The Happiest Place on Earth

I've been meaning to write about our trip to Disneyland for days and days...actually, ever since we went there. I started to write about the experience, journal style, but felt it was just too vanilla and wasn't carrying the weight I wanted.

The trip was fantastic. My lovely mother in law treated Sherida, Haley, Sammy, and I to 2 nights and 2 days at the Disneyland theme parks for Haley's 4th birthday back in September. We drove down on a Thursday night, which was a surprisingly easy drive, and were able to hit up Disneyland on a Friday. We had a real nice suite at the Annabella hotel, which was walking distance to 'THPOE' (The Happiest Place on Earth).

Friday was Haley's 4th birthday and she was just about ready to shatter with excitement. Haley was nearly shattering with excitement. I hate to say this but I was 'sweaty palm' nervous in the morning thinking it was going to be just a hellish day. I was worried that we were going to have multiple meltdowns with both Sam and Haley. I envisioned poop explosions and new Bathrooms of the World stories. But the day went incredibly smooth. It was so much fun watching Haley, and reliving the old memories, and drinking frozen lemonades. Needless to say they were times I will cherish forever.

But who cares right?

Now, being that we had Sam, who couldn't go on many rides (we did take him on Pirates of the Caribbean and on the initial drops down the ride Sam screamed bloody murder seeing his short life flash before his eyes. And it wasn't like a continuous cry/scream, it was just one sharp, piercing, 1-yr-old-thinking-its-over shuddering-gut-wrench. It was hard for him to process what was going on, so...we decided to go on it again because there was no line. We had to...no line, right?)

As the day progressed, I realized how lucky we were. There were so many fat people. THPOE showcases a great cross-section of America and America's collective weight problem hits you right in the face at Disneyland. I know that I'm on the huskier side of things, and I know plenty of people that carry a little extra lovin', but I'm talking about a straight up obesity parade. I've never, NEVER, seen such a dense collection of Rascals and Larks. Ridiculous - to the true meaning of the word - these people are (and should be) the frequent subject of ridicule. If you don't know what I'm talking about click here. And these people, who weren't disabled but stricken with chronic laziness, were rude on top of it all. I was sharing a nice moment waiting in line with Haley and I here this, "Excuse me. Excuse me, EXCUSE ME!" and it was a freakin Rascal rider trying to cut in line. Thinking quickly, I unwrapped the butterfinger in my pocket, waved it in her face then threw it about 30 yards away into a small bush at the base of a Palm Tree. The woman looked at me like I was crazy, but then yelled at her sister to grab it before the pigeons do...but she was too late. The pigeons had torn it to pieces leaving only shards of yellow and brown. I laughed and laughed.

As she drove away the back of her shirt said "I do not tolerate stupid people". The irony was blatant.

The Happiest Place on Earth is also the Meltdown Capitol of the World. Everywhere we went there was a kid having a stage 5 meltdown. I guess its just too much for many little minds to handle. All the hype, all the sugar, the Its a Small World ride, fake Disney Characters...its a lot to bite off for a child. It made me very proud of my kids to say the least.

We get back to the Annabella Hotel after a tremendous day; no casualties, no meltdowns, no poop explosions, no Bathrooms of the World #391. After a dip in the pool, my Mom-in-law talks Sherida and I into going back to THPOE to have some fun, just mom and dad. We were beat but thought we'd make the best of it. There was going to be a fireworks show, Sherida was craving some ice cream and I was determined to find beer.

We made our way back in on a Friday night, and the crowd going down main street towards the Castle was packed in like a fatty in a Rascal. Ridiculous. The street was roped off for crowd control. In fact, it felt like all of Disneyland was roped off. Apparently the crowds get pretty crazy during the fireworks...I can't Imagine how they'd coral all the meltdowns and runaway Rascals without ropes. What happened next was probably one of the most interesting things that has ever happened to me or Sherida. Looking back its absolutely hilarious, but at the time, Sherida and I were literally afraid and tortured. THPOE changed into a place of abject terror.

Sherida was extremely excited to get an ice cream at the parlor on main street, so when we saw that the line was 89 people long, it crushed her little heart. "We could wait," I said, but we agreed that we'd miss the fireworks. And the way everyone was packing it in, we figured this had to be one hell of a show. So we postponed the ice cream and I offered that maybe there'd be some in the 'French Quarter'. Truth be told, I felt the French Quarter in THPOE was our best chance at scoring real beer. 2 birds with one stone, right?

Wrong.

As we followed the heard of people slowly trudging through the roped off, designated transit areas, I literally felt like I was in a herd of cattle and naturally began to moo. Sherida elbowed me so I stopped. Sherida was now beginning to get edgy. We were packed in a slowly moving, 15-person-wide line heading towards the French Quarter in hopes that we'd find ice cream, beer and a place to enjoy that ice cream and beer. It was like a post apocalyptic movie where everyone has to be dog-tagged and wait in incredibly long lines for nothing. Somehow the human tide took us to the Jungle Cruise and the Indiana Jones ride. I don't know how we got there but I know that if we wanted to go anywhere else it would have been instant peril. As we mulled along like prisoners of war, something caught my eye. It was a small alleyway heading towards the French Quarter.

I grabbed Sherida's arm, looked her dead in the eyes and screamed, "WE HAVE TO GO NOW!" She looked at me, confused. I yelled again, "IT'S OUR ONLY CHANCE! IF WE DON'T GO NOW I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO US!" With a reaffirming nod, as if she was saying, its time, we bolted right. Dodging families and fat people, we hit the alley with a speed that rivaled the fastest motorized wheelchair. Sherida glanced at me for a moment, cracking a small smile. I felt exhilarated. Only to turn the corner into the French Quarter and feel my heart sink to the bottom of my soul.

Rope. A swarming sea of people. No beer. No ice cream. No sanity for poor Sher-Sher.

The crowd was overwhelming. "Which way do we go?" "I have no idea."

In the French Quarter, we shimmied into the crowd flow that was heading towards the waterway surrounding Tom Sawyer's Island. (Its called something else now but that's like calling Candlestick 'Monster Stadium'.) As we approached the water with hopes of intersecting a crowd river heading towards the Matterhorn, every light dimmed and music began to play. Loud music that you'd hear in the opening of an old Disney VHS. All of the sudden a spotlight gleamed on the tip of Tom Sawyers Island and the crowd began to murmur in anticipation. Sherida and I stopped and squeezed to the side of the walkway, only to be yelled at by Disney security, that literally came out of nowhere, to tell to keep moving. Sherida called him a dirty pig and we moved on.

