Fun, Free and Lighthearted

Ugh. I’ve had a rough day. Long week.

My call on Goldman Sachs was terrible. Sure, I made 5% until they announced earnings yesterday afternoon. All that build up for bust. The investment blog post will come later.

We lost our softball game 9-8. This could’ve clinched the playoffs for us. I put some of the onus on myself. I threw a pitch that shouldn’t have been thrown. Should’ve just walked the guy. I went 1 for 3. It was a terrible hitting night for me. I didn’t help my cause at all. My attitude was terrible all game. Much too serious, and not enough funny. We could’ve been easy sailing in to the playoffs. And now I’ve got to worry with one regular season game left.

Then, I get home only to watch the end of the finals where some jackass throws up a 3 pointer at the buzzer and hits it to destroy my two team parlay that would’ve paid me 2.5 to 1 odds with the Spurs winning by 3 (which they only won by 1) and the score being under 176.5 combined (it ended up being 165: Spurs 83, Cavs 82). What a boring series. The NBA is in crisis. Tony Parker MVP? Frenchie? Don’t you idiots know? This is the United States of AMERICA. *steams*

So that’s 3 somewhat bad things. So that’s it. I don’t have to go through anymore crap for awhile. Knowing that, I can write about something I’ve been thinking about. And that is, having a house party here.

I’ve got a few friends, a few coworkers and other acquaintances that like to drink. In fact, I know a lot of people that like to drink. The last house party I was at I believe was probably 2 years ago. And yes, I have been to parties in houses over the past 2 years. In fact, I’ve hosted a few myself. However, those are not my definition of a house party. A house party is a packed house. A place that you can’t sit because there are all these groups of people standing and chatting. The drinks are flowing, the music is loud and a few people are way too drunk to even be awake. Maybe the cops come knock on the door? Maybe.

You don’t want to stay at the house because the couch looks dirty. So you pile in to the car with 8 other people, only 2 of which you showed up with, and somehow you all get home. Don’t judge me. I’m still alive, I don’t have a DUI or a MIP. And if I did, who are you to judge? Hah – c’mon let’s keep it fun.

You might think I’m crazy to miss these parties. Maybe I am. Maybe my house might get trashed. But for this post, let me be “fun, free and lighthearted”. Because I’ve had a rough day. Ok? Thanks.

I want to have a kegger at my house. I want to have a spodie. Is that how you spell it? I want a garbage can full of liquor and fruit and I want a keg of Mac and Jack’s getting pumped on the other corner of my patio. I want hot dogs and hamburgers. I want loud music. I want shoulder to shoulder people, everyone standing around chatting and laughing. I want drinking contests.

And that’s why I’m writing. If you’re reading this, don’t worry about it. You’re invited. I’m planning it. I don’t know if e-vites are still what the deal is? I’m not sure. They seem like they’ve peaked and now suck. I want to lay some plastic down on the hard woods, set up 12 shot glasses and challenge 11 other people to the century run. I want us all standing around that island. I want designated pourers. I want it to be competitive. I want screaming.

It’s been a good 3 years since I’ve done it. And man did I do it good. Most were not able to follow in my greatness. None in fact. Some ran outside to barf. While I continued. Shot after shot after shot. And if you’re not aware of what the century run is, it is 100 shots of beer in 100 minutes. I know. It doesn’t sound like much. But it gets to you. At 54 you start to buzz. Right about when you hit 72 is when you can’t pour anymore. And at 84 your vision starts to go. At 93 you have no idea what you’re saying and you don’t even remember any of the shots past that point. Maybe you drink two more beers on top of all the shots you did? Maybe you randomly make a fool of yourself in front of a circle of people. Yeah, you probably did.

People will be surrounding me laughing. Drinking their wine. Drinking their mixed drink. Maybe we should use the blender and make Seth’s old special margaritas? It might be that kind of night. I want a night in late July or sometime in August when everyone can make it. It’ll be a no holds barred drink-a-thon. And if you’re not sure where “no holds barred” comes from or had possibly forgotten:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_Holds_Barred

Maybe I’ll rent that movie and play it while we’re drinking. But play it on silent so I can rock out with my awesome music (I bet you thought I was going to say “cock out”? C’mon – not in front of all those people) that I don’t really care if everyone likes. Because who did the century run? That’s what I thought. I just want to be going for a repeat of my greatness. Sadly as it is, I am half serious. So don’t think of me as an arrogant bastard. I’m just trying to be light hearted.

I know lots of guys. We need more girls than guys though. Even though I’m married, the mix must require at least a 7:10 ratio of women to men for me to feel comfortable. And please, at least one female make the attempt at the run? Even if you make it to 32 you’ve got our respect. Otherwise we might all end up crying together in a huge sausage fest if no women make it out. And that’s why I’m cooking hot dogs and not sausage.

Thinking about planning this event is the only thing that has made my night better. That’s why I’m writing about it. Sure, I have other ideas about blog posts, and yes, I haven’t done a “rando” post in awhile, but I figured this “spur of the moment” writing might create something I might enjoy reading.

I just realized I have no idea what kind of beer I’ll buy for this. I should research. I’m currently going to google and typing in the search of “What is the best beer to use for the century run”. And for you lazy folk, I’ll just paste the first link that pops up here:

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2005/05/0516_050516_ancientbeer.html

Wow. A national geographic link about antibiotics. That sucks.

I guess I must have used too many words in my search.

I promise I’ll make up for only having 3 posts last month. I apologize, I was on vacation. I also promise that I’ll have a rando thoughts post up this month. My head is all sorts of jumbled right now, which will make for an excellent one of those. I don’t see it un-jumbling until February 2008. Weird that I can just say that.

For now, I feel marginally better by imagining my ridiculous party where NO ONE drives home for hours while they sober up and feel terrible. Eyes dropping, backs leaned up against the wall. Let’s all be college kids again. We deserve it. We’ve been out for too long. Don’t drink responsibly. Get shit faced.

Maybe there’s people making out in the living room? Maybe. Lucky kids. I hope I’ve got my camera on me.

What it Means to be a Man

Now that I’m 25, I’m starting to realize that my thought process on things isn’t changing much anymore. When I was younger (12-18) I let every little opinion or article or book I read affect my mood or thoughts on things.

Since about 16, I’ve slowly built my foundation with things I’ve felt were important. Things that would have other people be proud of the person – man I am – or have become.

I’m not saying it’s stopping here. I’m just saying that at this point I’ve got a list of things that I think every man should strive for. Some of them are silly and really just showcase manhood to other men, and some of them are more serious. I understand this is almost a preaching post – but don’t let it be. These are things that I think about or do in my everyday life to adhere to my own standards. I received one of the best complements the other night from my wife and it was simple: “You are a good man.”

I shoot for nothing less.

In no particular order – what it means to be a Man by me:

-For the rest of my life I plan on driving a manual. A stick shift. I don’t care if US automakers have cut production of manual cars down to 10% and shrinking. Every car I own will be a manual. And if not manual then I’ll at least have some form of electronic shifting. Driving a stick is about a few things: Control of your vehicle. Don’t let a computer do the work for you. Do the work yourself. This is about putting forth effort when it’s not really needed but it’s about respect. (More on effort and respect later).

Knowing how to drive a stick can save lives. My parents were the first to push me to drive a stick after I informed them of my desire to own one. My mom always said that in case of emergency it’s always best to know how to drive every type of car. Believe it or not, I’ve already been in a handful of situations where a friend was not able to drive (hurt leg, too drunk, too sleepy) and they drove a stick. If it wasn’t for me knowing how to drive a stick, we’d just be stuck there. Waiting for the ambulance to come. Waiting for them to sober up so they could drive. Waiting as they napped. I could go on, but I believe I already made an entire post as to why I believe automatics are for “disabled drivers”.

-Length of grass, hair, name (among other things). These three things are a direct extension of you (shutup, this is my blog). For those that own property: Take pride in your castle. The grass shows how much you care about the appearance of your home. The appearance of your life basically. The greener, the fuller, the better. Everyone knows this. Homes that have grass that has grown to become a jungle – or those that have grass with giant gaping holes in it – or have been completely browned out are just too lazy. They don’t have the time, the energy, or even possibly the know how. Lawn care is a science, and one that I will admit to not having mastered yet. Still, my lawn is above average in comparison to my neighbors. And for now, that’s good enough.

