? After C e r n e r had known my last date of employment was June 24 for weeks, I got a package in the mail. It was a really, nice anniversary clock, with my name engraved on it. You see, I started at C e r n e r on June 4, 2001. It was just ironic that I left at exactly the final week after my five year anniversary. And on top of that, I got an email stating that I could go out for the night to celebrate my milestone on C e r n e r's dime. So what did I do? I treated Holly and Liz to some good dinner {in light of the string of bad luck Holly was getting}!

The final thing that was funny, or kinda, was that I tried to get in touch with my manager for some parting words and thank him for the time I have had at C e r n e r. The whole week he did not reply to my emails. Yikes! But it was because he was traveling and busy with clients. I definitely wanted to leave on good and high terms. We eventually did get together and talk, well after my official end of my employment at C e r n e r. The kicker? He told me that before I resigned, he was working to increase my below-median pay by $12,000. The only thing was that it would only take effect in the fourth quarter of this year.

To his credit, he was aware of my displeasure with the continued poor pay raises I have been getting the last three annual review cycles. But why was he surprised that I was quitting due to compensation? C e r n e r knew what I was worth, as so do I. Three years of underpaying me is rather a disappointment. Yet I gave every client my full attentntion and care. Unfortunately my manager's hands were tied in when he can increase my pay. Had HR allowed it back in February, I would not have considered leaving. Or would I, since the new raise would still be well under my pay at I B M? I'm just surprised that after I have voiced my concerns over compensation every year, including my not hiding my resume on Monster.com from C e r n e r, that they didn't act on it faster. Oh well. Sometimes it is good to have set policies...

To continue with the theme of not appeasing the C e r n e r gods to satisfactory level, a nasty record thunderstorm hit the Washington, D.C. area on Sunday June 25. Unfortunately, I was to fly into D.C. via Washington Dulles for my orientation at I B M. Of course I did not know about the rain, and thus surprised that my flight was cancelled. Thanks for letting me know that ahead of time, United! {Note the use of sarcasm somewhere in there.} They were going to rebook me for the next "available" flight, which was going to be Monday evening at 18:10. Nice! Why so late? Because I didn't rebook early enough. Wait... Couldn't they have automatically taken care of those passengers who got stranded all of a sudden when they cancelled the flight, instead of waiting till the last minute? What, did they think all those passengers would just up and decide to not go to their destination and stay home instead, all the while not being able to get any kind of refund? Ah, another strike for United in my books. But they should have struck out a very long time ago.

Unfortunately no other airlines had flights available to the D.C. area, including United, which has its major hub in Chicago! I expanded my search to include both Midway and O'Hare, with destinations of Dulles and Reagan. No luck. I was perplexed though, that Southwest was able to fly into Baltimore. So I bought a round trip ticket on my personal expense to fly out to there, all in the name of dedication. Of course I sat at Midway for hours and learned of the ongoing thunderstorm.

When I finally got to Baltimore, there were lines out the wazoo for both the cab wait and rental car companies. I was fortunate enough that it wasn't severe at Hertz. I drove the usual hour long trip into D.C., and boy, did it rain like cats and dogs. I hydroplaned twice along the D.C. beltway whenever I saw a little stream crossing the four lane highway! I thought I was going to die, or at least have a nasty automobile pileup. {It was later on the next day that I saw in the news that eventually several mudslides occurred later and cut off the beltway, and the capitol was inundated with so much water that government business had to cease.} By the time I got to the Hyatt at Fairfax, it was about 03:00 Monday morning. I thought I was the last one to arrive. It turned out that there were others arriving an hour before orientation started at 09:00. Even two people could not get into D.C. till Tuesday afternoon! Wow!

To anyone who is superstitious, all of this would have amounted to harbingers indicating that leaving C e r n e r was a mistake! Ha ha ha. I'd like to think otherwise though. I preferred to think that I merely had not sacrificed enough rubber chicken to the C e r n e r gods during my career there. =)

All fun aside, here is the nasty part. Just this past weekend, I got a FedEx letter from C e r n e r Corporate Counsel dated July 5. It started as such: "It has come to our attention that you have recently resigned from C e r n e r Corporation (‘C e r n e r'), and that you have accepted a position at I B M Corporation (‘I B M'), a company that competes with C e r n e r in certain markets. In the interest of maintaining an amicable relationship, there are a couple of matters I would like to bring to your attention." Wait, what is this sudden attention recently? I thought I gave C e r n e r a month's notice?

Most of the matters were okay and understandable, like trade secrets, client lists, confidentiality, not recruiting C e r n e rites, etc. But this one line item really bothered me: "Also pursuant to your Employment Agreement, you agreed for a period of two (2) years after leaving C e r n e r not to provide services ‘related to your employment at C e r n e r to any Conflicting Organization in the United States or in any country to which C e r n e r has a business interest.' I B M is a Conflicting Organization as defined under the terms of the Employment Agreement..."