At that moment, Mickey mouse ascended to the end of Tom Sawyer's Island and began to dance to an elaborate light show. The crowd went wild. All I could think about, besides beer, was that there was a person inside the Mickey suit who lives for this moment. You could just tell by the vibrancy he was dancing. Hitting air punches with pin-point accuracy, waving at the crowd with a fervor that only a true devout Mickey Mouse weirdo would express. It was frightening.

We slowly flowed with the crowd towards the Matterhorn and felt glad to be heading in the right direction. 20 minutes later we were 100 ft further down the line and the Mickey Mouse show was still going on. STILL GOING ON??? Jeeeeeeeesus Christ!

By this time Sherida's fit to kick a kitten. Just steaming. It appeared that we were going the right way and all would be well. But no. We hit a fork in the road and the direction we were supposed to go was chalk full of people heading towards the Mickey show in the opposite direction. We began to go the wrong way, towards the far end of the park past Frontier Land, away from the exit.

NO!!!

At this point Sherida is having a full-blown panic attack and I was poised to hold her back from eating someone's face. Bordering on tears, Sherida glares at me. Don't blame me! I'm thinking...I had no idea. The crowd began to dissipate as we traveled further from Mickey. We enter a little Bavarian Restaurant and try to order beer but they just closed. Sherida and I go into the bathroom where we "Mark Piper" the paper towel dispensers. Feeling a little relief we decide to brave it back towards main street to see the fireworks. We strafe to the outside of the Matterhorn in a strategical move that would later prove costly.

As we maneuver past the submarine ride and head through Tomorrow Land, we find ourselves swallowed by yet another human cattle drive. At this point we've lost all hope, and the will to live, which really did help with Sherida's panic. When you've lost all hope, what is there to panic for, really?

Like mindless drones, we were driven towards main street. As we reached the plaza in front of the castle the fireworks started. Serendipitous as it may seem, we couldn't have cared any less. Even if we wanted to stop, there was no place to go and the security force would've surely popped out of nowhere to yell at us nicely, with a smile. At that moment I wondered if I'd ever see my kids again. I mean, I didn't really, but that's where my mind was at. I was imagining being captured in some sort of death camp scenario, only to wonder if I'd ever see my children again. A tear fell.

We passed main street and started towards the French Quarter. When I didn't think it would get any worse, my heart hit rock bottom as I realized we had made one giant circle. The horror. And to add salt to the wound, the overtly jolly music from Tom Sawyers Island was blaring, loud as ever, and there was Mickey, that little bitch!

I was fuming at this point but powerless to do anything about it. The fireworks were cracking overheard. They were piss-poor. I yelled at Sherida "What a piece of shit Firework show right!?!?" A family in front of us gave me a dirty look and corralled their kids away. Oh right, like I'm the bad guy. How dare you subject your children to this, you're a terrible parent. These are the thoughts the Happiest Place on Earth evokes.

As we past the French Quarter I blacked out. I have no idea what happened. The next memory I have is being in front of the Indiana Jones ride and feeling thankful that I still was alive, and still had my wits about me. Numb, pale, and needing alcohol, I looked at Sherida and told her that we need to keep moving before we end up revisiting the Bataan Death March. Believe me, I was dreadfully worried it would happen again.

Bravely, we hopped into the human stream heading back to main street. I mooed the whole way there. Sherida didn't utter a peep. Making it back to the ice cream parlor, we mindlessly get in line. I don't think we said one word to each other the entire 50 minutes waiting. We just felt great that we regained the control of our own destinies. Once we got our ice cream, Sherida felt much better and we caught the first human river out of there. When we broke through the exit gate I felt like I could finally breathe again. Sherida was feeling much better after eating ice cream, and we meandered back to the hotel. I was happy to lay down to say the least.

All in all it was a fantastic trip. Great times with the family. But getting involved in the horrendous crowd control during the Disneyland Fireworks show at high season was something that changed me as a person. It was a traumatic experience that could've ended us, but now we're stronger for enduring the nightmare.

Thanks for the Chocolate

Sherida called me today to let me know that she felt guilty. I answered the typical, "Ohhhh-kay".

To give a quick background, poor Haley had a bad Strep infection a couple weeks ago. The side effect has been that it hurts her to have a bowel movement. And since not going at all can prevent pain, it was an honest choice by young Haley Shea. The problem is that after 4-5 days of not going she gets real cranky, screams and cries, and doesn't have the same zest for life. If I didn't go for 5 days, I'd be pissed. This has been happening for about 2 weeks now and we need to break the spell.

We all had lunch together today, and it was nice. Haley was not feeling well and we knew why. So I get this message from Sherida this afternoon saying that she feels guilty for what she's done to Haley…just a little bit. Sherida called Haley over this afternoon and said, "you've been a good girl today so I want to give you some chocolate."

"Yey! Thanks Mommy!!!! I get some chocolate, I get some chocolate", she chants like she's taunting Sammy or something. Sam's probably looking at her like, dude, make sure that's chocolate…look at mom's face right now.

It wasn't chocolate at all…it was Ex-Lax as you might imagine…all the while Haley thinks she's getting a real treat…and in a roundabout way I guess she is.

About 15 minutes later, she gets up from playing with her dolls and runs upstairs grabbing fanny and making hectic groan sounds. Sherida listens as Haley quietly departs with what seems like 10 pounds of her own body weight.

"MOM!!! I made a HUGE poop!"

"That's great honey!" I wonder how that happened? Sherida goes up there to help her and she literally dropped a megaton bomb. I don't know how she was even getting around.

Haley's stoked and says, "Oh man I feel so much better……but it sure is hot in here."

Sherida then lets me know that she feels guilty for tricking a girl into taking ex lax, but I think that's a good mom story...there's a reason ex lax tastes like chocolate and not like cod liver oil.

Capitola's Birthday Fireworks!

I’m not writing this installment for anything other than to capture a memory. I didn’t take any pictures, and didn’t get in any pictures either. So I am kicking myself.

To celebrate the city’s 60th birthday, Capitola had a huge party in the village. There were live bands, an MC, and of course, a fireworks show.

Beforehand I was sitting at home not really doing anything. We had plans to go down as a family but Sam was done and done, Sherida couldn’t leave, and Haley looked like she was about to call it a night. So I thought to myself, no biggie, there’s always next year.

As I was sitting at the computer, Haley decides she wants to go watch the fireworks so we quickly got her a jacket and put her crocs on over her one piece Pj’s. We hop in the car, just me and her, and roll down the street to Depot Hill. Parking was real bad in the village so I thought we’d just watch the fireworks from the cliff.