Your hair. Thanks a lot Adam Morrison/Michael Bolton/Fabio/skater guys/rocker dudes. You have all inspired some of us to grow our hair past out ears. Mullet? Cool, that’s your thing. But just mop top? No. Shave your head. What does it meant to me when I see a guy or a kid with long hair? A few things: They are lazy. They obviously don’t sweat because their hair would annoy them so much they’d just cut if off. If they do sweat all that sweat STAYS in their hair and they stink like a laundry hamper full of my socks. They’re trying to make a statement. Please – seriously the anti-establishment anarchy shit was so past decades. Find something new to bitch about – and before you do, cut your hair. They’re trying to hide something. Yes! Probably all the acne from all of your greasy hair! Maybe your giant forehead or dumbo ears? (Ok – I have these – but even still don’t have long hair). Just once in your life – buzz it all off. The freedom you feel, especially on those hot summer days I’m sure you’ll be amazed by. (Please don’t take this advice if you burn easily). Let the women have the long hair. You don’t want other men to be attracted to you…or maybe you do?

Names. I don’t care what your name is. Find some way to make it one syllable. Nobody should have to waste any more breath in getting your attention. If you require more than one syllable at the most just make it initials. There’s just something that makes me cringe when I hear names like “Bartholomew” or even “Christopher”. I know – those can both be shortened. So allow them to be. Don’t force people to call you something they don’t want to. For efficiencies sake.

-Earn enough money to pay for your life. This is self-explanatory. Nut up and get a job. I don’t care what people do as long as they make enough money to not have to mooch off friends, family or the government. See a recurring theme yet? Real men are not lazy (for very long periods of time). Therefore real men are not broke. Making more than you need? Be generous. Give back to those that gave to you. Donate money. Pay for food and drinks. Accept only thanks in return.

-Like sports. Or a sport. Real men can play at least one sport. And if you can’t play, at least try. And if you don’t want to try at least have the ability to talk about one sport. In my opinion, sports are the 2nd “go-to” conversation after the weather when dealing with another man you’ve never met before. Sometimes maybe even the first? Be prepared. Seriously it only takes an hour a week to keep up on one team. Read the local newspaper sports section. Watch an hour of ESPN. And for your health – both physical and mental – get out and play. Anything. I don’t even care if it’s badminton (which I’ve been craving to play recently). As long as you are moving, your heart rate is up, and you’re having fun – that’s what counts. So hopefully when a man you’ve never met before shakes your hand, introduces himself and you complain about the shitty weather – when he fires back with the question of, “Whoo! Did you see Lebron last night? Amazing!” You can at least reply with, “Oh yeah! Wow. I had a game like that last weekend in badminton – completely on fire, nothing could get past me”. See? Even if shuttlecock guy had no idea about Lebron or what this Lebron character did (scoring 29 of the last 30 points in a double OT superhuman finish which escalated the cavs to the NBA finals 2007) he could at least switch the topic to something sports related (important) and continue the conversation on a topic he was educated on (also very important). As a man, sports are much more important to me than I sometimes realize. And I could go of about tradition, father – son bonding, etc. But that’s all emo shit and meant for another post.

-Like beer. This just goes with sports. You can’t do shots all the time. You’ll look like the idiot at the house party of your friends when you decline the only type of drink they have at their house – instead bringing your fifth of Limon for you to shoot by yourself. Shots are meant for the club. The bar. Whisky? Ok – maybe if you’re twice my age. But I’m not. Don’t be the odd man out when everyone orders a draft and you get a vodka tonic. Toasting with other guys that are drinking beers only to sip from your straw just looks idiotic. Man up. People that say beer tastes like piss have either had a terrible prank pulled on them or have only had a minimal amount of experience with beer. Through my first month with beer I hated it. Every sip I took was bitter and I almost had to force it down. I can’t believe I was such a wimp at 18 when I had my first cup from a keg – Mac and Jacks. And now that I look back at that night – I can’t believe myself. Mac and Jacks is now one of my favorite beers (and I’m hungry right now so I actually wouldn’t mind one).

-Quit watching your weight. This has to go along with beer. A beer, or 10 beers every now and then is not that bad. Eating beef is not that bad. Men do not get fat. Except for those really obese guys. Men go from being “big” to being “obese”. There is no in between. Remember, you are a man. For you, it is ok to be overweight. Have a belly. Sure as a woman you’d be frowned upon and be a total mess anytime you went to the mall shopping for clothes – but as a man we’ve got sizes to fit you. XXL. And all that loose clothing hides any rolls you might have too. So be a man – don’t be ashamed that you’re 40 pounds overweight. Opt for the prime rib instead of the salad. Have a beer or two to wash it down. And then go play your sport of choice (curling for my Canadian pals) to burn it all off.

-Be strong. Physically and mentally. For those that are close to you – be their rock. Be their foundation. If there is one defining feature about real men that I’ve seen it’s that they are so strong in these aspects. As far as the physical side is concerned – men should be able to lift someone three-quarters their own weight (assuming lifting a significant other) a minimum of 30 yards, or be able to hold them while treading water (all for safety purposes). The mental strength is obviously more important then. When instability surrounds mentally strong men they raise their heads and accept the challenges that life presents them. People look to them for strength in their times of need. And even though it may be hard to present that side at the toughest times in life – this is when it is needed most. As I mentioned previously – be the rock that everyone can rely upon. Be the light that leads everyone through that dark tunnel and when you get through to the other side you’ll have everyone’s love, respect and admiration.

-Some forms of chivalry are not dead. I agree that in modern relationships, there has to be some sort of compromise. Dinner, movie, and drinks are just too expensive for a man to be constantly paying for – especially if the couple has been together for a longer period of time. One of chivalry’s definitions is, “Courtesy towards women”. People only say that it has died because men no longer adhere to such strict standards as they had even 5 decades ago. Figure out how you think a woman should be treated and set yourself at a step above that. Seriously though? I only open doors for all women, and try my best not to be gross when I’m around them.

-Do not ever hit a woman – unless given the proper circumstances. And by proper circumstances I will allow these few exceptions: Love taps. Random “slug bug” games (what happened to these? And corners? These have to make comebacks). A boxing match for entertainment. Your life is being threatened by a weapon. Or possibly limbs or other extremities? The woman you are hitting is your sister. Please provide your own examples of hilarity here as the rule does not apply universally (obv).

On a more serious note - if any of you ever catch another man truly hitting a woman - this man needs a proper beat down. Apply it thoroughly and make sure he remembers what it feels like to really get hit.

I have more definitions of what is required of men – however this post is getting a bit long winded and its late now. Remember this list is always evolving, and hopefully in 5 years I’ll be able to tell you what it means to be a man at 30. So I’ll finish what I consider an unfinished list with this final standard:

-Love and respect your family and friends. They did more to shape who you are as a man than you may not ever realize. And for that you owe them more than just love and respect. You owe them everything.

Happiness Defined

Reading over my past few posts – I’ve noticed I’ve been in a bit of a rut, they’ve been pretty boring, and depressing at times.

I wanted to write this earlier, but I was on vacation. A much needed vacation. I hadn’t taken one day off (other than normal company holidays) since the honeymoon.

The trip was to DC and NYC. Leaving on a midnight flight from Seatac to JFK, and then connecting.

I was going to see my best friends. My family. My home. Home is where we are, and when we are together everything is the way it should be.

After spending a few amazing days seeing the sights and partying in DC, we left on the 5 hour bus ride for NYC.

The bus ride was great. Most comfortable I felt traveling anywhere in a long time. The bus wasn’t sold out which gave me the ability to place my luggage on the seat next to me. Had my head phones on, Cramer’s “Real Money” book, and was falling in and out of consciousness while I caught up on some much needed rest. The 5 hours flew by. Brand new green leaves were flying by too. Traffic was nonexistent. The curves were gentle. The sun was out, but not shining in my eyes at all.

Coming out of sleep, I realized how close we were to the city. Suddenly I could see the Statue of Liberty. And then it hit.

Jamie Cullum. Song after song. “All at sea”, “High and Dry” and “Frontin’”. You know those points where the perfect song comes on and just fits your mood? I don’t really care if the lyrics fit much – but the feeling was there. We drove by and in to the city.

“All at Sea” fits perfectly because of all the water I could see surrounding the Statue of liberty. All the water that we drove by when getting to the port authority. Everyone rollerblading, biking and running, the sun shimmering off their skin like it did off the surface of the water.

