Because of the wonderful things he does
I like to be right.
I don't know, maybe it seems self-evident, but it never hurts to point out the obvious. I really
like to be right, and since it doesn't happen very often, it's a special treat. But I was right about Corinne Bailey Rae
, who was just on Leno and did a very nice job. And she's cute too, so I figure I'm right. For more evidence of my continued correctness, tune into Tinyhands Radio.
In other news, I pulled my credit report today and encourage you (Americans)
to do the same. Despite advertising to the contrary, there is really only one website approved by the FTC to get your credit report, www.annualcreditreport.com
. I selected a report from only one of the reporting agencies and intend to go back in a couple of months to get another (still free!)
report from one of the other agencies. (Note: Not only is this only for Americans but you must be accessing the website from a US IP address. Otherwise you'll have to call or write.)
I didn't find any blantant errors on my credit report, but there are a few things still on there from my marriage for which I filled out a "dispute" form to clarify. The whole thing is pretty simple and fairly self-explanatory, but feel free to contact me if you would like complementary, confidential assistance.
Hmmm, I thought I had a third thing for today. I think I was thinking of something along the lines of advice to "be what you want to be, do what you want to do" but it's not like you need me to tell you that or my permission. Go on and be happy with your bad self (a good thing)
. Also, I had lunch with a nice woman last week only to find that this
week she has quite literally fled the country. True story.
Can I get a witness?
I'm back. Back from where? Back to what? A guy has got to have some secrets.
You're probably disappointed that I don't have a great story to tell. I should probably make one up. Ok, I drove to the Port of New Orleans where my Russian bride was coming off of a cargo ship. No, that's not it. Umm, how about the one where I met a nice girl on a new dating site, littlepeopleinlove.com, and we went to Vegas and got hitched with her standing on a stack of phone books? (Yeah, that's borderline offensive but more appealing than the actual woman I was seeing whose voice sounded like the Welch's grapejuice girl.)
I've got it: I've been playing the HGTV drinking game, where every time someone says "clean, simple lines" you do a shot and I wound up in the hospital with a BAC higher than my GPA.
As I explained to Meg at the Stuckey's near mile-marker 15, I'm a bit of a curiosity to all who know me.
She showed me her trailer, then her tattoos and how one of them appears to talk when she does this thing with her hips. When I tell you that I hit that, I'm talking about the road.
I'm coming to you live from an undisclosed location. I'm not having as much fun as I thought, primarily due to Roadtrip Rule #1- Have a destination in mind.
Houston skyline in my mirror
[photo taken with my Moto RAZR (for you, Beth)]
This is an actual, unedited, un-staged photo I took with my phone recently...
Yet another reason to flee.
Get ready little lady. Hell is coming to breakfast*
If this is the summer doldrums, I'm not going to make it until the autumn, and it's not even summer yet. I'm not just talking about the heat, I mean the hiring cycles that many companies seem to go through. I can only burn so many days at the mall, even though I love the pianists at Neiman's. I can only take so many naps. I can only watch so much TV. I can only eat so many tots.
I think I am
going to get out of here. Next week I'm getting in the car and driving somewhere else. I don't know where I'm going, though either New Orleans or Corpus Christi are high on the list. I know I'm not going as far as Chicago, my original road-trip destination, but I am freaking the fuck out and blowing this pop stand.
It's gotten to the point where I'm not really sleeping anymore. Last week was really bad, so I did what I usually do and turned on the TV. I watched The Terminal
. Some interesting things in that movie, such as a beautiful woman who loves a man who is both figuratively and literally a reject. Ultimately the beautiful woman rejects the nice guy and goes back to the guy who cheats on his wife. Interesting life-art convergence there. Fortunately Full Metal Jacket
was on after that and I slept like a baby.