We parked, and with no real plan of action, Haley grabbed my hand and we walked towards the cliffs. Haley looked so cute, with her hair tied up and her little pick jacket that she got at “Tacos” –(Costco). Under her jacket she wore her pink pajamas with little red hearts. When we reached the path running along the top of the 100ft high sheer rock, the view was beautiful. Patterned high clouds littered the sky with other clouds that appeared to be smeared by the wind. The full moon was rising over the east horizon towards the smoke stacks at Moss Landing, and the sun was setting through the trees above Capitola’s north beach. Picturesque as can be. Every now and again the a cloud would obstruct the moon and Haley would say, “Oh no, the moon can’t see me anymore.” I agreed that it was a travesty.

We walked by a few separate groups of people. Some were drinking Modelo Especial, some weren’t drinking at all. Some were sitting on the other side of the protective fence on the edge of the cliff. One group was right on the edge and Haley remarked that it was pretty dangerous to do that. I concurred. That same group was smoking a joint and the smell was much different than a cigarette, but Haley just said, “Oh no, cigarettes?” Her disappointed tone cracked me up – like it was ruining her night or something.

When we reached the Depot Hill stairs there were several photographers parked and ready. Their tripods extended topped with various types of cameras and corresponding lenses. “It’s a great night to take pictures,” Haley boomed.

Indeed.

We made our way down the stairs as two young, teenage girls gossiped behind us.
“Oh my god, I hope Joey isn’t down here, he’s such a dick.”
“Yeah but you like him a little.”
“So, I just don’t want to see him down here, he’ll like, ruin my night.”
“Whatever, I was talking to Jenny today at school and she said that Monica isn’t going to come because she has to hang out with David.”
“OMG, (she said the letters O-M-G) I can’t believe she’s hanging out with him…doesn’t she know Tyler’s gonna be here?”

“Daddy, what’s OMG?”
“I have no idea.”

We walked through the day parking lot that’s been ran by the same Mexican dude for at least 3 decades. He’s been there ever since I can remember. He’s like the parking Nazi. No matter how easy, how simple, or how clear your path is to park in a spot in his lot, his obsessive compulsiveness boils outward as he gives you intricate directions not unlike the guy who guides a jumbo jet to the terminal. I was watching him one time, and I realized that he’s been running this lot everyday for at least 30 years. If it were me? Guaranteed I’d be insane. And there he was, leaning against a car that he'd guided to safety with his arms crossed and looking very important. I thought about saying hello but didn't - I don't know why.

Haley and I passed the theater, ran into some old acquaintances and headed to the beach where we ran into more old friends. Haley wanted to go jump off the jetty so we navigated through the crowded beach. The sun was set, the moon was rising and there were no waves whatsoever. It was an unusually fogless night, and the air was much more humid than usual. Combined with the serene water, the reflections and the views were scenic, and relaxing. Scores of sailboats had parked a quarter mile off-shore to experience the show.

We staked claim to a little rock at the end of the jetty which I soon would find out to be the best seat in the house. As the fireworks began, Haley sat in my lap and we watched them together. At first they were the usual, large plumes and small explosions with big sounds. There were heart-shaped and smiley faced fireworks, and streamers that lit up the sky. After the second ‘finale’, everyone thought it was over and began to get up only to realize that it wasn’t close to over and the real ones were coming through. We had the best seat in the house, as I previously stated, for several reasons. Since we were literally on the water, the reflection of colors on the smooth ocean surface was spectacular, and we were a ways from the cliffs, so the echoes were cracking.

Haley oooed and awed. She clapped constantly and plugged her ears at times. But towards the grand finale, the fireworks seemed to double in size to the point where I was mesmerized. I was stunned. The largest I’ve ever seen. Amazing! We were completely caught up in the moment. There was a gentleman sitting nearby whom I recognized but didn’t know where from, and he was just whooping at the top of his lungs. The crowd of thousands along the esplanade and on the beach were roaring. You really couldn’t help but get caught up. The best firework show I’ve ever seen.

After the finale, Haley and I sat and talked about which ones were our favorites, and watched the crowds empty into the streets. We eventually met up with my brother and his friend Joel above 2nd jetty. It was a beautiful night. I took off then put on Haley's shoes a few more times, chatted for a bit then headed back up to the car. I carried Haley up the stairs to Depot Hill. It was a workout to say the least. People were remarking as they passed me, “Now there’s a good dad.” “When’s it dad’s turn to get carried.” I gave a laughing grunt thinking, “idiots”.

We made it to the top, surprisingly, without any cardiac episodes. We passed the dosia smokers, and walked along the cliffs to our car. Haley was passed out the moment I buckled her in. I threw on some music and on the way home it hit me. What a great night we had together. Just me and her. It’s a night I will never forget, or should I say never stop remembering. And I hope that Haley never forgets it either. These are the times when I can’t imagine anything better and am thankful for the moments.

At the Boardwalk

Venturing to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, for me, is a march into the realm of complete unease...especially on 75 cent night in the middle of the Summer. 75 cent night is when all the winners come out, and its packed. The fetid, adhesive "walk" is coated in gum, cigarettes, and the footsteps of the downtrodden. Vast crowds of fat people with strollers full of children that are too big to ride in strollers but also too big to walk. There's a pleasant smell of deep fried everything and its amazing when you see a thin person in line for the funnel cake. Every line is a huge wait, and for what? A roller coaster that doesn't even go upside down? What the hell? Or a log ride that lasts 10 minutes but you only have 5 seconds of excitement? I don't get it anymore.

Every time a go as an adult, I feel that another piece of my childhood is being torn away, another memory tainted. The Boardwalk used to have this majestic feel, a place where I'd go with my cousins and we'd ride the Rocko Planes, or the log ride and have a killer time. Now I go and its just a mockery of my own memories. Sad.

I took Haley and Sam there last week. As I learned later, waiting in line with Haley for the Merry-Go-Round, that it was, in fact, the dreaded 75 cent night. If I'd known, I would've endured Haley's imminent 28 minute meltdown by putting the kibosh on the trip right then and there. The moment we reach the parking lot ($10, thanks have a great day) the palms of my hands begin to sweat, my breath gets shorter, and I begin to talk in stunted, nervous bursts...doing the best to hide my disdain for the sake of my daughter's fun. Sam's in the stroller, Haley refuses to wear a sweatshirt, and we're off to the boardwalk...YEY!!! We pass a group leaving the boardwalk that look happy enough - well to do. Then I faintly catch the eye of the dad, and I could feel through his eyes his utter relief that they were leaving, and there were no calamities to show for it.

