indubitably dubious

it's all downhill from here...in a good way

2008-08-27T07:55:00.000-07:00

I think I need to change the title of my last blog to "craziest YEAR of my life". This year (2008) is now officially the most exciting of the 25 years I've been around. So many exciting life-changing events are happening at such a mind-boggling rate of speed, I'm having trouble even remembering all of them. Perhaps I'm just embracing a new zeal for life and therefore lumping everything into the "exciting" category? Possible...but I don't think that's the case. I think I've actually just spent the past 4 years slowly clicking my way up that first big hill on my roller coaster of life. After a while, it starts to feel like you aren't even really going anywhere.

Well I think my car is just now starting to crest the hill. I'm tilting forward as the car in front of me heads down the track and for the first time I'm starting to realize just how high I'd really gotten. It's a heck-of-a-lot higher than I thought! I can see the winding, twisting, non-stop thrill ride that lies ahead of me and I know for a fact that it's going to be "intense"...like a roadside Amish bread stand (courtesy of Jake...ask me if you want an explanation on that one).

Yeah, I see the ride has some tunnels in certain parts. I have no idea what's inside them or where the track goes once I'm in there but I know it's still going to be a fun ride. I'm sure some parts are going to be more fun than others. It might even be downright terrifying at times; but once I've reached the end and it's time to get off, I have no doubt I'm going to be saying "Wow, what an awesome ride!"

That's a long way off though...I hope. I'm still at that first hill (everyone knows the first hill is always the most exhilirating) and you bet your sweet bippie I'm going to make the most of it! My lap bar is securely fastened, my hands are up in the air and I'm ready for the ride of my life!

craziest month of my life: part 1 - vacation

2008-07-31T07:00:00.000-07:00

As promised, this is going to be the first in a series of entries regarding my crazy month of July. I’m going to combine some events in order to consolidate the blogs but I still have a feeling they’re going to be a bit verbose.

First off, let me tell you about my vacation. Justin (former college room mate/future post-college room mate) and I decided to take a trip down to West Palm Beach Florida for a few days. The trip was dual-purpose: the first day was business and the remainder was therapy. We had both been researching helicopter schools and stumbled across a local community college in West Palm Beach that had teamed up with a few local area flight schools to offer a degree along with a license. I won’t bore you with the details of why this is such an ideal arrangement right now but let’s just say it made it appealing enough for us to want to fly down and check it all out in person. So that’s what we did.

We coordinated our travel plans so that we were both arriving around the same time to the Palm Beach Airport. Of course all of our well-laid plans went right down the pooper when Justin’s flight got cancelled and I had to wait at the airport for 5 hours because the stinkin rental car companies wanted to charge me an extra $25 bucks a day to rent the car in my name because for another 5 days I was technically still only 24 so I waited and waited and waited... (I’d like to take this opportunity to thank PBI for having free wireless internet and thank NBC for putting full episodes of their shows on their website. Ya’ll are life savers!)

The first day of the trip was reserved for checking out the flight school, the college, and the West Palm Beach area. First on the itinerary was visiting the flight school. I guess I was a little excited about it because we actually showed up for our appointment an hour early. The receptionist actually asked us to leave and come back in an hour so we went to a little local diner (Jo-Jo’s) and grabbed some grub to kill time. A little embarrassing but I’d rather be an hour early than an hour late, right?

We finished breakfast then came back for our tour, this time a little closer to our scheduled time. The facilities were rather small so the tour itself didn’t take very long but that was fine with me because the main thing I was interested in was taking place after the tour: my demo flight. I’ve never actually flown in a helicopter before so I figured if I’m going to make this my future career, perhaps I should actually try it first. At the conclusion of the tour my pilot Matt gave me my headset and we headed out to the helipad. Justin took care of the documentation of this epic event while Matt talked me through the pre-flight checklist and tested all the control surfaces. Once everything checked out it was time to take to the skies!

I was unbelievably excited. I sat in the pilot seat while Matt sat in the training seat next to me, obviously with his own matching set of controls. He fired up the engine and we waited for an eternity (or so it seemed to me) for the little light to go off indicating the rotor was at full speed. When it was, Matt ever so gently began to pull up on the collective (the stick that makes the helicopter go up) making our little craft shake as it “got light on the skids”. The downdraft from the spinning blades blasted into the tiny door-less cabin temporarily alleviating the stifling heat and humidity. As Matt continued to pull up on the stick the helicopter began to rise further and further off the ground. Although I couldn’t see it, I could tell that there was a direct relationship between the distance we were from the ground and the size of my smile: the higher we got, the bigger my smile got. We hover-taxied only a few feet off the ground across the runway as my smile continued to grow. Once we were in position Matt pulled hard on the stick and we finally began to climb high and fast into the sky. By this time my smile had reached capacity so my overwhelming excitement needed another outlet: I actually began to laugh. Now that I think back Matt was probably wondering, “What the heck is so funny? This kid is loony.” True as that may be, I was overcome with excitement. This is the type of telltale reaction I was hoping for. That moment was crucial for me, for if I’m going to invest years of training into this (not to mention the substantial financial investment) then I wanted to make sure I was going to enjoy it. “Enjoy”…that isn’t even close to describing how I felt about it. I was ecstatic!

