Flibbertigibbet

David Morse

David Morse is on House tonight! He thinks he has an STD.

Now he's giving Dr. House a dressing down. He's kind of scary, but still sooo hot.

Dr. House is taking his temperature rectally! Oh, how the mind wanders!

I feel lightheaded.

Vertigo: I'm Falling Over Myself for You!

I had a weird case of vertigo and a headache this morning. I also woke up with a sore throat.

I didn't have breakfast, but when I got to work I had two glasses of orange juice and a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and some water.

My friend Daniella thinks maybe it was low blood sugar or something, because, well, it really could be.

But I ate lunch just a little bit ago and I can still feel it although it's not as strong as it was.

It's quite unsettling.

Update: I am having a host of odd, slight symptoms. I've slight sore throat, slight cough, slight congestion, slight headache, slight vertigo, slight nausea. I've never experience anything quite like this before. Weird.

Evanescence

Whistling and the sound of Amy Lee's voice are the two most annoying, allegedly musical sounds known to man.

Halloween Costume

I didn't have Halloween plans, but I wrote to a friend whom I hadn't seen in a while and she invited me to a party with her. That meant that I had to dig up a costume.

OF COURSE, you're thinking I would dress up like Steve Irwin like on the last South Park episode that everyone is talking about. And, yes, I did consider it, but it was on South Park. I'm SURE it's being done.

And I did also suggest an Amish Schoolgirl (complete with bullet hole in head) costume to my friend.

Yes, I have a completely inappropriate sense of humor.

But I'm not dressing up as any of those because, you see, I'm cheap. I'm just not willing to spend much money on a costume.

So, I'm just gonna find a Superman t-shirt to wear under a dress shirt and tie. It'll be like I'm Clark Kent, see? I have to figure out some way to make my hair do a spit curl. Without spit.

You know, it's too bad orange afro wigs are, like $30, because I was this close to being Little Orphan Trannie.

RARRR!!! I'M A DINOSAUR!

The sandwiches that I made for my lunch today were soooooo good.

The title of this post has nothing much to do with anything except I like dinosaurs.

Gay Marriage Legal in NJ

So, in New Jersey gays can get married. Or something.

One of my coworkers stopped by my cube and said, "We can get married in New Jersey now."

I said, "Really?! Wow! That's great. Of course, I'm not going to New Jersey, but still. That's great!"

And he said, "I don't think you would want to marry me anyway. I'm just full of baggage."

Say what?

I didn't ask him to marry me and I didn't take his announcement of a headline as a proposal either.

Weird.

In Which I Discover that My Standards Might Be Too High

Scene: The subway station at 23rd and 8th

Characters:
Flibby - A dashing and completely sober young man
Kenny - A stocky, stoned and very drunk guy of about the same age

Kenny: What's your name?
Flibby: I'm sorry?
Kenny: What's your name?
Flibby: Flibby.
Kenny: Kenny.
Flibby: Nice t' meetcha.

[Pause]

Kenny: You gay?
Flibby: Heh. Yeah.
Kenny: Me, too.
Flibby: Great.

[Pause]

Kenny: Where do you live?
Flibby: Hell's Kitchen.
Kenny: What?
Flibby: Hell's Kitchen.
Kenny: Oh.

[Pause]

Kenny: I'm just waiting for the train.
Flibby: Yup. Me, too.

[Pause]

Kenny: Shit.
Flibby: What:
Kenny: I pissed my pants.
Flibby: What?!
Kenny: ha ha ha I pissed my pants ha ha ha
Flibby: Damn, dude.

[Pause]

[The A Train arrives]

Flibby: Well, here it is.
Kenny: Oh? What is this?
Flibby: A
Kenny: Oh.

[Pause]

Kenny: Well, I'll see you.
Flibby: Ok.

[Train doors close and the two part ways]

See there? I totally could have had a new boyfriend right there. But noooo... he was "'too drunk" and "too stoned" and "too covered in his own urine."

Clearly, I'm too picky about these things.

Sexually Confused

I haven't mentioned this before because it kind of freaks me out a little bit, but I can't hold it in any longer.

There is this girl in my office who completely turns me on.

She's got this whole sexy librarian look going.

She has beautiful, smooth, creamy skin and cheeks that look like they were kissed by pink roses. She is sort of tall and holds herself with confidence and poise, but somehow she manages to come off as petite and extremely feminine. It's not like she's a supermodel or anything, but she is so beautiful!

Great legs. Don't get me started.

I'm totally gay and all but this woman is so frikkin' attractive.

My New Lockerroom

I changed my "home" gym the other day. I belong to NYSC and they have locations all over the place. You can go to any of them during off-peak hours, but you can go to your home gym any time it's open. I changed my gym to one closer to work so that I can work out during lunch and right after work.