22 years ago, my own father wasn't so lucky. Young Danny Robertson blew out his diaper with what my dad calls an all-time poop EXPLOSION (bathrooms of the world #21) and was forced to change him in the men's bathroom, at the boardwalk, on a very busy night. Right as my dad's releasing the demons, a group of biker gang dudes walk in...mind you that the changing table is the first thing you walk past when you enter. So these biker guys are cussing and carrying on about my brother's cursed diaper - "Jesus Christ - IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT IN HEAR!! What the fuck you feedin that kid." And my dad, an engineer with glasses and a 80's pornstache, just gutted it out on clutch performance under intense pressure. Pretty much your worst diaper changing nightmare ever. Surprisingly my dad was OK, and he would tell you that the boardwalk is not on his 'favorite santa cruz locations' list.

As we approach the entrance, the DR Dipe Explosion story was well in the forefront of my mind and, needless to say, it wasn't calming my nerves.

That should say something right there that I was nervous entering a place of glee, fun, and happiness.

I feel as though I'm constantly dodging groups of people as I weave a tight line with Sam in the stroller and Haley on my arm. (Why is it that whichever direction I walk at the boardwalk, I feel as though I'm walking against the flow of the crowd? I frickin hate that!) I'm not lying about how uncomfortable I feel at this point, and my face reflects this as Haley asks me, "Dad, are you happy right now?" I gaze down to her, breaking out of my own downward spiral of thoughts and smile. "Yeah honey, I'm good, I just want to get to the Merry-go-Round." That GOD DAMN MERRY GO ROUND!! I just need to GET TO IT. Like I said, it was bad...I'm on this crazy mission to get to the Merry go Round, not step in gum, not run Sam into a drunk idiot, and make sure Haley doesn't get abducted.

Fun.

So we finally get to the line for the Merry-Go-Round and I realize that I won't be able to go on with her because I don't have a ticket and I also have Sam. My attitude and general mood sink further as I think of ways to pull this off successfully. Haley has already made friends with another little girl, slightly older than her. Her mom, a polite, squat woman offers to take her on the ride, and I oblige. Haley gets her joyous ride, and Sam and I wave to her as I put on my best happy face I could find. I really was proud and happy to watch her have so much fun though...that's why I go, as cynical as this story is, its for her and Sam and that makes me feel good.

After the Merry-Go-Round, of course the next ride she wants to go to is literally as far away as you could be in the Boardwalk. Yey. So we fly like a butterfly through the crowd passing people with "Fuck you" T-shirts, and Tesla tank tops. Large Latino families who look like they might do much of their family "shopping" at the Boardwalk, and several poorly tattooed middle agers who look like they'll smoke a cigarette before and after anything they do. Mullets? Really? I didn't know they still existed.

We miraculously make it to the boat ride, and Haley has a blast while Sam yells inaudible calls to her - probably making fun of the kid in the back seat of her boat crying the entire time. I translated for Sam - "What a little whiny bitch of a boy! He's gotta be 7 years old? WTF?" Meanwhile the kid's poor parents sit on the side of the fence, watching helplessly, as their snot-nosed son goes round and round. At one point the dad kept making a shrugging gesture to his son as if to say, look, your wasting 75 cents right now.

I look at my watch, Jesus, we've been hear 2 hours. And I forgot to mention that the whole time, and reason for being there, was to meet my cousins, who have children of their own. Luckily we didn't meet up with them before they went on the cave train, which is equally horrifying for me and for Haley...but that's another story.

So we finally catch up with them, including my brother, and we're all thinking the same thing. Why the hell did we even come here? The decision was made to leave, Haley was satisfied with two rides, I bought hot dogs on a stick for Haley and Danny, and we were out like trout. Walking to the parking lot I remembered the dad I saw when we were walking in and thought, yes, I too feel that same relief.

The kids were both passed out before we even left the beach flats and I drove home, relieved. A successful trip. No abductions, no poop explosions, no meltdowns, and no deepfried twinkies...but lord knows I wanted one.

To sum up, I hate the boardwalk - with every cell of my body, but its a sacrifice I am willing to make for the little ones.

Bringing home the Bacon

Often times when I explain to my daughter why I have to go back to work, I tell her that I have to bring home that bacon. Then she gives me this look, thinking, yeah, I guess we don't have any bacon. Yesterday I go home for lunch, and Haley wanted to go swim. I said, "Sorry Bubb, I have to go back to work." She looks me in the eye with a very serious face and says, "Because you gotta bring home that bacon?" I laughed and said yes, yes I do. I didn't realize I fell into her trap...quick on her feet she runs to the Fridge and yells, with a smug smile on her face, "but we already got some right here! -You can go swim with me now!"

Xtra Normal Version of being Hungover whilst moving

Video Game Nerds (Part 2) - Nerdology

First off, much thanks to Ben M, Tone, and others for their input on video game nerds and gamer nerdology. I worked in the video game industry for a few years, and I've come across a wealth of vidiots, nerds, idiot nerds and gamer nerds. Me? I'm a combo nerd. I'm a nerd for a lot of things, but I'm also a nerd for video games. Luckily, I have strong enough morals and priorities that video games never come before my family, outdoor activities, and work. But, unfortunately, at times they do come before sleep, chores, and reading. But, its all just entertainment. The world is changing, and soon, video games will be THE largest form of entertainment for the masses.

For those of you who think I have WAY too much time on my hands...you're probably right, but this post turned into Pandora's box...and its been in the works for a week at least.
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Gamer Nerd Classification-A Gamer Nerd will most likely be a combination of the following.
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The Stereotypical Gamer Nerd: This guy...


Nuff said. On a side note, this picture has given me more joy and utility than most pictures, ever.
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Gamestop Employee:
The Gamestop Employee is a very potent group. They almost always have long hair tied in a pony tail, if you're lucky they'll be balding a bit. Glasses are near certain and they look like they might've taken a shower yesterday because there's wax build up on their face. They break off from the stereotypical nerd because of their pretentiousness and they condescend to you no matter what you ask them. Their bravado completely transcends what is socially acceptable anywhere but inside a Gamestop. It doesn't matter what Gamestop you go to, but when you enter, the store clerks always seem to be engaged in heated conversation about something that should never be so intensely discussed...like the ergonomics of the Sega Dreamcast controller or something. In the presence of a hot woman, they're known to pee (or worse) their pants. [my wife went in to buy me a very nerdy game guide for a present once and vowed never to go back. To her, she was like Indiana Jones in the opening scene of 'Raiders of the Lost Ark"; every step was incredibly perilous and when she reached the idol (game guide) a quick grab and go should have been so simple.] Nonetheless, they'll always force their opinion on the game you're buying and they probably play games as much as they breathe.
This is the closest pic I could find (below)...but you know exactly what I'm talking about if you've been in a gamestop. If you don't, go, take the kids, its like going to the zoo. You'll be dazzled with wonderment, but feel a small pang of pity.