As we flew above housetops and along the beach I asked myself the question I had determined to ask while I was up there: “Can I see myself doing this every single day for the rest of my life?” The answer was an emphatic “Yes!” I loved every single bit of it and was trying desperately to soak in every last detail. After a few minutes Matt asked me if I was ready to take my turn at the controls. Are you kidding me?! Of course I am! He let me try the different control functions individually will he took care of the other 2 so he always had the majority control while still letting me experience an aspect of the flight. It was definitely challenging. We came down low again to try hovering and I definitely had a rough time with that. Matt assured me that it was the most difficult part and that they made it look easy. He said it would get easier over time but for my fist flight I did a good job. Hey, I’ll take that. I’m just glad I didn’t crash the darn thing!

From the flight school, Justin and I moved on to the college. There we met with the lady in charge of the pilot program and discussed the details of the program with her. We stayed for about an hour and got quite a bit of useful info. Unfortunately, it wasn’t all good news. The cost of the program is insanely high especially for out of state residents and we found we’d have to live there for about a year to establish residency. Also, due to restrictions set by the school it wasn’t exactly possible to finance the whole thing so a lot of the money would have to come from somewhere other than loans. That was a bit of a bummer to Justin and I but we figured we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.

Once the work was over the rest of the trip was nothing but fun. We saw movies, checked out the Palm Beach nightlife, went kayaking, rented jet skis, and had a ton of fun just driving around and farting away the remaining 4 days. It was the vacation I had needed for quite some time and I’m so glad Justin was the one to go with me. At the end of the trip when it was time to come home, my batteries were recharged and I was prepared to sit down and ponder all of the information I’d gathered and what the next step would be towards my career. I was fully prepared to return to work and fall right back into my humdrum schedule. Little did I know, the excitement was FAR from over!

a blizzard i don't mind so much

2008-07-29T07:59:00.000-07:00

I haven’t really been blogging for all that long, however I have been documenting important memories and big events in my life ever since we were required to keep a journal for Mr. Nelson’s classes in like 8th grade. Never in all the years that I’ve been recording my thoughts have I ever had as much to write about as I do now. July of 2008 has been the craziest month of my life, especially the past 2 weeks or so. I’m going to briefly list some of the reasons why in this particular post, then hopefully touch on each one more specifically over the next few days (weeks?). I definitely need to record this stuff. It’s been a month I’ll never forget, and here are some of the reasons why…

Took a much-needed vacation to Palm Beach FL with Justin
Took my first step towards my future career by taking a “demo flight” in a helicopter
Got a free round-trip airline ticket and made a new friend on the longest travel day of my life thus far
Had my first surprise birthday party on the most memorable birthday of my life
Got to be on a dance team and participate in a country music video for CMT (oh this is quite a story, lemme tell ya!)
…and finally, the big one: received a job offer that may potentially bring with it some tremendous opportunities and is guaranteed to bring with it some major life changes.

I feel like my little “snow globe of life” has been slowly settling over the past 4 years. All the exciting little particles of activity had settled to the bottom and life was beginning to get rather humdrum. Sure there were still things that would happen every now and then that would bump my little glass ball and stir up some short-lived activity but for the most part it felt like my life was getting a little stagnant.

Well, over the past 7 months or so, that all changed. It started with the Judge Judy incident in Dec of 07 / Jan of 08. What an experience that was! It couldn’t have gotten the year off to a better start. Since then, things have continued to get incrementally more exciting until this month, July of 2008. This was obviously the month that God decided that the waters of my life’s little globe had been sitting un-stirred long enough, so He picked it up and shook it like crazy!

It goes without saying that any time there are sudden and unexpected changes to a lifestyle you’ve grown comfortable with, you can expect there to be a bit of uneasiness (uncertainty) that comes along with it. True, I do feel a smidge of that uneasiness but this is different. I welcome this excitement. I welcome these changes. I welcome these unexpected events that have caused my snow globe to explode into a blinding blizzard of activity. I have no idea what to expect but it’s extremely exciting.