“High and Dry” fits so well because of one line: “It’s the best day you have - ever had”. And if you’ve never heard this song, please get it as soon as possible. It’s almost as if nothing can go wrong in life when you’re listening to this song. We passed a dog park and a soccer game out of nowhere. More people enjoying life and enjoying the sun.

“Frontin’” sounds like the city to me. So busy. So much life. Energy. That was what you feel when you visit NYC. Is this abundance of energy everywhere you went. Maybe it was the weather. Maybe it was because I was surrounded by people. Maybe it was because I was among my best friends.

Maybe it was because for a moment in time, I was able to let this feeling wash over me – just let go of anything that was weighing me down – and define it as “happiness”.

That was one hell of a vacation.

Sunday Night Blues – melancholy

You know, you build and build and build at something for so long – and then when you get there, sometimes it’s kind of just anticlimactic. For the past few months, I’ve been working hard to get in shape, and to pass the A+ test.

Well, I’ve done both, but gone halfway. Ideally I wanted to lose 10 pounds. I lost 5. I wanted to pass the A+ test which is made up of the hardware exam and the operating system exam. I passed hardware.

I wanted to prove to myself that I could be dedicated for long enough that I could it harder and better (that’s what she said) than those before me. My coworker took a year to study and barely passed. I kind of laughed at him because I figured I was more dedicated than him and could focus and study harder than he did and then pass. I was literally 1 or 2 questions away from passing. 30 points on a 900 point test. And that’s what stings. He took a year – I took 2 months and 12 days.

And the silly thing is? I’ve got all the time in the world to do this. Why I pushed myself so hard over the past few months to accomplish these goals, I’m not sure. The long term is the very long term. And the test (these specific tests) will be waiting for me whenever I want to take them. There was no need to rush. It was that stupid competitive side coming out again. Competing with no one but myself – my will power.

And look at me now. Today was my first day “off”. I figure I’ll let myself rest a bit because it started to catch up to me. I was “burning the candle at both ends”. And by that last week – this past week – I couldn’t handle it. I literally gave up on 1) Working out and 2) Studying. I think maybe I just made that “final push” 1 week too early? Or maybe all that pushing ended up knocking me over steps from the finish line?

Regardless – with hours of time available to me today and nothing to do – I felt uncomfortable. After a few “hard core” months of working at a few things – I didn’t know what to do with myself. Suddenly the urge to study or work out – or that cloud that has hung over my head the past few months – wasn’t there anymore. And the weird thing was – I felt awkward as myself, which is just hard to explain.

I kept saying, “Oh man, I can’t wait until I’m done with this test. I’m just going to sit back, relax, don’t worry about a thing”. Maybe it’s too early now to feel that way? Maybe it’s like that first week of summer all over again – you know that week or couple of weeks you take right at the beginning of summer to get used to the notion that all the time in the world is yours – you don’t have to go back to school on Monday. That first weekend – you realize that on Monday you don’t have to go back. You don’t have any homework or projects that are going to be graded. And for me, it always took a couple Mondays – and finally around July 4^th is when I used to get in to the “summer groove”.

Finally, I realized that I could just “hang” and watch the days fly by doing whatever I wanted to until Labor Day rolled around again and it was time to head back to school. I wanted so badly to relax today. The best I got was a 20 minute nap. I sat down at my computer and just stared blankly at the web. I did it twice today. Only two days ago, I would’ve done things with a purpose. Check email for 5 minutes. Done with email? On to studying.

But today was – check email for 10 minutes. Stare blankly at the screen. Go shopping online – with no intention to buy. Look out the window at the pond. Gloomy day out. Wish it would rain. Glad I mowed the lawn yesterday. 45 minutes until we have to go to dinner. I wish I had gone to the gym. But I’m too lazy to shower again. And then by the time I’m out of the shower we’re going to be leaving again anyway. *sigh*

Maybe it was too much for me to handle recently? The load was too great? Now I’m burnt? I was getting shit done though. That’s what was great about it. It’s like there’s a point where I’ve got enough things on my plate that I can barely control what’s going on – at that point is where I apply the most effort. Every hour of every day is spent thinking about what needs to be accomplished. Plans for free time are made well in advance. Because if there’s only one smaller goal I’m trying to accomplish – it’ll forever get put on the back burner. I’ll get around to it when I feel like it. No sense in even wasting time thinking about it now…

The cursor is just blinking at me. I can’t even think of anything else to write.

I’ll pass the operating system portion of the test in a month. I just need to focus on that section – and it’ll be over and done with in no time. But it’s just crazy – all this work – all of what will be 3+ months so I can add something to my resume? What is 4 years of college? 2 lines on my resume? No – it was more than that – mainly it was the memories. But for this test? It was an hour reading every night before bed. It was those hours that I devoted to studying those weekends.

That was all kinds of hell – but now that I’m without it – now that I should be resting and enjoying life and thinking everything is ok – I’m not. In some sick, twisted way – I miss the pressure. I wonder if there is terminology for this state of mind. I’d almost go as far to say that it is cathartic – I put myself through these things to push myself – to test how far or how strong my will is.

This is getting kind of out of hand? I ask that question because I’m not sure. I’m not even sure why it’s the Sunday Night Blues as the title. Because I think I’ll change it to melancholy. That’s what I’m looking for.

I almost expected to be sitting here like this, a month ago – feeling this way. A self-fulfilling prophecy.

Being OK with Being OK

On the way to dinner last night, listening to talk radio, we heard the results of a happiness study done over 30 years. I’m just going to go and post the excerpt here (even though it’s from a Canadian website and strangely enough I trust it less than an American website – Sorry Canada).

“For instance, in the developed world, once all of life's most basic needs are satisfied, is there any sense in chasing ever greater prosperity? The modern-day stoics say no, and they marshall their own evidence. In particular, skeptics point to a groundbreaking 30-year-old study by economist Richard Easterlin, showing that between the 1950s and 1970s, Japan's national income increased by 10 times, and yet average happiness (measured through extensive polling) didn't budge. The story is the same in the United States where, in 1993, a professor of psychology named David G. Myers reported that the percentage of people who say they are "very happy" remained unchanged at about 30 per cent between 1960 and 1990, even as inflation-adjusted, after-tax incomes more than doubled.”

http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com/index.cfm?PgNm=TCE&Params=M1ARTM0012910

Really, read the whole thing. That’s just a snippet.

Anyway, it got me to thinking about my own personal goals for wealth and riches beyond my wildest dreams. If I had it, would I be any happier? I’m just going to leave the answer open ended here because I can’t answer it for you yet. Well, actually, I’m now making about three times as much as I did even 3 years ago, and I can tell you, my mood really hasn’t changed. I would report the same level of happiness as I did back then. In fact, I might even say I was more happy back then (since the past is a happier place sometimes) but it’s mainly because I was only working part time while going to school.

But this was really interesting to me though. To have more, to have it all, is it really the answer for me? Obviously having more doesn’t change how we all feel. I’ve been thinking a lot since I heard about this study on the radio last night…and I guess it was just a “mini-epiphany”: I can’t be happy all the time. I shouldn’t strive to be happy all the time. Everything we do, everything we’ve changed over the past 30 years, what we can point to as our definition of “happy” when we look around us – maybe it’s all a sham?

I’ve always thought that a person cannot be happy 100% of the time. Even over 70% of the time is going a little bit overboard in my opinion. For awhile, my thought on how I felt was that for every pain point, for every low in my life, it made the highs that much sweeter. For all the struggle and stress I push through, the end result gets that much better for every painstaking minute I put in to a goal that I accomplish. And to avoid that pain – to avoid all the hard work and persistence would be to undercut that glorious feeling at the end.

CROX, one of the symbols I was currently invested in popped for 36% over a month. It’s the fastest I’ve ever had an investment work out for me, but I’ve only been seriously investing for over a year. Sure, it wasn’t worth millions of dollars, it wasn’t even worth thousands. But the satisfaction of doing the research and making the right pick at the right time wouldn’t be the same if I had started with a ridiculous amount of wealth. What I’m getting at is the struggle. To start small and build. Would I be happy if I was given millions of dollars to play with? Absolutely. I’d be insane not to. But I’d get bored (maybe). It wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be my hard earned money that I received for being there every day, 6:30 am to 3 pm, Monday through Friday.

