The following story, contained within the extended entry portion of this post, was written in 2002 but deserves to be remembered.
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Geek Life
Jell-O Shots
My apologies.
Have you ever gone about your entire day, doing all the normal things you normally do on a normal day, with the strange feeling that something was wrong? The feeling of general unease that leads you to check your pockets half a dozen times before you leave the house to make sure you won’t forget your wallet and keys? And then, just as the door closes behind you, you check once again, just in case you were mistaken the first six times?
And then realize you forgot your pants?
Well, all day I’ve been wandering the house in a sort of daze. Going from task to task in a fog trying to remember what it was that I was forgetting. I knew it was something important but for the life of me I couldn’t remember what it was.
Until, that is, 5 minutes ago while I was eating my Jell-O.
You see, I was sitting at the table, spooning superwonderously taste-tastic Jell-O into my mouth when something funny occurred on the TV and, while attempting to laugh and swallow the Jell-O at the same time, I accidentally choked and blew a chunk of Guava-Passion flavored Jell-O out of my nose and onto the table.
For those who keep score, my distance was a paltry 2 and a half feet.
As I sat there at the table, simultaneously laughing, coughing and thanking all manner of beings in the cosmos that HoBiscuit had fallen asleep on the couch and so had missed my latest failed attempt to make her a widow, I couldn’t help thinking what a great story my personal Jell-O Shot would make on my Blog. And that’s when I remembered what I had forgotten to do today and tried to simultaneously gasp in surprise, stand up and swallow the rest of the Jell-O in my mouth. And… so, now you know why the title of this post is Jell-O Shots.
Ow. I need a tissue.
The Valiant Valet
“And what are we doing today?”
This was asked by our valet as he held the car door open so HoBiscuit could get in to our rental car outside of our Hawaiian hotel. It was a polite question, said in a jovial and cordial tone, most likely to help us feel as if he truly cared in the hopes of us gifting him with a larger tip. He knew, and most guests knew, that his words were nothing but a thin, nearly transparent film of polite animosity, behind which he barely concealed his empty-eyed stare, bored stance and fake smile. But still, like the spawning salmon fighting its way upstream knowing that the end of its journey also meant the end of its very life, our intrepid valet continued to inquire the hotel guests about their health, daily activities and other small-talk niceties just to help pass the time during his terminally boring day.
All of this is just to say that what follows was not his fault.
You see, HoBiscuit and I were on our way to a grand adventure the type of which HoBiscuit had never partaken in before. There would be kayaking down rivers, tractor pulls through forests and farmland, rope bridges, zip-lines, waterfalls, cliff dives, hikes, swims, motor boating and all manner of other good, outdoorsy-type stuff that she had never even imagined she might do on a vacation getaway, let alone during a single seven-hour tour.
By which I mean to say that HoBiscuit was excited.
Some people, when they’re excited, show their excitement by becoming jittery and begin hopping from foot to foot. Some people smile and sweat until they resemble nothing so much as a frog with teeth and an upset stomach. Some people even develop a nervous little laugh when they are excited, sounding to the world like a hyena with the hiccups. But HoBiscuit had none of these afflictions. Instead, as with many, many other people on this earth, when she is excited and nervous, HoBiscuit becomes chatty. And loud.
And our poor valet had unknowingly opened the floodgates.
“We’re going on an adventure tour! It’s going to be sooooo great! We’re going to kayak down the river and then hike to a secluded waterfall where we’ll swing on a rope and jump in the river! Then we’re going to hike some more to a tractor that’s going to take us to another river where we’ll zip-line across and then cross back over on a swinging rope bridge! I think that’s crazy, especially since I’m scared of heights, but how many times do you get to zip-line across a river and cross a rope bridge?! I mean, I guess I’ll be scared, but I think I’ll do it anyway because it might be fun, too. You know? Oh! And then we’re going to hike to ANOTHER waterfall where…”
And on, and on, and on.
The entire paragraph above was transmitted to our valet in the span of time it took for HoBiscuit to take the three steps from the back of the car to the passenger side door he was holding open for her. Try to imagine the look on our poor valet’s face as he was bombarded with far more information than he ever in his short (and growing shorter by the second) life would have ever wanted to know about one of the hotel’s guests. Especially one whose husband was a little stingy with the tips which he depended upon in order to purchase wax for his surfboard. He had only expected a short, “We’re going to the beach.” Or possibly, “We’re going to go shopping.”