I’ve been saying for a while that I wasn’t happy with the way things were going and was in need of some changes but I was too comfortable with where I was to do anything about it. Not now. I’m ready and the “die” has been cast. It’s in God’s hands (as always) to control the outcome. I know all of the changes aren’t necessarily going to be good ones but I welcome the challenges I’m about to face. I’ve seen how the things I’ve been through over the past 4 or 5 years have changed me, for the better I believe. They’ve taken me places I never imagined I’d go and taught me things I never imagined I’d know. I wouldn’t trade those experiences for anything.

“Change can not happen by doing the same thing the same way. It will take sacrifice somewhere, some way.”

blessed indifference

2008-06-26T04:24:00.000-07:00

The dating scene has been a little boring as of late. That's not to say that I haven't had any dates, let's just say that the ladies aren't exactly lining up in droves for a chance to go out with me (not that I'm complaining...I like money). A day or so ago there was an incident that made me realize just how much I've changed over the past couple of years. I'm going to be slightly vague just in case the person I'm referring to spontaneously decides to start reading for pleasure and stumbles upon this blog.

We were at an event and as always I was getting a little goofy and when I say "a little goofy", I do mean a little. Comparitively speaking I only exhibited a mere fraction of the goofiness I have been known to display. Allow me to elaborate: It was warm so I took off my long sleeved shirt and instead of carrying it like a normal person (boring) I tried to come up with a more creative way of taking it with me. Option A was to tie it around my waist......gay. Option B was to throw it over one shoulder...tried it, didn't like it. So I jokingly went with the next option and draped both sleeves over my shoulders and tied it in the front in true "Prep Boy" fashion. I then puffed up my chest, turned up my nose and began to saunter and strut in an effort to really sell the act. My companion jokingly acted embarrassed, told me to take it off and tried to fall back so as not to be seen with me. Well I wasn't going to let her get out of becoming a public spectacle that easily so I walked over and put my arm around her so that everyone would know that she was with the idiot. As would be expected, she laughed and ducked out from under my arm to run a few steps away and once again told me to stop. I continued my strut unhindered by her protests.

Long story short, her laughter and lighthearted protests weren't exactly genuine. Turns out she was legitimately embarrased and informed me later on that evening that I'm a little "too goofy" sometimes. She went on to clarify that she wasn't trying to change me, it just made me seem "immature". After all, she's dated guys that were goofy before, but never anyone quite as goofy as me, so I might want to turn it down a little bit so I don't make myself look immature. Oh boy, here it comes...

*deep breath*

....Okaaaaaaay...I hear ya...and all I gotta say in response is:

*raspberries*

(I really did give her raspberries...how's that for immaturity?)

Yep, that's it. Right then and there I realized I had changed. In the past, a statement such as that would have cut deep. I would have taken it to heart and beat myself up about it for the rest of the evening and possibly even the rest of the week. I would have made every possible conscious effort to throttle back on my silliness and try to be more "mature". I would have apologized and said "...you're right, I'll work on that". Not this time folks. No siree. My immediate reaction was actually a stifled laughter and a hearty helping of indifference. If she only knew how far down the list that particular incident was on the Jordon Silliness Scale. She's lucky I didn't take off my shirt, tie it around my head and start swinging from the nearest tree branch. I mean honestly, wearing my shirt over my shoulders is too goofy? You aint seen nothin' yet toots.

I did apologize to her, however I didn't apologize for embarrassing her or for acting "immature" but instead I very sarcastically told her that I was sorry I wasn't like her stuck-up friends and former boyfriends and that I wasn't afraid to be myself and have a good time. I rather bluntly told her that if you didn't like the goofy Jordon then say goodbye because that's the one you're going to see most of the time. I've already done the whole change bit and it only ends up making things worse in the long run, so from now on I'm going to be myself and if you don't like it...lump it.

In closing, I'd like to add these very fitting lyrics from the 1980 Popeye movie with Robin Williams...

I yam what I yam and I yam what I yam that I yam
And I got a lotta muscle and I only gots one eye
And I'll never hurt nobodys and I'll never tell a lie
Top to me bottom and me bottom to me top
That's the way it is 'til the day that I drop, what am I?
I yam what I yam.

Couldn't be more fitting...except of course for the part about only having one eye.

olfaction

2008-06-19T08:41:00.000-07:00

Want to know a telltale sign that you need to start eating healthier?

When the smell of a cardboard box makes you hungry for a pizza.

True story.

