Happy Fat Tuesday!

A week from today, I’ll be an adult. OK, I’ve been all mature for years, but you know, 30 sounds official.

What a weird and bitter sweet Lent this will be. For starters, it will be the first one in years I haven’t given up something. I could always fall back on my usual choice of soda, but honestly I don’t like most of the diet stuff, so I barely drink any now. It would hardly be a sacrifice, but compared to giving yourself for crucifixion to atone for the sins of everyone, I would think anything given up for lent is a joke. Ya know? What a weird little tradition.

Today I woke up at 6. I just don’t sleep well, or I should say I don’t sleep well until a day comes along with I have to get up early. Like Sunday, I could have slept until noon, but I had existing plans dragging me out of bed before 10. Today’s unneeded sunrise awakening gave me some time to sit and read.

I cracked open “What should I do with My Life” and polished off most of what I had left. It was a Christmas gift and I’ve been thumbing through it in my free time. It asks you to do a lot of self evaluation. Unlike lots of career books, it doesn’t come with exercises or quizzes. Instead it gives you stories of people who followed their dreams. Some succeeded, some failed and many found success really wasn’t what they expected and just as many found clarity in failure. It is a great book, because it stresses the importance of asking these questions. For myself, I’m constantly exploring the “what should I do with my mortal existence?” question.

The possibilities are endless, but then again, they’re getting limited. I could go back to finish my biology degree, study for the MCAT and start med school in 3 years. Then do clinicals, class work and a residency and I’d be practicing just in time to turn 40. Long story short, it isn’t realistic. It also isn’t what I want to do.

See, I’ve determined there is a fine line between realistic and not realistic and the best way I know to define it is this. When you really truly want something with the fiber of all your being, you will make it happen. You might fail, that is out of your hands if you give something 100%. There are just so many things that we make excuses for. People put off things like marriage and kids until they have enough money. They put off going back to school until there kids are grown. We spend our lives making little sacrifices to excuse ourselves from action.

I firmly believe when you do know what you want in life, you will make it a reality no matter what. Otherwise, inspired teachers wouldn’t teach at the worst schools in the inner city. Good people wouldn’t patrol the worst neighborhoods as police officers. No one would join the military. Unless you really honestly feel compelled to do something, You can often find excuses not to do it. Conversely, when you discover the thing that makes you tick, no excuse on earth will stand between you and your calling.

So it is with so many things in life. We try to force jobs and relationships to be something they’re not, or we dive in half hearted figuring it is the best thing we’re going to find. I for one will continue to search. The deadline is coming to sign up for school for the fall. I could do another masters. I’ve even entertaining a few areas of study. What is stopping me is that gut instinct I didn’t listen to last time. I remember so clearly knowing that Computer Science wasn’t where I wanted to be. Yet I continued on. Partly because I had no better ideas. Partly because I was making great grades. Partly because I had already invested so much time in the school work, that to not finish would be dumb.

So I finished and I don’t regret it. However, the lesson I learned was that I should trust my gut on such things. I also learned that when the time comes and I discover what gives my life meaning, nothing will stand between myself and reaching that goal. It might be becoming a paramedic or a parent or learning to be a really great xylophone player. It seems we spend much of our life forcing square pegs into the holes that are so clearly circular.

This day, the last Tuesday of my 20s, I’m making a commitment to myself to no longer do this. I could wake up tomorrow and decide I want to spend the rest of my years running a hot dog stand. If that is the case and my heart of hearts says that is what I was put on this earth to do, then I am doing it. You can not let expectations from society, other people and the ideas you grew up with stop you from living your life the way you want to. To live otherwise is not living at all.

Message to the planet. Buy condoms.