- Favorite Snack: Jolt Cola and Lunchables
- Chance of being a virgin: 90%
- Residency: Parents
- % of population being overweight: 33%
- Pungency of odor: Extreme
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 1:10
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MMORPG Nerd / World of Warcraft (WoW) Nerd:
The MMO/WoW Nerd is something to behold. There are several subclasses just like there are several types of people who do hard drugs...and you can find a plethora on google. WoW does not discriminate, it does not hold grudges, and it doesn't care about your family. I know people who live more of their life in WoW than not in WoW. I know people who had more people come to their WoW wedding, than their real wedding. (Dead Serious) Its crazy. I have to admit I tried it, just to see what it was like, you know...experiment. I found that I was getting into a crowd that I didn't want to be around. They were always asking me what I was doing, who I was talking to, why I couldn't be around more, if I have enough mana to cast 'intimidating shout'...etc. It got to me, so I cut it off real quick.
For those of you who don't know, WoW is an Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game (What the??) Exactly. MMO for short. And its you, playing as a fantasy character (elf, dwarf, mage, wizard, etc) and you literally go around doing quests to get experience points (xp) which makes your character stronger and better. You can make and sell things, and run around with your online buddies and do quests together. Its all a huge, incredible waste of time. I was literally running (only running, nothing else) my character through the WoW world for 40 minutes (40 FRICKEN MINUTES!!!) and I realized what I was doing, shut the game down, canceled my subscription, took a 15 minute shower and never played again. Terrible.
But WoW nerds, the stereotypical ones, are powerful in their world. They like to escape from their mundane lives as Game Testers, or students, or construction workers, or whatever, and live in a fantasy world that makes them feel as though they mean something. To me this is the worst type of gamer nerd. Many WoW nerds don't even enjoy playing, its just the addiction that drives them. They don't play any other games because WoW takes over. They're usually found in such a state of denial that they cannot be reasoned with - "No dude, its actually a really fun game." I call shenanigans!!! I could write forever, but this picture sums it up. Note the wrist guard. Donald, in real life, is a quiet clerk at Home Depot, many don't even know his name. But in WoW, he is Eliondar, the 'Feared'.


Wow Nerds in their Natural Habitat
- Favorite Snack: Funyuns and Mountain Dew
- Chance of being a virgin: 58% *Many WoW players are married to other WoW players.
- Residency: Apartment/Parents/Dorm/House
- % of population being overweight: 50%
- Pungency of odor: Above average
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 1:381
__________________________


Madden Junkie/Sports game nerd:
If you saw one of these dudes on the street, or at a party, you'd never know they were a gamer nerd. And they'd even tell you they aren't. "Do I look like a guy who works at Gamestop???" But they will play Madden, or NBA2K, or Tiger Woods like its more important than watching Entourage. Madden has broken the conventional barriers of game nerdom. Its taken college football players and turned them into slop in front of the TV for 5-6 hours/day. Madden has taken perfectly good, chubby men, and turned them into chubbier, worse men. They probably have a very serious fantasy football career and wear jersey's while they play. Madden Nerds will tell you everything to know about football but when it comes to executing the plays in real life, forget about it. These nerds feel an incessant urge to constantly smack talk as their virtual players pound the other team, yet, they're still just playing video games...the smack talk just seems so trite. "I can't take all the credit for this win, my little digital players went above and beyond their capabilities." Don't underestimate their insecurities as there's a fantastic chance they suffer from little man's syndrome. Its most likely that their kids always want to play, but the particular game they're in is too important to spend quality time with the little ones. (I was guilty of this literally last night. I was playing Tiger and my daughter wanted to try. I said, "no prob, let me finish this hole." 5 holes later she was asleep on the couch. I felt guilty) But these nerds will never admit to their nerdom, living in denial and wearing $120 sneakers.

- Favorite Snack: Pretzels and Coors Light
- Chance of being a virgin: 25%
- Residency: Dorm/Apartment
- % of population being overweight: 45%
- Pungency of odor: Lectric Shave
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 10:1
__________________________


XBOX Live Nerd:
These guys are another group that fancies themselves to be much more important in their video game world, than in their 7th grade Gym class, or their Best Buy job. Any time they're in front of the TV they have their XBOX LIVE Brand Headset (super gay) and talk with a touch of Tourettes. Insolence is their name - Profanity and Sophomorisms is their game. (I made up 'sophomorisms'...sounds good though.) They play Halo, Burnout, and Call of Duty and are a "pretty big deal around here - I'm surprised you didn't know that." Sometimes they're just some kid who yells at their mom to bring them more 'Lil Smokies' and curses into the mic to make them feel like they're somebody. They overemphasize and overuse the term 'Noob' and they probably do everything they can to hide the fact that they play Disney Princess. Again, they're to be pitied and stared at a little.

- Favorite Snack: Lil Smokies and Monster
- Chance of being a virgin: 89%
- Residency: Parents/dorm
- % of population being overweight: 49%
- Pungency of odor: Fairly Strong
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 1:0 (they have no online friends - its impossible with that mouth.)
__________________________


Hopeless Romantic:
This Gamer Nerd is convinced that their diamond in the rough lies somewhere in cyberspace, waiting. They play MMO after MMO longing for companionship and connection, yet, in real life, they make no attempt to even date. They're always helping others out, in-game, with favors, assistance, money, and defense. The hopeless romantic is a great online friend to have, and you don't feel as bad for taking advantage of them because it isn't real life. Ironically, I know a couple, happily married, who were both Hopeless Romantic gamer nerds - and yes, they had a "WoW wedding". So I guess they really can find their pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.


- Favorite Snack: Pop Tarts and Bawls
- Chance of being a virgin: 90%
- Residency: Duplex
- % of population being overweight: 87%
- Pungency of odor: Not too bad
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 1:4
__________________________

RetireWii Nerd
The Retirewii nerd is quite simple. They've overcome the slight depression that their kids are all grown up and now they are getting older. They see their grandkids get this thing called the Nintendo Wii. They think its "just a kick in the pants" or "the bees knees", purchase one with their Social Security Check and rationalize that its for the kids when they visit. They have wine and cheese get togethers where they play Wii Bowling, Wii Golf, and it gets to be a habit. The wife insists on getting Wii fit and next thing you know, they're playing all the time...sans kids.

