2/10/08

Who's Got The Wax

The company I work for offers massages 3 days a week.

Pretty Nice!!

Last week I decided that I would get a massage as my back was feeling a bit tight. I went into the Outlook Calendar and signed up for an upcoming appointment.

The next day my supervisor awkwardly approaches me while I am using the urinal and asks if I had in fact signed up for a massage?

"Uh, (still peeing mind you) yeah, actually I did sign up for one. My back has been a little tight lately and I figured I would..."

He interrupts me while I am still peeing.

"Actually Matt, you signed up for a wax."

Still peeing.

"Oh, no I must of..."

He interrupts me again.

"Eh, I'm just letting you know."

He walks out and I stop peeing.

2/4/08

I always wanted to be Superman



So today I met with some prospective clients (yeah I do work and use words like client and prospective, though not always in that order) and the meeting went well. There were about seven individuals in the room, myself and my fellow employee being two of them. When the meeting concluded we made polite small talk, shook hands, scheduled our next meeting and were making our way out the door when one of the females in the room stopped me and said "I just have to say, has anyone ever told you that you look just like Christopher Reeves?"

Attached is the comparison. Perhaps she was onto something?

1/22/08

Mmmm-Mmmm-Mmmm

The other night I was tailing another car on my way home. Not tailing as in I was tight on his bumper, tailing as in behind this car and we both travelled along the same road, he in front of me and me behind him. As we approached an intersection, following a bend in the road, he put on his left blinker and moved into the left hand turn lane. This was indicated on the tail end of the curve and as he began moving left I accelerated to pass him as I continued straight. However, as I moved in next to him he decided that he wasn't going to turn left and moved back into the lane. I swerved to the right.

My adjustment wasn't erratic, but it was deliberate. The sharp curve not quite completed, my back end fish-tailed. I lost control and slammed into a pole going close to 40 mph. Once I hit the pole I did an approximate 720. My air bags deployed and I spun into the middle of the intersection. The only other car within eyesight continued driving and never returned.

My car is officially totaled. It will never see a road again. I was lucky enough to walk away from the crash with little damage inflicted to myself personally.

The crazy thing about the whole experience, though, is that as I continue to replay the scenario over in my head again and again, I find that a part of me wants to experience it again. It was a total rush. I was an official crash test dummy.

disclaimer: I can only afford to destroy one car so it looks like the next time will have to wait.

12/3/07

Baby Diego


A re-telling of the events as they were told to me. Not for the faint of heart.

My sister has three boys, the middle child being 3 1/2. The little group of mothers my sister socializes with (you know, drink Starbucks, talk about shopping and how their children are different and yet the same) decided to have a large group birthday party for a few of the children whose birthdays were relatively close in date. So before you know it, a 12 child birthday party has been organized. The mothers are all given different roles, some playing bigger roles than others, and everything is going to be a real hoot.

The day arrives and the mothers and their children congregate at the nature center where they've rented out a private room for the party. Snacks and toys in hand, toddlers between the ages of 3 to 5 all show up for what should be an afternoon of good times.

They start the day off with a light nature walk, a few of the mothers staying behind to get the party prepped for when the children return. Soon they come streaming back in, wound up from the cool autumn breeze and building anticipation of the party to come. They come running to the balloons and the colors and the presents and the food. Then, one mother who has recently moved to the United States from India brings out her big surprise, a life size Baby Diego pinata.

Now for all of you unaware of Baby Diego, he is a popular character amongst toddlers and small children around the country who gets into whacky adventures and teaches life lessons. This group of children in particular happen to be in love with Baby Diego.

The sight of this very impressive replica of their favorite character sends the group into hysterics. The children are screaming in delight as he looks them all square in the eye. Many are still to young to discern that this is not in fact a real walking and talking Baby Diego.

"HOIST UP DIEGO" yells the mother as another amazingly naive one throws a rope over the ceiling banister and yanks the end in her hands toward her waist. The rope end attached to the shoulders of sweet Baby Diego becomes taut and our hero is swiftly elevated above the raised hands of his adoring fans.

"DIEGO!!" they squeal with glee.

A few mothers exchange concerned glances as Diego swings in front of them and their children, the rope end disappearing behind his head. In all this innocent joy, something doesn't quite seem...

"Who wants to go first?" a commanding and shrill voice beckons to the anxious crowd of youngsters.

"I WILL" hollers the future army vet of the group. The kids are wild with excitement while the mothers become rigid, unaware why this growing anxiety is bubbling up inside of them.

WHACK!!

Spinning round and round goes Baby Diego attached to the rope behind his head.

WHACK!!

Suddenly the screams grow more intense as what were once joyous squawks begin to transform into echoing cries. "Mommy" yells one of the younger girls as she runs to a distressed mother who now shoos her little girl out of the party room

WHACK!!

And off comes innocent Baby Diego's legs. More cries... panic begins to ensue. What did Baby Diego do? Why are we hurting him? One child begins to hit another child for no foreseeable reason. More children and their mothers being to leave the party room. Despite the missing appendages, Baby Diego's candy filled intestines remain intact.

