Last Saturday after work I decided to stop by the video store to pick up a movie. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, nothing worth watching is out right now and anything that is probably sucks, I'm looking at you Transformers. I started with the new releases, but again found nothing, until this came in to view. Something about this cover told me I had to rent it. It looked like just another Japanese sci-fi action flick from the back, and I didn't really feel like thinking so I picked it up and brought it to the counter. Both of the helpful dorks at the counter told me that I'm "going to love it." and that they have been waiting "for over two months, for this to get here." Like I said, they were dorks. After I exchanged a few awkward high-fives with those dudes, I headed home, took Assy-face (Voltron's dog) out to pee, lit a few candles and fired up the Daewoo DVD player.
Holy shit.
5 minutes into it I realized what had drawn me to this movie. It was a live action re-make of an Anime OVA that I haven't seen in close to 15 years. Suddenly, I was that pimply face tween dork all over again, transported back to one of the most strange times in my life. A time between my oblivious carefree childhood, my adolescence and drawn out puberty. It was a time where I wanted to continue to be a boy, but forces beyond my control were driving me to become the man-boy I am today. I'd like to ask you to jump into my little time machine internet, as I whisk you away to the age of my own tragic innocence.
Imagine a boy, five feet tall (maybe), and 80 lbs soaking wet (definitely). He is probably the goofiest bipedal thing you can think of. Wildly curly hair, and eyebrows to big for his face. His teeth are crooked, and they will eventually take 3 years to correct. Clothing is not much of concern to him because he probably wears the same pair of jeans and the same shirt everyday, until his mother tears it from his body, and he must figure something else out. His chief concerns at the moment are cartoons, comics, video games, and Marvel cards. School, music, women, he cares for these not. He has a large group of friends but only a few of them share his true interests. This boy is me, age 12.
Like I said; Cashhern is actually a remake of an anime movie known here in the west as Casshan: Robot Hunter, and when I was 12 this was one of the first memorable experiences I had with anime. It's cannon is so ingrained in my memory that I still quote it from time to time. Cashhern was middling at best, and painfully overdone at worst. But that's not the point of this post, the point of this post is to show you a long dead version of myself, but a version who most inspired who and what I am today, and the person who I am closer to now than any of my other iterations.
It must have been the summer between 5th grade and middle school. It was a great summer indeed as I recall. There was the community pool in the day time, the BMX track, and the empty campus of the university that we ruled over for 3 months a year. Then, at night, there were the sleepovers. This is when the majority of the dorkery went on. We would play videogames into the early hours of the morning. "Magic: The Gathering" was slowly becoming the next D&D of my generation and we were on top of that as well, and of course there was the Sci-fi channel, which would show anime movies late at night. Casshan was just one amongst many.
This is still one of the happiest times of my life, and I look back on it fondly because of how innocent and foolish I was. "Cool" was just a word that you used to describe things that had meaning to you. However, when the summer ended and 6th grade began, "cool" took on a whole different meaning. Cool became something to be sought after, and being into videogames and other dork stuff, was so "un-cool" that you were made to be an outcast if you liked those things. Those things being anything that the cool kids didn't like. So, being the desperate loser that I was, I abandoned the things I truly loved, and started liking the things that everyone who was cool liked. This meant ridding myself of all the friends that were into the same shit as I was in to, something I regret everyday. In other words, I sold out. I still secretly loved all that geeky stuff but for years, I never admitted it openly to anyone, which tore me apart. Until we got the internet, and I found a lot of people just like myself, while playing text based games, but that is for another time.
Years later I would be vindicated. Somehow, during my time in high school, it became cool to be into video games, and this became a common bond amongst many people within my clique. Not only within my clique but also all over the U.S. It seemed as though almost overnight that people decided that it was OK to be into dorky stuff. The shitty thing is that I spent almost 5 years hiding my true self from people/friends who accept me now for what I am: An introverted, ego maniacal, dork face, who talks to the internet.