- Favorite Snack: Bayer and Prune Juice
- Chance of being a virgin: 0%
- Residency: House
- % of population being overweight: 21%
- Pungency of odor: Odd
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: They have no online friends
__________________________


Dance-Dance Revolution Nerd
If you've never seen this game being played, click here. I thought that this game was solely patronized by Teenasians but I am dreadfully wrong. Your typical Dance-Dance geek is usually a teenager and probably doesn't have a lot of friends online or in real life. But, to them, the arcade is like the roller rink for your thin, middle-aged, single male, short-short-wearing neighbor. Its a place where they are free to be themselves with less ridicule. From Dance-Dance Revolution spawned the Guitar Hero and Rock band of today...so its not all weird. If you go to an arcade where Dance Dance is played, you'll likely see a foreign exchange student from Japan or South Korea just feeling it. I watched a kid, who looked like he was trying to be an Anime character in real life, play straight for 20 minutes one time.

- Favorite Snack: Bubble Tea
- Chance of being a virgin: 75%
- Residency: Host Home
- % of population being overweight: 10%
- Pungency of odor: Sweaty
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 21:1
__________________________


Guitar Hero Nerd/Rock Band Nerd/Karaoke Revolution Nerd
We all know them. We're at a party, people are drinking, and the Rock Band gets busted out. Everyone's having fun, taking turns, until Mike's had a few too many and hogs the microphone. He gets really into it, and everyone's playing along because its Rock Band, its a party, and everyone's having fun, right? After the third time through "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden its like, JESUS CHRIST, time for Mike to take a break, but he doesn't. He starts playing MC, trying to get everyone in the room to sing "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys. (I've never heard anyone come remotely close to sounding good while singing this song Karaoke style.) People mosey into the room, more to see the spectacle than to actively participate, and there you are with your hands in your pockets thinking, how did it come to this? Are people really singing along? Rock band nerds...always a good reason to get another cocktail.

"Caaan't stand it, I know you planned it! Ima set astray, this wadgyway"...*high pitched, screetchy voice.

There's also people that are WAY too good at Guitar Hero? I watched some competition on MTV where the scoring was based on Difficulty, Accuracy, and Theatrics. The dude who won was jumping all over the place, rocking out, hitting the notes, making the solo guitar face contortions, and then smashed his toy guitar on the stage. Whoa. The judges asked if he played real guitar..."Never really tried..." What the hell??? If he had spent the same time playing real guitar, he could be in a band for crying out loud! It pissed me off.
-I have no idea what's going on here but it makes me feel uncomfortable ->

- Favorite Snack: Red Bull and Vodka
- Chance of being a virgin: 48%
- Residency: Apartment/House
- % of population being overweight: 25%
- Pungency of odor: a little funky
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 45:1
__________________________

RPG Nerd
Ohhhhh the RPG Nerd, or 'Role-Playing Game' nerd. They are special. They probably look, to the layperson, like the prototypical band geek/goth geek. They like to do LARPing, or Live Action Role Playing, where they can achieve perfect dorkiness in all its glory. They are a bit different than your WoW nerds because they like to read, a lot. They like to escape into their own fantasy world and not worry about having to deal with other, or lesser humans. The RPG Nerds think of themselves as mystical and deep. They smoke cigarettes, wear trench coats and might write the occasional poem. They talk proper, and look down on athletes. RPG nerds can smell their own, so where there's one, there's usually others - playing Magic Cards, playing Stratego in a movie line, or trading fantasy books. This video exemplifies RPG nerds for me.

- Favorite Snack: Filet of Fish from Burger King
- Chance of being a virgin: 89%
- Residency: loft
- % of population being overweight: 62%
- Pungency of odor: a little funky
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 1:1

__________________________

FPS/Counter Strike Nerd
FPS stand for 'First Person Shooter' if you don't know, and includes games like Halo, Counter Strike, Unreal, Half life, Left 4 Dead, Battlefield, Call of Duty. These games best emulate real life, and because of that, you have many real life scenarios play out online, with your 'clan'. If you watched an FPS nerd play their favorite game, say Call of Duty 4, you would think, 'Geez, how does she move and shoot so quickly.' The answer is, she's played a shit ton of FPS's and if you did something that much, you'd be good too. FPS Nerds are generally regarded as the top of the food chain nerds because the games they play require hand-eye coordination, and they usually carry a fairly active social life. FPS Nerds can get TOO good...and often make playing these types of games less than fun to the casual player. Its nice to have something you can be REALLY good at I guess. Being very good at FPS's at least can measured and quantified by your scores and kills. If you claim to be epic at Role Playing Games, people just assume you're gay.

- Favorite Snack: Gamer Grub
- Chance of being a virgin: 64%
- Residency: apratments/dorm/house
- % of population being overweight: 34%
- Pungency of odor: relatively low
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 1:3
__________________________

RTS Nerd
If you knew what RTS stands for (Real-Time Strategy), then you are a definite gamer nerd. Warcraft (not WoW), Starcraft, Command and Conquer, and many others are part of this group. RTS Nerds have an immense capacity to process information, and have extreme management and organizational skills. If you're starting a company, and want to hire an operations manager, the RTS nerd is your perfect candidate. You don't need to know anything else about them. If a kid is 12 years old and dominates at Starcraft, hire him on the spot...he's a wizard. South Korea has an unhealthy infatuation with StarCraft. They have a whole series of professional StarCraft leagues where the champions of the sport are revered like pro athletes are in the U.S. Competition venues are filled with girls cheering on their favorite 5'2'', 119lb hunk who does nothing but play Starcraft in most, if not all of his waking hours. I saw a documentary on this, and most of the pro players lead a really horrible life. Its borderline slave labor. They sleep 10 to a room, wake up, play StarCraft, maybe go to the bathroom mid day, eat through a straw and go to bed at some odd hour. Its wacko. But they get paid to do what they probably would have done in Grandma's basement. Bottom line, never get into a battle of wits with an RTS nerd, when death is on the line!

- Favorite Snack: Gamer Grub
- Chance of being a virgin: 57%
- Residency: basements
- % of population being overweight: 14%
- Pungency of odor: Medium
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 2:11
__________________________

Raging Gameaholic/Vidiot
They are hopeless, forever doomed to the land of virginity, and will never really hold down a steady job. They play anything and everything, their house is a mausoleum for old game systems and computers. They rarely wear much more than their underwear, and probably have small creatures in their belly buttons.