These are days you'll remember. Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this. And as you feel it,you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky. It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.These are days you'll remember. When May is rushing over you with desire to be part of the miracles you see in every hour. You'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky. It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.These are days. These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break.These days you might feel a shaft of light make its way across your face .And when you do you'll know how it was meant to be. See the signs and know their meaning. It's true, you'll know how it was meant to be. Hear the signs and know they're speaking to you, to you.
~10,000 Maniacs

That is still a beautiful song and one that can always take me to a better time.
I think the message here is a timeless one, but maybe that is just me. It seems we’re all stuck looking to the future or reminiscing about the past. Were our head should be is the NOW. I’m in the homestretch of my 20s and I’m feeling as introspective as ever. If I sit and contemplate that I’ll be 30 in mere days, my head will explode. The truth is it really doesn’t matter. I can see it and recognize it as a number and an inconsequential one at that.
So these really are the days. When I’m old (not “old” according to MTV, who sends everyone away when they turn 25) I’ll reflect back on these days and realize they were some of the best. This right now today is your life. For better or worse, this is going to be it. So find some part each day that gives you a sense of peace or accomplishment or thousands of other wonderful emotions. I was thinking last night about what I would tell myself if I could go back in time. Honestly, there isn’t much. I don’t have the world figured out or my path through it mapped out. Hell, getting there is half the fun and the surprises along the way are sometimes bitter, but they can also be pretty sweet.
The best part about life is the memories you collect along the way. Personally, I’ve tried to live in the NOW, but there plenty of great things to reflect on. I remember being in 8th grade and visiting the Florida Keys. It was the first time I went anywhere without my family and it was a beautiful place to start. Seeing the sunset in the Keys ranks at the top of my list of favorites. Even more spectacular is watching it set over the Grand Canyon. After a particularly long day cramped into a van with 5 other people, I remember getting out to stretch my legs at the Grand Canyon and realizing words, pictures or video would never do this place justice.
I remember my first trip all alone. I went to Seattle to visit my only friend who was brave enough to move to the other side of the country. I connected there to the city that spawned much of the music and culture that comprised my teenage years. I felt a connection with that city and realized then that I could adapt to any new place. Along the way, there have been hundreds, possibly thousands, of these magical little moments where I’ve found myself incredibly grateful to be alive and incredibly thankful for this gift we call life.
I remember putting on my socks one morning and wondering how long my Grandmother would suffer. She was dying two states away. I remember going to her grave alone and crying like I have never cried before. I remember hiding in the bushes outside my middle school dance while “My Prerogative” thumbed through the gym wall. I was so painfully shy I couldn’t even go inside. I remember getting the nerve to finally talk to a girl, I remember finally asking one out and I remember the sting of rejection. Ultimately, rejection lost its sting the day I finally met and connected with the woman I love.

On the road ahead, there will certainly be as many highs and lows. While I’ll probably get to witness my children coming into this world, I’ll also someday be burying my parents. These events just come slowly, but sometimes they also pile up on you. The human spirit is a powerful and amazing thing. We move on, we reflect, we anticipate and we plan. Hopefully, we don’t do this while letting go of pasts hurts, not worrying about the future and living in the now. That is my goal for the decade ahead.

I think I’m going to drop my YMCA membership today.


I went for a while on a regular basis. Heck, I even went 5 times a week. Today, probably due in part to my protestant work ethic*, my shoulder is killing me. See, when I was 16, I thought working hard was very important. So as I slung groceries and carts around all summer at Publix, I quickly learned nobody cared if you put extra effort into your job. In fact, your coworkers looked down on it. You were setting the bar too high. One day in particular I remember pushing a row of carts so long, I could feel my neck and shoulder make cracking noises. Every since then, I have had some residual pain in that area.


Anyway, my point is that all I have ever done with a gym membership is irritate and make that area hurt worse. I can lift an incredible amount of weight. The question is, should I? As far as cardio goes, I’m definitely not built for running. You don’t see too many gazelles built like me. If you do, you’ll usually see only their freshly picked carcass rotting in the sun. I’m no runner.