So, tonight I went over there for my first workout in the new gym.

When I went into the lockerroom to change my clothes, I selected a bench near some available lockers and set down to take off my shoes and change my clothes.

Immediately, a man came into the lockerroom and walked toward me. He came over to my bench and stood next to it and stared at me while he took off his clothes and I changed mine.

Next, a guy came out of the showers and went to the lockers opposite the ones I was putting my stuff into. He started getting dressed, but didn't face his lockers, he faced the rest of the room.

Then some guys over to my left were doing the same thing.

Now, where I come from, one minds one's own business in the lockerroom and faces one's locker. You don't frolick about naked or pay an excess of attention to the other men in the room.

Not here.

I asked a friend of mine who works out there rather frequently. It turns out that I've joined a cruisey gym.

On the upside, my membership fees are $20 cheaper each month.

But it's kind of obnoxious to have people staring at me while I'm minding my own business. I'm all for the man-on-man lovin' but there's a time and a place and the lockerroom is not the place... except in some certain videos. And I don't want my gym to be the home of THAT lockerroom.

And there do seem to be more attractive men at this gym than my old one, so that's kind of good.

But now I'm going to spend lots of time thinking about fungi and little tiny bugs and all sorts of unpleasant things. Things Purel can't help with.

Hey, maybe I'll find a workout buddy at this gym since they're all so friendly...

One of Those Days

So, work was kind of a drag today. Same thing yesterday.

I really just don't have much to do. All of my projects are in phases where I'm waiting for other folks to get back to me on things. I'm pretty much just sitting here.

I guess I could be trying to write something. I've thought of a couple of story ideas, so I need to sit down and figure out how I will make them work.

but I'm not. I spent most of today reading Waiter Rant.

*yawn*

I'm going to the gym after work tonight, though.

The Gun Show, Baby!

So, the more I thought about the pictures from last night, the more irritated I got about how much I've really slacked off on my goal of getting a more aesthetically pleasing physique.

Then, I kept thinking that I really have gotten bigger and stronger since I started working out in April and the pictures last night really weren't showing it. So, I decided to take new pictures this morning immediately after my workout.

Now, I know that right after I work out my muscles are full of blood and I have better definition. So, just take these pictures for what they are. Even so, they show much better progress.

All the same, I have to start doing cardio regularly and doing weights AT LEAST once more every week but preferably twice more.

So, who wants to be my workout buddy?

Supplemental Information

So, I've been working out with my trainer now for... a long time!

Time for an update, no?

Ok. Here're pictures of me after my first workout with Craig:

Here are pictures of me now:

I almost didn't post the update because 1) I don't see a big improvement and 2) it's been 30 weeks. HOLY COW. 30 weeks? Really?

Now, to put things in context: Yeah, I am paying for a personal trainer, but I have not been keeping up with my training like I should. Like, I haven't kept up with it at all.

I'm SUPPOSED to run daily or at least 4 times a week. And I'm SUPPOSED to try to work in at least 1 additional weight day.

But I haven't done that at all.

And I can tell.

I have gained 15 lbs, which is why I kind of look a little chunkier. I'm 6'2" and I now weigh 185 lbs.

But, seriously, I need to buckle down.

I started this post because someone mentioned supplements today and how you have to use them in order to really make your workout give you the results you want.

I've taken creatine before and drank the weight gainer shakes. The creatine mixes aren't that bad but the weight-gainer stuff is awful.

I think if you're going to take things like that you really should be serious about working out so that it's worth the fuss. I haven't been taking them during the last 30 weeks for that reason.

My trainer is pleased with my progress, but I think he's a little irritated that I haven't really committed to it. I'm kind of irritated when I think about it because I'm basically throwing a LOT of money away. Thousands of dollars. No kidding. The more I think about it, the more irritated I am.

I don't think I'm going to pay for more workouts with Mr. Craig unless I'm able to really commit myself to working out and getting a rockin' body. I mean, I can probably maintain this look on my own.

Great. Now I'm in a bad mood about this.

Stranger to Fiction

Back in college, I used to write a little bit. Like art writing, not nonfiction writing. Mostly idiotic poems, but I did take a playwriting class and a creative writing class as part of my curriculum. So, I did write some short stories.

So, I've been thinking for a while that I should like to take up the quill again and pen some fiction.

This is not a decision a person should make lightly.

I'd LIKE to write a novel, but I am ill-equipped for it in terms of writing skill. So, I want to start on some short stories.

I can't think of any short stories to write!

So, I'm re-reading The Art of Fiction by Ayn Rand to try to jog my creative juices. But I have to say, this is going to be hard work.