I’m starting to ramble now. The main point for me is in the title. I need to learn how to just be OK with feeling “fine”. Or even a little bit down or up. I shouldn’t expect every day to be the best day ever. They couldn’t be. Because how could I decipher between which day actually was the best day ever? It all sounds a bit tiring. I want to stop myself from trying to force that “happiness” feeling. It’ll come like it always has, albeit I’m sure at different times and from different activities.

So having everything I need, I’ll be OK. And seriously, it will be OK. For me this is a kind of “acceptance” to feeling anyway about anything. From extreme sadness to jumping joy, they’re all normal, and needed.

25 And Looking Back

I know, I know. You’re supposed to look forward. But, I like to look back often. In my opinion of myself – oh geez, can you believe I have an opinion of myself? Terrible – I’ve found that a lot of the thoughts that I previously had about myself – things around me – have definitely grown.

Noticed I didn’t use the word “matured”. To this day I get called “immature”, even by those that barely know me.

And I can’t pinpoint certain dates in my life where my thoughts changed per say, however I can definitely tell you the difference between what I used to think and how I used to act and how I now act. I’m now 25. It’s an odd feeling. It’s an odd number at the least. One quarter of a century – and how old do kids 5 years younger than me think I am? Freaking old. Heck, I think people who are 26 are really old, when in fact, I’ve got less than 12 months before I’m there. I’m sure this mentality will change with time too.

I’d like to make the main point I was getting at first – because I think it’s a complex one, and it’s going to be really challenging for me to describe on paper. Right now it’s this amorphous substance in my brain that pops up with little “you should include this, and talk about that too!” snippets – but it’s not ever a full-on post. Which is of course why I have to throw it all on here, to see if it hopefully makes sense at the end.

When I was 14, 16, 18 I thought of my world as me. What am I doing today? How do I feel today? What do I want to do? If it didn’t fit in to my agenda, or my thought process, it didn’t fit. I fought with it, I ignored it, I didn’t recognize it. I had one train of thought and if anyone else thought differently they were wrong.

This played itself out in my actions. Christmas was about the presents I received. How much money I got on my birthday (seriously, I’m going to stop the italics now I think everyone gets the point). How well I did in comparison to previous years as far as the amount of booty *cough* that I had accrued. If someone wasn’t useful to me, I never found any further need for them. For all I took, I rarely gave back. If I was giving back, it was because my parents forced me to, and not because I ever wanted to.

I drove 124 miles per hour down 405 with 3 people in my car with me the summer after I first got the car. It was me showing off my new car to the people in the car, one which was screaming bloody murder if I didn’t slow down. A few cared. A few thought the car was cool regardless of how reckless I drove it. I didn’t think twice about their lives, or mine for that matter, or the others on the road. It was me, showboating, trying to be as cool as I could, for myself. This event for some reason, stands out in my head when I begin to talk about the difference between me 7 years ago, and me now.

I now drive 70 in the middle lane on the freeway. Rarely does my speed top 85, and I only go that speed when I’m passing someone or everyone else is going that fast. I’m concerned with how those riding in my car feel. I’m concerned with other drivers out there. I have to shake my head and think of how idiotic I was every time I see a lowered civic with a coffee can exhaust fly by me at 100 miles per hour. Lucky for me, I got to this point where I am now – many teens in my situation have not made it - I’ve grown a bit now, and I can see the difference.

Today I think about my affect on the entire world. I’m even getting to a point where I try to reduce my entire impact on the world’s environment – maybe this will be saved for a later post. 7 years ago, I thought about my affect on the people around me – literally within the distance to touch them. I never cared what kind of money I was wasting, energies or resources, literally at one point sitting in a college class at 18 I raised my hand and said, “You get this one life. What you do in it is all you get, so you might as well live it up (party and waste as many resources) as you possibly can”. Obviously today I am not living that lifestyle (although it does sound fun sometimes).

I used to be selfish for myself. Now I am selfish for my loved ones. That’s a lot better in my opinion than how I used to be. Now I want what is best for my family. Before I used to always say, “Take care of #1 first”. And that was how I lived. I got my way, and at the drop of a hat could forget everyone else. Sometimes this side of me will come snarling out all over again, but the “Take care of your family first” side is creeping in and starting to dominate my old thoughts.

I’m trying my best to take care of my parents. I’m concerned for them, growing in to an older age. I’ve always lived to make them proud, and it’s like we’ve reached this point where they can look at me and say, “See, we didn’t do too bad of a job with him”. I live now to make sure that my loved ones know that I love them very much. I try to live everyday as a respectful citizens in the eyes of everyone else. I keep in much better contact with my parents and start to see the older generation as more of my peers instead of the “people who were trying to keep me down”. The other day I thought to myself that I have more in common with a guy who is on the verge of retirement at 60 years old than I do with other 25 year olds. My fear is that maybe I’m growing too fast now?

They are fascinating to me though. They’ve seen so much – even people who are 15 years older than I am still have a wealth of knowledge about the past. I think about my grandparent’s generation – those who have seen 60 years more of life before me – what a difference their lifetimes have made.

The Christmas presents and birthday presents have almost dropped to nothing now. But this isn’t a complaint. It’s almost as if I was ready to move past that stage – like now it’s my time to give back to the community that raised me. Instead of being the receiver, I plan on delighting in years of gifting. I think in order to leave this world a better place I need to extend some sort of lasting legacy – even if it be with a few people. And the more generous I am with my efforts, energy, time and money I think the larger that wake becomes – the more people I affect in positive ways.

I think I was right when I started this post – it was way too jumbled and confusing for me to make any sort of sense of it. I think I’ll try again when I’m 30.

Crunch Time/Free Write/I’ve survived/Not as bad as you fear

These are the kind of nights that I hate. The nights where I crave action – anything. I gamble away a dollar on what piddly amount is left on my online poker account after I cleaned house once Neteller was done. Piddly is not a word. Gawd.

I want to be out drinking. But I don’t want to spend. I want to be listening to good music with an MGD in hand, and not be caring the crowd that I’m in. I don’t want to worry about a stupid washer and dryer anymore and how “the sooner it gets fixed the better”. Well shit. How about we just come down there right now and fix it? Would it make you happy when I’m at your beck and call at all hours of the night?

I want to be out gambling. I want to be playing basketball in a gym where the guys show up at 9:30 pm and don’t leave until midnight. I want to be getting shot in the hamstring at an indoor paintball place. I want to be sitting on the hard wood chair on the waterfront at Ivar’s Fish House in Mukilteo and drinking a Fat Tire waiting for my $3.95 burger to arrive. I want to go hit a few softballs at the batting cages under the lights, and I want it to be in the low 70s like it is during those summer nights. I won’t be doing any of it tonight.

This is a free form write. I had some ideas on what I wanted to mention, because I didn’t want this to be my “rando” post for April. And I hate how I’ve made it a point the past few months to include a “rando” post every month. And yes. That’s rando, without the “m”. Because a rando actually stands for something a little bit different than the word “random”. And those that know, know. And those that don’t, I’m sorry. I hate it that I’ve made it a point to make 1 rando post every month, because that is not rando at all. Maybe out of spite for myself I will not include one this month. Sad. I included the topics in the title of this post just so I can remember what I was going to write about while I’m actually writing.

Anyway, back to this night. Literally I am writing tonight because I need to do something. I feel like for some reason it’s a crime to go to bed on a weekend night before midnight. Or at the least before 11 pm. Literally, I work my ass off – well I guess not really, but going to work 5 days a week, 8 hours a day, same schedule, all that nonsense really starts to drag on you sometimes. I call them “slumps”. Work slumps. Where you look up at the clock and realize your life is getting paid away.

So you kill for the weekend. But for what? Sit around, watch TV, play the XBOX, try to organize a few things, work out, clean house, then back to work again on Monday. Meh.

Crunch time. Michelle and I have a bet on who can lose a bigger percentage of weight by May 15^th. Time to start really hauling ass on this. I was working out 6 days a week before getting a shin splint in my left leg and a knee issue. That was 3 weeks ago. I cut the workouts to 4 days a week, and I don’t really notice a difference. I’ll be upping it back to 6 days a week and be spending double the amount of time I normally spend in the gym. To win. I want to be skinnier anyway. I should be. The stupid “healthy wealthy wise” thing through my work told me I was 20 pounds overweight. How dare they! If I lose 10 I’ll be in “top form”. Current body fat percentage, roughly 16%. I’d like to be in the 8-10 range. In a month. Hah. I laugh. I will work my ass off and probably lose 4 pounds realistically. Ideally I will get to the 6-8 pound mark over the next 4 weeks. Then I’ll be impressed with myself. Go figure.