So I’m thinking about finding that mind-body connection. I want to find some exercise that is both spiritually fulfilling and physically stimulating. Surfing has always popped up since I love the ocean, but it seems too impractical due to the limitations of season and the distance to the ocean. I tried yoga once, but famously walked out of the class. Honestly, I should probably give it another chance. It appeals to me a lot more than zoning out on the elliptical for 45 minutes. I’ve been there and done that.

Even when I was a gym regular, my pythons looked more like grass snakes and my body fat never reached single digits. Its time now to release myself from the I-pod-clad folks at the Y. Goodbye MILFS, goodbye elderly people walking 2 M.P.H on the treadmill, goodbye guy who hogs up the free weights. Good luck with your fitness goals. I need to find my own path.

*I'm mostly Catholic.

It seems like every movie preview or poster inspires deja vu these days. Most are just remakes of some old movie or TV show. Is it just me, or is it getting harder to distinguish between the old crap and the new crap. It seems Hollywood has really put forth no effort at all to be original recently.
Here is a Matthew McCaughnehey film from 2003

and here is some new flick coming out



Ok, so the suits are different colors. Seriously, this is probably the same recycled script as well.

We get these emails at work that always keep us updated on who is out for the day. 9 times out of 10, they are a haiku

Mark Bennet is ill
Mary Combs in at 10
Perry Johnson is off

“So much time and so much dough, spent on things that come and go.”


I found that quote in a journal I had from high school. It made we wonder if at 16 I understood the double meaning to that phrase. A word of advice ladies, find yourself a Pisces. We make great lovers. Heck, I don’t know that. Maybe the women who have been kind enough to donate to the lovin cause were just too nice to register any complaints. I would like to tell you Pisces women are great lovers, but I wouldn’t know. Most of the ones I’ve know have been morally challenged.

I did have one Pisces friend in college who turned to me one drunken evening and said “you can sleep with me if you want too.” Call me a romantic, but I like a little more of a challenge than that. I think what deterred me the most was her huge boyfriend in the Navy who at last check wasn’t out to sea. She was very serious. How did I know? I could count on 4 hands the number of guys I knew who already hiked that trail. Ah, college.

Little did any of us know that life would be downhill from there. That might be a little harsh, but I’d imagine in our minds we though “on to bigger and better things.” I even remember thinking how loaded I would be when I made 25 grand a year. Naivety is cute. I’ll be 30 in less than 20 days.

I love “The Daily Show.” I also fully believe I could do a show like that. I’ve never looked at something and so thoroughly knew I could do that and refer to it as a “calling.” I think my fear is I will end up like literally thousands of people who others refer to as “funny.” It is easy to be funny when you don’t have to do it for a living. Ask Dave Chapelle. He was chewed up and spit by the entertainment industry. Of course I sure he made some bank in the process.

So last night, Demitry did his usual Trendspotting segment and it was all about myspace.com. and it was funny. So like all the other people that saw the segment, I diligently added him as a friend. I also sent him the “hey, how do I get on ‘The Daily Show’ email.” Poor guy is going to get sick of those emails from people.

So maybe I should go to New York and really try to get on the show. The thing is, I find being funny to be hard work. Ten years ago, I was Mr. Chuckles. Now I find the whole process draining and let’s face it, we’re all pretty jaded these days. It takes a lot to make people laugh. Truth be told, I was always funniest when I was trying to get a girl’s attention. Now that I have a girl, I don’t feel the need to be funny anymore.

Hence this blog.

You wouldn’t read it and immediately think “this guy is funny” because I honestly make no effort what so ever to be funny. Especially not here. To some extent being funny is like being muscular, or good at sports or brainy. It serves you well when you’re competing for something, but it doesn’t have a whole lot of practical uses in day-to-day living. Of course if I could get a few minutes to try out for “The Daily Show”, rest assured I’d give them a good reason to bring me on board. That or blow Rob Cordry.

The internet has been my foe.


