Thursday, January 15, 2009

Me Me time. (That's how I think it should be pronounced anyway.)

Rules:  Something about six non-important things about yourself?  Not really sure.  I skimmed that part.  Looks like the rules were pretty loose anyway.  By this time, I’m sure all three of my readers have seen what’s coming next, so really this is just an exercise in repetition.


1.  I wear socks.  All the time.  I hate being barefoot.  This is of utmost importance; so don’t think that I’m trying to pass my sock-wearing habits off as non-important.  To the contrary, I’m working on a piece of legislature right now that would require all people within a radius of 2 miles of my person to be wearing socks at all times.  Yes, even in the shower.  I know you’re thinking, “How the heck are we supposed to know when we’re within 2 miles of you?”  If this were five years ago, I would have suggested a rotating shift of three, brightly painted helicopters with several orange lights hovering above me at all times.  Basically, if you can see the helicopter, put on your damn socks.  But it’s not 2004, it’s 2009.  If you don’t have a smart phone already, move to Montana because we don’t need your kind around here. We need you in Montana, where the only form of long-distance communication is a series of 43-year-old tin cans connected by some fishing line.  It’s true, look it up.  I have an iPhone, and that’s really what’s most important.  I will commission a government-approved team of iPhone developers to produce an app that monitors my location via the built-in GPS.  Everyone else in the world will then get a separate app for their smart phone of choice that will alert them once they step inside my 2-mile radius.  A simple text message telling you to put on your damn socks will be sent to you.  Obey or be forced to wear a red letter “S” on all of your clothes for a period of no less than 17 years.


I’m sure you’re thinking, “that Constitutional Amendment will never pass.”  But you forget that I’m in Illinois where we [are in the process of impeaching our governor].  Anything goes.  I also possess a dangerously low comprehension of how Constitutional Amendments are made.  That combination could just be crazy enough to work!

 

All that aside, what you don’t know is that when I put on my socks in the morning, I analyze them to determine which one looks like it would be more comfortable on my right foot and which one would be more comfortable on my left foot.  I consider this to be non-important.

 

2.  I still believe I have a shot at being a professional athlete.  As a result of this, I spend the majority of every day not practicing because I also believe that I am naturally gifted.  I keep changing the sport though, because I still haven’t found the one that I’m naturally gifted at yet.  Is procrastination a sport?  Don’t get me wrong, it would be awful television, but I would accept a simple 10-year, $40 million contract to go pro.  That’s only $4 million a year, which for a professional athlete, especially one of my caliber, is pretty cheap. 


3.  I suffer from trichotillomania.  Don’t think for one second that I’m going to tell you what that is.  Today, you will learn something.  You will learn what trichotillomania is, or you will learn that you don’t like me.  Either way, I’m an educator now and I get to update my résumé.


4.  I love to solve puzzles.  Fortunately, I’m ok at it, otherwise number four here would be designated, The Sad One.  Imagine a world where the only thing you like to do is the one thing you are exceptionally bad at…  That is the definition of tragedy. 


TRAGIC YOUTH

By Jon

1/15/09


INT. LIVING ROOM – JUST AFTER SCHOOL


A small child comes bursting through the front door and runs to the coffee table.  A few seconds later, the mother appears at the door.

 

                                                CHILD

                        Mommy, can I do a puzzle?  Pretty, pretty please?

 

We see the mother’s eyes slowly start to swell with tears.  When she can no longer bear it, she runs to the bedroom hysterically, with tears streaming down her face.

 

                                                                                                            FADE TO BLACK.

 

5.  I use Google’s Chrome as my primary desktop web browser.  I think I’m alone on this one.  It can’t do everything that I want it to, but it handles most things quite well.  For those rare times when I need to do something that requires IE or Firefox, I just open them and have at it.  The only problem I ever run into is with the address bar in every other browser.  I’ve become so accustomed to that also being a search box in Chrome that I probably look like a moron to strangers when I accidentally forget that I’m at work and IE doesn’t support that feature.  I’m sure they feel sorry for the sad little boy that can’t even surf the interwebs properly.  It is my fault for trying something new and sticking with it when virtually no one else did.  I like to think Google will offer me a job based solely on the fact that I’ve been a Chrome user since day one and refuse to turn my back on it.  I will become their Chrome shill should they so choose.  I have almost no experience at being a professional shill, but my amateur shill efforts in the Tivo and iPhone arenas are pretty well documented.


6.  Daily lessons are an important part of life.  I take these lessons in and ponder them at length over a glass of sherry and a slice of Brie.  The other day, it was brought to my attention for probably the fifth or sixth time by my Girlfriend that a double space is not required after a period at the end of a sentence.  My Girlfriend is a person with a very special set of skills that make her an authority on this subject.  I had rejected these claims of hers in the past citing my own degree in English, but they were always met a dismissive, “ok.”  You know the kind, it’s usually paired up with a slight head nod and it smacks of your-an-idiot. 


--Quick aside—

A degree in English requires almost no knowledge of proper grammar, spelling or neat penmanship.  Those sorts of things often accompany an English degree simply because you are required to read an exhausting amount of literature and write endless papers that no one really wants to read.  Some of this literature **cough** fantasyandfairytales **cough** is written with such reckless abandon for the English language that it aptly gets filed under the category of Abomination. 

--End aside—


For whatever reason*, I picked up a professionally printed book and took a close look at it.  I blacked out shortly thereafter, so who knows what I saw.  All I know is that I put two spaces after a period because that’s how I like it.  The point is that my Girlfriend is probably right, but we’ll never really know for sure because I blacked out and can no longer read anything printed that I didn’t write myself.  It’s weird but true.  You can’t make this stuff up.


Well there you have it Madelyn.  I’m sorry it was short, but I like to be brief.  That’s just how I am.  Hope it was worth the wait.


And now, I will tag Google.  I tag them to offer me a job.  I’ll do anything as long as I can do it from home and it doesn’t require that I eat any mysterious meat-substitute products that show up at my door.


*If I’m not mistaken, this was the only time we’ve ever had that conversation where a professionally printed book was within arms reach.