I should write a story about the fat people who are checking out the vacant apartment across the street. They seemed to take note of the skinny white dude parading around in his underwear a little bit ago and have since taken to lumbering from room to room without apparent purpose. Wait. They've all taken a seat on some unseen furniture listening to the male talk and watch him gesture laconically about what I can only guess is a border or a window frame.

One of the larger females is up and measuring a doorway. She's going about it all the wrong way.

Oh well. They're interesting characters, I guess, if I want to write about people with low aspirations, simplistic ideas, and limited views of life. Although I might complain that their appearance is uninspired, they do have better windows than I do and a MUCH bigger apartment. I guess they need it, though, since there are four or five of them thudding against the ceiling of the dance studio on the floor below.

I don't really like the idea of these fatties watching me in my underwear. I didn't mind the hot chicks who waved to me, but these are just fat, ugly people who are probably less titilated or inspired by the view than inappropriately amused.

It's official. I hate the new across-the-street neighbors. Why couldn't the hot guy move across the hall so I could get a better view? This is a family of people who make bad decisions.

Can you imagine an entire book of short stories about their lives? It would be a comedy. I might be good at writing comedy, but I would much rather write about adventures. Detective stories, spy stories, stories about really pretty, happy people falling in love with other really happy, people who might happen to belong to the wrong street gang or Veronese family minus suicide plots.

One of the large female fatties seems to be entranced. She's just leaning against the window watching the traffic on the street or watching me watch her.

I seriously want to go over and tell them to stop eating so much food and get some exercise. They're the kind of fat that is grotesque and completely unacceptable. And it's a whole family. Three females and a male, I've counted so far. Even the young female is overweight.

The cute lady upstairs from them is home now and she's cooking supper, I think.

I could write stories about all the people in the building across the street! I'm sure that's totally been done, but I'll bet those stories sucked and didn't have any plot.

Office Manager Lady

Do you watch Scrubs? You should, it's funny.

You know the mouthy, black head nurse lady? You should, she's funny.

Well, the office manager at my work is like her except Italian and with orange hair.

She makes me laugh when she's yelling at other people, but I wish she wouldn't yell at me so much.

TMI

I realize that I blog about poop way more than is polite or appropriate but because this is my blog and I write about the things that cross my mind and you are a masochistic internet lurker, you get to know more about my bowels than even my doctor knows. (That's because he and I really don't talk about them much.)

This morning I ate a bowl of raisen bran. And then, without thinking much about it, I started drinking a cup of coffee.

Now, I have suddenly realized that I've set in motion a chain of events that may threaten life as we know it.

I'm scared.

Hold me.

Not too tightly though.

Exploitation

One of my account managers stopped by my desk this morning and said that she wanted to take me with her to meet with a client.

When I asked her why, she told me that she wanted to meet one-on-one with one of the senoir-level contacts, but there was a lower-level contact that kept getting in the way. I was like, "Ah! Sure. I know her [the speedbump] so I'll just ask her to take me to meet with their tech guy and that will leave you to talk account stuff with the head honcho."

But my account manager (I should point out that she is also a good friend of mine) said, "No, that's not really what I was thinking."

She then intimated to me in so many words that she thinks the head honcho guy is gay and she wants me to come along because she thinks it will lure him away from the speedbump who keeps getting in the way of her sales pitch.

I'm not even sure how to respond to that sort of thing. I am more than happy to visit with a client and I think I can effectively communicate the value of our products and services to prospects. I also think that I am a rather charming person at times and I understand the value of being personable and at least moderately attractive when it comes to building trust in people of any gender or sexual persuasion.

On the other hand, it strikes me as somewhat unprofessional to make an appeal to sex as a primary sales strategy. I'm sure she would not say that this is a primary strategy, but she is, in practice, making it a point of leverage to get to this contact.

Of course, sex does sell and is used constantly to sell things in advertisements. But I'm not an advertisement.

I think I'm more amused by the notion than anything.

Exploiting the libido to gain confidence is an age-old practice. I've just never been a party to such and it seems awfully forward that someone would actually say out loud that their plan is to try use this.

Fantasy

When I am fed up with the state of things, usually the state of the state, I fantasize about sailing around the world.

Well, not directly around the world, but just moving onto a sailboat and sailing around to different places. Like Tierra del Fuego, Greece, Madagascar, Thailand, and places all over.

I do worry about what I would do about the sun, since I don't like being in the sun much, but I imagine I could just have a sailboat with some kind of awning or cover for me to sit under and still enjoy the breeze.

I also wonder what I would do about hurricanes, because I have zero interest in dying or almost dying.

But I would sleep on a hammock outside when it's nice out and I think that would be very nice.