I miss how happy I was then, but at the same time, if I hadn't been put through the social ringer that I was put through, I probably wouldn't have grown in to the person I am now. Would I do it all over again, armed with the 25 years of knowledge I have now? Absolutely, but would it really make a difference? My 12 year old self and my 25 year old self are exactly the same. We are both comfortable with who we are and we aren't going to hold shit back. Though if I could give some advice to my 12 year old self now I would say:
"Listen here bro, you are going to be harrier than anything you can even imagine. Dad? That dude doesn't have shit on you, talk to Mom today, I'm sure there are some treatments ready for kids your age."
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
a pacific northwest bitch gets shown to her room
I wish I had come up with this joke a before I posted that last blog but, the title of that last one should have probably been "So I was talking with some ladies on the internet..."; and other ways to make people laugh unintentionally. That would have been hilarious. Onward!
So I think it's time to update a few of you on my current situation in life. No! I haven't beaten Final Fantasy XII yet, and I don't think it's ever going to happen so stop asking. About two months ago I was cut from my semi-lucrative, semi-professional career as a production manager for a small production house in Pioneer Square. I enjoyed a good, but tenuous run there, and when the company fell on hard times financially I was 'let go'. Do not weep for me though, I am still freelancing for them, and I couldn't be happier to have been let go. I was filming and editing high school sports for fuck's sake.
So now I'm a valet, for one of the few valeted hotels here in the city, and to be honest I am having a lot more fun than I have in almost two years. That isn't to say there aren't some downsides. For one, I hate driving. I fucking hate it. It's not that I am a bad driver, I am actually quite good, but it's the rest of the assholes who drive that make me hate it. However, over the last few weeks I have developed what can probably only be described as "stunt driving skillz". I'm working on being able to drive on just two wheels at the moment, but I'm starting to get tired of being tasered by the police every time I try and resist arrest. Then there is the tourist factor, and most of you know how much I hate tourists. Yet, I endure this hate, teeth clenched in a perpetual smile, and continue to fuel the myth about how it "is always raining here, gosh!" which is something you hear everyday here even if you don't work at a hotel.
Why I am having so much fun then? Aside from getting to 'stunt' some pretty sweet rides? For the tips my dear internet, its for the tips. Much like strippers I get tipped quite often in 1 dollar bills, but unlike strippers I get to drive the expensive cars they often perform fellatio in, so theres another plus, I don't have to give anybody head. In the 'high-end' hotel business people will give you money for doing very mundane and everyday things. For instance, about two weeks ago a nice gentleman who may or may not have been intoxicated gave me a 20 dollar bill for simply holding open the door of the cab he was entering. I long for the days when money means that little to me.
While tips are cool and everything, there is something that I find truly fascinating about driving other peoples cars. It's like walking into a complete strangers house for the first time, only it's scaled down considerably, and those most pertinent information about this individual is immediately available. Let's start with what kind of car they drive. People who drive Mercedes-Benz's are often lack taste, and bought the vehicle because they also lack imagination but have money to spend. These same people rarely (if ever) have music playing in their car, a true mark of a dilettante. BMW, Audi, and VW drivers appear to be a bit more grounded than the Benz people. Their cars tend to be a bit more dirty, and their musical tastes seem to range, though, I have yet to find one that doesn't listen to something that hasn't been on the Top 40 for over the last thirty years. Let's move on though, because I could talk about the musical habits of these people forever.
The smell of some of these cars...oh god the smells! I get into some of these cars and think to myself (between gag reflexes) "They actually drive around in this shitty funk all the time?" I was in a car two days ago that I had to roll all the windows down in, and they were manual windows. It smelled like the person had washed their dog with foot sweat and then locked that poor animal in the car, which was parked in the middle of a Wal-Mart parking lot in Phoenix AZ in July, and then waited for it to die, only to return and throw a bag full of sock eye salmon cut with the putrid stench of Ellensberg, WA right next to that dogs rotting corpse. In other words, it kind of smelled. Anyway, I pull up to the front of the hotel spring from the car dry heaving a little, and start rolling up the windows, all while covering my face with the sleeve of my jacket. The comes out, throws his new dog into the car, hits me with a five and speeds away. I only wish I could have said something to him, but he was Canadian. Which brings me to my final observation.
