This is going to be a quick one today, as we’re loading up and moving out to a different part of the state in a few hours.
I am a whale–The past two weeks of careless eating and beer drinking have turned me into sloppy mess. This is compounded by living at my mom and dad’s house for the past four days. Mom still rules the kitchen and I neither can or want to say no. Regardless, I may have to join a friend in a weight loss challenge before the end of next week. Why? Well, we’re going to my old college town this afternoon where I expect to drink more beer and eat, at the bare minimum, an entire Shakespeare’s pizza. At first, I was mildly worried about showing up in front of my old college friends as a fat ass. Then I remembered I was a slovenly, beer-drinking, beer-gutted guy in college, too. So, chances are I’ll hear, “Why you haven’t changed at all in the last 12 years!”
Oh, who am I kidding?–More gray hair, less overall hair, and wrinkles are all a part of how I’ve changed in the past decade-plus since I left ol’ Mizzou. It’s all part of the game, though, so I’ve accepted it as much as I can.
Oh, who am I kidding? (redux)–I haven’t accepted it at all. Apart from declining to use Just for Men or get plastic surgery (an actual kind suggestion from my wife the other day), I am exceptionally vain. I have some disorder.
[Right after I typed the last sentence, I was called to breakfast upstairs. On the table: French toast, scrambled eggs, thick-cut bacon, grilled ham, and fried potatoes. I ate a lot]
Caveman–Around five years ago, I started growing facial hair. A few months later, I settled on the Van Dyke I wore for much of the next half-decade. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been playing around with full beards, simple goatees, and light stubble. A couple of days ago, I shaved my face completely for the first time since March 2005. I immediately hated the way I looked, gave myself one more day to be sure, and immediately put the razor on light duty. I need professional help.
I got mine–Tomorrow I expect to see my old friend Ben who, at the suggestion he start working out in college (not that he ever needed to), looked up and said, “Why? I got mine.” He was already engaged to his sweetheart (now his wife and mother to his child). The rest of us didn’t have ours yet and hence, spent a little more time at the gym (although I think I sweated away a grand total of six months in college and never really got in shape). Now, however, I’ve got mine. I don’t think she is–or at least I hope she is not–going anywhere. So, I could conceivably just let myself go, do whatever I want, and put on 100 pounds. Maybe it’s my love for her that keeps me for doing so.
Or the fact I am mildly insane and have a vanity disorder.
Moving on…–We bought our Missouri Tigers tickets at the beginning of the season. Since then, the tigers have looked like they could win the national championship. Then they looked like thy could at least salvage a BCS bowl. Now, because I’m showing up tonight, they look like they did back when I was in college. It’s good to know some things never change.
Calling all reality producers–I don’t know many Hollywood types. What’s more, I probably dislike reality television more than I dislike getting kicked in the stomach. That said, I was on a walk a few days ago when I came up with a sure fire reality show hit. It’s millions in the bank. This is an idea I’m not giving away. Unlike…
An idea I am probably giving away…–Seriously, somebody smart tell me why Apple hasn’t partnered with Detroit (or Japan) and started installing dashboard versions of the iPod. It is terribly simple to produce and would only require taking your laptop iTunes to the car, running a cable out to the dash, uploading your entire iTunes library, and then having dashboard control of all your music. I mean, who wouldn’t want their entire iTunes library in their car without actually having their iPod there?
Corporate life–While someone at my client’s company is away getting married, I’m trying to handle some leftover accounting issues that’s aren’t really part of my job. There were several unpaid invoices I had to send to accounting. One has been sent back to me four times now. First I had to fill out a supplier form, then a purchase order, then an accounting code. This morning it was sent back again requesting the country code and department code. I miss the days where somebody said, “I need money” and we handed them three $1,000 chips and bought them a beer.
Game ruiners–Based on the first few comments in the last post, everyone else knew about butter sculpting before I did. And yeah, those were pork rinds.
Unpurgable–These Friday Mental Massages are supposed to be the time I get rid of everything in my head in an attempt to have a good weekend. I have a list of at least four more things I can’t get off my noodle. They will have to wait until next week. For now, I gotta pack for Columbia. (Special note to anyone who will be up there…we’re tailgating at noon on top of the Hitt St. garage on Saturday. Otherwise, I’ll be around the old haunts. I’ll be the chubby guy with a one-day growth of stubble on his chin.)