Happy Apple invited me to a fundraiser event last sunday. Her work had long been committed to the cause, and so had roped Happy Apple in as a volunteer, and she asked me if I wanted to tag along. Not one to turn down some time in the sun and a chance to hang out with awesome people, I naturally agreed. Plus, that little unemployed gremlin that lurks in the back of my head figured I could put it on my resume under "volunteer activities", which is currently filled with, you know, lies.
It was a fundraising walk, with the proceeds going towards helping "end global poverty", which seems admirable enough. Happy Apple and I got there fairly early, and found ourselves in loose-fitting teal shirts and hanging around her co-workers, saying "hey, how can we help?"
We said this for about half an hour, before I finally just decided to take action and start helping. I did this by moving plates... until I was told that they wanted the plates in the original spot, so I had to move them back. Then Happy Apple's boss showed up and said "I don't need you guys until later. Go on the walk, have fun!"
And so we did. We were some of the few volunteers who actually went on the walk, and it was refreshing. When we got back to Beacon Hill park, ready to volunteer our services, we found Happy Apple's boss.
"How can we help?"
"Well, grab some food, and see me when you get back. You should eat first!"
So she let us in front of the line of hungry walkers, and we got pizza and curried rice and ate away. After we finished, we lurked around Happy Apple's boss, waiting for instructions . There was already a lineup of other volunteers, looking for work.
Finally Apple looked at me. "I don't think she needs us."
"I agree. Wanna ditch this place and go to the petting zoo* ?"
"Sure."
It was the best volunteer experience ever. Because I got to feel good about volunteering my services for a good cause. I got a free t-shirt. I got something impressive to put on my resume. I got free food. And I did absolutely nothing to deserve it. And then I got to pet happy baby goats.
I should volunteer more often.
(*Not a euphemism. We actually went to a petting zoo. Get your minds out of the gutter)
An entirely untrue conversation:
"Hey, long time, no see. What's new?"
"Oh, just trying to figure out how many people we lost to the rapture."
"The Rapture?"
"Yeah. It happened last week. All the truly good christian believers went to heaven, and all the truly evil people went to hell, leaving everyone else behind." "
Oh, um. That sounds... hm. Did we lose anybody?"
"Not that I can tell. I think that means that all human beings kind of fall somewhere in the middle."
"Bet you the Christians don't like that."
"They're embarrassed that they didn't get raptured, so they're all hiding in their basements."
"...Thank God for apocalypses, eh?"
"Oh, just trying to figure out how many people we lost to the rapture."
"The Rapture?"
"Yeah. It happened last week. All the truly good christian believers went to heaven, and all the truly evil people went to hell, leaving everyone else behind." "
Oh, um. That sounds... hm. Did we lose anybody?"
"Not that I can tell. I think that means that all human beings kind of fall somewhere in the middle."
"Bet you the Christians don't like that."
"They're embarrassed that they didn't get raptured, so they're all hiding in their basements."
"...Thank God for apocalypses, eh?"
Holy crap, I have a cell phone
Fun fact. I'm a technophobe.
I realize that sounds silly, coming from a guy that blogs everyday. But it's true - I generally avoid modern technology. Until last week, I could count the number of text messages I sent on one hand. I don't own a microwave. I don't watch TV. Hell, I prefer to listen to music on vinyl, for god's sake.
And until last week, I didn't own a cell phone. And I hadn't owned one for more than five years.
See, I did own a cell phone back in the day (let's say 2004 or so). It was with Bell, and it was a Solo flip phone. I liked it well enough, although I used to get annoyed that friends would call me and hear a song play, instead of a dial tone - and the people at bell didn't get why I wanted that feature removed. They thought that all my friends wanted to hear Green Day before I picked up.
I assured them that was not the case.
However, I got rid of that phone years and years ago (let's say, 2005), when the people at Bell wound up being absolute dicks, as was the case with all cell phone companies back then. Also, being paranoid about turning your phone off while you were in class became very distracting, as my history classes all had a rule - if your phone rings, you owe the class donuts. I had to buy the class donuts once, all because my mother wanted to know if I was coming over for sunday dinner.
And so I went back to a LAN line, happy that the only time people could reach me was when I wanted to be reached. I never had to buy donuts again. And I still had access to a cell, because my girlfriend at the time carried one on her. And there was really no reason we both needed cell phones.
After the big breakup a few years ago, people kept telling me to get a cell. I went on plenty of dates, and saw a couple of people, all who thought it was weird that I didn't have a cell. Searching for jobs was weird without one, and even hanging out with my friends was sometimes complicated by the fact that I was cell-less. But I fought against it for years - one more piece of technology to carry! More stress as people contact you when you don't want to be contacted! Payment plans!
But, last week, I caved, and bought myself a shiny blue cell phone. An LG Rumour 2, for techies that are interested. You know who you are.
I've been texting like I'm trying to catch up to everyone else, or something. And using the thing like I'm welcoming myself back to the 21st century. I debated (and then declined) getting a twitter account. And I've already taken a few shiny photos, and I have no doubt that this blog will start featuring all sorts of blurry phone photos in no time.