Along with my drive to win the bet, I also have 28 days left to study for my A+ exam. The weight loss bet ends on the 15^th of May. The A+ exam is on the 12^th of May. I am worried that I will fail at either one. It’s going to take a lot of work to accomplish both. I plan on dedicating at least 2 hours to each everyday, starting Monday. I am more worried about the A+ exam. Work is paying for it, and I get one retry if I fail, but why even put myself through that hell? 180 questions over 4 hours on computer hardware and operating systems? No thanks.

Anyway, good luck to myself.

Since about 19, my friends have been saying I will die before I turn 25. I sort of believed them. At the time, I lived my life as an “unbreakable”. Nothing could phase me, and I could never get in trouble for anything I did. 2 days and a couple minutes from now, it’ll be my 25^th birthday. I made it. I can’t really believe that I made it here. It’s kind of weird to think of myself as that old. But I’m doing “old” things.

When I tell people that I thought I was going to die before I was 25, they get really concerned. And I think their concern stems from the fact that I say it so flatly – frankly - like it’s no big deal. And when I recognize their confusion/disturbed look on their face, I kind of have to laugh it off as if it was a joke to me. But it really wasn’t. I feel like I’ve seen so much in my life, and that I’ve been so blessed to experience so many different things, that if it indeed was my time to go, I don’t know if I would fight it. Realize this attitude is much different from people who would say they would do everything to fight it – if they knew it was coming.

Well, I don’t know that it’s coming. I can’t guarantee what’s going to happen tomorrow. But if I survive to 26, I think I’ll be outliving a lot of you. I’ll be that old crotchety man with the cane and a bad attitude. I remember reading I believe in the Seattle times that grumpy old people lived longer and were brighter than those who didn’t act that way. And I think it’s just because they still hold their suspicions on things – which drive them to continually question things and educate themselves. Let’s just hope I don’t turn out like that one guy that shot and killed the kid after he said, “Get off my lawn or I’ll shoot ya!”

So yes. 2 more days. Quarter life crisis. What to do for my quarter life crisis? What to change? What to gain? What to learn? How to grow? Looking back on 24, it was a VERY eventful year. I’m glad I have this blog to read back on…hopefully the servers these are stored on never crash and I lose 2 years of writing. Really, they should offer a print service if I wanted to have all of these printed and bound and mailed to me. What would that cost? Like $75 probably? I’d pay it. Now there’s a hell of an idea blogger…

For some reason, I just thought of a few things I wanted to do with 25. I wanted to pray. I never pray. I’m not that spiritual of a person, I’m not sure if I believe in something yet. In my opinion, it really helps me get through life, when I know I am really the only one who will be there for me. Sure, there is always my family, but when I am alone, if I ever will be alone, it’ll be me to fend for myself and no one else.

I want to pray for positive things. I’m not sure if I know how to do it. Because in my mind I hear it starting as, “Dear God…” and I’m not sure if I like that or not. I’m glad I can just write this out and confuse myself further.

Another thing I wanted to do with 25 is to give sincere compliments. I am terrible with letting my “good job/well done” side show. My dad was a “tough love” character, and I think my mom was a bit of one too. I always remember coming home with scraped up knees and huge bumps on my forehead from rocks that had been thrown at me…crying. And just looking to my parents and them telling me to stop crying. So I’ve always felt like, if you screw your life up, that’s your fault. I’m not going to help you. In fact, I think I’ll talk down to you in a condescending tone hoping that you either spiral further out of control or pick yourself up, using part of the anger from me as your motivation.

I’ve found that this doesn’t work very well with about 95% of people I deal with.

I want to tell people that I know something kind that I think about them. And mean it. And not feel cheesy and weird about it. Someone I work with is always so positive about life. But not in the way that they’re so positive that you begin to hate them for it. They also have their bad days on occasion too. But most days they’ve got a compliment for someone. On the great job they’ve done, or how they like their new haircut or tie or something. And I can see that it makes people feel great about themselves. Because the compliments are genuine.

I was told by this person that this skill comes with parenthood. The ability to genuinely positively reinforce another person will come with parenthood. They tell me that you begin to see your children – or at least the way they are – in other people, and suddenly you have an entirely new respect for the human beings around you. I’m not sure what will happen with me, but I do know for sure that a change will be made as soon as I enter that stage of my life.

So there you have it, my mini birthday resolutions. They seem simple enough, but for me I think they’ll be a pretty major undertaking to change those things about myself.

To end this post, I’d like to make a PSA – a public service announcement to everyone reading.

Do not be afraid of, or angry at those around you in your community. I think here in the Northwest, we have a very isolated culture. Everyone has their bubble and you stay in your bubble and I’ll stay in mine. Get too close and we feel uncomfortable. I notice this fear sometimes…more so in the suburbs than in the city. I can see the look that people give me at times. The look that I might harm them, or steal their car or something…they front with their stone cold faces but looking in to their eyes I can see fear. I don’t consider myself a menacing character. Sure, I’m not smiling right now, but I also don’t have the look of anger on my face.

How many times have you been waiting for something, in line at the Vet’s office or in the waiting room at the doctor’s office and you’ve actually opened your mouth and started talking to a complete stranger? How many of those times were you completely taken aback by how angry that person was with you for starting a conversation? For me, no times – I realize this is bad grammar but I like it. Not once has someone snapped at me for talking to them. Usually it starts with a chuckle.

“Hey, we’re in the same situation, waiting.” “Caramel Apple Cider? What you don’t drink caffeine?” “Wasn’t that traffic/rain ridiculous getting here? Took me 50 minutes to go 10 miles! And now I’m soaked!” “That’s a cute puppy, how old are they?” “Man, they really gotta hire some more people to work at this place…”

Sometimes it ends with a hand shake or a good luck and nice to meet you. Scratch that. Most of the time it ends like that. And every time it’s great. So the next time you’re standing in that line at the bank teller, don’t look like you’ve got some place better to go. Don’t try to act like you wouldn’t mind passing the time chatting with another person. A good majority (literally I would guess 95% of us) are normal, happy (or at the least emotionally stable) people. We speak your language. We wouldn’t mind talking to you at all.

You don’t build “community” by stringing together a bunch of detached bubbles. Say hello once in awhile. I promise I won’t bite.

Robot Routines

Monday through Friday I have decided I am a robot.

I am a robot with a routine. Most robots are built to have routines right? I want that one that just vacuums your house all day. I think the dog would love playing with it. And as long as I don’t get too bored with my robot routine, then I am content with my life. Ever since mid-September since they moved me from the Redmond campus and sold it to MSFT, I’ve created a routine for myself that does a few things for me: 1) It helps me keep track of time. 2) It allows me to easily continue on through each day and not struggle with the fact that it’s only Tuesday and not Friday night. 3) I can list many more things here but seem insignificant in comparison to 1) and 2) so I’ll stop.

This may seem kind of sick to those out there who believe they are truly “spontaneous”. But I don’t care. If you’ve got a job you’ve more than likely got your own little routines. Even constant spontaneity is a routine in itself…not that I think that anyone could really accomplish that. I guess the sad thing is - is that I’ve taken time to sit here and type out things I’ve noticed that I do, every day, Monday through Friday. I don’t know if I’ve analyzed them per say, but I suppose it started to happen the moment I started working at 15 years old.

It started innocently, with the chimichanga and the Capri sun. Every day I worked I brought 500 calories of frozen Costco goodness, the chicken and cheese chimichanga. So every day during that 15 minute break (I only got 1 15 minute break because I only worked part time in 5 hours shifts) I would go down stairs to the kitchen, grab my chimichanga (that’s what she said) from out of the back of the fridge (people would steal it if I kept it near the front) unwrap it, throw it on a paper plate and heat for 1 minute and 30 seconds. I’d sit at a table near the walls of the cafeteria and grab a newspaper to avoid people talking to me while I eat. (I have this thing with people watching me eat. It’s ok if you’re eating too. But if you’re just talking to me and watching me eat and not eating yourself…well eating food, not yourself that is, then I feel awkward…mainly because I chew with my mouth open and like to talk with food in my mouth).