While on the subject of smells, here's some other odd aromas that I seem to enjoy:

old books

new books

fresh cut grass

new swimming pool floats (vinyl)

exhaust (especially from model airplane fuel)

my Zippo

the faint smell of skunk (I know...I'm a freak...)

this one particular oil paint at work that reminds me of my second grade classroom for some reason...

fish
woodshops

cedar

cooking...(Vague you say? Nope, more like all-inclusive.)

the ocean
fireworks and fresh-struck matches

the call of the domestic

2008-06-05T09:00:00.000-07:00

So there I was, at the mall with a couple friends. As we weaved our way through hordes of prepubescent Abercrombie models we found ourselves standing outside "the exotic pet store". I call it "the exotic pet store" but don't let the name deceive you. It's not like they sell zebras and rare african lizards with names you can't even pronounce, but compared to your average pet store it's definitely a lot more unique. Actually, the owner does have a big custom made cage in the front of the store where he keeps his pet Ringtailed Lemur but unfortunately it's not for sale. I have however seen, hedgehogs, skunks, pot bellied pigs, short tailed opossums, and a fox all for sale at this particular store, not to mention the hodgepodge of new dog breeds they're coming out with like Choweenies, Puggles, and Bullshepamutes. Okay so I made up the last one, but you get the idea. Can you see now why I refer to it as "exotic"?

I'm used to seeing all kinds of crazy dog breeds at this store but this particular day I saw something that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. I was walking past the cages and noticed a rather large gray "puppy" that I could immediately tell was no normal dog. It had the most amazing, piercing blue-gray eyes I've ever seen on an animal. It was technically still a puppy so it goes without saying that is was cute but at the same time it seemed uncharacteristically mature, like he was too cool to be hopping around the cage and licking the glass like his hairy little cohorts. I approached it's cage, read the sign and I was right, it wasn't a normal dog. It was a wolf hybrid; 90% Timber Wolf and 10% German Shepherd...and I wanted it.

I immediately thought of the books "White Fang" and "The Call of the Wild" and imagined how awesome it would be to own a Wolfdog. What could be more macho and masculine than having a wolf as a pet?! I know a couple of people that have those little annoying yappy rat-dogs and I've joked that when I do get my own dog, I'm getting something that EATS things like that. A wolf definitely falls into that category.

Obviously the next move after seeing something you want is seeing how much it's going to cost you. Yeah, that was a bit of a shock: 800 bucks. That's a hard pill to swallow for someone who's had strays as pets his entire life. However, that still seemed a fair price to pay for such an awesome animal. As much as I wanted to whip out my credit card right then and there, I managed to peel myself away from the glass and leave without making any impulsive purchases, but I left with a firm resolution to start my Wolfdog research as soon as I got home.

And that's what I did...then wished I hadn't. The research I did turned up some very fascinating things about them but also made it clear that it probably wasn't the best idea to get one at this particular time. One website actually repremanded people who impulsively purchase one because it's "macho" or "masculine" but aren't ready to take on the responsibility of caring for it properly. Phew, glad I didn't whip out my credit card.

Turns out wolfdogs make wonderful companions but terrible pets. My observation of the little guy at the pet store being "more mature" than the others was right on the money. Wolves and Wolfdogs are around 30% more intelligent than your average dog. Because of that they require special care and attention and can't be treated like a normal dog. Special methods must be used to train them because the whole bribe-them-with-a-treat method doesn't always work. Violence can never be used in training because they remember it and hold grudges. Once you've lost its trust it becomes very difficult to ever regain it.

Since they are used to digging for food outside, Wolfdogs are very destructive when kept in a house all day and are impressive escape artists when kept outside (I read stories of them jumping over 8 foot fences or digging underneath them in order to get out). They also become destructive when left by themselves. Wolves are pack animals and therefore very social creatures, requiring constant companionship to keep them from getting bored. The pack nature of the Wolfdog also adds another challenge to training them: Dominance. A Wolfdog will constantly be challenging its owner for dominance and requires constant and habitual reminding of who the "Alpha Male" in the household is. Because of this, they make terrible watchdogs. Since you are the pack leader, your pet will bark once to let you know something is up but then expects you to deal with it. You should also not expect them to come running to your aid if under attack because they consider you perfectly capable of fending for yourself.

Amidst those negative aspects, all of the websites agreed that if cared for properly, Wolfdogs make extremely loyal companions. They aren't like a silly dog that will be mindlessly loyal to you even if you treat it like crap, but more like a human in that they require attention and effort to maintain the relationship. It was a fascinating bit of research on a remarkable animal and I'm more convinced than ever that I want to get one some day...especially if I don't get married.

having a (paint)ball

2008-06-04T11:08:00.000-07:00

My whole life I’ve fallen into the “athletically challenged” category. Not necessarily for lack of skill but primarily for fear of failure. I never really tried out for sports because I never thought I was good enough, so I settled for being videographer, water distribution engineer or equipment management supervisor. It all worked out for me though. I had all the perks of being on the team (i.e. leaving class early, road trips to out of state tournaments, hanging with my friends, etc…) without all of the negative aspects (i.e. running my butt off every day, injuries, cost of equipment, etc…) so all in all I really had few complaints, except for the "non-athletic" label I was branded with by my friends. Unfortunately, that cloud of athletic failure hung over me all through grade school and well into college, forever banishing me to be the last one picked in any organized athletic activity.

