My new goal

You know food commercials that always show food close ups looking all delicious and yummy? What happens to the food after the commercial has been filmed? Do you think there’s someone who just goes from set to set eating the food once the commercial’s done?

If so, I want to be that guy.

Welcome to the Jungle

I know, I know, I haven’t posted in awhile. But it’s been a busy week. I’ve been moving into Milwaukee and been occupied with orientation. Not very interesting stuff. We’ve all been through orientation that before so we know what it’s like: “Here’s the library, here’s the administration building, don’t play with matches etc”. When I get to classes and teaching next week I’m sure I’ll have more interesting experiences to talk about. For now I’ll just post my thoughts on the great city of Milwaukee.

Milwaukee sucks. And blows. You may think that that’s physically impossible, but Milwaukee has found a way. It’s hot, which I can take, but it’s also very very humid. Every time I walk outside it’s like walking into a wall of wet ass. Graphic description, I know, but a true one. Oh, and I don't have a/c so that adds to the enjoyment.

In addition to being the waiting room for hell, Milwaukee has got some weird quirks about it. First, nobody here obeys red lights. If someone is waiting at the line and can’t see any cross traffic they’ll just go right through no matter the color of the light. The other thing that’s crazy about this place is the there are cemeteries all over this place. There are four of them within two miles of campus and that’s no exaggeration. Somehow I think that the first weird thing causes the second. Someone gets hit by a red light running psycho and the paramedics can just roll the body off into the random cemetery that’s always right next to the accident.

The last thing about Milwaukee is that a lot of people smoke here. It also doesn’t help that restaurants and bars allow smoking all over the place. I go out to eat and take a bite of my pasta and it tastes like charcoal. Pizza tastes like charcoal. Chicken still tastes like chicken. I’ve got nothing against smokers, just the act of smoking. But if my canned fruit start tasting like cigarettes I’m gonna scream.

Too hot to handle

I know that in my last post I lamented how life can be terrifyingly boring. My current job is certainly no exception, but every once and awhile an event occurs that causes me to become so traumatized that I would do anything to return to those nostalgic days of boredom. Today one such event occurred.

I was sorting the mail, which in itself is a frustrating exercise. You spend 40 minutes carefully organizing paperwork that in itself will generate another 3 hours of paperwork. Needless to say I was looking for a distraction. That distraction came in the form of Jessica (the names have been changed to protect the innocent). Jessica is my 50ish coworker who is pretty much one of the nicest people around. She’s always helping me with my many purchasing questions and never minds doing it. Anywhoo, she asked me to turn on the air conditioning (the control is right by my desk). I turned it on and said “it sure is a warm one today, isn’t it?” Yes, I have been relegated to looking for in excitement in weather conversations. Well, that day excitement found me when Jessica replied “Nope, just going through one of my hot flashes”.

I froze. Nothing in my 21 years of life could have prepared me for this moment. We maintained the awkward eye contact and my mind screamed and writhed with revulsion. Searching for something, anything, to say I dumbly replied “Yeah, I know what you mean”. The eye contact continued. Obviously I’m the wrong gender and too young by 40 years to have any clue what Jessica meant. My mouth did the fumbling open and close motion for a few seconds and I wondered to myself if I jumped head first out the window the tension might be broken. Unfortunately, the tension was broken by something much worse.

Before Jessica could respond, Sarah (I know, another clever pseudonym) walked in and proudly began to continue hot-flashes conversation. Luckily the awkward statement of the year lay forgotten but unluckily the menopause conversation between these two ladies raged on. I’m the only male in the office and since I’m 30 years younger than anybody half the time the other employees don’t even acknowledge me. This was one of those times. I focused like I had never focused before on my paper work but phrases like “cold sweat” and “dryness down there” seeped through. I quickly cranked the a/c down to 68 degrees and thankfully the conversation shifted to something less vomit-inducing.

Now I know it seems like I’m being a tad immature. After all, menopause is a “natural part of life” and I shouldn’t be so uncomfortable about it. But people I’m sorry, there’s only one person a man should hear gripe about “the second change” and that’s his wife or girlfriend. Don’t get me wrong; many years from now I’ll be all supportive to my wife. But hearing that conversation between two co-workers made me long for the days of boredom.

Blog Post the First

Why am I writing this blog? That is the true question. Actually, there’s not much of an answer: I’m bored at work. Sure there are other things I could be doing right now such as Solitare, reading a book, actually doing my work, or falling asleep on the keyboard. But on this historic day I’ve decided to begin writing a blog.

Now I’m sure that this announcement is causing you to become filled with questions such as: will this thing actually be interesting? Or: Crap, do we have to suffer through another kid externalizing his emo feelings? Well, the answer to both questions is a resounding “NO”. I think that a man should have no emotion and should never cry, unless it’s a happy cry over some steak cooked perfectly. If by some freak of nature that the planets align, there’s a full moon, it’s Friday the 13^th and the San Francisco Giants win the pennant, all causing a man to feel emotion, then the last thing he should do is share with friends, quasi-friends who found the blog through facebook, or creepy stalkers who roam the Internet. No, if a man feels his heart quiver for whatever reason his only options are to drink heavily, play rugby, or preferably both.

So this blog will probably not cover much new ground. Thanks for tuning in I guess, but don’t expect to experience some life changing realization about life or hear one of my deep dark secrets (I once ate a worm when I was six). Instead what this blog will relate the random exciting experiences that punctuate the drudgery that is day to day life. Who knows, you might be able to relate to this blog after all.