The Dangers of Literacy

As most of my loyal readers know, any discussions of my past romantic relationships (serious or otherwise) tend to be brief and elicit sympathetic words of encouragement and awkward pats on the back. There is no need to get too detailed, but if you were keeping count, you'd have yet to reach the second hand (and if you are starting to keep count, please start with your longest finger).

For some reason, most of the ladies involved in these joint ventures have been strong-willed to the point that even Ruth Bader Ginsburg would take a look at them and say "Damn girl, lighten up a bit. Give that man a break." Fortunately, the current girl is much more on the feminine side and does all those great girly things like being nice and smelling good that you would expect from someone you're dating*.

Unfortunately, with more feminine lady friends there also come thoughts, actions and reading material that are completely foreign to me. The latest addition to this list was a little magazine called Cosmopolitan.

At first glance, the mag seems to be completely harmless. The colors are bright, the font is big and the girls pretty. Unfortunately, there is a nasty secret hidden in the glossy, strawberry scented pages. After immersing herself for what may have been hours, I expected MiaManda to come out with comments like "Ooooh, now I can make you even better pies!", or "You were right, I should question you less and follow your requests blindly."

Instead, I was hit by a barage of questions that even my naivety flagged as dangerous if answered. Gents, if at any time you are asked any of the following, I suggest faking a seizure. If you're dating a health care professional, hit your head on the desk until a real one occurs:

• What do you think of this lingerie (pointing to a hot, scantily clad 83 pound model wearing a shoelace and cotton ball)?
• Do you think (insert anything here) would help our romantic life?
• Isn't she cute (pointing to any other female over 16 years old)?
• Want to hear what is on the list of the 423 things happy couples do that we don't?
• Want to take this quiz with me?

You may laugh, but when the articles carry the titles of "Him and His Friends: How to Properly Insert the Wedge", "That Bitch! How to Get Back at Your Best Friend" and "Testicles: How to Properly Remove, Mount, and Place Over the Mantel", you have to realize the odds are stacked against you.

I'm sure this is a great magazine, but fellas, if you have it laying around your house, make this the time to become a pyromaniac. The court costs might be through the roof, but you'll never have to take the "How much does he really love you?" test.




*For the record, she can be a be-atch if necessary. I once watched her nearly slap the shit out of some douche that had 70 pounds on her. I also got a disapproving look when I strode in front of a fan pointing in her direction, braced myself and sent a Holmes fueled symphony of flatuance her way. But I digress...

Like Woah and OMFG

Despite what some may think, I don't squeal like a school girl on Valentine's day very often. Sure, I may perk up when Carolina signs another All American or I solve a problem on Project Euler, but rarely does an audible screech escape from my lips.

This was not the case early last evening. An event of such great historical importance, epic proportions and unpredictability was announced that had anyone dared dream of it, they would have been engulfed in a straight jacket and whisked away to a state run rehabilitation facility in a matter of seconds.

No, Bill O'Reilly has not admitted that his show is done in jest. Nor has Fox "News" fessed up to being little more than entertainment for the feeble minded. And god no, I'm not getting married (again).

In fact, it was announced that MySpace is going to broadcast the first Ben Folds Five reunion in nearly a decade from their old stomping grounds (and mine) - Chapel Hill. If you've never been engulfed in giddiness, elation, and euphoria all at once, you should try it. It's like having a million little fingers massage your whole body while nude angels frolic in a baby oil pool for which you are the life guard.

Add this great news to the fact that fall is quickly descending upon us, Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back at Starbucks, I have two great Fantasy Football teams and MiaManda is surprising me with an early birthday present this week and the last couple of days have been quite fun despite the best efforts of life's little PITAs.

A couple one liners for ya:

• If your water heater has a 6 year warranty, be assured that it will explode at 6 years and 2 months.
  
• Golf is addicting. Even more so if you're awful.
• If anyone needs to get in touch with Satan herself, let me know. I have that pain in the ass' contact info.
• I propose that the AL MVP vote is fixed so as to allow Pedroia and Youkilis to split it.
• The mop top has gone about 4 months without so much as a trim. Don't worry, I'm still stunningly handsome.
• The poison ivy is finally gone. Please do enjoy my documentation of it's disgustingness.
  

Finally, a little teaser to get you to check back in a few days. There will soon be photo evidence of pussy-whipped-ness to a degree which has never been seen before. Not to spoil the surprise, but it involves fantasy football, co-managers and official team uniforms...