Canucks are the stingiest fucks on the planet. Europeans, who had never heard of tipping before coming to the U.S. tip better then our neighbors to the north. I shouldn't even call them neighbors, because a neighbor would tip. Their dollar is worth more than ours too! You wouldn't believe how many times I've been stiffed by one of those maple leaf worshiping mofo's. Do me a favor, next time you are in B.C. or Quebec or Saskatchewan, don't leave a tip, it will make up for everything in the grand scheme.
This job is the easiest wage earning position I have ever had, and I wish I had found it when I was 19. For the first time in my life I have no complaints about the job itself, which is a weird feeling, because when I come home and the Queen of Games asks me how my day went, all I can really say is "It went well." Strange. Perhaps I've grown a little wiser, or lost some of that ego I used to so proudly whip about. If anything, I am enjoying how uncomplicated my life is for the time being, and I am happy I've found a new thing to bitch about.
Fuck you, Canada.
So I think it's time to update a few of you on my current situation in life. No! I haven't beaten Final Fantasy XII yet, and I don't think it's ever going to happen so stop asking. About two months ago I was cut from my semi-lucrative, semi-professional career as a production manager for a small production house in Pioneer Square. I enjoyed a good, but tenuous run there, and when the company fell on hard times financially I was 'let go'. Do not weep for me though, I am still freelancing for them, and I couldn't be happier to have been let go. I was filming and editing high school sports for fuck's sake.
So now I'm a valet, for one of the few valeted hotels here in the city, and to be honest I am having a lot more fun than I have in almost two years. That isn't to say there aren't some downsides. For one, I hate driving. I fucking hate it. It's not that I am a bad driver, I am actually quite good, but it's the rest of the assholes who drive that make me hate it. However, over the last few weeks I have developed what can probably only be described as "stunt driving skillz". I'm working on being able to drive on just two wheels at the moment, but I'm starting to get tired of being tasered by the police every time I try and resist arrest. Then there is the tourist factor, and most of you know how much I hate tourists. Yet, I endure this hate, teeth clenched in a perpetual smile, and continue to fuel the myth about how it "is always raining here, gosh!" which is something you hear everyday here even if you don't work at a hotel.
Why I am having so much fun then? Aside from getting to 'stunt' some pretty sweet rides? For the tips my dear internet, its for the tips. Much like strippers I get tipped quite often in 1 dollar bills, but unlike strippers I get to drive the expensive cars they often perform fellatio in, so theres another plus, I don't have to give anybody head. In the 'high-end' hotel business people will give you money for doing very mundane and everyday things. For instance, about two weeks ago a nice gentleman who may or may not have been intoxicated gave me a 20 dollar bill for simply holding open the door of the cab he was entering. I long for the days when money means that little to me.
While tips are cool and everything, there is something that I find truly fascinating about driving other peoples cars. It's like walking into a complete strangers house for the first time, only it's scaled down considerably, and those most pertinent information about this individual is immediately available. Let's start with what kind of car they drive. People who drive Mercedes-Benz's are often lack taste, and bought the vehicle because they also lack imagination but have money to spend. These same people rarely (if ever) have music playing in their car, a true mark of a dilettante. BMW, Audi, and VW drivers appear to be a bit more grounded than the Benz people. Their cars tend to be a bit more dirty, and their musical tastes seem to range, though, I have yet to find one that doesn't listen to something that hasn't been on the Top 40 for over the last thirty years. Let's move on though, because I could talk about the musical habits of these people forever.
The smell of some of these cars...oh god the smells! I get into some of these cars and think to myself (between gag reflexes) "They actually drive around in this shitty funk all the time?" I was in a car two days ago that I had to roll all the windows down in, and they were manual windows. It smelled like the person had washed their dog with foot sweat and then locked that poor animal in the car, which was parked in the middle of a Wal-Mart parking lot in Phoenix AZ in July, and then waited for it to die, only to return and throw a bag full of sock eye salmon cut with the putrid stench of Ellensberg, WA right next to that dogs rotting corpse. In other words, it kind of smelled. Anyway, I pull up to the front of the hotel spring from the car dry heaving a little, and start rolling up the windows, all while covering my face with the sleeve of my jacket. The comes out, throws his new dog into the car, hits me with a five and speeds away. I only wish I could have said something to him, but he was Canadian. Which brings me to my final observation.