I'm not sure how this figures into it, but I dreamt about my ex-wife a few nights ago. I should point out that I don't remember most of my dreams, so I guess the fact that I still remember this one is significant. Also, my dreams aren't usually anything like watching TV, with a plot and/or dialogue. Many of my dreams aren't even linear, skipping around the action from one idea to another. And always in black & white. But anyway, the theme of this particular dream was just holding her tightly in my arms, seated upright in my big leather chair. Nothing sexual about it, which isn't odd because I never even had sexual dreams about her when we were together. Of course, I woke up depressed and had to come up with a punchline in case I decided to retell the story to someone else. In the retold version I am still holding her ... underwater.*Double-extra-bonus points (and my admiration, or some shit like that) if you know who said that.
I know I'm losing my grip on reality when I stop talking to myself. I must have thought something terrible recently and now I'm getting the silent treatment. For someone like me, who likes to talk, the silent treatment is torture along the lines of Chinese Water Torture. Chinese water torture is the one where you get diarrhea, right? No, that's Montezuma's Revenge. Nevermind.
Neither of the roofers who were scheduled to show up today showed. I'm down to two finalists, competing for the honor of getting about 5000 of my dollars, and they've both completely blown the interview competition. I don't really care about the talent portion, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't eager for the evening wear. And this isn't a pagent, it's a scholarship
I went to the mall again today. I put a couple of albums on the mp3 player and walked around a bit. I checked out the sales. I checked out the salesgirls. Pity I can't afford either. My luck at the mall has improved considerably though, since on the last two trips I've seen VERY pretty women. Like the last one, this one wasn't hot in the conventional sense, but boy was I attracted to her. She was dressed quite nicely in a skirt and heels, and since I like the girly-girls (not so much the tomboys)
it was ON. I've never done this before, but I actually turned a 180 and followed her for a bit. Ok, that's creepy. Let's say I didn't. Nevermind.
I'm not Spanish Fly, I'm Cossack Fly*
I may actually go through with my threat to buy myself a mailorder Russian bride. Not content with the women I've been meeting here, I guess I've just been too picky. Insisting on a woman with whom I share a common language or nationality is just plain greedy. The pain of yet another job rejection, on the other hand, is eased by instant love in my inbox:
*Other considered titles:
Greetings! Let me to be submitted. My name-Tatyana. I loved your history and I wanted to get acquainted with you! To me of 29 years, I Russian. I work as the trainer in fitness the center. I love work, nevertheless I love jokes And I love laughter, I adore adventures. I the good girl, but beauty not The most important in a life. I estimate the person for his ideas and actions. I Have correct and romantic character! I believe in destiny and I like to Dream of the beautiful future with the person of my dream! If you want to answer such person, I with pleasure Will apply a photo in my ambassador of the letter. I wait your sincere letter. Tatyana.
(Actual unedited email)
-It's not jungle-fever. I've got gulag-fever.
-Your daddy is a thief for stealing the czars from the sky...
-Thank God for the fall of the Eastern-Cock-Bloc.
-Quit Stalin and just do me.
It's late, I'm tired, and I don't really feel like talking to you right now, but I wanted to leave something else up for the weekend, so I had a couple of brief thoughts.
1) Thinking about this subject today, I found this quote: "The search for happiness is one of the chief sources of unhappiness." --Eric Hoffer
2) I think you should take a lot of photos of yourself. That way, if you become an actor later in life, it's easier to have photos of your character as a younger person.
I forgot to mention that May's entry titles were inspired by one of my favorite SNL commercials of all time, Happy Fun Ball
. Do not taunt Happy Fun Ball.
*bunch of stuff deleted*
This is the second time I've tried to write the story of a woman I saw at the mall last week. I can't describe it without it getting tedious, so I'll just leave it to say that she was beautiful without being HOT, which I found all the more attractive. Without having spoken a word to her nor heard the melody of her voice, I can honestly say she was the nicest woman I've ever seen.
No more silly titles. That's so May.
Today I interviewed for a position at one of the world's biggest and most evil oil services and construction companies. I think it's a good fit for me, since I didn't spend 2.5 years in evil business school for nothing, you know.
On a daily basis I write down little bits of thoughts into my notebook so that I'll remember to blog about them late at night. A few days ago I wrote, "the one thing keeping me from becoming a serial killer..."
I know there was supposed to be a funny punchline, but now I'm worried since I can't remember what that one thing is.