Ok, of all the utilities to get left without, I suppose electricity or water would be far more inconvenient. I’d even settle for 56K back again. I’m internet-less at home. Lord knows I depend on the net in an unnatural way. I check movie times online. I order most hard to find items online. I document my innermost longing on my blog. I follow my Weight Watchers regimen religiously when I’m connected. So even my health suffers from the lack of internet.


So I have to focus on a third world country that lacks things like grain to feed their starving or medical care. The people of Uzcrapistan would laugh at the concept of being denied internet access. I’m now working with my second ISP since moving and the earliest these people can come by to evaluate my internet connection problem is next Thursday. I tried working with their help desk and even got hung up on by one of the analysts. As he was walking me through the process of setting up basic internet protocols, I politely told him 1) I have a masters degree in this BS and tried everything under the sun to get the network up and running and 2) I use to work at a help desk I understand his frustration with me not wanting to step through things like rebooting, but could he please just dispatch a tech. It was then that he hung up. Of course in the age of no accountability, he knew that nothing would ever come back to haunt him, so he hung up on some know it all a-hole.


So in the grand scheme of things, it has been a hard week to settle into the new apartment. Valentine’s night involved unanswered phone calls about family drama. I’ve got enough on my plate right now and I’m certainly not adding to it by answering the phone in the middle of dinner with my girlfriend. So goes the week where dozens of little things have been driving me bonkers.

All my youthful crushes are now out looking for good men. One is doing it with the help of Dr. Phil and the other has a reality TV series.
At least Samantha Fox had the decency to decide she was gay.


Luckily I have a wonderful woman in my life this valentine’s. The bad news is we’ll eventually look like brother and sister.

Happy VD. I will say the holiday is a lot better when you are not single. I remember many valentines’ days getting depressed about being alone. Well cheer up little soldiers. Like so many holidays, it is so ripe with expectation, that there’s no way reality will ever live up to it. So instead of feeling bad about being alone, look at this as an opportunity to save money. Seriously, take the funds you’d otherwise use on your valentines, gather up some single friends and get hammered.


Just like when you quit smoking and everywhere you look you see people smoking, it seems like VD is the day were everyone else seems to be in a relationship. The truth is it isn’t the truth. Not everyone is. Last year I was single and all my friends were part of a couple or so it felt. Here we are a year later and that has all changed. So for those who are spending this day without a significant other, just remember that by this time next year, you could be in a totally different place.


Now, here’s God’s VD gift to you. It looks like that no talent ass clown Scott Stapp is in trouble again.

Tomorrow is my move to the big city. I’m a nervous wreck. I tend to worry about stupid stuff 24/7, so anything as big as a move to a different city is enough to really get me worked up. Tomorrow also marks a weird milestone. The first of my closest friends turns the big 3-0. In less than a month, I’ll be right there with him.

As far as dates go, why is any one particular birthday scarier than others? Is it fear of the unknown? We all know we felt exactly the same the day we woke up on our 13th birthday and found ourselves teenagers. Same goes for 16 years old and getting your license and turning 21 and buying your first legal drink. As individuals, these milestones change us very little. Age is, in fact, just a number.

On the other hand, there does seem to be something very adult about 30. If you described someone who lives in their parents basement, works at Taco Bell and gets high every night, I would think a lot less of them if they were 30 then I would if they were 29. The 20s just seem to be a time to waste time, find yourself, job hop and get the last of the partying out of your system.

I’ve long felt ahead of my time. Ask anyone who knew me when everyone else was doing keg stands and waking up in their own vomit. I was never part of that. I was around it, I was sometimes even cheering people on, but as far as reckless, crazy youthful indiscretion goes, it was never my thing. So now, I’ll soon have the age to match the attitude.

Sorry if this seems glum. I guess I’m getting sympathy pains for my buddy getting older. It was bound to happen. So take my advice little kiddies, 30 will be here before you know it. Of course, it really isn’t a big deal. Hell, 30 is the new 20. So live it up. Just make sure you can still get up for work the next day.