Canucks are the stingiest fucks on the planet. Europeans, who had never heard of tipping before coming to the U.S. tip better then our neighbors to the north. I shouldn't even call them neighbors, because a neighbor would tip. Their dollar is worth more than ours too! You wouldn't believe how many times I've been stiffed by one of those maple leaf worshiping mofo's. Do me a favor, next time you are in B.C. or Quebec or Saskatchewan, don't leave a tip, it will make up for everything in the grand scheme.
This job is the easiest wage earning position I have ever had, and I wish I had found it when I was 19. For the first time in my life I have no complaints about the job itself, which is a weird feeling, because when I come home and the Queen of Games asks me how my day went, all I can really say is "It went well." Strange. Perhaps I've grown a little wiser, or lost some of that ego I used to so proudly whip about. If anything, I am enjoying how uncomplicated my life is for the time being, and I am happy I've found a new thing to bitch about.
Fuck you, Canada.
Monday, November 5, 2007
whimsical sweaters
What started out as a joke ended up being one of the best weeks I've spent on the internet. About two weeks ago Koniferous, Steve, The Lobbyist, and I got into one of our normal daily email wars, where we send various links to on another, riffing on the state of union, net-neutrality, cats, fat people etc. etc. The thread became very heated after I sent a link to this website. Koniferous quickly replied by saying something along the lines of "I only understand about 1/3 of what you are say in these emails." Steve added "It's something that only internet dorks get." I shot back by saying that I will stop sending nonsense to them when I get a girlfriend, until then the madness will continue. Soon, The Lobbyist and Koniferous both chimed in saying that I would have to get in line behind the both of them on that front, due to the bi-lateral dryspells they seem to be going through. It did not take Steve very long to reply, and thats when my internet life changed.
Steve decided to heed our call for women, by trolling Craigslist personal ads in our respective cities. What was surprising is that he actually took the time to find each of us three separate women that we might be interested in, instead of doing something hilarious like sending us tranny personals or something of that sort. Anyway, after I received my three prospects I decided to take Steve's challenge and roll with it. Here is the email I sent to the first one, she had a questionaire, which I actually found kind of clever in a dumb way.
1. Yes or no: technology should have stopped at the gear.
This is a strange question. One, because where else can it go besides the gear? Are you talking about the software or firmware for said gear? If we didn't have those things then the 'gear' would be completely useless. Secondly, no.
2. What would you do if you ruled the world?
Re-vive the electric car, build a mono-rail out to Ballard that connects to downtown, and get rid of all those damned zombies.
3. What do you think of ayn rand is hot?
Another strange question. I am assuming what you meant to say here was "Do you think Ayn Rand is hot?" or maybe it's rhetorical like, "What do you think of Ayn Rand's hotness?" To which I can only reply, not really, but that's only because I never knew her personally, and I've never read anything that she's written, also because I find people who quote Rand are often pretentious jerks. Sorry, if you are into her, it's just never been my bag.
4. do you like big brown eyes?
Being of that persuasion myself, it's hard not to like them. But I suppose if they are too big, like say, the size of tea-saucers I'd be a little freaked out.
5. do you like going to art walk just to get drunk off free wine?
Actually, that's just a bonus. What I don't like about Art Walk are all of the tourists and hipstery kids hanging about.
6. Are you devilously handsome, cocky, egotistical, brooding but have a heart
a heart of gold?
I am violently handsome, modest, quiet, and introspective with a keen sense of loyalty.
7. Are you metrosexual or androgynous?
Well, I take a shower everyday and keep my nails cut which I hear is something those metrosexuals do. I wear clothes that fit me, but show off my rather skinny frame. So are you talking androgynous like Bowie or "It's Pat" from SNL? I also have a short beard which might exclude me from the androgyny category.
8. do you have any brothers or sisters?
I have an older sister, Inga, who is 29 years old, and two younger brothers, Alec and Henry, who are 23 and 17 respectively.