Well for one weekend, the curse was lifted. For once in a long time…no…probably my life, I was picked first for a physically demanding endeavor requiring speed, agility, and coordination. Out of 14 other guys between the ages of 18 and 30-something I was the very first one selected once the captains had been appointed (let me just clarify that this was not because the captain and I were in cahoots or because he owed me a favor). The activity I’m referring to is of course paintball and lemme’ tell ya, it was a hoot and a half! I’m going to try and keep the horn tootage to a minimum but I surprised even myself with my performance. I’ve been paintballing on several occasions but this day was different for some reason. I was fearless. I’m talking jump-on-a-grenade-for-your-comrades fearless, not jump-off-the-garage-on-your-skateboard “fearless”. I’d like to attribute my bravery to the inclement weather conditions and the overwhelming number of action movies I watch but whatever the root cause, I was the navy seal of the paintball world this particular day…and everyone noticed.

The cold/wet/muddy conditions were perfect for sliding, army crawling, and diving behind bunkers, and boy did I take advantage of it. We had already played several games and were all soaked to the bone, covered in mud and loving every minute of it. One game in particular that day stands out as the pinnacle of my paintball career. Here’s a brief summary of how it went down:

An immediate sprint behind enemy lines followed by what the supervising official referred to as “the most awesome slide he’s ever seen during a paintball match” (this deserves a quick explanation: because it was wet and muddy and I had already been sliding everywhere, I ended my sprint into enemy territory with a baseball-style slide behind the nearest bunker to shield myself from the barrage of paintballs whistling over my head. The particular bunker I chose just so happened to have a monster puddle in front and as I slid into it I kicked up a “rooster tail” or a huge wave of water that sprayed up behind me. The referee was thoroughly impressed and made a big to-do about it but aside from the recognition, it was just downright FUN!) I digress…
Forcing a former member of the military to surrender by outmaneuvering him
Sneaking up ninja-style behind the guy guarding the flag and forcing his surrender (that’s two forced surrenders in one game)
Making a reckless mad dash for the flag (while avoiding friendly fire from my own teammates not expecting one of their own to pop up behind enemy lines)
A final sprint to the enemy base including a police chase-style hood slide over a tire bunker
Capturing the enemy flag almost single-handedly and leading my team to victory

I’m just going to end there. This incident has become my single-greatest achievement in the field of athleticism. I don’t know if I’ll ever have such a braggadocious moment so I figured I’d better go ahead and document it…you know, strictly for posterity of course.

concur you're daemons

2008-05-08T07:39:00.000-07:00

I think I'm taking this blogging thing too seriously. I now have about 4 drafts that I have yet to publish simply because they don't feel finished. I'm averaging about a post a month at the moment, even though there are soooo many things I want to write about. I think I'm coming to terms with the fact that I'm a bit of a perfectionist with some things. Those who know me fairly well, know that I have a keen eye for detail but I'm finding there's a fine line between detailed/thorough and obsessive compulsive. It's inner monologue time...

Come on Jordon, it's just a blog! It doesn't have to be perfect! So what if a few words are misspelled? Nobody cares if you use slang. It doesn't have to be gramatically accurate every single time! Your sentence structure and syntax don't always have to be perfect! LET IT GO MAN!!! Lighten up! In fact, this is your assignment for this blog: include several intentional misspellings, a few sentence fragments, some slang, and multiple words used out of context. It's going to bother you but deal with it. Now get going!

Aye think that whent well. I feal like I've come to turms with my ishuse so its all good. I dont feal as deciduous anymore and that's all write bye me. Because I was sew worreid

Ooh, that last fragment was a tough one. You have no idea how bad I want to go back and fix that...

zip it in the bud

2008-04-11T11:38:00.000-07:00

The other day, Jake was given 2 free Zippo lighters for filling out some kind of survey. Being the good friend that he is, he gave me one of them and I haven't been able to stop playing with the blasted thing since. I'm not a smoker and never will be (no way no how) but I almost wish I were, for the sole purpose of having a justifiable reason to be carrying this little doohickey around with me everywhere. I'm a bit of a pyro as it is and have always been mesmerized by a flickering flame, so I think the fact that I have instant access to one whenever I fancy makes this little silver gizmo that much more appealing to me.