If it were a good day he’d get $10 and, “None of your damn business.”
He never expected to be given a step-by-step dissertation on a guest’s entire day’s activities at a volume level WAY past eleven. Many other valets, faced with such a chatty guest, would have become flustered. They might have let slip their professional facade of distant politeness and actually warmed to the person who seemed to so desperately need a friend to talk to like our hapless HoBiscuit.
But not our valet.
He was a consummate professional and, mustering all his years of experience in the valet profession, he managed to hold his vacant smile until HoBiscuit had situated herself inside the vehicle and then, as she continued to bombard him with ever more detailed descriptions of our planned days outing, he spoke over her in a continuous monotone that stopped her excited tirade in mid-sentence.
“Uh-huhthat’sniceokaybuh-bye.”
And then he closed the door in her face.
Obligatory “I’m Back” Post
So, I went to Hawaii for two weeks.
Why, you ask? Well, three weeks ago I had had enough of the workload I’ve been carrying since November and HoBiscuit was burning out at her job so we simply left. You heard me, we up and went away. After working nonstop for over three months straight, meaning no weekends, days off or anything else that might have allowed me to rest and recuperate, I knew that if I didn’t get away for a bit I would be going away for a long, LONG time. In a nice 10×10 foot padded cell. With a stylish white dinner jacket that tied in the back and an attendant whose only job would be to wipe the drool from my chin and help me swallow my happy pills.
Hmmm. Actually, come to think on it that doesn’t sound too bad…
Anywaste, getting away was probably the best thing we could have ever done. Kind of like our much delayed honeymoon. We feel much better than we have in a long time; we look tan and well rested and are even happy to be back home and working again. Hey, and even though I haven’t written here in a while don’t think for a moment that I don’t have stuff to say anymore.
Cause that would be just soooooo wrong.
So many fun and kooky things happened during this trip that I can’t even begin to write about all of them right now. All I can do is let you know that tomorrow I’ll start writing about what happened to us in Hawaii while today I’ll gather my thoughts and plan how to best illustrate in words some of the absolutely gut-wrenchingly funny stuff that happened to us while we were there.
We’re talking comedy gold here people.
So, in the meantime, for those of you who have stuck around waiting for me to return ever since my abrupt disappearance over two months ago all I can say is, you really, really need to get a life. Seriously. Or at least get up from the computer, warn the family that you’re coming out so they can clear the hallways and hide the pets, and take a shower.
Because dude, you are STANKY!
Poor In Reign
I was like a god, once.
Long ago and far away, in a place known as ‘Jr. High School’, I was something of a living legend. I walked the halls with an easy smile on my face and a swagger in my step that proclaimed for all who saw me that I was a somebody. I wasn’t just another student, your average bookworm with his fair share of charm and good looks. No, I was so much more than that.
I was my school’s GUY.
You know, THAT guy. The one everyone in school knew, even if just by sight. Every school has a That Guy, and in my school I was he. I was the guy all the other kids wanted to know, the dude they would clear a spot for at even the most crowded of lunch tables, the one they picked first in gym class. I was the student all the female teachers just knew would be a heartbreaker, the troublemaker the principal would always let off with a warning and a smile, the dude the other boys wanted to be.
And the boy all the cute girls whispered about in study hall.
Past ‘nice’, beyond the border of ‘cool’ and forging ahead into the realm of ‘popular’, I moved through the hallowed halls of my school like a king amongst his subjects. I was the one who everyone said hi to, whether they really knew me or not, simply to be able to brag to their friends after school that they ‘knew’ me. Like a medieval Lord touring his countryside domain, the denizens of the school would stop their daily activities as I wandered past to smile at me, touch my hands or bask in my glory in the hopes I would acknowledge their pitiful existence and thus give meaning to their otherwise horrid and worthless lives.
And with but a nod and a smile, I would make their life complete.
Walking those halls, my fellow students would part to let me pass through the crowds as if I were Moses and they the Red…
“Oooff!”
