July 2004

The apartment has been stripped down to its most basic elements for the big move on Saturday. Everything was sorted into categories as we packed and what couldn’t be classified into one box or another was simply trashed. Yet there’s still so much to move. There’s a couch, TV stand, desk, arcade machine, and two hutches on top of the 10-15 boxes or other movable in every room. Luckily, there will be about 10-12 of us involved with the move and I’m actually looking forward to a good workout for the day. For those who aren’t exactly excited about the moving gig, I’ll be springing for dinner and drinks at Bahama Breeze afterwards and a movie after that.

We’ve already shut off the phone and scheduled our electric and cable for cancellation on Saturday, and we’re shuttling the the cats over to the new place the night before. The only variable besides the odds and ends that sit unpacked (about four boxes worth) is the truck, and as soon as soon as I’m able to pick it up we can set in motion the smoothest move in history.

I just took the quickest dump in my life. Nice and clean. I was in and out of there before the guy in the next stall knew what happened. It makes me wonder if I forgot something, though I hope to hell not.

I really should hit the sack since I’m getting up early to run tomorrow, but I forgot to post pictures from the past two weeks’ worth of parties like I promised myself. Well, here they are.

Dia and a few other people have told me my pictures are too small and even clicking on them doesn’t make them large enough. I disagree. As long as people can make out who’s in them and what’s going on, I’m satisfied. I always made sure I kept the highest resolution versions for myself, a digital negative if you will; but after finding one of my photos on another site once I lowered the quality even further. (And it was this lame shot, of all things.) I’m not all that proprietary where snapshots are concerned but I’m not going to give it up too easily either.

Sean opted out of Quizo tonight for a baseball game and dropped the ball when it came to ordering the rest of us tickets, so we’re without our star player tonight. The irregulars like Nathan and Ross came last time so they won’t show for another few weeks. Finally nearly-nevers Tom and April are in San Diego and Blumberg moved up to northern New Jersey when he graduated.

Now I’m left without Wednesday night plans and fielding all sorts of ideas to fill the gap. I’ll still visit the gym and visit my grandparents, but what then? I stay in and watch television on Mondays and Thursdays, and I’d rather not have that be the case for tonight as well. Tim suggested getting better tickets than Sean for tonight’s game from scalpers, but even worse tickets would be extremely pricey. Dia want’s to go out for Morrocan or Indian food but that doesn’t exactly jive with healthy eating, or at least the the style I’m trying to mantain.

Maybe if I knew more people in the city who stayed up late or liked playing games (the two are mutually exclusive most of the time) I’d have the solution to our problems. As it’s starting to look now, I might be driving the sixty miles from work to Philly for exotic food I can’t eat.

Got the usual suspects coming over to watch Big Brother tonight. The place is in a messy, half-packed state but the couch is clear and that’s all that matters. So the more the merrier. I even invited my sister to come over since she appears to have little going on during the week and watching television is common ground for most people save for a few snobs; tonight was bad for her though, so maybe next week.

It’s too bad I chose BB night to force myself back into the workout groove. Merely watching what I eat isn’t an option, so I’ll be hitting the gym for an hour beforehand and hopefully people won’t show up too early. But it’s time to get serious about fitting into that wet suit Labor Day weekend. I want to be able to show Rudy off without looking like a fatass.

Completing a trifecta of productivity tonight, I hope to post pictures from the past few weekend parties. I’ve been so busy procrastinating that I forget to take time and smell the manure.

I’ll take credit for this winning team name even though Nathan brought up the subject and I can’t recall exactly who pinpointed it as a good choice. However, talking for twenty minutes straight like a jackass while Nathan, Kim, and Dia stood around mum was pretty grueling. But I’d be damned if I was going to wait until 9:55 p.m. to start thinking about names, and it paid off.

The lesson of the evening was to listen to Nathan, as he knows what the hell he’s talking about. And no matter how many times Kim says “You don’t have faith in me?”, make her support her arguments with fact. They were the same errors we have every week, going with the consensus of loud people while the knowledgeable ones sit quietly then say “I said that”. People have to learn that it doesn’t count unless you fought to get your answer on the sheet.

How long could a pet last in the microwave? I used to wonder about this when I was in high school and now that I have cats it crosses my mind every so often. Our birds would probably have zapped right away since they have so little liquid inside them already, but does that necessarily mean a cat would last any longer?

Fortunately, when I start to picture any sort of pet bubbling, I get really sad and wonder how I could be thinking about such a thing in the first place. My curiosity has never manifested itself in any way; I haven’t found myself with one hand on the microwave door or anything like that. I just spend five seconds here or there picturing just how awful it would be before I chide myself for being such a sicko — even if it was for only a few seconds.

I think of how easy it would be for someone to give into their psychopathic tendencies if they didn’t have that second reflex reminding them how evil it would be. All it takes is a missing emotion and pets would be getting zapped all over the place. It’s a good thing my curiousity is tucked neatly away underneath a love for animals, otherwise I could see myself treating some of them no better than bugs.

Yeah, it feels good to be blogging again.

In the interest of straightening up around here I plan on scanning anything I can and trashing the original, starting with my tattoo project. Here they are from initial concept to skin.

I was pretty pissed off when I found out there was no message on my answering machine saying my glasses were ready. After spending the week in my sunglasses with an increased susceptibility to headaches, I wasn’t looking forward to the longest, most irksome three-day weekend ever. I called the doctor’s office to say as much, though politely, and it paid off — they offered me a free pair of contact lenses for the weekend since I’d been inconvenienced for so long.

It turns out to be one of the best ideas I’d heard in a long time. I was literally right around the corner when they suggested I stopped by, the Doc measured my eyeballs, and I only had to wait in the waiting room for ten minutes before they had the lenses ready. I watched two videos as a refresher course, popped them in, and was on my way 45 minutes from the time I set foot in the office.

Necessity drove me to try the damn things again, and boy was it a blast from the past. I found myself squinting for the first two hours; it’s involuntary when I don’t feel eyeglasses on my face. Once or twice I also caught myself in the usual habit of adjusting my non-existent frames. By the time I drove home from Chris and Lisa’s apartment, I would have completely forgotten I was wearing them had I not been dreading what came next.

Getting them out was always the hard part for me. Doing the eyelid-stretching thing to pop my gas permeable contacts off my cornea was a nightmare for two miserable years of my life. I’d get nervous about any near-eye activity and as soon as I started to sweat I could kiss another 10 minutes of my life goodbye — you need dry hands to pull that maneuver and I was a sweaty, greasy piglet.

Tonight wasn’t much better as far as phobias go. Even eye drops give me the willies, and since the technology has improved over the years I had direct contact eyeball-pinching to look forward to. I tried a dozen different ways, from squeezing them right on top of my pupil to even trying to wedge a fingernail under the lens and prying it off. It took me about 30 minutes to finally get it right, but boy did it feel fantastic. I just stood there and rubbed my eyes for a while, and now that I have time to actually contemplate putting these things on tomorrow I’m nervous again. Better get to bed before I have time to psych myself back into that pair of sunglasses.

Just got back from a small BBQ/game night at Dave’s house and boy am I tired. This is the third night in a row I’ll be getting fewer than six hours of sleep, but it was worth it. Even though it went a bit long, I think Wildlife was a hit. It’s not going to be the next Settlers of Catan or anything but it’s my new favorite, and I’ll gladly induct a few more newbies if they ever get the itch so we’re all up to speed to play a game where we there’s less guesswork.