My Man Crush: Ben Folds

In case you didn't know, Ben Folds' newest album - Way To Normal - hits shelves exactly one month from today. This is likely to be the musical highlight of my year. The singles I've heard are eccentric, upbeat, honest and obscene - everything I've come to expect from Mr. Folds. Add to that a duet with Regina Spektor, leaked tracks (both real and fake) by the man himself, a YouTube contest for covers of his songs and a stop motion video written about a tumble in Japan, and this appears to be another entry in my line of worn out Folds related CDs.

So for those of you who have yet to become obsessed with the oft-wed pianist (4 and counting!) and those of you who have an obsession to his music as equally unhealthy as my own, here are 10 Ben Folds related videos for your listening (and viewing) pleasure:

Best Song (In My Opinion) - Underground



Best Use of Keytar - Rockin' The Suburbs



Best Nonsensical Title - One Angry Dwarf And 200 Solemn Faces



Best Sing Along - Army



Best Cover by Ben - Careless Whisper (w/Rufus Wainwright)



Best Cover of Ben - The Last Polka

Piano - Mike Stein
Drums - Justin Bulava
Vocals (grey) - Lauren Fairweather
Vocals (yellow) - Nina Jankowicz


Most Depressing Lyrics - Brick



Best (and only) Sports Song - Boxing



Best Song That Makes You Say REALLY? - Bitches Ain't Shit (NSFW) (Dr. Dre Cover)

(Fast forward to the 2 minute mark - it's worth it)


Best Song About Dating Your Daughter's Friend - Karaoke Supernova/Hiro's Song

The 40 Hour Day

Every now and then I have a week at work where I can just step back on Friday afternoon and say "Damn, I got a ton done." Don't get me wrong, this doesn't happen very often, but when it does I'm always taken aback.

Of course, I never really tried 40 consecutive hours of activity - until last weekend. Since my nude modeling career has yet to take off, work is still a necessity, and unfortunately it bungled up my personal plans once again. While some of the fun stuff got thrown out the window (the only nipples I saw that weekend were my own), I did have quite the day (or two):

• Wake up in the Philly suburbs. Wash vigorously.
  
• Complete a REALLY cool work assignment. No small governments were overthrown.
• Drive through beautiful downtown Philadelphia. I'm still awaiting the results of the TB test.
  
• Spend an hour in a fiberglass tube which zooms you to Boston at 350mph.
• Have a delicious Quiznos dinner in Southern New Hampshire
• Drive 9 hours to a foreign land while listening to tales of contemplated military service, hitting the lowest of lows and barroom brawls. Luckily I'm naive and think they are just catchy songs that help the time go by.
• Shoot random elk, moose and deer at 3 am while releasing primal screams that would make Howard Dean swell with pride.
• Aid in the hydration of bushes on the edge of Niagara Falls
• Ingest multiple grams of caffeine in the form of three venti hazelnut soy lattes, six red bulls, three gas station coffees and one diet coke. I know, I know, diet soda is bad for me.
• Listen to Toronto area news stations discuss how the Blue Jays will do in the playoffs. Despite being 12 games back. In late August. And sucking. Really.
• Watch Jon Lester throw a couple innings of batting practice to the Jays.
• Mmmmm...steak and crab legs
• Cirque du Soleil with my mom and her fiancee. If I'm doing this at 40 and still single, feel free to openly question my sexuality.
• Ten Layer Cake at Gretzkey's
• Finally, the sweet embrace of unconsciousness...

Overall, not a bad time. Toronto is a great city, the Sox turned it around the next day, and our hotel was amazing. I wouldn't recommend going more than a day without sleep, but if you have to, this is a pretty kick ass way to spend it.

Fun in Horsham

Despite my best efforts, I've been unable to avoid the blogosphere for more than a couple weeks. Add to the fact that my many fans (many can be defined as more than 2, right?) have asked, nay, DEMANDED more posts, and everyone's favorite blogger is right back on track. How about we do this one Q&A style...

Dwight (of Dwight and Carol) writes: "I'm an old man and my days have been devoid of joy since you've stopped posting. Please, share some of your day-to-day exploits and help me make it to my 73rd year."

Well Dwight, what can I say. I just finished a 28 day road trip which I chased with an immediate jump back into the world of software security. Now, don't be jealous, it's not as glamorous as it seems - it's all hack this and break that, but not a whole lot more. Other than that, I've been filling my time with various pursuits of love, miracle cures, continued travels and the ever continuing research of my next auto to replace the trusty Saab.

"Wait", you may say. "Love? Miracle cures? More travels! NOT THE SAAB! Screw the Q&A - go into more details."

I'm not one to deprive my fans, so let's go at this one list style...

Pursuits Of Love?