- Favorite Snack: Totino's Pizza Rolls and Rockstar
- Chance of being a virgin: 100%
- Residency: basements
- % of population being overweight: 92%
- Pungency of odor: high funk
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 1:87
__________________________

Fanboy:
Fanboys are devoted to one particular genre, company, or character in gaming. They always put down anything that is different from what they are devoted to and are annoying to the extreme. They are always at conventions marketing for a company that would never claim to be associated with them. And they look like this...

- Favorite Snack: Fruit by the Foot
- Chance of being a virgin: 90%
- Residency: Conventions and Movie Theater lines
- % of population being overweight: 92%
- Pungency of odor: Plasticky
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 1:1 - *they only have a few friends
__________________________

Racing/Flight Simulator Nerd
Sim Nerds are, as a whole, successful professionals in real life. They spent most of their time in school, studying, reading, and masturbating, so they never really explored their passions, or go out on a limb and try something they always wanted to do. So Sim Nerds try to live the lost life of what could have been through Flight Simulators, Racing Simulators, and even Railroads. My father knows a guy who travels around to different racing venues with an elaborate setup with multiple screens and a real racing seat for his racing simulator. Needless to say, he's single, as a lot of Sim Nerds are.

--No offense to Andy, I've shared emails with him, and he was a professional race car driver for a long time...but he's the prototype in my mind.
- Favorite Snack: Cucumber Salad and a Hefeweisen
- Chance of being a virgin: 25%, probably divorced
- Residency: 2 bedroom condo
- % of population being overweight: 32%
- Pungency of odor: Lectric Shave
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 2:1 - they only have a few friends
__________________________

IPhone/Cell Phone Gamer Nerds (Casual Core)
These Gamer nerds may have played some Nintendo back in the day, most likely loved Super Mario Bros', but now they have a new IPhone and the games are "so cool!". Basically, Jeannie bought an IPhone, fell into the 'games are only $1' hype, and wanted to make sure she was getting the most out of her expensive data plan. So rather than waiting at the bank, or the doctor's office, or for that email to come in, or for anything, now Jeannie can play a POS game that some development studio put out super quick just to capitalize on the 1 million Jeannie's in the world. Wonderful. The other side of this is the Japanese. They're crazy cas-core gamers, they've been cas-core since the 80's. Always way ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to technological gadgets.

- Chance of being a virgin: 19%
- Residency: Apartment/Condo
- % of population being overweight: 14%
- Pungency of odor: Low
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 51:1
__________________________


Solitaire/Peggle/Snood/Bejeweled Nerd:
Most of this group probably denounced the video games their children played in the living room. But now the little ones are off to college, moved out, and they have a lot of time that wasn't there before. It starts off with visit to aol.com to check their aol email (who has aol email accounts anymore besides middle aged women?) Then they start playing solitaire. Its fun...its addictive and it goes really well with a bottle of chardonnay from Beaulieu Vineyards. Then, while checking their aol email, they see an add for a free trial for Bejeweled and they're hooked. Multiple nights a week are spent in front of the ole Compaq Presario, sipping white wine and clicking away.

- Favorite Snack: Chardonnay and Camanbere
- Chance of being a virgin: 7%
- Residency: Nice Home
- % of population being overweight: 15%
- Pungency of odor: None, they smell nice
- Ratio of real world friends to online friends: 21:1

Video Game Nerds (Part 1)

People who only play the occasional Nintendo game, or watch their friends, family, or significant others play video games, can’t grasp with vast spectrum of video game nerdom. These nerds range, in real life, from jocks to geeks, cheerleaders to the marching band and beyond. Video game nerdom can include a successful businessman, a South Korean model, or a Russian fencer named Nikolay Kovalev. My point being, video games are not unlike any hard core drug addiction. It knows no boundaries, it does not discriminate, and you may have video game nerds in your life, right now, without even knowing it. Sure, Kathy appears to be normal. She bathes every day, gets her exercise, works hard, and yet, maintains an online life as squad leader in Battlefield 2. Its 100% true and right under your nose.

There are different level’s of video game nerds (or “gamers” for short). Some are more casual, but get nerdwood for one particular game, or type of game. Some gamers are hard core and can rarely peel away to feed or relieve themselves. One gamer nerd enjoys sports or roleplaying games, while another can play a silly ‘solitairesque’ simple diversion for hours only to brush it off “its just a silly little game I play when I’m bored.” (We all know these people - I am one -> www.stuntdirtbike.com -> retarded)

And you can’t look at someone and know they’re a huge gamer nerd by the way they act or look. The dorkiest kid on the block could be into Magic Cards when you had him pegged as a huge gamer. Where I know some world-class athletes, who when they got out of college, played the same video game 12-15 hours per day. If you saw them on the beach you’d think, damn, they got their shit together and he must work out. Nope. He plays WoW 12 hours a day….no lie. You have your hip gamers who only play Madden and a few other sports games, and they aren’t “nerds” by the standard definition. They may coach football, play softball, drink beer with the guys, and oh yeah, they have a closet addiction to a football video game that leads to family neglect and irresponsibility. You would never call them “nerd”, but they play more video games than most “nerds”.

Video games, in general, have transcended their nerdy, dorky stereotype. Celebrities are playing Wii and PSP, retirees are playing Wii golf or Wii Bowling, or Eve Online, and children are now playing with their favorite Disney Princess. You can make money playing games now; either professionally, or within the game itself like Second life where people use real money to buy virtual real estate – Anshe Chung makes 6 figures as a virtual real estate and marketing mogul! There are even proclaimed "Gay" gamers. Things have changed man.

It’s a multi-billion dollar industry now rivaling Movies and TV. And with that, you have billions spent on marketing and advertising which socializes individuals to a more acceptable place in society, as a gamer nerd. And it’s only going to get better, or worse, depending on how you look at it.

So now let’s classify these gamer nerds, identify their habits, and figure out who they may be in your life

….next time…

Cable

After a weekend of moving, that was super smooth compared to any other moves I/we've had, I've come to a crossroads. Do we get cable, or do we go with no TV and just have DVD's, Games, Etc? I had it all planned out, everything lined up and we were gonna get a sweet deal. I had a hookup for cable internet through Comcast and a cheap plan through Dish Network that would only be about $40/month - we were going to be set. The funny thing is, the thought had entered my mind several times, 'everything is set, we're good to go'. And that thought was followed immediately by, 'dude, don't think that, because if you do, it won't work out as planned.' And of course it didn't. I only come to find out that Comcast doesn't service our area so now we're at the mercy of a company I've barely heard of called Charter...and it'll be twice as much money than planned. Then the Dish guy shows up and says that he needs permission to drill into the roof. After some emails and calls, we find out that we definitely cannot.