9. do you know what you want and usually get it?
I usually do what I want and get what I want about 50% of the time. Such is life.
10. ( and just for fun) fill in the blanks
Strippers______when_______moon________gin__________in your dreams
breakdance, the waxing, distills, while
I really hope that was satisfactory, and also hope to hear from you soon.
So that kind of kicked things off, and got me to thinking. Why don't I go out and find more of these personals? It's like a whole new game, right? Eventually I decided I would go to Craigslist and find the most interesting/weird ads and reply to them. Partly because it was so damn fun answering some of the ads in bazaar or satirical ways, but mostly it was out of my own morbid curiosity. In the end, after replying to about ten or so I only got three replies back. It probably didn't help that when I would send these women emails, they were as snarky (if not more) than the above. I decided I would have to kick this one up a notch.
I would have to post my own personal, and I did.
It was equal parts love lorn mid-twenties dude, and clever bastard, thanks to Chuck Klosterman. You see, I used one of Klosterman's 23 questions in it, and that was basically what inspired literally twenty different women to email over the following week. Now, I didn't admit right off the bat that I had aped one of his questions, but I was sure that someone would almost immediately call me out, but out of the twenty or so women who emailed me only one saw through my bullshit, and called me out.
After answering the question, most of the ladies would tell me a little about themselves. What kind of music they listen to, where they work, standard boilerplate stuff. Some, unprompted, would send me pictures. Let's get something straight, I NEVER asked for pictures, nor would I ask for pictures. It just seems kind of creepy, and really you never know what you are going to get. I got two pictures from two seperate women that made me want to end this experiment, these were perfect examples why these nets can be kind of scary. There are weird people on them. I won't go into too much detail, let's just say that there was some exposed skin involved, lots of exposed skin.
The best part of this whole thing was how much I learned. We spend so much time emailing and chatting with friends and family, you forget that there are millions of anonymous strangers seeking connection. I finally found the answer to a question that's been bothering me for years; How do people find 'love' on the internet? Not that I fell in love with any of these people I was chatting with but the majority of the responses and the ensuing threads that came after were intriguing to say the least, I would probably want to hang out with them if it wasn't some sort of weird 1 on 1 internet blind date type of situation. I was propositioned several times for meet-ups but decided not to, because of my own hang ups. I like the idea of this new type of 'social revolution' but I prefer the old fashioned way of meeting people. Drunk, and through friends.
The experiment ended almost as quickly as it had begun. I had narrowed it down to three different girls, all of which suddenly lost interest in the whole thing about two days ago simultaneously. What happened? I'm not sure, maybe they discovered this blarge (like one industrious minx did) or maybe they grew tired of my ego maniacal rants. Who knows, the point is, it was worth it and I plan on taking the same strategy to a different website/medium very soon. I kind of enjoyed being fawned over by women. It was just like that brief period in my life when I was 22....
By the way, if have any faith in my powers to select music then take heed. The new Jens Lekmen album, "Night Falls Over Kortedala" is the absolute note! Buy it now, and give me a huge high five later.
Steve decided to heed our call for women, by trolling Craigslist personal ads in our respective cities. What was surprising is that he actually took the time to find each of us three separate women that we might be interested in, instead of doing something hilarious like sending us tranny personals or something of that sort. Anyway, after I received my three prospects I decided to take Steve's challenge and roll with it. Here is the email I sent to the first one, she had a questionaire, which I actually found kind of clever in a dumb way.
1. Yes or no: technology should have stopped at the gear.
This is a strange question. One, because where else can it go besides the gear? Are you talking about the software or firmware for said gear? If we didn't have those things then the 'gear' would be completely useless. Secondly, no.
2. What would you do if you ruled the world?
Re-vive the electric car, build a mono-rail out to Ballard that connects to downtown, and get rid of all those damned zombies.
3. What do you think of ayn rand is hot?
Another strange question. I am assuming what you meant to say here was "Do you think Ayn Rand is hot?" or maybe it's rhetorical like, "What do you think of Ayn Rand's hotness?" To which I can only reply, not really, but that's only because I never knew her personally, and I've never read anything that she's written, also because I find people who quote Rand are often pretentious jerks. Sorry, if you are into her, it's just never been my bag.