Funny how a song will bring back a memory. Someone just walked by my office and their ring tone was “Fernando” by ABBA. I remember being a little squirt sitting on the front porch looking at the stars and listening to the radio really low. It was just enough so you could still hear the ocean and my Dad would point out constellations to me. Those memories are always brought back by “The Tide Is High” and “Fernando

Sometimes I feel pretty well stuck in a world were no one will understand me. I tend to accept others for who and what they are. On the other hand it seems everyone else in the world likes to pigeonhole things into neat little containers that they can label and store in the back of their cerebral cortex. I’m certainly not the “woo is me I’m too complex for you to possibly understand” kind of person. I learned long ago the best face you can present to the world is an unimpressive one.


The question for me is how long can I fight my nature. I’ve taken the damn Myers-Briggs test a dozen times and it always comes up INFP. I guess I’m hoping if I take it enough, eventually it will tell me I am practical and predictable and all the other things that describe stable. I don’t know why I crave stability. The reality is that really doesn’t rank too high on my list of priorities. I think instead I am seeking something I didn’t have much of when I was a kid. As an adult I can dictate how I live my life, so I’ll stick to secure things.

The truth is I have made quiet little protests against stability. Obviously I’ve changed cars a lot. Aside from that, I explore new directions every week. I’ve run the gamut of career choices and examined every one of them. While I haven’t thrown all my energy into any one choice, I’ve certainly explored the options. Clearly I’m looking for anything but the quiet predictable route.

So when then am I going to be prodded to action? I keep feeling like some circumstance will force me to make a move. Maybe I’ll wake up one day and find the deep and inspiring purpose I was put on this planet for. Whatever happens, I’ve learned through my own fragile attempts at various things that the harder you have to push anything, the less likely you are to be pushing it down the right path. I am the uncarved block.

I'll take a quiet life,
a handshake of carbon monoxide,

with no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
Silent silence.

This is my final fit,
my final bellyache,

with no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises please.

Such a pretty house
and such a pretty garden.

No alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises please.
~Radiohead.

“July, July!” by the Decemberists is my song for today.

Maybe I’m just dreaming of summer, but it is stuck in my head.

I think today I figured out my calling. So if you are independently wealthy, please offer to bankroll this. I want a nice little coffee shop. Yes, I use to lust for a record store, but the days of the record store are numbered. So until they come up with a cheap and legal form of cocaine, coffee is here to stay.

So in my coffee shop, it will be the anti-Starbucks. First and foremost, no tip jar. Aside from planning to represent most of the “staff” by manning the joint myself, should I have employees, I will pay them well. I always feel so awkward about the tip jar. You’re already paying $6 for a coffee (I don’t but some do) why then couldn’t the coffee shop pay their employees? I usually get the cheapest thing most places have. Then when they hand me my 20 cents change, I’m lost on what to do. Should I dig out a dollar to tip? Should I give them the 20 cents and risk offending them? At my coffee house, that’s not how we roll.

I think the most appealing part to the coffee shop idea is I want to create I place I would want to hang out myself. I’m not a big drinker, but I like being social. At my place, we’ll have open mic nights and local bands. Yet on those nights when there are no live acts, everyone will be captive to my musical tastes and they are eclectic to say the least. You’ll be just as likely to hear some sad bastard indie band from Scotland as you are to hear Ludacris.

I’ll consult my environmental advisors (you know who you are) about which coffees are fair trade and which products do the least harm to the planet, their employees and people’s health. I picture many organic vegan foods in this place. Of course, I’d also offer other things, but I would truly want anyone to be able to come in and enjoy the environment and what I’m selling. It would be an environment where hippies, yuppies, Goths and anyone else can come in and find they’re welcomed.

So maybe this dream is far fetched. I like to dream. It is the “doing” that would be critical. This same dream is peppered with visions of selling my car and biking to my coffee shop. As well, it involves me writing the great American novel by day. Unfortunately I’m far too practical and grounded in the real world to get this off the ground.