So I'm back to calling Charter which routs you to India (nothing new there) and I try to finagle some deals. I tell the lady on the other end that her voice sounds lovely, and she should consider going into voice-acting, to which I get no response as she goes on reading fine print (but I could tell she was smiling faintly through her legal banter). After a few more compliments that fell well short, and the fact that I told her if I was in Bangalore I would take her out for a Shahi Jaam...and again...nothing.

So she patched me over to the installation people in Arizona where I began to weasel. I ordered up what I wanted in the TV package plus the internet, and the total came out to about $125. When they told me the cost, I gave a deliberate sigh and let the conversation hang in silence. Amy, the Charter rep on the other line, stuttered then said, "is that price not working for you?" As I breathed in through my teeth I confessed, "well with our kids and all the other bills we have, and rent, there's no WAY we can make that payment...is there anyway we could get it lower?" After a lot of back and forth, she told me that she can look at what deals are available in Capitola, and I told her that I would need to talk to my wife to confirm our budget. When she got back on the line she told me she could do the same package for $77...and I was stoked. But, that was without the DVR. That could probably work, but I told her I'd call back to confirm. Judging by how much they caved on cost, my plan was to call back in the afternoon and tell them I wouldn't do it unless they threw in DVR for free, because we all know that once you have DVR, you can't go back. Its like saving up to buy a truck for a couple years only to get a bogus DWI and realize that you're still biking it. That may have happened to me. But I'd give her the hard line, we'd get DVR for free, and the Robertson's live happily ever after.

When I call back an give my coy ultimatum, she said, "OK, well I'll just take the Cable TV off the plan then, no problem. Good luck." I was disappointed to say the least but I totally went with. "OK, sounds great," I muttered...[facepalm].

Now I'm facing the cold hard fact that I'll be "Cableless" for the first time...ever...and I'm kinda liking the idea. We'll see how long it lasts. I could be sitting here a week from now, with nervous ticks, scratching my skin profusely and repeating phrases like I got the Turrets. But for now I'm into it. I'll read more, focus on music, play more games, it'll be refreshing. And I am not going to be one of those hippies that need to wash their feet and tell people in a super snob accent with my nose sky high, "Uhhh, we don't get TV..." or "we don't believe TV." This process made me wonder...do most non-TV people who appear to look down on "TV" people really think they're better, or are they just covering the fact that they pushed their haggle a little too hard with the cable company and couldn't swallow their pride?...or are they embarrassed that they can't afford it?...I dunno...either way they're assholes. I'll just admit it flat out, "umm, I'm just too stubborn and proud to let the Cable company get me." No TV is gonna be weird though.

Hell

I'm convinced there's a large spot in Hell solely devoted to moving, while woefully hungover, with 2 young children. I'm sure there are much worse things to experience in the fiery depths...like being on the bad end of a chili rainbow...but maybe the 'moving whilst hungover with kids' day in hell is the 'fun' day? Some new guy's complaining about how terrible it is to have to move with a splitting headache and nausea while juggling a 1 and 4 yr old - and you're thinking, 'Jesus, this guys has no idea; yesterday consisted of repeatedly wringing out and drinking the moisture from Rosie O'Donnell's wet socks after she'd spent a day at the air show,' this is sweet. Sometimes I'll catch myself envisioning hell, in a humorous sort of way, and realize, 'why am I always thinking about what Hell would be like when I'm not a bad person at all?' I mean, I'll probably never have to go back to Bakersfield again. BOOOOOOOOM!!!!

O.P.T. (Other people's travels)

(I want to preface this opinionated piece by saying that I have friends and family in which I love to hear about how they're doing, where they're going, how Paris was, how cute their kids are, etc. So please take this light-heartedly and with a grain of salt)

So now that we have Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, MyTwitFace, and AdultFriendFinder-(DR), etc, we get to witness our past/current acquaintances' travels. I'm on Facebook doing wholesome things, keeping it above-board of course, and "oh great, Rhonda is now in Africa!" Soooo exciting! (thick sarcasm, and I mean Dennison's think). Wasn't she just in Malaysia, and before that Uraguay? Jesus H. Christ...And here we are working since college trying to make ends meet and hopefully have enough cash to go out, and afford Christmas presents for the fam...maybe pay off a car loan. Why do my first thoughts go to negative? First I feel like, La De Fricken Da!! And move onto, man, how nice to be able to travel so freely like that..Then thoughts turn to 1) Who's funding this world tour? and 2) What is she running away from? Seriously. So as thoughts move from jealousy to wonderment, I then realize, maybe they're looking at their past college acquaintance (me), married with two kids, and see the pictures of my wonderful family and how "well" I'm doing and then, while they're sipping a red bull in a 'coffee shop' in Rotterdam , they think 'who cares about your kids, La Dee Fricken Da!' all the while longing to be home.

Its a strange world.

But either way, I've decided I'm going to do what a friend did on Facebook just the other day; he deleted 100 "friends" that were worthless to him, then emailed the rest of his friends congratulating them on making the cut. I was happy to make the team and wrote back to him expressing exactly that. I realized it was my solution to my problem. Why should I befriend people on Facebook if their pictures and status updates only make me angry, jealous, and contemptuous? Most of which I never was quite fond of to begin with...

Time to make some cuts.

Bathrooms of the World (#341)

So I’m reading on the pool deck at Cabrillo during Haley’s swim lesson, thoroughly engrossed, then all of the sudden I hear her yelling across the pool deck, “DADDY, I GOTTA GO PEEEEEEEE!!!”

I’m like, Christ, just go in the dang pool, your dad’s peed in this pool literally thousands of times. So I go and take her into the bathroom, with goggles still on, and try to explain to her softly that she should just go in the pool and not even tell anyone. And she says “But dad the teacher says I can’t”, “That’s why you don’t tell anyone Haley, geez, and keep it down already”. “But daaaaaad, I’m not supposed to…” “OK, I understand that, but a little pee ain’t hurtin no one, and you just keep it to yourself.”

Then she got all mad that it was the boys bathroom and I had to insist that I wasn’t allowed in the girls bathroom, etc. So she finished up, and I told her once again not to tell anyone about it, just go…so she runs back into the water and bellows, “My dad said I should just go in the pool next time.”

(head slap)