“Hey, watch where you’re going tard-breath! If you weren’t so busy staring off into space with that dumb smile on your face you wouldn’t have bumped into me like the dumbass that you are and dropped all your stupid books.”
“mumble…”
“What did you say?”
“Sorry.”
“You bet your skinny little ass you’re sorry, skidmark. Hey, what’ve you got there, nerd?”
“mumble, mumble…”
“Holy crap, I don’t believe it! Of all the new dorks here today, you must be the biggest! Hey everybody, look at the new kid! He’s got a dorky Dungeon Master’s Guide! Haha! I bet he even carries his dice in a gay felt sack tied closed with a string, the gay farthead!”
*sniffle*
“Awww, look everyone, the little D&D nerd’s going to cry! Cry dweeb-face, cry! Run home to your momma and cry! Hahahahaha!”
Sigh. I was like a god, once…
I Feel Like Suicide
OK, so how many of you thought I was dead?
Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not dead yet. In fact, I’m alive and kicking despite the best laid plans of my clients and their nigh impossible demands upon my mind, body and soul. My physical health may be in tatters, my mental stability may be fraying at the edges and my emotional well being may be spiraling down the crapper of personal self hatred, but I want all of you to know that YOU were first and foremost in my mind during the last month and all I’ve thought about was getting back to you so I could brighten your day with my daily writings about my pathetic life.
So, let me catch you up on my life… using convenient bullet list format!
- Not counting NY, I have visited four cities so far this year for work. All four are now under quarantine or have been declared national disaster areas by the US Department of Anti-Geekiness.
- A close friend had a baby boy on January 7th. Congratulations V & A!
- After living in our apartment for 6 whole months, HoBiscuit and I can finally unpack our belongings this weekend. Just in time for the SuperBowl.
- Despite Mother Nature’s greatest attempts to the contrary, I survived the Great Winter Snowstorm of 2005 without once succumbing to the urge to kill, skin and devour my neighbors children to stave off starvation. However, little Timmy’s dog Kiki will be sorely missed.
- I caught the flu not once, but twice in three weeks. Currently, my white blood cells are on strike until I find a way to pay them all the overtime they accrued as I lay praying for death in various hotel rooms across the country. And hey, if you were sick this month and aren’t sure how you caught your cold, feel free to blame me for your agony. HoBiscuit sure does.
So, now you know how crappy my month has been. How was yours?
Happy New Year To You
And happy trails to me.
As is usual for me this time of year I am going to be doing a lot of traveling for work. So, over the next few months updates here will be a little sparse as I flitter hither and yon to grant graphics wishes to my unrelentingly demanding clients all over the world. To show their gratitude for my services, at the end of each project my clients are always happy to use their final wish to wish me free of the iron yoke of my lamp so that I may once again return home to my sweet and loving HoBiscuit. Who will promptly whore me out to another client so I can make her more money so she can buy more shoes.
Ah, marital bliss. Shoot me now.
To make this particular excursion even more excruciating, I happen to be leaving on January 2nd, which just happens to be our one year wedding anniversary. Oh, did I forget to mention that I’ll be headed to sunny San Diego for a week? And that I’ll also be going to San Francisco and New Orleans all in the next three weeks? And HoBiscuit won’t? She’ll be stuck here in New York, unpacking all of our belongings into our new closets, which are being conveniently installed during my absence. And for those of you who may have lost track of certain facts during the last year, let me remind you that HoBiscuit and I have still not gone on a honeymoon!
Oh yeah, I’m a dead man.
Anywaste, since I’m going to be fairly hectic with work and/or funeral arrangements for myself over the next month or so, I hope you’ll be a tad forgiving should updates here at The Mighty Geek become a bit sporadic. I’ll do my best to post whenever I can, but I make no promises. In the meantime, I wish all of you a happy new year and please try not to make New Years Resolutions because we all know you’ll never keep them. Unless of course, your resolution is to visit this site more often and shower me with love.
That one I’d make you keep.
Finding Zero
I’m back and I’m pissed.
No, I’m not pissed about my trip to see MotherBiscuit and FatherBiscuit in Phoenix. That was absolutely wonderful except for one little thing that I find a tad… disquieting.
Let me explain in a hypothetical way:
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Too Much Of A Good Thing?