I'm somewhat troubled by the immediate negative association that having a lighter carries with it, and yet I still can't help but love it. The telltale metallic clicking sound it makes as it's flipped open and shut is like auditory crack and has quickly bumped bubble wrap from the top of my "fun sounds list". Then there's the brilliant little flash of sparks that causes the fuel-saturated wick to instantly erupt in flames almost every time. And don't even get me started on the smell. Don't ask me how but the burning lighter fuel has a somewhat nostalgic smell to it and is in some odd way...kind of soothing. This little contraption is quickly replacing my cell phone as my favorite "pocket toy" (keep your minds out of the gutter fellas).

Again, I don't like the fact that I've already gotten asked: "Oh, do you smoke?" only to awkwardly reply that I don't, I just like the lighter. I have to come up with a better reason than that for having it with me all the time. Let's see...

Emergency lighting in the event of an extreme power outage...at night, or in a place with no windows...or excessive amounts of wind...
A fire alarm setter-offer/sprinkler system turner-onner (used with much success by quite a few movie heroes to cause a much-needed distraction and get them out of a pickle)
Signal fire (or signal mirror in the event the fuel runs out...which is a legitimate possibility considering how much I've been playing with the thing)
A torch lighter. You know, for all those expeditions that require exploring an ancient cave that just so happens to have a cloth-covered torch waiting by the entrance and a pool of some sort of flammable liquid nearby, but no feasible way of lighting the torch...
A leech remover
A birthday candle lighter
An emergency surgery blade sterilizer

...That's good for starters. Hopefully one of those will do the trick. If not, I'm forced to sit there in complete silence and look at the people around me when someone asks "Does anyone have a lighter?" Even though I will be wanting desperately to whip it out, nonchalantly flip it open with a flick of my thumb, bring the brilliant flame to life with another flick of my thumb, then simultaneously extinguish it and close the lid with a snap of my wrist (a motion I'm becoming quite good at considering how much practice I've had). Even though I would love an opportunity to show off my little toy and the lighting skills I've develeoped, I dare not. No, I'd rather miss a prime opportunity to light something on fire than to risk looking like a smoker...even if I do have an awesome little Zippo "burning a hole in my pocket". *ting*

consider yourself warned

2008-03-17T06:52:00.000-07:00

Things to avoid:

Wearing flip-flops
Wearing flip-flops in a public restroom
Wearing flip-flops in a public restroom while standing at a urinal
Wearing flip-flops in a public restroom while standing at a urinal next to an old man
Wearing flip-flops in a public restroom while standing at a urinal next to an old man with bad aim

........just trust me on this one okay?

stop...go...stop...go...stop...

2008-02-11T04:43:00.000-08:00

I'm well aware of the fact that the study of traffic patterns is essentially a science in itself, but I would love for someone to explain to me how I can be in the "fast lane" of a four lane highway at a dead stop while the the other three lanes drive merrily along posthaste, undoubtedly having a little chuckle at the irony of the "fast lane" concept and how much better off they are not being in it.

I would also love to know why I, having noticed this reoccuring trend for the past two months, continue to drive in this so-called "fast lane" every morning.

"If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem"

-Eldridge Cleaver

.-- .-- .-- / -.. --- - / -- --- .-. ... . -.-. --- -.. . / -.. --- - / ... -.-. .--. .... .. .-.. .-.. .. .--. ... / -.. --- - / -.-. --- --

2008-02-09T20:53:00.000-08:00

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headgear...check

2008-02-08T04:36:00.000-08:00

I filled up my gas tank for $2.79/gallon yesterday. It would seem that the apocalyptic predictions of soaring gas prices have once again been temporarily averted. I guess it's a good thing I didn't invest in that rice-powered car after all.

A car is a mode of transportation that some people, myself included, use to get to work on a daily basis. (that was my segue for the following anecdote...ya know, to make it flow)

Yesterday, at work (*ting*) I was having a conversation with my coworker Rick concerning my future career as a helicopter pilot. He had asked me what the training process entails, so I went on to tell him how you must first get your private pilot's license and then build upon that foundation, adding additional certifications over time. "What kind of additional certification would you need?" he asked.

"Well, there are several. There's your instrument rating, your external load certification, your certification to fly a helicopter with a turbine..."

It was at that point that Rick erupted in uncontrollable laughter. I quickly thought back through what I had just said, trying desperately to figure out what could have been so funny. My stupefied expression must have been asking the question for me, because through his laughter he proceeded to explain.

As it turns out, I had inadvertantly slipped in one of those phenomenal un-planned puns that blends so perfectly into a story, most normal people never even pick up on it; but Ricky was on top of his game that day. He went on to say that when I mentioned you need special training to fly with a turbine, he immediately pictured me sitting in the pilots seat dressed as a Sikh, wondering why I needed special certification to fly with a long piece of cloth wound tightly around my head. Clearly he heard "Turban" instead of "Turbine" and we both got a much-needed laugh out of the little miscommunication.