That was how I enjoyed every 15 minute break I had. So I guess, since then, I’ve related “routine” to “enjoyment” and haven’t looked back since. And the only reason I’m making this blog post? Is because those routines have blossomed (for lack of a better word) in to many more routines…maybe it’s OCD? Possibly – probably. At least I can look at myself and realize it. And at least I don’t throw fits when the routine is thrown off.

Every morning, Monday through Friday, I wake up at 5:40 am. On my old phone, I used to be able to switch the time at which I would wake up. So as a gift to myself for making it through another day of the week, I’d change my alarm to progressively later until I got to about 5:52 am. Unfortunately, my new phone does not allow that easy of a change (there are a lot of things about my phone that aren’t as easy as my old phone, but it’s got a camera – that I never use) to the alarm, so I now stick to 5:40 am every morning.

When my alarm goes off, I reach for it and turn off the alarm. I usually get to it by it’s 3rd “beep/vibrate”. I grab it and hold it close to my skin. The cold of the phone is usually enough to wake me up. If not, I hold it in my right hand and dangle the phone over the side of the bed. Typically if I start to fall asleep again my hand goes limp and I drop the phone, thus causing a surprise sensation to my body (another failsafe to wake me up). When I do finally decide to get up, I flex my legs and stretch my arms over my head and head towards the bathroom to create urine. Typically I fart – the most satisfying fart of the day – sad that it’s done that quickly.

I head towards my office, which is where my clothes are (the master closet is taken by Michelle along with the other two bedroom’s closets) with my right eye shut. Sometimes it’s easier to be “half asleep” and only allow light in to one eye. It eases my way in to the day. With eyes half shut, I glance at an unspectacular array of business casual, basketball shorts, sweat pants and jeans. Knowing my routine people would think that I was anal about what I wore each day. Not true. I only have two real “habits” of what I wear. And those include: Wearing something green on Tuesday. I don’t know what it is about Tuesday. Again, I haven’t analyzed this…yet. But I hate Tuesdays. In my opinion, Tuesdays are the worst day of the work week. Many people would say Monday, but on Mondays I usually feel a lot more refreshed from what’s hopefully a long, relaxing weekend. Tuesdays are not even Wednesday which is the middle of the week. There’s not even any solace in thinking it is the middle of the middle of the week. Tuesday is just the day I love to hate. And this is why I am typing this out today. To take my mind off of how much of a “struggle” getting through today will be. (And trying to force ourselves through a day should be meant for another post).

But I wear something green, usually a green shirt (what someone, or me would first look at when looking at my clothing) either a green button up or a green polo. And I think I wear green because it’s hard to have a bad attitude about green. There’s just nothing you can really dislike about a normal green. Thinking back, I have actually never heard anyone saying that they “hated the color green”. There are just too many good things about the color green to dislike it. Even in the most desolate of places, the green grass grows – and covers more than 1/4th of the land. (Thank you “Planet Earth” series) And for that reason, I feel that wearing a green shirt makes everything “right” in my world thus balancing my hatred of the day Tuesday.

The only other time I make a conscientious decision to change my attire for work is on Thursdays. Thursdays are the exact opposite of Tuesdays. Thursdays are one of my favorite days of the week. Thursdays are not a struggle. I look forward to Thursdays. Growing up, I always enjoyed Thursdays. The feeling of anticipation. The “it’s almost Friday” feeling. And the feeling of accomplishment once you got done with Thursday is unparalleled with any other day. “Only one more day to go” I would say to myself while falling asleep on Thursday nights. And there was a reason growing up that I knew that Thursdays were awesome. It was knowing that in the future I’d be part of the UW business school (really I didn’t know this, I’m being sarcastic), an outstanding place…a glorious institution that understood the value of the “work-life balance” (something that many employers should start taking in to more account…*cough*) by giving everyone included in the business school each Friday of each week off. Imagine my shock and surprise when I realized that 3 day weekends due to federal holidays would now become 4 day weekends. Never before in my life (other than summers as a child – but those don’t count) was I just given a day off for nothing.

Thus began the “dress for celebration/success” Thursday. Every Thursday in business school I’d make sure I was at least wearing something that could “button up” (instead of my normal wear of sweats/flip flops). Heck, I’d even be on the verge of business casual. Sometimes for presentations (because those were given usually on the last day of the week), I’d don a tie and wouldn’t be one bit embarrassed walking through those halls. (Sometimes I feel out of place wearing a tie in places like the grocery store). Thursdays I usually bust out the black slacks (I find them “dressier” than my khakis/chinos) with shiny black belt, black leather shoes (I usually wear the brown ones with my khakis) and freshly ironed button up shirt. Dressing up makes me feel like work actually means more (than it usually does to me) and for that reason I put my full energy in to making Thursdays a very good work day for myself.

Once I’m done with the clothes I head downstairs for the food. Ugh, what a bore this is becoming, I’m only at breakfast. Every morning, I start out by washing my hands (who knows where those hands have been while I’m sleeping!), and after washing my hands I cut open a bagel. Back in college it used to be 1 pop tart, but I’ve moved away from that towards bagels. And lately, it’s been Thomas Multi Grain bagels. The stuff gets stuck in your teeth and it’s kind of fun to play with (your tongue trying to get that shit out of your teeth, kind of like popcorn). Also, I believe the multi grain bagel, even with light cream cheese is still healthier for me than a pop tart.

While the bagel is toasting (all of 2 minutes) I prepare my lunch. Everyday at work (unless we’re out) I eat 1 banana in the morning and 1 apple with lunch. Since those are the staples of my day, I get them ready along with my “juice box” (minute maid sugar water) and throw them together in a pile. I wash the apple in steaming hot water (hoping to burn off any wax that may be on it) and wrap it in a paper towel. I use two paper towels every day. 1 for the apple, and 1 to wrap the bagel. Usually at 5:55 in the morning, I’m not too hungry, so I take 3-4 bites of my bagel which usually ends up being about 35-40% of it and then I wrap it and save the rest of it for work. The reason I bring my lunch to work every day is because I am not a baller and cannot go to the metropolitan grill for lunch every day. I wash the bagel down with roughly 8 ounces of Tropicana Orange Juice, or some sort of carrot juice from Trader Joe’s. Sometimes I’ll pop a Zyrtec too to help fight my allergies if I know it’s going to be a “high pollen count” day out there. There’s something satisfying about knowing that in that small amount of liquid I’ve already consumed my daily requirement for Vitamin C, but at the same time tasting better than some multivitamin would.

I head upstairs to clean my teeth – use the rubber pick to get out all of the bagel that’s now stuck in the cracks and crevices of my teeth and then brush my teeth until the blue toothpaste becomes baby blue – because that means I’ve been brushing for long enough and hopefully the toothpaste has done it’s job. After that, I might wet my bed-head down (since I take showers at night and if I lay for long enough on my side I get lines in my head), I could shave – which I do probably once every 4 days (one day I hope to hit puberty), maybe blow my nose one last time and then put my deodorant on and head out of the bathroom. One “Good morning” and “Have a good day – Love you darling” a kiss, and a good morning head scratch for the dog and I’m flying down the stairs.

Pack up my lunch, bagel and bottled water. Typically it’s 6:04-6:12 at this point depending on how slow I’ve been moving. Grab the clothes and shoes if I’m going to be working out after work, and then make my shoe decision. Typically the shoe decision is pretty easy. Khaki, or brown pants – brown leather shoes. Black pants, black shoes. Crazy enough, I think one of the biggest fashion mistakes that guys make is to wear white socks with black shoes. I hope that no one does that. If you do this, please stop as soon as possible. Unless you are too poor to buy black socks. But that doesn’t make any sense since you could afford white ones. I make it a point to wear black socks if I’m going to be wearing my black shoes. The shoe decision gets a little bit harder if it’s a “jeans” day. Ok, is it crappy outside? Maybe I’ll go with the Timbos. Am I wearing too much blue this morning? Maybe go for the black, orange and white Nikes. Do I not have any blue or very little blue on this morning? Or maybe I’m wearing my Adidas socks? Probably go for the brooks. I honestly believe there are certain “types” of people that can pull off the monochrome look. Not me, I like to have at least 3-4 different colors on.

Out to the garage, and in to the car as I watch the grass line carefully in my right mirror to make sure I’m backing down our driveway properly. If only I took this time to actually back in to my garage when I parked every afternoon/night, I wouldn’t have to back out in the mornings. It’s a real pain in the ass when it’s so dark out you can’t see the outline of the grass on each side of the driveway. I’ve driven in to the grass at least 3 times over the past year. The worst part is, I feel like such an idiot when I do that – driving is something I pride myself on. I might be a little bit too aggressive, but I only know of one male my age who isn’t.