I read a story in Reader's Digest when I was young about some people whose sailboat was sunk by killer whales. I am sure that almost never happens.

I just sometimes think it would be nice to get away and get out from under all the thing that interfere with enjoying freedom.

But I don't think I could live on a boat for too long. First of all, it's too confining. Second, I don't think I could not work for money. Third, I would get lonely. For as much time as I spend by myself, that might seem weird, but I do like people.

Even still, when I'm in a really bad mood, it always seems like such a nice idea to cut loose with a bunch of good books and a nice breeze to parts unknown. Swimming and fishing and seeing exotic places. Finding places that haven't been touched by tyranny or assholes.

On the Phone

Ring Ring

CSR: Hello, thank you for calling Fresh Direct. How may I help you this evening?

Flibby: Yes, my order was to be delivered between 8 and 10. It's now 10:30 and I'm wondering what's going on.

CSR: Oh! I'm very sorry for that. Let me try to call the driver. One moment please.

CSR presses MUTE on the phone and takes a sip of diet coke. She then completes another square on her Soduko puzzle.

CSR: Sir? I spoke with the driver and he is actually on the way right now. You should have your groceries in five to ten minutes.

Flibby: Great! Thanks!

CSR: No problem, sir. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience.

After waiting another 30 minutes, I just realized what happened.

It Begins Again

Again, I'm in a good mood today. But disaster is stalking me.

I was putting on my shoes and when I pulled my hand up and reached for my other sock, I noticed that my hand was bathed in blood.

Apparently, I nicked the middle finger of my left hand it was leaking blood all over the place. There's a spot on my jeans now.

And so, I had to bandage that up.

Then, as I was leaving my apartment, I slammed my right index finger in the door. It hurt a lot.

But I did remember my iPod, keys, and lunch. And the lunch is in the freezer today. So, I don't know what else can go wrong, but it's probably something like that movie Final Destination.

Good Mood. Bad Day.

6:50 am - Late for the gym
7:10 am - Discover I have "weak hip flexors" and I'm not good at situps or situp-like activities.
8:45 am - Discover that I am out of my favorite socks and almost out of clean underwear.
8:50 am - Late leaving for work
8:53 am - Discover I forgot my iPod
8:54 am - Discover that I've locked myself out of my apartment
9:15 am - Spill Orange Juice all over my shirt
12:30 pm - Discover that I forgot to put my frozen meal in the freezer and see that gravy has flowed all over my other food.

Hopefully, things will start evening out, because I don't think I can take many more of these little mishaps.

MORE Adorable

Do you know who is MORE adorable than Neil Patrick Harris?

Christopher Masterson.

I know he's a crazy Scientologist and all, but just try to look at him and not think about Xenu dropping him into a volcano.

And, ok, returning to the topic of television shows. Check out Veronica Mars. That is an excellent show.

Sex and the City

What is the attraction to this show?

I don't get it.

It's about a bunch of women who run around having lots and lots of sex, but when they aren't fellating the UPS guy or complaining about the way their boyfriends moan, they're fussing and fretting over the biological (HIV tests), emotional (themes of exploitation, abandonment, alienation in relationships), and sociological (see the previous parenthetical and expand it to non-sexual relationships) implications and effects of their actions.

It's like they want to have their cake and eat it, too.

I'm not saying that I've never made bad decisions about my romantic and sexual relationships and that it is impossible for me to relate to the characters in the show. What I'm saying is that they're boring. They're boring because they aren't subtle at all. Their conflicts are really trite and overplayed. And then I think I'm supposed to be moved by the big, important lesson that Carrie Bradshaw spells out for us at the end.

It's like Doogie Howser M.D. with a giant, purple dildo and a shoe fetish.

Great. Now I have an unpleasant image of the adorable Neil Patrick Harris in my head.

What I'm Doing

Work is off-the-hook crazy these days.

I have exactly the same amount of projects to manage that I am capable of tracking effectively. That is to say, I have about 30 projects of varying size going right now.

Today, I went into the wild, untamed west to visit a client. That means I went across the river to New Jersey.

I haven't really been working out the way I should be, but I'm not doing very badly.

So, anyway, I've been busy with this and that and there really isn't that much more to say about it.

Update: when I got to work this morning, I was curious about exactly how many projects I have going, because I was guessing when I said 30 earlier. So, I counted all of my open project tickets and it turns out I'm tracking 60 different projects right now. Many of them are rather small, so it's not like I'm trying to manage 60 large, full-cycle projects. And they're all at different levels of completion as well, so it's not like I have to launch them all at once or anything. So, it's not as bad as it might sound at first, but it is a lot of work.

I am a project managing badass!