People are weird sometimes. I went into the Hess station to get my usually Diet Code Red Mountain Dew (hey, two free plugs). Anyway, the drink came to $1.04. I handed the cashier a $5 and waited for him to make the change. He stared at me and I told him “Sorry, I don’t have 4 cents.”

So he makes a big production of digging the 4 pennies out of his pocket. I politely thank him, but honestly he could have just made change for all I care. His response was “pay it forward.” Ok dude, paying it forward applies to real gestures. Giving someone your kidney and then they turn around and donate platelets that is paying it forward. Giving someone 4 cents because you didn’t feel like making change hardly qualifies as the stuff screenplays are made of.

For some reason, the media likes to keep things hidden from us. Here is a link for the cartoons that are causing so much anger in the Muslim world.

Yesterday was one of those weird days that you’re later forced to make sense out of. I wasn’t feeling well when I woke up at 5 AM to thunder and lightning. Mind you it is February and even here in the lightning capital of America it isn’t normal to have storms in the middle of winter. I’ll leave that evaluation to the meteorologists.

I woke up feeling pretty bad. I had a massive headache and didn’t sleep well. So I did what I do about 3 times a year and called in sick. I always feel such guilt for doing it, but I wasn’t feeling good and I was exhausted. So I’d say it is justified. I popped a couple of Benadryl and drifted off into a blissful sleep. That is until my not so happy girlfriend showed up. Apparently she was trying to call me that morning (I’m a firm believer in tossing the cell phone in another room while I sleep.) Unfortunately, without a house phone, if someone really needs you, they’re out of luck.


So she had called me and got my voicemail. Rightfully so, she wasn’t happy. She left in the morning heading off to work and noticed some noises coming from her tire. Long story short, her tire was flattened and she was stranded on the side of I-95 while I blissfully slept. Luckily a couple pulled over to help her and got her spare on the car. So she came home maybe 2 hours into her day soaking wet. Since I was home, I told her I would follow her over to buy a new tire or fix the one she already had. About 20 feet into our journey, she realized her spare was flat now.

So, we ran to the gas station and got Fix-A-Flat for the spare. I hooked it up and was quite proud to fulfill my manly duty of fixing her tire. Proud that is until she noticed all the foam coming out of the other side of the tire. It was off the rim. I don’t take to fixing car things the way most men do. I know a little bit about them, but just like computers, I hate fixing them. So I grump and cuss and generally get in a crappy mood. Add the headache and the sleepiness Benadryl always brings and the last thing I want to do is jack up her car.


So, I jacked her car up to put the spare from my car on it. I told her to go ahead and call AAA just in case because I had visions of me failing at the mission. For some reason I always doubt myself. In the end, I was able to change the spare out and get mine on her car. We successfully dropped the car off to get a new tire. By this point, I realized I was not going back to bed. So we decided to get lunch. On the way, we noticed my car was really acting up. Long story short, I have had it in 5 times because the clutch is just not right. It makes a horrible noise when you press down on it and it really acts up in low gears (IE lunging and stalling). Since it was being extra obnoxious and we were already dealing with car issues, we decided to take it to the Honda dealership were I got it and have the mechanic look at it again.

I road with the mechanic and insisted he drive it so he could see what was wrong with it. Now, anyone who has drove or even heard this thing will tell you it was jacked up. The mechanic heard the noises and tried to tell me it was the sound of the foot on the pedal. I about lost it there. He explained to me that they have done all they are willing to do. A little back story yesterday was my 6th visit for the same issue and they had promised me if they couldn’t make it go away, by my third trip they would get a new transmission. It is a Honda and they are notoriously reliable. So the last thing they would want is someone driving around a 2003 Civic with a transmission that is already jacked up. At least, one would think.