You've all been warned.
I realize that sounds silly, coming from a guy that blogs everyday. But it's true - I generally avoid modern technology. Until last week, I could count the number of text messages I sent on one hand. I don't own a microwave. I don't watch TV. Hell, I prefer to listen to music on vinyl, for god's sake.
And until last week, I didn't own a cell phone. And I hadn't owned one for more than five years.
See, I did own a cell phone back in the day (let's say 2004 or so). It was with Bell, and it was a Solo flip phone. I liked it well enough, although I used to get annoyed that friends would call me and hear a song play, instead of a dial tone - and the people at bell didn't get why I wanted that feature removed. They thought that all my friends wanted to hear Green Day before I picked up.
I assured them that was not the case.
However, I got rid of that phone years and years ago (let's say, 2005), when the people at Bell wound up being absolute dicks, as was the case with all cell phone companies back then. Also, being paranoid about turning your phone off while you were in class became very distracting, as my history classes all had a rule - if your phone rings, you owe the class donuts. I had to buy the class donuts once, all because my mother wanted to know if I was coming over for sunday dinner.
And so I went back to a LAN line, happy that the only time people could reach me was when I wanted to be reached. I never had to buy donuts again. And I still had access to a cell, because my girlfriend at the time carried one on her. And there was really no reason we both needed cell phones.
After the big breakup a few years ago, people kept telling me to get a cell. I went on plenty of dates, and saw a couple of people, all who thought it was weird that I didn't have a cell. Searching for jobs was weird without one, and even hanging out with my friends was sometimes complicated by the fact that I was cell-less. But I fought against it for years - one more piece of technology to carry! More stress as people contact you when you don't want to be contacted! Payment plans!
But, last week, I caved, and bought myself a shiny blue cell phone. An LG Rumour 2, for techies that are interested. You know who you are.
I've been texting like I'm trying to catch up to everyone else, or something. And using the thing like I'm welcoming myself back to the 21st century. I debated (and then declined) getting a twitter account. And I've already taken a few shiny photos, and I have no doubt that this blog will start featuring all sorts of blurry phone photos in no time.
You've all been warned.
Three Strikes
I'm on a dating site again, mostly just to kind of expand my options because I've kind of been a bit insular lately. The thing is, though, being on a dating site means that you get exposed to a lot of people who are nothing like you. But this is often coupled with the fact that you're on a dating site, and you sometimes just want responses - even if they're from people who are nothing at all like you.
Men are sharks on the hunt. We can't help it sometimes. But the "shotgun approach" is definitely popular on the sites, and it's something I try to avoid.
To keep that in mind, I have a simple rule - if a person gets three strikes against them from what they say in the profile, I don't talk to them. Not talking to them because of one or two things in their profile (unless they're really big moodkillers, like she's in prison or is a fan of Carrot Top) is a bit silly. But three is a good indicator that I won't get along with this person. Even if their profile picture is incredibly hot. It's served me well.
Here's just a sample of some of the things that I count as strikes, and a bit of the reasoning why. And, like spinal tap, this list goes to eleven:
Men are sharks on the hunt. We can't help it sometimes. But the "shotgun approach" is definitely popular on the sites, and it's something I try to avoid.
To keep that in mind, I have a simple rule - if a person gets three strikes against them from what they say in the profile, I don't talk to them. Not talking to them because of one or two things in their profile (unless they're really big moodkillers, like she's in prison or is a fan of Carrot Top) is a bit silly. But three is a good indicator that I won't get along with this person. Even if their profile picture is incredibly hot. It's served me well.
Here's just a sample of some of the things that I count as strikes, and a bit of the reasoning why. And, like spinal tap, this list goes to eleven:
- No Photo: No photo makes the guy in me a little nervous. It also shows that she's not really committed to it to actually upload something. I'm not looking for or expecting bombshells, but having no photo makes me assume the absolute worst. And that's no fun.
- Sex as an Interest: Guys are going to hit me for this, but girls that list "sex" as an interest get a strike against. Why? Because, while I love sex, I find that people that list it as an interest treat it as a be-all and end-all, and that's really not fun. Either that, or they're saying they love sex to attract guys (like the girls who say they're bisexual but aren't) - and girls that say they love something to attract others are not my idea of fun.
- Kids: Kids are a strike against, unfortunately. I mean, I love kids, and I'd date someone who had kids. But when someone has kids, I have to be a bit more considerate when entering into a dating situation with them - I have to have more in common. I don't want to enter into situation where I have to be responsible if it's just for someone I probably won't really connect with.
- Many Spelling Errors/Syntax Errors: One or two is fine. But if you have a lot, it's a strike against. This may sound stupid, but it's just like a resume - you're making a profile to reflect who you are, and if you're the type of person who doesn't really go over what you produce because you don't want to look bad in front of other people, you get a strike against.