Whoa! I can understand about not working for a competitor in the health care IT industry, but their definition of what I cannot do is quite vague. What does that mean? In the order of well-defined to really broad, it could mean: 1) I cannot work for a direct competitor in health care. {Understandable.} 2) I cannot work for any company that deals with C e r n e r proprietary solutions. {Understandable.} 3) Because I worked on C e r n e r systems on the widely used platform of AIX, as well as working on a generally applied high availability solution of HACMP (a product of I B M), I cannot work on any jobs that may involve AIX or HACMP, regardless of industry. {Not understandable.} 4) Because I worked as a consultant, I cannot work for any company that provides IT consulting services. {Not understandable.} 5) Since I worked at C e r n e r as a computer technology guy, my new job cannot involve anything related to technology and computers in general. {Definitely not kosher!}

All of the above five limitations apply to the general definition of anything related to my employment at C e r n e r, right? Damn! If C e r n e r is applying the broadest definition of everything related to my employment at C e r n e r, then I am stuck! What's the point of the original Employment Contract that clearly stated that the employment was purely at-will? Meaning I can leave anytime I want, and they can fire me anytime they want. Not so much at-will, is it now? Sounds more like a chain and ball.

Now I'm in a pickle. So I immediately forwarded this lengthy two page letter, which almost sounded threatening but tone to be determined yet, to my manager. And he is concerned. He has forwarded it on to I B M Legal department. But from I B M's point of view, if this cannot be resolved, one of the following scenarios will happen: 1) Transfer me to another role that does not have anything to do with a broad sense of what I did with C e r n e r {I hope nothing like a desk job answering phones}. 2) Terminate my employment {which I definitely do not hope or wish for!}.

Now I am really hoping that things can be resolved swiftly with ease. I definitely do not want to be without a job, and I don't want to go back to C e r n e r. Yet. I love what I have done for C e r n e r in the last five years, and even more grateful of what C e r n e r has done for me professionally, but as Johnson and Blanchard would have said, having my cheese moved once in a while is good. So if worse comes to worst, maybe I can just go back to school and get my master's degree?

I definitely have no regrets for what I have done the last five years. And I am all the more willing to take chances now and see what happens next. This will be good for me. If not, at least it will be for your entertainment's sake. =)

Where's the Mayo?

If you go to the grocery store for the expressed purpose of getting mayonnaise for your sandwich, where would you go?

While at Dominick's, I saw an aisle with peanut butter and jelly sign. Surely they have mayo there, right? No. So I started walking around aisle after aisle. Then there was the aisle for ketchup and mustard. Bingo! I hit the jackpot. I could see horseradish, tartar sauce, ketchup, 349 kinds of mustard and related products. Except for mayonnaise!

WTF?!? Where does one go get mayonnaise at? Frustration setting in, I decided to walk up and down every single aisle, except for the frozen ones. I doubt they put mayonnaise in the freezer.

Finally! Mayonnaise! Where? At the end of an aisle. Not along the aisle, but the end of the aisle with toilet paper, paper towel, and feminine napkins! Who thought of that?!? I totally saw the relationship in this product group here. Worse yet, they only had one kind of mayonnaise—Hellmann's Original. All in huge bottles. No light; no reduced fat; no fat-free; no small sizes. No Kraft brand either. Great! Now just you watch me get fatter! ;-) {But lunch was extremely yummy though!}

Sling-a-whore Sing!

Oh, where to begin?!? It all started out with not getting enough sleep on Friday night {after the lost Loop incident} and having to wake up at an ungodly hour just so I can run five freaking miles to earn some free pancakes at Momentum. After that, the day became a blur, before realizing that I had to go to Katie and Liz's housewarming / thank-you-for-helping-us-move party. So naturally I was tired by the time I got there.

After tossing back a few Singapore Sling's, I started feeling all the more tired. The night progressed pretty well, and I wasn't drunk for the most part. Until the moment I got super tired and just fell asleep. I remembered everything vividly, including the conversation pieces, up until the moment I was laying on the couch listening to three girls talk about a womanly topic that I just cannot have any input on the subject matter.

I must have dozed off then, because the next thing I remember after that was 02:00 and it was all dark. A few stayed behind, and had just gotten done watching Arrested Development on DVD. So I got up and helped clean up and played with Zeus and his food. Then I crashed on the leather couch. Or was it pleather?

In any case, I had no blanket and it was a bit humid and warm, and when you're kind of glistening, leather can be a real bitch to sleep on, namely the stickiness of it all. So I migrated. And I slept real well with Mr. Bowtie. But I had this dream where someone was slamming doors in the middle of the night and people were out in the hallway arguing real loudly. Have you ever been so tired and sleepy that you're not sure if it was a dream or something that was going on for real, but you just couldn't bring yourself to a full state of awakening to check it out? Yeah, I had one of those. And then I also dreamed of some other strange things, but nothing noteworthy to you.

So I woke up pretty early today and took off as it was getting a bit loud. And I'm still in a daze, and the day has gone by pretty quick. I guess I can pat myself in the back for actually doing my dishes after leaving them sit in the sink for three long weeks! Yup! I had dishes from before I started working at I B M. Ha ha ha. Now the only remaining chores I have to complete before the end of the night is to get a shower and do the laundry. Ugh. I have four loads.

