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If I Talk About Snot, Will You Still Read?

Can I post about snot? Is that allowed? Is it offensive? Well, it is my blog, so I think the rules permit it.

So snot. I'm not grossed out by it so it doesn't bother me to talk about it. Snot is what it is. And it is necessary. Last month I was sick for a few weeks, which was bad timing on my immune system's part, but in it's defense, I did run myself down pretty well. Every morning I would wake up with a relatively clear nasal passage, but as the day progressed my nose kept getting snottier and snottier. I was really quite amazed with the amount of snot that I was able to produce. I thought there had to be a limit to how much mucus you could blow out your nose, but I was wrong. So very wrong. I must have gone through 3 boxes of Kleenexes and a roll of toilet paper that I stole from the men's room. The snot factory did cease though, so maybe I did reach that limit.

But that's not the whole point of this post. What I wanted to talk about was those embarrassing moments involving snot. Those moments are pure gold. For example, when you have some mucus in your nose but aren't able to blow it right away. So you're sitting there, maybe at lunch or dinner with friends, and you feel this snot but are unable to do anything about it. And then your friend says something humorous while you have some food in your mouth, so your laugh kind of comes out your nose. Then you are pretty certain that you just launched a snot rocket into your lap, but you can't tell if anyone else noticed and are hoping that the rocket at least landed in your napkin instead of your lap. This is hypothetical by the way.

Or how about when you are in a meeting and you have a runny nose. You are sitting there trying to pay attention, but really daydreaming about everything under the sun. Then you start to feel it. Something is sliding down your nostril. Your snot has become surprisingly liquid and is inching towards your lip. But how do you brush that off? You start to become so focused on the snot that you aren't hearing anything in this meeting and wondering if other people notice as well. Do you try to sniffle it back into your nose? So many possibilities.

Actually, there is really only one mature possibility and that is to polititely excuse yourself and go blow your nose. But I never claimed to be all that mature. I am still a 12 year old boy at heart and 12 year old boys aren't about to be bothered by snot.

It's a murder....mystery.

I don't think I ever got around to posting about my company's holiday party. Perhaps it's because the holidays themselves were pretty busy. And maybe it's because work has been kicking my butt since November. Or maybe it's because I never get around to updating in general. I think option 3 is the best bet. I want to update more. I really do. I'm going to make more of a concentrated effort to do just that.

Alright, back to the party. Last year's holiday party was actually in late January because of something and something else. Who knows why. And it was at the aquarium, which was a pretty cool venue, or scary depending on how you look at it. Everything was really dark except for all of the fish tanks, so to some people that might have been a little frightening. You know what was really frightening though? There was no open bar. And the drinks at the cash bar were expensive. So not much drinking went down, which is acceptable, but it just made the whole party nice and tame and pleasant. Those kinds of company parties are no good. I want to see my superiors hammered and making fools of themselves. I want to hear about inappropriate groping the next week. I want to see people dancing on tables. But alas, not last year.

Come to think of it, not really this year either. The party was held at a ranch, and we did have an open bar for 2 hours, which got everyone relaxed enough to have a good time. And there was a murder mystery dinner and really cool door prizes. And that is about all I remember? For I was sick. To combat the sickness I took a few shots of daytime cough medicine. Then my sister, who is a nurse I might add, said it would be okay to have a few beers after doing this. People, it is not okay to do this. After two beers I was drunk. Very drunk. Embarrassing drunk. Why would my sister, the nurse, tell me this? She might be trying to kill me off.

The entire dinner I felt like I was underwater. I just sat at my table staring at my plate. I would turn my head and it felt like my eyes followed about 1 minute later. My pupils were huge and it felt like all of these noises and people were floating around my head. The murder mystery people kept walking around and screaming their lines out, and I could not focus and became increasingly confused about everything. I really had no idea what was going on. And my date just watched all of this in amusement, doing the best she could to help out. She checked my pupils for me and made sure I wasn't doing anything too embarrassing. She kept encouraging me to eat more bread, but I didn't even know about this bread substance. I'm not sure I've ever felt that delirious before. It was awesome!

To top it all off, I sobered up in time for the door prizes and I won a DVD player. I really wanted the iPod, but was happy with just winning. Well actually, it was my date's ticket that won it. I think. I'm not sure. I don't remember...I was drunk.

Older

My old Diaryland entries can be found here. Now I'm on Blogger, but seriously thinking about going to TypePad. I'm thinking if I actually pay for the service, then maybe I'll update more. Maybe?

Scary

I'm not quite sure how to take this.

I must admit that I don't really know too much about Ms. Minelli, so maybe this is normal for her. The only thing that sticks in my mind, other than when she was on Arrested Development (HA!), is this one picture I saw in this People yearbook. This picture shall be known as the "Scariest Celebrity Picture Ever". Why this name, you might ask? Well, it all has to do with the four people in this picture.

1. Liza Minelli, who is obvioulsy a little scary if she is forcing bodyguards to do her.
2. That guy she married, who is incredibly scary because he looks like an alien.
3. Elizabeth Taylor, who is not so much scary as she is really drugged-out and weird.
4. Michael Jackson, who is Michael Jackson, a name that has become scary.

The picture was taken at Liza's and that weird guy's wedding, where Liz and Jacko served as maid-of-honor and best man, respectively. One word: SCARY. Who wants to look at those freaks when you are walking up the aisle? I really should try to find this picture, because it is so freakin' scary to look at. You can just look at that picture and feel the craziness that must have been present at that ceremony.