4. do you like big brown eyes?
Being of that persuasion myself, it's hard not to like them. But I suppose if they are too big, like say, the size of tea-saucers I'd be a little freaked out.
5. do you like going to art walk just to get drunk off free wine?
Actually, that's just a bonus. What I don't like about Art Walk are all of the tourists and hipstery kids hanging about.
6. Are you devilously handsome, cocky, egotistical, brooding but have a heart
a heart of gold?
I am violently handsome, modest, quiet, and introspective with a keen sense of loyalty.
7. Are you metrosexual or androgynous?
Well, I take a shower everyday and keep my nails cut which I hear is something those metrosexuals do. I wear clothes that fit me, but show off my rather skinny frame. So are you talking androgynous like Bowie or "It's Pat" from SNL? I also have a short beard which might exclude me from the androgyny category.
8. do you have any brothers or sisters?
I have an older sister, Inga, who is 29 years old, and two younger brothers, Alec and Henry, who are 23 and 17 respectively.
9. do you know what you want and usually get it?
I usually do what I want and get what I want about 50% of the time. Such is life.
10. ( and just for fun) fill in the blanks
Strippers______when_______moon________gin__________in your dreams
breakdance, the waxing, distills, while
I really hope that was satisfactory, and also hope to hear from you soon.
So that kind of kicked things off, and got me to thinking. Why don't I go out and find more of these personals? It's like a whole new game, right? Eventually I decided I would go to Craigslist and find the most interesting/weird ads and reply to them. Partly because it was so damn fun answering some of the ads in bazaar or satirical ways, but mostly it was out of my own morbid curiosity. In the end, after replying to about ten or so I only got three replies back. It probably didn't help that when I would send these women emails, they were as snarky (if not more) than the above. I decided I would have to kick this one up a notch.
I would have to post my own personal, and I did.
It was equal parts love lorn mid-twenties dude, and clever bastard, thanks to Chuck Klosterman. You see, I used one of Klosterman's 23 questions in it, and that was basically what inspired literally twenty different women to email over the following week. Now, I didn't admit right off the bat that I had aped one of his questions, but I was sure that someone would almost immediately call me out, but out of the twenty or so women who emailed me only one saw through my bullshit, and called me out.
After answering the question, most of the ladies would tell me a little about themselves. What kind of music they listen to, where they work, standard boilerplate stuff. Some, unprompted, would send me pictures. Let's get something straight, I NEVER asked for pictures, nor would I ask for pictures. It just seems kind of creepy, and really you never know what you are going to get. I got two pictures from two seperate women that made me want to end this experiment, these were perfect examples why these nets can be kind of scary. There are weird people on them. I won't go into too much detail, let's just say that there was some exposed skin involved, lots of exposed skin.
The best part of this whole thing was how much I learned. We spend so much time emailing and chatting with friends and family, you forget that there are millions of anonymous strangers seeking connection. I finally found the answer to a question that's been bothering me for years; How do people find 'love' on the internet? Not that I fell in love with any of these people I was chatting with but the majority of the responses and the ensuing threads that came after were intriguing to say the least, I would probably want to hang out with them if it wasn't some sort of weird 1 on 1 internet blind date type of situation. I was propositioned several times for meet-ups but decided not to, because of my own hang ups. I like the idea of this new type of 'social revolution' but I prefer the old fashioned way of meeting people. Drunk, and through friends.
The experiment ended almost as quickly as it had begun. I had narrowed it down to three different girls, all of which suddenly lost interest in the whole thing about two days ago simultaneously. What happened? I'm not sure, maybe they discovered this blarge (like one industrious minx did) or maybe they grew tired of my ego maniacal rants. Who knows, the point is, it was worth it and I plan on taking the same strategy to a different website/medium very soon. I kind of enjoyed being fawned over by women. It was just like that brief period in my life when I was 22....
By the way, if have any faith in my powers to select music then take heed. The new Jens Lekmen album, "Night Falls Over Kortedala" is the absolute note! Buy it now, and give me a huge high five later.
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