Alright, lets not get ahead of ourselves on this one. Love is a wee bit strong, but I was somehow able to metaphorically club a lovely lady over the head and drag her home. My escape from the gorilla like clutches of singledom are no doubt due to a combination of my boyish good looks, awkward yet amusing mumblings, eloquent nature of speaking, and of course, this very blog.

Add to the fact that this is yet another 22 year old (I keep getting older, but they stay the same age!), and life isn't all that bad. At this point, I'm obliged to make three statements:

1. Sorry mom - I swear I was trying for an older one.
2. Sorry Mia Manda. Not sure for what yet, but I figure I should just throw it out there.
3. Sorry to everyone else - No naked photos to share. Yet.

I'll save the tales of romantic exploits for future posts, direct-to-VHS videos and family gatherings. Feel free to wonder aloud how I pulled this one off (and how far away she'll move once she comes to her senses...)

Ok, even a blind dog finds a bone sometimes. But what is this talk of miracle cures?

Upon returning to my humble abode (please note the irritated sarcasm on this one), I found my front door covered in monstrous weeds. Unfortunately, I decided that I should get my annual dose of manual labor in and started pulling like a three year old in need of a potty.

Now, in life, there are certain things that select groups of people can usually identify. Fat people always know when a golden corral is nearby. Pervs can usually find an adult superstore in less than 3 minutes on a Saturday evening. Frat boys can find a passed out sorority girl in mere seconds, and techies can find a Micro Center in a micro second (I know, lame). Unfortunately, I know of at least one person who should know what Poison Ivy looks like, but after 28 summers has yet to learn.

I'll not go into the details of puss drenched paper towels, hotel rooms covered in peeling skin, visits to urgent care and steroids that will not make me buff, but do want to share a couple little secrets. There are two products on the market that help remove urushiol from skin and speed the healing. They are called Tecnu Extreme and Zanfel. While they weren't a miracle cure for me, they did stop the oozing a few days early - just in time for me to visit Horsham and Toronto...

Toronto! Horsham? Do tell...

In the glamorous life of consulting, there are many travel opportunities. "Wow!" most people think "I'd love to travel!" Hey, so would I - to New York, Chicago, London, Paris - hell I'd even settle for Norway in the summer.

Unfortunately, I've spent months of my life in Montgomery, AL, Mechanicsburg, PA, Columbus, OH and now Horsham, PA. I shouldn't complain, but there is only such much to love about a Candlewood Suites with an over-amorous neighbor (the room is only home to one person - I asked), a recliner with a 3 inch hole to prove that, yes, they are in fact stuffed with real cotton, and remnants of the last 12 guests who showered in (and around) my bathroom.

Luckily, my stay in Horsham was extended by a day, therefore shortening my weekend visit to Toronto to see the Sox play. Now, my boss was cool about it, and my travel mates didn't seem to mind too much, but having to choose sitting in Horsham writing a blog over an extra night of Canadian stripper boobies in my face was not an easy decision. I guess I'll at least save a buck or two this way and hopefully make a few of you laugh.

And finally, the Saab...

It's a great car. The turbo is new, the seats comfortable, and the gas mileage great. But as another New England winter slowly creeps up on us and my disposable income taps on my shoulder, I've begun my search for a replacement. I really have no idea which way I want to go with this, so feel free to throw out a suggestion or two. Just remember that All Wheel Drive or Four Wheel Drive are required, I am cheap, and I'd prefer something that conveys my elevated level of masculinity.

And that is how I spend my life when I'm not driving around the country. I'll try to liven it up a bit, but can't make too many promises.

Until next time...

Days 25-26: What A Long Strange Trip It's Been*

After a couple victorious nights in Kansas City, I realized that I was ready for a return trip home. I was very tired. My car was somehow still running. I wanted to get dressed without having to lay on an air mattress. I'd not passed out, gotten arrested or broken international treaties at any point. Every memory was fond and most of the pictures great. Sure, I'd miss visiting a handful of friends in the greater DC area (big thanks to the Newdorfs for offering housing) and have to skip a couple more national parks, but it was time.

Bright and early on day 25 I jumped out of my tent and began the 22 hour drive from KC to Pelham, NH.