I love people that drive in the mornings before 6:30 am. For some reason, I just feel like people who get up earlier are smarter about their driving. When I used to start at 9:30 am, I used to see people take their SWEET time getting to work. Is it because they were taking their sweet time to wake up? A coworker that starts at 9:30 am says that he gets up at “around 8”, makes himself an espresso, sits down to watch the news and check his email, then slowly hops in to the shower, eats a full breakfast and then moseys on in to work. On the opposite end of that, I roll out of bed and head to work basically. You can probably see how these two mentalities affect driving habits too. Anyway, it’s an excellent change of pace in comparison to what I used to go through, and it would be hard for me to ever give up this shift, or the location I’m in.

When I get to work, I try to park in the same spot every morning. Being one of the earliest morning shift – in fact THE earliest morning shift because if I worked any earlier they’d have to pay be a 10% differential (god forbid!) I get the closest spot to the front door minus all of the disabled and reserved carpool spots. It’s weird to me actually when I have to park in the spot next to “my spot”, or possibly even 2 spots down from there. When this happens, I know I was a bit later that usual. This morning, due to construction on my “usual” route to work, I decided to go down Maltby and then take the Bothell-Everett highway in. To my surprise it was just as fast as my back roads drive is, however not as fun (not as many curves). This dropped me off on the other side of the parking lot, so I decided to park in the first spot closest to the door on that side.

I guess sometimes a nice change of pace and scenery can keep things fresh. It’s terrible that these little “tweaks” I can make every day to my routine can decidedly keep me “fresh”, but I’ve got to have something that I can hold on to when I know I’ll be facing it roughly 48 weeks out of the year, 5 days a week, 8 hours a day. What I’ve just described is the beginning of my day. Imagine what the next 16 hours looks like…don’t worry for my sake at the least; I won’t include that here…yet. (Look! I used a semicolon! That’s different…)

Real Quick

Rarely do I do short posts anymore. But I just wanted to tell a story – somewhat fiction, because I like to write short stories – or at least I used to. I just hope it ends up being as short as I want it to be.

It was the first round of the playoffs. Shorthanded “Shawn Kemp’s Illegitemate Children” – yes, that was their team name – were in high spirits. First place, undefeated, and ready to roll over a team they had almost shut out during the season. A shut out! Can you believe that? In basketball? Unheard of. The one seed versus the nine seed. A total snoozer.

The game was scrappy. Pushing and shoving was going on down in the trenches. Elbows and shoulders getting thrown, someone busted in the groin had to sit out. It seemed that many of the players were going to foul out even before they had reached halftime. The refs were of no help either. Instead of letting the guys play and decide the game for themselves, they further angered everyone calling fouls when there were none, and not calling fouls when there were plenty.

He could tell the tensions were rising when he saw one of the guys put on the turbo boosters on the way down the court. This was for his pride. This was in front of his family and friends. He didn’t want to look like a fool, and there was no way the lanky kid was getting another dunk on him. Not another wide open one.

So I stood and watched. Almost in horror, almost in shock, but more of that adrenaline pumping goodness that is conflict. As I turned my back to the ball, I noticed number 61 come flying off the 3 point line to intercept a lob pass that had been thrown from half court. A couple dribbles and 2 guys chasing him – dunk it man. Throw it down. Fuck these guys, they’re a bunch of jokers.

But I knew it was coming. I knew that we were show boating a bit. Pressing with the lead of 20. Trying extra hard to crush the other team’s spirit on defense, when there was no way they could ever mount a comeback. I’d been there before. And, I’ve also had my emotions get the best of me at that point too.

Ever hear of the term pyrrhic victory? 61 was about to pay. 10 was motoring down the court, and I could already see the forearms cocked and ready. Suddenly time slowed. Or maybe it moved way too fast. 61 leaped in to the air to throw it down once more, and as he made his motion towards the heavens the two hands of number 10 pushed a little bit too hard into his lower back and 61 came crashing to the hardwood.

He let the emotion get the best of him. Good luck spitting on the face of a man with too much pride. 30 feet away, the group was running towards the commotion. Inaudible words were shot out of faces of rage. Close enough to throw punches. The thoughts raced. Keep calm. Being an adult – over 18 – assault charges – they’ve got us outnumbered 9 guys to 6. We’d never survive in a brawl. Let me get just one sucker punch in. I’d pick the skinny kid – 1 and done. Could I take 10? He’s got pretty big arms – but I’ve got the reach on him – don’t punch the skull. Peace makers arrived. I could still feel my jaw and right arm clenched.

A flagrant foul was called and 2 free throws were shot. 10 was still furious. He burned more of his energy gunning for 61. 61 sat down to avoid further injury.

Hopefully next week we’ll have enough players for a proper brawl.

Million Dollar Ideas

Ever since college (roughly about 3 years ago now) or maybe during college – I had ideas. Entrepreneurship ideas. Product ideas. And since a million dollars is a good, round number – and can earn you $60,000 a year in interest alone (before taxes darnit), I like it. And to this day, I’m still thinking up ways I can earn this much money – doing something.

So I entitled my ideas/partial dreams “Million Dollar Ideas”. And they’ve followed me everywhere. Michelle/Friends/Coworkers get to listen to them any time I come up with something. Of course I’ll never pursue them – because:

1) They’d take too much time. I don’t have the flexibility to just quit my job and take a risk like that.

2) Most of them require a million dollars to start with – just general investment capital for R&D and product development/patent/business application.

3) Rarely do I come up with an idea/product that has a lifespan of longer than 3-5 years. Sadly enough, I’d like to not be categorized with the “Pet Rock” and “Silly Putty” guys (no offense, I bet both of you are enjoying your millions…)

4) In general, I’m just too lazy. And typically, my coworkers aren’t too lazy to point out that the product has already been created – or the unlawful side of my business ideas. In my opinion it really takes someone who is very driven (and has very little to lose) to start a successful business. And I’ve heard crazy things like “90% of first time businesses fail”. I can’t take that risk with two mortgages currently hanging over my head.

So I know that this can’t be a reality – it’s still nice to day dream – and who knows, maybe one day I’ll come up with an idea that flies in the face of all my own – and others nay saying.

I remember one of my very first “million dollar ideas” – and still think it is a good idea – although I saw the product in Brookstone store (or whatever those stores are) about 4 years ago (I had this idea in late 2001). It came about when I had to get up for a 9:30 class the next morning (man I used to think 8:00 am was early – boy was I wrong), but my roommate and his friends were out in the family room playing video games – and obviously making a lot of noise to go along with it.

I’m a light sleeper – so I require either silence or very soothing music (but not too soothing!) to put me to sleep. Sleep doesn’t work well when you’ve got 3 rowdy guys down the hall screaming out profanities and all of them either skipping class the next day – or not having their first class until 2 hours later than I start mine. Either way, when this situation would occur, I’d throw on my sound blocking head phones and my MP3 player. (Rio – see, this was before the I-pod). A little Norah Jones, and I was out. But as soon as I rolled over to one of my sides (I can’t sleep only on my back or on my stomach), my head (huge if you haven’t noticed – literally) was crushing one side of my head phones. Uncomfortable, I’d have to wake up, pull off my head phones and hear once again, the sound of screaming testosterone filled men.

That’s when I thought of the pillow – filled with speakers that played music. And I know, some of you might say, “But couldn’t you just play music on your stereo or your computer next to your bed? Yes. You could. But the music wouldn’t be RIGHT in your ear like a headphone would be – and blocking out most of the sound from further away from you. Which is why a pillow MP3 player was one of my first “great” ideas – In my opinion. I’d figure it’d have a built in alarm – something you could maybe turn off by punching the thing? Hah. Anyway, I believe the product has already been created – and obviously hasn’t been that successful – but then again it’s in one of those “we’re from the future stores”, so maybe it’s not mainstream enough yet.