- "I Love to Travel": I'm not talking about the people who say they enjoy travelling - who doesn't? I'm talking about the people who are 23 and have been to Australia, Thailand, South America, all over Europe, and that Denny's in Arizona that has the really good curly fries. It's a strike because, well, I'm not much of a traveller. And I'd hate to be an anchor.
- 420 Friendly: I don't do drugs. I have no problem if other people do, but someone who actively smokes pot enough to put it on a dating profile automatically earns a strike. Anyone who lists harder drugs are automatically deleted.
- Smoker: I dated a smoker once. She was very gross to kiss. I'd only ever date another smoker if she was awesome in every other way. So, smokers earn one strike. Maybe two.
- Bad Music: Yeah. Someone who has terrible taste in music earns a strike. But it has to be terrible. We're talking gangster rap, nickleback, emo punk, slipknot, stuff like that. Also in this category is the person who "loves all music". Because, when you love all music, you're actually saying you don't like music.
- Physical Issues: This is my catch all term for people who have a body that isn't really compatible with mine. ie, someone who is more than an inch or two taller than me, weighs a bit more than me, has some physical characteristic I find off-putting, etc. It's only one strike, because I'd date someone who was otherwise awesome even if she was an amazon. But anyone who says that physical appearance doesn't matter is a fucking liar.
- Short replies: What I mean here is, if I write a reply to her, and it's two or three paragraphs, I expect a paragraph back, at least. Not a text message. You can usually tell these people from their profiles, when they are unbelievably terse. It's a strike.
- Apologies: People that begin their profile with "I'm just checking out this site, don't really think it'll be useful" or something like that annoy me. People who apologize for some sort of character flaw they think they have annoy me (why apologize for your kids to people you've never met? I don't get it). So, yeah, strike.
Happened to a friend of mine:
True story.
A friend of mine was driving his truck and came up to a stop light. He stopped slightly too late, and his truck was about halfway blocking the crosswalk - there was still enough room to cross without having to cross into the other lane, so my friend didn't reverse or anything.
He was talking to his passenger when, suddenly, WHAM! someone walked, full speed, into the driver side door.
My friend rolled down the window, furious, because the speed at which this guy had hit the door was sure to leave a dent.
"What the fuck, buddy? Are you a goddamn idiot!?" He shouted, red in the face.
And that was when he realized a blind man had just walked into his truck. A blind man who was now apologizing profusely. Even though, in the circumstances, it was entirely my friend's fault.
Did my friend point out to the blind man that this was the case? Nope. He just graciously accepted the apology, and drove off when the lights changed.
My friends are awesome.
A friend of mine was driving his truck and came up to a stop light. He stopped slightly too late, and his truck was about halfway blocking the crosswalk - there was still enough room to cross without having to cross into the other lane, so my friend didn't reverse or anything.
He was talking to his passenger when, suddenly, WHAM! someone walked, full speed, into the driver side door.
My friend rolled down the window, furious, because the speed at which this guy had hit the door was sure to leave a dent.
"What the fuck, buddy? Are you a goddamn idiot!?" He shouted, red in the face.
And that was when he realized a blind man had just walked into his truck. A blind man who was now apologizing profusely. Even though, in the circumstances, it was entirely my friend's fault.
Did my friend point out to the blind man that this was the case? Nope. He just graciously accepted the apology, and drove off when the lights changed.
My friends are awesome.
Weirdest Dream Ever:
I've had some strange dreams in the past. I'm usually quite good at having random, non-sensical tidbits that cause me to wake up and scratch my head. But a dream I had last week has to set some sort of recrod on the crazy scale.
I was job searching, and I got a job. It paid well, was a nine to five job, and had great benefits, so I naturally signed on. And found myself in a white labcoat with camera equipment. My job, apparently, was to film educational videos for mice, and then to record whether or not they learned anything from watching said videos.
And my very first assignment was to make a video showing young mice proper and healthy masturbation techniques, because people in the lab were worried the mice might hurt themselves.
I don't really know what to think about that. But it got weirder, because assignments two and three were odd, too.
I had to make a video teaching the mice how to speak basic phrases in spanish. And I had another one to show them the safe way to defuse bombs.
After they watched their videos, I observed them, to see if they were learning. They were not. Because they were mice.
So I got fired.
And then, I woke up.
Odd.
I was job searching, and I got a job. It paid well, was a nine to five job, and had great benefits, so I naturally signed on. And found myself in a white labcoat with camera equipment. My job, apparently, was to film educational videos for mice, and then to record whether or not they learned anything from watching said videos.
And my very first assignment was to make a video showing young mice proper and healthy masturbation techniques, because people in the lab were worried the mice might hurt themselves.
I don't really know what to think about that. But it got weirder, because assignments two and three were odd, too.
I had to make a video teaching the mice how to speak basic phrases in spanish. And I had another one to show them the safe way to defuse bombs.
After they watched their videos, I observed them, to see if they were learning. They were not. Because they were mice.
So I got fired.
And then, I woke up.
Odd.
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