"Perhaps the children are upset because there is no candy" thinks the mother who thought up this most clever idea. She now releases the far end of the rope to allow Baby Diego to come crashing to the ground. More screams. More panic. She grabs the bat from the unphased future Navy Seal and begins to beat Baby Diego herself. Diego standing a good three inches taller than some of the smaller children in the room.

"WHY!?!"

Her futile attempts to crack open the precious Diego leave her frustrated so she soon turns to the table and grabs the pair of scissors left glistening in the mid afternoon sun. With a sudden and swift stroke, she raises and then plunges the scissors into Baby Diego's expressionless head and the party and the shrieks and the chaos reach its pinnacle.

The insides spill onto the floor. No child goes for the candy except the tiny Tony Soprano filling his pockets and mouth with delight. The party winds down and belongings are gathered. Quick glances are stolen as judgement is passed from one regretful mother to the next. What happened? How did it go so wrong?

And thus was the slaying of Baby Diego.

11/8/07

Updated

Since my last post:

Robert Goulet passed away
The Browns won 3 games in a row
San Diego practically burned to the ground
I had a bizarre blind date

Let's talk of the final event. Went on a blind date. It was a work associates friend and I like the work associate. She is married and I have met her husband as well. He is Chinese and told a very funny story where the President and CEO of his nationwide company came up to him and informed him that had recently hired another Chinese male in their San Fransisco office.

"Perhaps you know him?" he says.

I don't need to comment

-------------------------------------

So it starts out at a Halloween party in which I attended as the very unorginal "dick in a box". I filled my box up with blow-pops and hershey kisses and competed against 4 others for the right to distribute my 'goods'. Regardless, my date shows up as nothing. LAME. She is 4'11". I will admit she was attractive, but after long I found that a conversation with her only progressed into a 'who ever is talking louder gets the floor' type forum. That is all fine, I am far from perfect.

From the Halloween party we went to a private party that was being held by a 3rd string Browns player and upon entering soon discovered we represented the entire minority. Needless to say I was wearing a rented suit and had a box on my crotch and felt compelled to go to the dance floor and shake it. I think that lasted for a song and a half before being informed we were leaving. I don't think it was me.

From there my work associate's husband suggested we get some food and took us to a Chinese restaurant at 2:00 am. It was also a Karaoke night and the place was filled with about 30 drunk Chinese singing Chinese songs. We ate our meals. It was delicious. I had a large box attached to my crotch and sunglasses on throughout my meal. The atmosphere couldn't have been more spectacular.

Finally, we went back to my work associates brother's apartment who lived nearby. It was established that I could spend the night on the couch. Since I wasn't driving and the group seemed lively enough I figured it a fine idea. However, upon arriving at the apartment I soon found out my work associate and her Chinese husband owned two Chiwawas (?). If anyone has ever come in contact with these little whipper snappers, they are not pleasant and extremely protective. So once the night wound down and I cozyed up on my couch, the dogs decided they needed to guard against the one person in the place they didn't know (ie. me). I fell asleep and woke up to these two dogs growling in my face.

As I stared at these dogs I figured that this must be why people don't go on blind dates.

10/10/07

Crunch Time

In order to feign competence at my new job I must pass a practical next week that I am somewhat concerned about. First off, the material is something that is new to me and I have had a very short time to learn it. Those dang-fangled computers.

I am confident enough I will pass, but in the past week and a half the level of information and pace at which it has been delivered has sped up considerably. Sort of a pledgeship type initiation, all employees tell their horror stories about (in this sitation we'll refer to it as ACF training) their ACF2 training, which is far more difficult than the already completed ACF1. Now, of course fearing I will be 'that guy' who doesn't pass their 10 hour practical (seriously, this thing is no joke) I have become a bit anxious over the test.

This leads me into the real subject of my post today which is a member of my seven person class who just so happens to sit right next to me. Her name is Kim, that is real, and I might strangle her. In my class is a lawyer, a 29 year veteran of NASA, a former IT manager at the Cleveland Clinic and other professionals with respectable careers behind them and then there is this 33 year old woman spinning around in her chair singing "weeeee" in the middle of class. She clucks and mumbles all day long, asks disruptive questions and, I have come to discover, is quite delusional. When certain topics of the days' teachings become unclear to me, this 6 year old with a driver's license doesn't help my situation out any. I have come to rant on this site, my good readers, because I can't do it anywhere else, I am still the new guy. This test will be over a week from today and I will pass it, but I swear Job aint ever known suffering like this.

Thanks for listening (or reading in this instance) and I will keep all of you updated on the most recent happenings as they come. I apologize for my recent lack of minutes on the site as this has been eating up much of my free time. I will let all of you know how the test turns out, but if I don't pass this thing I am going to put hundreds of ketchup and mustard packets under Kim's tires.

10/2/07

Food For Thought

I love eating Klondike bars while watching "Biggest Loser".

Mr. Feeble

Mr. Feeble
Tasty