Another product idea I had was waterproof running shoes – that breathe. I’ve heard that these have been created too – and someone made the argument that there’s thing called scotch guard too…OK – fine. The problem with really waterproofing something is that if it’s not letting anything in, none of your sweat or heat from your feet (if you’re being physically active) is escaping either. My thought was – if I could create some sort of reservoir for hot air/sweat that was built in to the sole – and if a person could wear socks that the sweat quickly passed through (like a second skin – Under Armor socks – do they make these?) the sweat/air could pool up in the reservoir, and for every foot strike, the shoe would create a suction, sucking all the hot air/sweat out of the reservoir and down a tube and out through the heel. Therefore leaving behind all the stuff that keeps your foot hot and sweaty.

And I understand that heat rises – so if there was a way we could make the top of the shoe like a better formed pot top – you know when you boil water and all the gas goes as far as it can – to the cover – where it becomes liquid again? And when you pull the cover off of a boiling pot of water, all the drops run to the sides? Something like that. I’ll be ticked if I see Nike come out with something like this (this is a recent idea – roughly about 4-5 months ago).

I have about 5-7 more product ideas – but they are much more short lived and sillier than these. Just a taste of the kinds of products I think about which would make life a little better.

Now for a couple business ideas. These are the ones that have loomed large in my head, and the ones that would probably require at least a few million in capital:

This one I came up with last year (probably about 8 months ago or so), and is more of an investment strategy than an actual business. With the recent fall of the sub-prime mortgage lenders, and those who got in to houses they couldn’t afford by using “creative financing” – the market for foreclosed homes is going to be where the real estate deals are over the next 2-3 years. Maybe even 5. Foreclosed homes usually are sold at a discount because the banks are just trying to offload the loan – and the risk as quickly as possible. For homeowners to default on their loan payments is obviously very bad for them – but also very bad for the banking institutions. From what I understand foreclosed homes are auctioned off at the county courthouses in the counties which the homes are located in. This is where I need the capital – on the day of auction, I would need roughly 20% of the foreclosed home price available to me – in cash.

If I was given even $1 million to work with in capital (again, I know I’m dreaming – but just play along) I’d try to find a couple homes either close to foreclosing – or already foreclosed in the $200K to $400K price range. I’d start with anywhere between 3 to 5 properties, and renovate them. It’s amazing what a lot of hard work by a couple people and no interest financing at the local home and garden store can do to a house that hasn’t been loved in 15 years.

So with the people facing foreclosure, I’d buy the loan from them, and make the payments for them. I’m assuming that with most of the foreclosed homes, I’d have to do some work to bring them up to my living standards (which are pretty high in my opinion) in order to get more value out of the homes when I sold them.

In essence, after renovating these newly purchased homes, I would rent them. But here’s what would make my offer so much more enticing to people looking to rent: I’d be willing to offer a cut (I was thinking 10% - maybe 20% if they’re great renters) of whatever profit was made on the home once I sold it. That way, even though they are renting from me – as soon as I sold it, I could guarantee an amount back to them meaning they would at least get some of their rent money back (or possibly break even or earn a profit). What’s great about this system I think, is that it forces the renters to take as good of care of the house as if they had actually owned it. The better they maintain the property, the higher it will sell for in the future – and the more they would earn. Definitely a “win-win” situation.

Just as an example, I’ll run through a quick purchase: I’ve found properties near my area, a foreclosed home in the area, 4 bed 2 and a half bath and 2000 square feet for $340K. Note – the median home price in my area is roughly around $450K+ right now. Looking at the pictures, it looked like a pretty beat down place. I’d (hopefully) purchase it at the county auction – putting $70K down. I’d finance the rest ($270K) on a 5/1 ARM, roughly making my payments about $1500/month for the mortgage. I’d do whatever it takes to upgrade it to my standards – new flooring, new cabinets, new appliances, granite countertops, paint, outdoor yard/lawn work – and hopefully get the job done after working roughly 2-3 months. I’d put up the “for rent” sign and only require the renters to pay market value or less. And would even be willing to take a couple hundred dollars worth of loss every month if that’s what it took to get people I trusted in that home.

After renovating the home, (putting anywhere between $20K-$70K in to the property if it really needed it) I would assume the value of the home would raise to at least $400K, or more. Assuming a more conservative rate of home price increases (at 9% a year – we were reappraised in our house after a year and appraised at 17% more than when we purchased) and taking a conservative home pricing of $400K, after 3 years of renting the home is then worth roughly $510K. Sell the home off (and assuming Michelle gets her Real Estate license, she sells this for very little commission, we’ll say 3% to pay the RE company), and pay off the balance of the ARM ($270K) and we should be in the clear.

So, quick number breakdown on ONE of the few properties we could do this with:

Costs:

Home purchase: $340K

Renovations: $50K

$200 loss on renters every month for 36 months: $7,200 (assuming we give them a discount on rent – and pay for our own insurance on the property)

Total Cost: $400K

Profit:

Home sale: $510K

After 3% RE commission: $495K

After 15% ($15K given back to renters – for keeping up the place (almost a 30% back of what they paid in rent!)

Total Profit: $80K.

Now I know that doesn’t look like much – but when you’re doing this with 3-5 different properties, it can add up pretty quickly. And really how much work did you put in this house for that $80K? 5 months at the most. I’d say that’s a pretty good income – even for 2 people.

Now if I could just find an investor to look at this idea with me…

My next idea (and last/shorter one since this post is getting out of hand), would be to start my own insurance company. I work for one – but sometimes I don’t understand it. It’s required by law to have insurance in our state – so no matter what the demand is there. Insurance to me is like gambling against yourself. That’s why it doesn’t make much sense to me – why should I gamble against myself?

In order to start my business I’d need base capital of about $5-7 million to be safe. This is to pay out on possible claims that could get pretty nasty. Obviously in the coverages I offered to my clients, it would have the maximum amount payable on a claim written on their policies, so no one claim would take even 20% of that nest egg.

Here’s how the insurance company would work: (Please note, I’m not sure if there are any sort of state/federal regulations against opening a business like this). I’d only go for the cream of the crop. And when I talk about those types, I mean literally the perfect drivers. The people who haven’t had a claim filed their entire lives. (Or at least the last 5 years). The guy who drives his 1998 Volvo 60 mph in the right lane, always signals, gets his oil changed religiously, checks tire pressure –etc. Never been in an accident, never received a speeding ticket…Immediately I think this cuts out 90% of the driver’s on the road today though. Sad.

Then we’re going to cut even further. We’re not going to allow drivers under the age of 25. We’re not going to write policies for people that live in high crime areas. We’re not going to allow a credit score below the 600s. What this means is that these people are going to pay us – on time. And will continue to pay us. So from the 10% left of those amazing drivers, we’ll have roughly only 7% left. That 7% of people is my target for this business. I want perfect people that don’t want to pay high premiums.

And I’m talking about SLASHING those premiums. Oh, you’re paying $600 every 6 months to Pemco? Come to our company, we’ll offer you $400. $300. Because really – isn’t that money all profit? Here you have a driver who is almost guaranteed to not get in to accident or get a speeding ticket for the next 20-25 years. Why do insurance companies even charge these people money? Because they’re helping to pay for all the claims the rest of us fuck ups create. They’re an elite driver or home owner – they deserve to be with an elite company that gives them a discount for being responsible drivers. Sick – I sound like Allstate.

But how will the claims work? You might ask. Because my client base is so small, the money flowing in can’t be as large as the other companies. You’re right. But the money being paid out on claims isn’t as frequent or as large either. Here’s why: I’m going to implement (as if the business is already existing) a 2 strikes you’re out rule. 1 claim – we’ll pay for it, and your premium will skyrocket by the way – hopefully you leave us at this point. 2 claims and you’re done. You are no longer our client. We thought you were better than that. I guess not. We’ll pay for it – as we’re throwing you out the door. Elite status card revoked.

I figure there are at least 10,000 drivers on the Washington roads right now that fit in to my business target. If I can get every single one of them with my company – and charge them a whopping $500/year (or a little bit more dependent upon what they drive - really this is a great deal for anyone who drivers fully covered) – I make $500K a year on pure profit. Sure, out of 10,000 drivers, I’ll probably pay a bit of claims out – but hopefully they won’t be large and frequent (knowing my client base) but I’ve also got the base of capital to work with – which is earning money itself. And the larger I can grow that “nest egg” for insurance, the more I can earn on my invested funds, the lower I can drop the premiums.

So those are a few of my ideas. Have at them. Please don’t steal them. Hah – I can’t believe I wrote that. I’ve thought (daydreamt) long hard hours about them – and it even took me an hour to type this all up. Dang, I wish it hadn’t taken so long…

Goodnight.