Defining 'sentimental'

I mentioned in the previous post about me getting 'sentimental'. With this, I mean I started crying. I couldn't help it. Fonz was just telling me about how he made sure every detail was perfect when he got engaged. He gave her the ring right at the stroke of New Year's 2007. Beautiful.

That's when I got sad. Very sad. You know the drill: 'Nobody will ever love me, I am just too old, too stupid, etc.' And then tears started falling down my face. Dumbass.

I must get a grip on my emotions. True, I am devastated inside, but I have to overcome it. Otherwise I will become like a big girl repellent. Even more so than I am now.

I got drunk!

Yesterday was a bad day for drinking. I went to a local pub for my friend Joe's birthday and must've had about eight beers or more. The thing is that, I used to be able to tell when I was getting wasted. Three beers was my limit. Now I was knocking them back like apple juice. I was amazed, really. I felt no effect over me, other than a little buzz. But it was when I got really sentimental that I realized that I was totally drunk.

Not totally, though. I could still drive. But had I stayed a bit longer, somebody would've had to take me home.

My hips don't lie, they hurt

Talking about Shakira got me all pumped up and it made me want to let my inner bellydancer surface. Unfortunately, I lack the years of daily training my girl Shakira endured. And so, when I started moving my hips trying to imitate that wild Colombian, I felt something snap in my back. I couldn't sit up straight for hours after that. Better leave the bellydancing to the pros.

Tonight, on a very special CSI

I love CSI very much. However, I understand that as a TV show, it needs to keep viewers glued to their seats week after week. And one surefire way to do it is to portray deviant behaviour. They did a show on paraphilic infantilism, and another one on clown fetish. However, what really got me squirming was their furry fandom episode. In case you are too lazy to click on the links, being a furry means you have a very intense attraction towards antropomorphic animals. Some even dress as big furry beasts and they have sex with their furry suits on.

As I watched the show, I kept thinking to myself 'well, I've never heard of furries before, but if it's on CSI, it probably is true' and a quick search on Google proved me right. Not only are the furries real, but they even have their own wiki, for crying out loud.

I am reminded of Wayne's World's Garth Algar (Dana Carvey), who asks his friend Wayne (Mike Myers) if he ever found Bugs Bunny attractive when he put on a dress and played a girl bunny.

You can relax, my dear Garth: you're not alone.

Shakira

I love her. I really do. How can you not? She's got a great body and a beautiful physique. Plus, she is Colombian. What else could you possibly want?

I loved her inicial phase, but her post-crossover phase has been interesting as well. I wish she would make at least one video where her pelvis is the feature star. But her songs are really cool. I love how focused she is, and how well she has handled fame, despite the fact that she started up very young. Exactly what Britney couldn't do.

Some compared Shakira's songwriting and lyrical style to Alanis Morissette's, but where is Alanis now? Probably scraping the bottom of a dumpster somewhere. Talk about a one-album wonder.

But Shakira is different. Seven albums and still going strong. And even though she seems unable to make one video without shaking her hips all over the place, the vids are always cool to watch. Even the old stuff is really good despite it's over ten years old.

Man, I love that woman.

Lizzie

Lizzie, have I told you about her? She's hard to describe. First of all, she's one of those girls who doesn't look like anybody else, yet she has a beauty all of her own. And even though she's really elegant and proper, she's also very accesible and nice. She's great conversation partner, too.

So why haven't I been putting the moves on her? Several reasons. First of all, she's a friend of my sister's, and that's always a big hurdle. Also, neither of us was single up until recently.

But suddenly, she was single once more. This flicked a switch inside of me, and so I began to be extra nice to her, while I awkwardly attempting to obtain a secure foothold in her heart. But it was never to be. Shortly afterwards, she showed up at my mom's house with a guy in tow. I was crushed, and it was a really grueling evening while I attempted to digest the fact that I wasn't even in the picture.

Over time, I found out bits and pieces of information, which painted a broader canvas than the one I had envisioned. She had known the guy for over four years. They'd been dating almost since she went back on the market. So I never really had a chance.

Oh well, at least she's still fun to talk to.

About girlfriends...

Here's another post about my endless search for a new love. I've had several talks with folks and they have concurred that my approach was totally mistaken. Basically I screwed everything with Addie because I told her I loved her too early in the game. The idea is to focus on making out first, then asking out. My bad.

But I think the problem isn't just my approach, but that I have the whole girlfriend thing badly focused. I need to stop thinking about looking for the love of my life. I need to stop thinking about finding a wife. I need to live my present. I need to get a girl, even if she doesn't have any of the qualities that I think my perfect woman should have. I need to do it to prove myself I can still reel them in. This relationship should be short-term. Six to twelve months, max. Then move on to the next one.

Hopefully, this way I will learn the techniques to be more alluring and charming and I will be able to gain access to girls better suited for my long-term purposes.

I see only one problem: my tendency to fall in love very easily. I need to kill this impulse for good. Love should only come after months and months of sharing, not after a few weeks. If I don't handle this, I could lose all objectivity and end up with the wrong girl. And I really, really don't want that.

The gym solution

Going to the gym has a very positive effect on my mood.
While I'm there, I can say 'I may be chubby, but at least I'm doing something about it!'
It helps me to forget about my troubles for a bit. Plus, the feeling of working out till you're really tired is completely refreshing.

Everybody is a critic

I have recently noticed how everybody seems to have an unpleasant comment about everybody's boyfriend or girlfriend.