Okay, the moral of the story is that I don't think I will have myself any more of the sling-a-whore sings, or more appropriately known as Singapore Sling's. They don't get me drunk during the drinking stage. They just knock me down on my ass without warning like those delayed release pills or something. =) Why? Because judging from the pictures on my camera, I was still doing stuff after the girly conversation! And I definitely do not remember posing for a few pictures either!

Summer in Chicago

Ah... It is the peak of summer time here in Chicago. {And much of the rest of the northern hemisphere, for that matter.} What I love about summers in Chicago is the bountiful street and neighborhood festivals. Kickass!

But I do hate one thing about summer fests. And Toothpaste for Dinner couldn't have drawn it better than my words can describe this one thing I hate:

Lessons Learned

Okay. Another quickie and yet not a life update. I'll get on it shortly. I promise.

Today, I decided to go to I B M and work there instead of from home. I had plans to go to Castaways with some friends to catch the U2 cover band Elevation and down some beers at 20:00 as we say goodbye to Lauren's spleen. Well, it is only 22:10 right now and I'm blogging. What happened? Lemme show ya!

09:00 – Got off of Bus 147 at the Wrigley Building on Michigan Ave. Even though I was really confused about the fact that the address was something like 71 Wacker Dr, which is a street south of the river, I knew that the I B M building was next to the two round towers by House of Blues, which is north of the river.

09:15 – Called my new friend/coworker Tom to find out where the heck I B M was. Learned pretty quick that Wacker Dr has a West portion, an East portion, and a South portion. I never knew Wacker Dr went northerly/southerly. Then it dawned on me that if I continue driving on Wacker Dr, it will actually extend further south! Duh!

09:20 – Decided to look at one of those tourist maps along Michigan Ave and realized that 71 S Wacker Dr is freaking far away from where I was. So I began the great hike.

09:40 – Finally arrived at I B M, all nice and sweaty.

10:00 – After talking to Tom, went up to the seventh floor to grab myself a Mobility cube. Learned shortly thereafter that any cube with 7### is on the seventh floor, and any cube which I selected like 8### is on the eight floor.

11:40 – Went to lunch with Tom and his coworker. Saw the Chicago Mercantile Exchange across from the I B M building while walking to lunch, and thought, "Hey, that's where Aarthi works! Cool! I must be right by Kinzie Street Chop House! Sweet!"

19:30 – Finally got done with work and left. Thinking that I could just hop on the Brown line right by Mercantile Exchange, I started walking. I tried to get around the Mercantile Exchange building, but all I could see was a freaking river and no elevated platform for the Brown Line. I became dazed and confused but continued walking anyway.

19:45 – Got to the Chicago Union Station and realized that I am nowhere near where I need to be, so I turned around and walked aimlessly.

20:00 – Finally saw an elevated platform and got on it. It turned out to be the Washington/Wells platform. Was still perplexed as to why I couldn't see Kinzie Chophouse underneath the platform. So I looked at the CTA map. DAMN! Learned that the Chicago Mercantile Exchange is *NOT* the Merchandise Mart. They are two distinct buildings! I repeat. NOT. THE. SAME.

20:10 – Saw the pink train for the first time. Cool. But also learned that the Brown line goes counterclockwise and the Purple and Orange goes clockwise. Realized that I should have walked further east to the Washington Red line station, which was only four blocks away.

20:20 – Got on the Orange line to Clark, then hopped on the Brown line to Fullerton to catch the Red line. Mentally beat myself for not walking all the way to the Red line station.

21:50 – Got home. Feeling tired and not in the mood to catch the train/bus to Castaways. Besides, Elevation would be done playing by the time I get there anyway.

21:55 – Reflection time. I realized that after living in Chicago for two years, I have no sense of direction nor the clue of the area known as the Loop! I can't even tell you if Madison is north or south of Monroe. And Wacker Dr is more than a three block long street near the now defunct Sun Times building. How shameful is that? And I got lost looking for the hard-to-miss elevated tracks that only surround a small area of downtown Chicago!

How comical is that? I must be living a real Three Stooges life! =)

An Extra in the Movie?

I guess I've been extremely swamped with my new job at I B M that I have not blogged in a very long while. This is going to be short, and not an update with how things are going for me at I B M. A life update will be coming shortly.

Anyway, today I went and ran the Momentum Fire Academy Fun Run 2006. Apparently Momentum have just relaunched their website, and somewhere dug in there is a video of the 2005 Fire Academy Run. All my friends have seen it. But me. So what do I do as soon as I got home? Look it up.

Like a freaking overly excited kid who somehow got into a movie as an extra, I looked for any little bit of appearance I made. And glorious me! I had 12 cameos! Right on! So here they are, just for pure stupidity's {and mildly fun and entertainment's} sake. {Oh, I couldn't figure out which one to choose for my eleventh appearance, so I included both! =) }