But back to the bodyguard. Call me crazy, but I'm thinking it couldn't be too hard to defend yourself against Ms. Minelli. I'm not talking about beating up on her, because I am not about hitting the ladies, but I think a person in somewhat normal shape could probably outrun her. Or hold her arms down. Or push her onto a couch or something. Or throw her drugs across the room, forcing her to chase after them while you haul ass out the room shouting, "Damn bitch, you crazy." It just doesn't seem like that would be impossible. Nevermind the fact that it is a lot harder to force us guys to have sex with someone considering we have to, ahem, perform and all. We're not talking about Sarah Michelle Gellar here. I don't think the bodyguard was jumping at the chance to bed Ms. Minelli. So I'm not sure about the validity of this story. I guess we shall wait and see what kind of counter-suit Little Liza will fire back. One can only hope that it involves Michael Jackson in some way.

Chair Love

When I moved out of the folks house I didn't really have too much in the way of furniture. Somehow I managed to find college roommates that came with couches, chairs, keg shells, etc. It was all very convenient in college because all I ever had to move was my bed, a desk, a dresser, and a mini-fridge that served as one very good beer fridge. But once you decide to move out on your own and you realize you have nothing except for a bed, and a desk, you also realize that this apartment just got a lot more expensive. And then, the way I see it anyways, you have three options. You can find whatever hand-me down stuff you can, you can buy new and shiny stuff, or you can say "Screw it, my friends are sitting on the floor." Well, I chose the second option. Living with the folks gave me some extra dough and I thought I would invest it on some furniture.

Specifically, a leather recliner. The most AWESOME leather recliner that is so COMFORTABLE and lets you take the BEST naps and feels so COOL on a hot day. I'm a little in love with the chair, okay? And this chair came with all these months of no payments, which was a very nice thing for it to do. So month after month went by and a bill never came. And then a few more months went by. Then one month a bill did come, but it was for a pair of slacks that I bought for work at the same department store where I purchased my girlfriend, the leather recliner. So I responsibly paid off the slacks, never noticing that the bill for the precious chair was behind it. Then the next month another bill came, which I thought was odd because I had not purchased anything from the department store in the past month. And on this bill there was a late payment fee. The hell? So I go back to the previous bill and sure enough, they included the chair bill in a way that made it look like the second page of the slacks bill. Who even looks at the second page of a bill? So I freak out some because I hate late payments and am convinced my credit rating is shot to hell, and I decide I need to call the hotline and cleverly work my way out of the late fee. I decide I just need to play really stupid. This is pretty much how the call went:

Me: I just got a bill for my leather recliner and it has a late charge on it. I never got the first bill.
Customer Service Lady: Did you receive any type of bill last month?
Me: A bill for a pair of pants.
CSL: Did you look on the second page? There was a separate bill for the chair.
Me: [Thinking: Holy CRAP! She's onto me.] A separate bill? Behind the other bill?
CSL: Yes.
Me: You're saying there was a second bill. Behind the first. Made to look like the second page of the first bill.
CSL: Yes.
Me: Hmm...that seems a little confusing.
CSL: Not really, if you would look through the entire thing.
Me: Right. Well, maybe that is what happened. I guess I should really look from now on.
CSL: That would be helpful.
Me: Then I wouldn't get late charges. I hate late charges. Don't you wish they would just disappear?
CSL: .......
Me: Cause I would have paid it on time. I promise that I would have. I'm even going to pay it in full now.
CSL: .........
Me: [Thinking: Good God she's going to make me come out and ask it.] So, about that late charge....
CSL: ........
Me: Can we do anything about that?
CSL: It's gone. Goodbye.

She completely called me on the oblivious act, but I did get the late charge removed from my bill and my permanent credit history. So clearly, advantage Me.

I Voted. I Won't Die.

I voted yesterday. I am proud of that. P. Diddy will not kill me now. That's not true for all of my friends. I called to tell them 'Goodbye' yesterday because I was certain that P. Diddy was going to round up a posse and go out and kill all of the young non-voters. That's what the shirt says. Vote or Die, Beyotch. It must be true.

This was the first presidential election that I voted in. I was able to vote four years ago but realized on voting day that I was not registered in the city where my college was located. I realize now that that was no excuse. Over the past few months I kept hearing how this election was the most important election in a long time. How this election could possibly be the most important election in people's lifetimes. Honestly, I didn't buy it . I didn't see how this one was any different than the one four years ago. However, something clicked yesterday while I was standing in line at my polling place and while I was watching the news last night. This election is huge! Whoever wins this thing (and I'm reading right now that it is Bush) will win with a tiny margin of victory. So tiny. That means that the winner will have about half of the voting population who thinks that they should not be in power. They will have to attempt to win over half of the voting public in the next four years. That seems crazy to me. This election is so devisive. Is that a good thing? I don't think so. What will the affects be from an election that pretty much splits the population down the middle? I guess we will see.

But no matter what the outcome, I loved what I felt yesterday as I was walking into the voting place. I loved feeling like I was fulfilling my civic duty. I loved that there was a line. I loved that everyone in that line was different. I loved that Florida seemed to get it right this time. I loved that there seems to be an overwhelming interest in this election that has not been seen in a while. I love that I am a part of that. I love that even though we all can't agree on the political issues, we can agree that voting itself is important and crucial. Some people say that it doesn't matter and that their votes do not count. I can see how they think this. The electoral college is a little antiquated, but in a small way, your vote does count. And even if your state's electoral votes go to the other guy, at least you let your voice be heard. At least you have the right to complain if you don't like the way the other guy is running the place.

Son of a bee sting, this sounds so idealistic. I have to be idealistic though. P. Diddy is out killing some of my friends.