Awkwardocity

2008-02-07T08:24:00.000-08:00

You know what sucks? When you're waving hello to a friend down the hall and another random person, who you don't really know all that well, springs out from behind a well-hidden doorway and intercepts the friendly gesture, only to look back and realize that it wasn't meant for them. It's just awkward for all parties involved.

Although I must admit, it's considerably less awkward being the waver than the poor bloke stuck in the middle, who more-often-than-not just so happens to be myself, while the waver more-often-than-not just so happens to be an attractive girl with the recipient being either her attractive female friend or her genetically enhanced boyfriend.

On a side note...I can't think of any word that more accurately portays the essence of its meaning than the word "awkward". It looks awkward when you see it, it feels awkward when you type it, and it sounds awkward when you say it. I don't know the etymology behind it, but oh how fitting.

2008-02-04T07:34:00.001-08:00

Four of my close friends have consecutively asked me if I have any recent relationship activity to tell them about...not because they're concerned about my loneliness or emotional well-being but because the bizzarre and farfetched stories I tell are so entertaining.

.....*sigh*.....

Cracking under pressure

2008-02-02T17:09:00.001-08:00

My sister and I went to dinner at Cracker Barrel the other day (...best country fried steak around if you're wondering. Trust me, I'm a connaisseur). There I am at the checkout, waiting to pay. For a second I think to myself that perhaps I should use the calculator on my phone to figure out exactly how much of a tip I should leave to get the total to a nice round number (it's a habitual thing for me at restaurants. Not quite OCD in that it doesn't bother me at all if I don't do it, but it usually gets the server an extra 50 cents or so when I round up, so I figure it's worth the extra effort.) I decide not to use the calculator. I mean, come on, I was on the Dean's list at college. I did great in Algebra, Geometry, and all my math courses, so why the heck would I need to use a calculator for a simple subtraction problem??? I reassure myself one last time that I don't need it and put my phone away as the cashier says, "I can take you over here sir."

I walk up and hand her my bill as we begin the obligatory exchange regarding the quality of my meal and our visit to their establishment...and then it happens. The moment that for some reason, I dread EVERY time I go to a place like this. Bob Evans is the same way. I hate, HATE, HATE writing in the tip while the cashier hovers over me...waiting to see what I write so she can fill it in on the computer and have it show up on my printed receipt. WHY????? Why can't you people just let me turn this in and walk away? Why can't I do it at the table??? Why must you hover?? My hands immediately start getting sweaty as she hands me the pen...

*GULP*

Okay, this one isn't so bad....10% is-.....x2 for the standard 20% tip....okay, now round that up to-....now this plus that is-......okay....I hope she doesn't think I'm stiffing our waitress..... now carry the one...STOP HOVERING LADY!!!!...almost done.....am I taking too long?...add that line and VOILA! Okay, that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be...

I triumphantly hand her the receipt, relieved that my moment under the microscope is over with. As I wait for her to transfer my scribbling into the register, she stops...looks at the total....looks again....then turns to me and says those words I had been dreading since she handed me that friggin pen: "Did you mean to put a 1 instead of a 2?"

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!.......the blood immediately rushes to my face as I try to laugh it off "Oh yeah, I'm sorry! It's been one of those days!" She of course laughs, but I know inside she's thinking I'm one of those high-school drop out, illiterate, dunces who can't read, write, or do simple long addition and subtratction.

No, it's not like that lady! Honest! I'm smart! I just start feeling a little anxiety when you hover like that! I don't do well under intense scrutiny! I get nervous! I'm really rather intelligent and very very literate! I promise! I can show you my grades from my last semester of college! Want me to quote some Shakespeare or Robert Frost??? Please please believe me!!!

It's no use. I walk away.....ashamed.....defeated......trying desperately to avoid the mocking eyes of the people in line around me....

I should have used the stupid calculator

2008-02-01T04:32:00.000-08:00

I can't wait to move to a place where the only use I have for my snow brush is wiping the sand off my feet

...soon.....very soon....

2008-01-31T16:52:00.001-08:00

I wish fish could express gratitude. While cleaning Katsumoto's tank today (Katsumoto is my Crowntail Beta) I realized just how lucky that little guy really is. Most people would have sent their fish down the "porcelain pipeline" if they saw it swimming around the tank on its side, bumping into things and missing its food completely at every attempt. I on the other hand felt sorry for the little fella and immediately started researching the problem. After swapping out his normal little fish nuggets for the special little fish nuggets, purchasing 12 dollars worth of "special fish medicine", and following the pet shop "fish expert's" extremely vague instructions for 2 straight weeks, he finally started to swim upright, avoid the few obstacles in his tank, and actually get those little friggin nuggets into his mouth. All that for a 2 dollar fish...