As I mentioned previously, Bay's fiancee gets called some very nasty names on account of her size. It could be argued that she gets such a rough treatment because she is quite a character, an acquired taste, if you will.

Nice people get uncivil comments too. A woman once told me that a co-worker's fianceé (a very nice and friendly gal) was 'too ugly for him'. Obviously, the harpy was annoyed by the fact that the guy hadn't picked her. She obviously hadn't looked at herself on a mirror either.

But people also say rude things about folks they supposedly like. A guy said that a mutual friend's girlfriend 'looked like a man', because she isn't fond of dresses or skirts.

Wonder what they'll say about my girlfriend. Once I get one, that is.

Making fun of extra wide citizens

My friend Bay works down at Lexcorp. He's the nicest guy ever. You'd like him too if you met him. His fianceé, well... that's a whole different story. She is kind of annoying and dominating. She also has a way to rub people the wrong way. Because of this, she is constantly being made fun of behind her back. The fact that she is a plus-plus-size girl is a favorite subject of derisive remarks. They call her 'propane tank', amongst other things. I am not specially fond of the girl, but I don't join in. My friend Bay seems really happy, and that's what matters.

However, sometimes you just can't take the high road. I was just checking Bay's MySpace page, and he had posted a photo of his normal-size mom and his plump bride-to-be. The caption underneath read, 'Here's the two stars of my life.'

Before I knew it, this popped in my mind: ''Well, his mom may be a star, but his fiancee is a supernova!" Then, I started chuckling.

I am not proud of myself.

The Clean Magazine Project

Remember when a magazine was about the articles? Nowdays, it seems as though magazines are all about the ads. Ads are okay, don't get me wrong. Advertising helps bring magazine prices down. What I am complaining about is the proliferation of inserts, that is pieces of advertising made in hard papers to stand out when you flip through the magazine. Inserts are very common in design magazines, because they're used to promote some special kind of paper: recycled, extra-white, textured, etc. However, this practice makes using the magazine very cumbersome. The inserts will get in your way when you are reading, they will bend a magazine the wrong way, etc.

Over the years, I've had fantasies where I trim all the inserts from the magazines, making them easier to use. I even came up with a name for that: the Clean Magazine Project. I kept making it aside as time went on, because I didn't want to endure the hassle of trimming a publication and risk cutting a page or two of content.

But the latest issue of Print (January/February) pushed me over the edge. Here I was, holding the magazine in my hand I couldn't really use it. It would open in the wrong places again and again because of the incredible amount of inserts it contained. I tried to endure it for about five minutes before I cracked. I got so frustrated I ripped the biggest advertising off with my very own hands. Before I knew it, I had taken the magazine over to my workspace and, using a paper knife, had proceeded to cut away every single advert I could find. In the end, over ten pieces of cardboard were at my feet. When you consider that the magazine has about 110 pages, it comes down to one insert every 11 pages. Ridiculous.

To the many magazine advertisers who plan to use inserts, I say: bring it.
The Clean Magazine Project is now officially ON.

I need to become eye candy

I hate being single. Sure, I have lots of time and money to myself, but I'm lonely as heck, and I miss simple stuff like holding somebody really close. I wanna love and be loved. But, as with so many things I want with in life, I have done nothing to achieve that goal. I'm still as fat as ever, and I still look like I was just mugged five minutes ago. Grooming goes a long way, they tell me. My dad never had any of my troubles. He was an athlete. He was a snappy dresser. He always looked good.

Revisiting the Addie situation

I've been thinking about Addie's rejection. It's hard not to, when Addie is working right there. But her vacation time is coming up, and she is gonna be gone for a month, and I'm hoping that will cool things off a bit in my head.

It's for the best. I've been talking with a bunch of people, and while some have told me to keep at it, and ask her again eventually, others have told me to look for new pastures. I'm leaning toward option #2, because of the following factors:

Workplace: work and love is not a good mix
Geography: she lives all the way across town
Religion: we don't share a place of worship

But mainly, I don't think I'll try again because she isn't interested in me at all.

I can barely walk

I have gone back to the gym. I have strived to keep at it, doing cardio mostly. On Thursday, I ran into my friend Bruce, who started going to the same gym as I. He convinced me to do weights for the first time in a really long while. I did leg and shoulder exercises. Then, I ran a bit on Friday.

Now I can barely move. I can't extend my left arm, or my left leg. They are totally stiff and they hurt as heck when I try to move them.

I think I'll skip the gym today. Maybe tomorrow too.

Gosh, I've been here before

KLF is a good friend, and a coworker down at Lexcorp. His mom was really sick with cystic fibrosis. She was a fighter, but finally she succumbed to a heart attack, probably brought on by the disease.

So I went to the funeral and the burial. I couldn't stay long to either affair since I had to go back to work. Dammit, it all felt so familiar: the funeral home, the cemetery, mourners in black, the candles, the crying. But my own experiences now feel really far away, like I didn't really live them, but rather watched them on a TV show or something. Time is merciless and unreleting. It pushes memories ever far back.

The one thing I hate about funerals is that I don't know what to say. I want to sound conforting, but I hate saying some clichéd phrase. However, if you want to get creative, you always sound weird. So this time I just gave everyone a big hug and said nothing.

To KLF and all his family, my condolences. May God give you the strength you need to overcome this tragedy. My thoughts are with you always.

Happy New Year 2007

2006 is over. Here comes 2007.
What joys and horrors, triumphs and tribulations will it bring?
We can only wait to find out.