View Larger Map

I was determined to get home as quickly as possible, so sight seeing was kept to a minimum. I did make a couple observations though:

• There is actually stuff east of Kansas City. Between San Fran and KC there were about 12 gas stations total. East of KC there are towns every 15 miles. It was a comforting feeling.
• Traveling East of the Mississippi brings back the adult superstores. They are everywhere. The best are the ones with "Jesus Saves" signs right next to them. I'm not sure if this is a reference to a reborn savior or MLB relief pitcher, but apparently he is good at it one way or another.
• Sonic restaurants do actually exist. The commercials are all over the Northeast, but the restaurants aren't. Northeasterners will be glad to know that the midwest contains the majority of these deliciously greasy dining establishments.
• St. Louis scares me. I only drove through, but it looked kinda like a hole. Everyone I know from there chooses to work somewhere far away for 5 days a week. I'm sure it's a nice place, but the abandoned warehouses and run down buildings convinced me to shoot right through.

After a day and a half of driving with a brief stop in a Syracuse hotel (big thanks to MiaManda for keeping me awake on the phone until I got there), I was finally home. Luckily the drive was uneventful and quick. I figure this is the best place to share a few stats:

• State license plates seen (mostly by Janine): 49 - including a Hawaii one in Alaska. I have no idea how we missed West Virginia.
• Miles driven: 9,732 - plus several hundred more traveled by sea.
• Amount spent on gas: $1,504.92. Compare this to flight and car rental costs and the price of gas doesn't make me want to cry as much.
• States/Provinces Visited: 25. Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Alberta, British Columbia, Alaska, Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri
• Girls convinced to go on a date because they like the blog: 1 (poor thing)
  

So this journey is over. I'm pretty excited to see what kind of trouble I get myself into in the future. I'd like to do another Q&A, so send the questions my way if you have them. I'll leave everyone with a before/after pic to show the effects that such a trip may have on you. Hope you enjoyed.

-Chad

After Vacation--->
<----Before Vacation

*Grateful Dead (duh)

Days 23-24: Sox in KC

I'd love to be creative and witty when writing about my trip from Denver to Kansas City, but I'm just not that good. I'll not kid my loyal readers (or myself), I was stopping in Kansas City for one reason only - to watch grown men run around in cotton-lycra blends, slap each other on the bum and get sweaty with each other in the triple digit heat.

Add to the fact that I was going on 3 (or was it 4?) days without clean underwear, and my whole impression of Kansas City is based on laundromats, campgrounds, Kauffman Stadium and fine dining establishments that charge less than $15 for a full meal.

So without further unnecessary rambling, here are my generalized impressions of Kansas City:

The roads out west are VERY straight

Seriously - look at this map. It is roughly 500 miles of a straight road that angles one degree this way or that at every 25 mile marker. This leads to a damn boring drive, but at least I had the Sox to welcome me once I arrived.

View Larger Map

This really is a Red Sox Nation

Nearly every place I went with my cap on - ballparks, stores, hiking trails, etc - I would get a "Go Sox!" welcome. People love everything about them: the story, the players, the winning ways (of late), the merchandising. Unfortunately, a KC fan was nice enough to point out that a majority of people at the ballpark were actually mid-western band wagon fans who couldn't name a player before 2002. To prove his point he asked a few groups what they liked about Mike Greenwell, with which he only received replies of blank stares and dodgy eyes.

It is perfectly acceptable to be a newer fan, but please identify yourself with a pink hat or at least try to avoid wearing old school jerseys if you don't know who actually wore that #9.

People west of the Mississippi love to hit my car

Yup, it happened once again. I was sitting in a parking lot (with one leg out my car door no less) and I got backed into. This isn't a huge deal since it was at about 2 miles an hour. What was a big deal was the octogenarian not realizing his auto was immobile due to its' being wedged against my bumper. Once he revved the engine three or four more times and slid my car forward about 4 inches, he apparently found just enough room to put his car in drive and glide away. I started to walk after him, but realized that backing into cars may be a sign that he may also drive into people. Just another war wound for the beast.

KC is a great place to watch baseball

The Royals fans are great. They know that they have a young, talented team which needs a few years to mature. They cheer hustle and good fundamentals. They don't boo poor plays or mental errors. The media presents the players in a good light and the players remain involved in the community. Definitely a good baseball town.

Fortunately, the fans don't flood the stadium each night, so tickets 5 rows behind the dugout were readily available for face value at the box office. Add that to consecutive 8-2 victories, great pulled pork and clean undies, and I had the time of my life in this soon to be renovated stadium.

Laundromats are confusing places

Why would anyone put a front load washer directly across from a top load one? Doesn't it just lead confused tech geeks to washing their clothes a total of 3 times before realizing that most dryers don't offer an option for the water temperature? $10 extra dollars and an hour later, I did finally figure out where the dryers were (luckily, right next to the Donkey Kong game) and within 45 minutes my bits and pieces smelled of a fresh Spring day.

After seeing 2 great games, I came to the realization that I was ready to head home. Up next - What A Long Strange Trip It's Been