I'm going to assume that fanning your gills repeatedly means: "Thank you for not flushing me."

You're welcome little buddy

Hi8

2008-01-30T12:07:00.000-08:00

I found my box of old 8mm tapes today (that was the predecessor to mini dv, dvd and hard drive camcorders for you young'ns out there...let me know if you need a picture). As I watched my feeble attempts at documenting my life's memories (none of the big important events of course, just random acts of stupidity), I really wish I would have taken a different approach to filming. I wish I would have been more of a nature documentalist filming a lion in the wild from a few feet away. Quiet, observant, being very careful to capture the footage without interfering in any way. Instead I seemed to be more like a member of the paparazzi, shoving the camcorder in peoples faces and trying in vain to be funny without looking like a complete putz. Had I the time or means to edit myself out of the 10 odd tapes (or my voice at the very least), I would in a heartbeat.

Nonetheless, I found myself laughing quite a bit today. The videos may be incriminating, but I'm just glad the camera was rolling

welcome back boys

2008-01-30T09:15:00.001-08:00

They're back. Finally, after a 14 year hiatus the calluses on the fingertips of my left hand have reappeared...and I couldnt' be more elated. Admittedly it does seem a bit unusual to be excited over something that most normal people would consider an annoyance or a "blemish." Something that should be immediately picked/filed off and treated with incessant applications of hand lotion (preferrably something that doesn't smell like a field of pansies....which could cause people to confuse me with one) until the smooth "normal" skin underneath has resurfaced. To a musician however (or aspiring musician in my case) those patches of hardened skin are something to take pride in. They indicate that I have been persistently mashing my sensitive fingertips against six cold hard steel strings, ignoring the cries of pain and derisive heckling that they've been shouting back at me...

"Why are you doing this to us? Don't you know how much this hurts?!!! Look at the indentations those freaking strings are leaving in us once you let go! This is not normal!! Are you a masochist or something??? Are you hearing us??? Are you hearing yourself?! You SUCK! Why put yourself through this again? It's not worth it! You couldn't do it when you were 10 and you can't do it now! Just stop now and let us heal!"

Sorry fellas. It's gotta be done. I can already hear myself getting better and after a few more weeks you won't even feel the pain. Once I know what I'm doing and you guys are impervious to those vexatious strings, we'll be making beautiful music together...

...I know, that was a lame pun. Get used to it. It's kinda my thing.

2008-01-29T08:35:00.000-08:00

First blog's total word count: 370. If a picture's worth a thousand words, I could have just posted this picture...

...and still had a rather comfortable 630 word cushion. Or if I wanted to more accurately substitute the approximate 370 words of useless babble and forego the cushion...

...but if i was going to do that I would have cropped it better.

What a way to start things off...

2008-01-28T21:10:00.000-08:00

Here it is, my first official blog......DANGGIT!!!.....I did it. I told myself I wasn't going to start my first official blog with a stupid trite cliche that's undoubtedly used by every virgin blogger on their maiden voyage. I was hoping to just dive off the platform into my lane and start breast-stroking with the pros. It would have been nice to start off with something clever and witty so that all you veteran bloggers out there would simply think I'm a seasoned professional that decided to branch off and explore some different venues. Instead I've proved to everyone that I'm a noob and completely inept at coming up with an original way of starting things off. But come on, throw me a bone here, you had to have started off that way too right? Maybe there's a reason it's cliche'. If everyone didn't do it, then it wouldn't be cliche' now would it? Well there you go, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

So this is blogging....my thoughts are pouring from my brain, down my arms, and flowing from my fingers while this clever computer program captures them all to send off into cyberspace in a decorative little package so that other people as bored as myself can possibly get some meager helpings of entertainment out of them? I find that hard to believe...but it's just as well. This is probably somewhat beneficial for me in a therapeutic sense. Putting some of my thoughts down in writing may help to organize the chaotic mess of randomness that is pinballing around inside my head on a daily....hourly...even minutely (yeah I know, deal with it) basis. It certainly couldn't make matters worse.

Enough of the inane drivel. At the risk of ending my first blog in another hackneyed manner, I'm going to just let it trail off. No closing. No epilogue. No "this is Jordon, signing off...." I'm just going to stop. True, it may not have a "finished feel" but that's okay. From what I'm told, blogging is an ongoing dialogue, so it shouldn't feel "finished" after the first one. It should feel like there's more to come...and there is