Long story short, the guy sprayed what looked like WD40 on the pedal and sent me on my way. I drove 5 feet before the noise returned. Six visits and they couldn’t solve this problem. Honestly, based on how quickly the clutch issues arose after I bought the car makes me wonder if the last owner didn’t just treat the car like crap (or drive it through a flooded street after the last couple of busy hurricane seasons.) So we went home.

It didn’t take me too long to decide I had to get them to admit there is actually something wrong with the transmission. So I called the guy I bought it from and told him I would like to come trade the vehicle in. I figured the service records would show him a clear pattern of problems. At the very least, the sales team would not give me a good trade in on it once they heard the clutch. It was my bluff. I was really relishing the moment they came in after evaluating my trade to tell me they didn’t want it because the transmission isn’t working right. Instead, they never mentioned it.

What they did have was a car almost exactly like the one I traded in for the Civic. I bought the Civic to get better gas mileage. Plain and simple. I had an SUV before and felt a lot of guilt about driving so far in one. Truthfully, it gets good gas mileage for an SUV (high 20s) but it is still an SUV.

When the dealers offered me the same vehicle I had before, it was a nerve racking moment. I only considered going back to it because the one I originally had was great. It was fun to drive and had zero issues. I only traded it in for the more fuel efficient Civic. Seeing as next week I’ll be about 4 miles round trip from my job, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea to go back to it.

My only dread is the crap I’m going to catch. Firstly, I have had a steady track record of trading cars averaging about 1 car a year. I’m not rich. These are used vehicles. Usually I trade them because they have some major issue. In the case of yesterdays trade, they were paying off my Civic and giving me my old car basically for what I traded the same model in for last year. My payments went up $20 a month, but my insurance is also going down $160 a year ($13 a month less) with the new ride, so it is actually a $7 difference each moth.

I didn’t feel any guilt about trading the Civic in to the people who sold it to me in the first place. I would have never sold it to a person knowing the transmission has issues on such a new car. Cost wise, it was a “no harm no foul” scenario for me. The part that truly irks me is that they sold me this Civic probably knowing something was wrong with it. Worse case scenario, they’ll lube the clutch and transmission up really good and pass the car on to someone else. Then they’ll go through the cycle of bringing it in to the repair shop. Honda will keep lubing the clutch until eventually it hits 100,000 miles and is no longer there problem.

Truth be told, I think they negotiated the deal yesterday with me because I have been such a pest. They’ll be glad to be rid of me. Maybe the next person who buys the car will just ignore the obvious problem until its no longer under any warranty. Of course, they may replace the transmission now. I’m guessing they’ll have an easier time negotiating the replacement knowing they can turn around and sell the vehicle, probably for thousands more than they gave me for it. I regret nothing more than trading in my old ride for this Civic in the first place. Prior to the Civic was my first ever new car and I knew its history from day one. Unfortunately, like most people, I can not afford a new car. So I’m gambling on another used one.

One of my coworkers just walked by singing the milkshake song. Is that a not so subtle hint you found my blog?

I like the new Pink video. She really has a point since it seems our culture is celebrating stupidity these days. Young girls are seeing this and thinking it is something to emulate. So maybe Pink will be a good influence.

I skipped the speech last night. It is always so poorly delivered and smells so much like the bull$h1t it is that I can not stand to see commander and thief talk. By all accounts, it sounds like the preamble to war has begun with Iran. Sure, they cut the UN seals on their nuclear toys. So maybe they’re on their way to constructing WMDs. What about North Korea? They have weapons of mass destruction. They’re ready to go. They could launch any time. How do we know this? Because they told us so.


Unfortunately they don’t have anything we want in regards to resources and they probably can only get their missiles as far as California. Aside from the Governator, it is a state full of liberal Hollywood types and gays, so who cares? Not Bushy. So we march to war back in the Middle East. Will the ultimate settlement there have a name paying tribute to those who fought bravely for it? I suggest Halliburtonia. Anyway, when is the gas getting cheaper?