Even when I win, I lose.
Apparently, HoBiscuit’s sister was so happy with our visit to her humble abode that she spread the word to MotherBiscuit, who in turn has extended an invitation for HoBiscuit and me to visit her new home in Phoenix, Arizona. And by ‘extended an invitation’ I mean insisted that we fly out there ASAP and visit or there will be hell to pay in the form of guilt, guilt and more guilt. And HoBiscuit, bless her heart, just can’t handle Momma-guilt like I can.
Makes her break out in hives, you understand.
So, long story short, I’m getting on a plane tomorrow morning at 6am to go for another in-law visit. Bad news is that HoBiscuit and I are already being yelled at for spending too much money on little things like plane tickets and car rentals. Most likely, this spendthrift chastisement won’t end once they realize that we’re planning on driving them to Las Vegas for a night where we’ll stay at THE hotel at Mandalay Bay, see ‘O’ which is a Cirque Du Soleil show and then gamble, GAMBLE, GAMBLE!
Good news is they think I’m a wonderful son-in-law.
Now, I love to gamble. Not stupidly, though. I hate it when people don’t have limits and do stupid things like go to the cash machine after losing a month’s paycheck at the roulette table. Any way you slice it, people who do that need an intervention. You see, what I do is go to the table with a set limit and if I lose it then I consider that money to have been spent on ‘entertainment’ and that’s it. I never go back to the ATM for more money because if I did I’d lose my place at the table. That would be dumb.
Instead, I give my card to HoBiscuit and make her go.
Anywaste, I know you’re all thrilled sad that I’ll be gone for yet another week, but cheer up. I’ll be back on Tuesday the 7th of December with what I can only assume will be fun stories for you to read about my hellish travels to the city of sin with my church-going, god-fearing, bible-study-grouping in-laws who, with their constant barrage of guilt-laden jibs, unhappy frowns at the money we’re spending on them and their forlorn looks of parental disapproval, will no doubt cause HoBiscuit to turn into a neurotic psychopath who will in turn make my life a living hell.
Ah, good times. Good times.
Thankful? For This?!
I need a vacation.
My Thanksgiving holiday was absolutely fabulous… except for the whole driving 660 miles to Ann Arbor in the rain on the very day that everyone else in the whole world was going there! Don’t get me wrong, spending time with my brother- and sister-in-law and their three kids is a whole lot of fun, especially because the two boys seem to really enjoy it when I beat the crap out of them, but the whole driving thing? Well, let’s just say I wish I owned a real Halo Warthog, complete with machinegun turret, for the drive.
Or maybe the Scorpion Tank…
Anywaste, after 11.5 hours of driving, we finally made it to their lovely abode where HoBiscuit finally woke up enough to get out of the car to go to bed and I got to relieve my bladder. The next day was spent indoors as the entire family helped prepare the Thanksgiving dinner, in-between challenging each other to Halo Deathmatches. Immediately after dinner my brother-in-law, henceforth to be known as PrairieDog, sequestered me to the back room of the house so we could “formulate a plan of attack” for Operation Black Friday.
Seriously. He has camouflage face paint and everything.
After searching online for specials and flipping through all the newspaper ads for the best deals, we had our target. Beast Bye, the blue and yellow mega-superstore. We knew our target would open its doors at 6am and so, with the knowledge and foresight of a seasoned Black Friday veteran, PrairieDog laid out our gear, set the alarm clocks for 0500, and ordered me to bed.
Not his, thankfully.
I thought he had been kidding when he said that other people were even more fanatical about this shopping day than he was. I might have even laughed as he instructed me on how to properly wear my elbow and kneepads to safely deflect old ladies and small children away from the display containing the last spindle of 100 DVD-R’s for $20. I mean seriously, this wasn’t a football game. No one was tailgating in the parking lot, offering up chilidogs and hot cocoa for all the rabid BF fans. I remember laughing to myself, right before I fell asleep, as I wondered how anyone in their right mind could ever justify waiting for hours and hours on line, outside in the frigid Ann Arbor morning air, just to get inside a store and buy something for a couple of bucks cheaper than it normally sold for.
Well, let me tell you that at 6:00am I was no longer laughing.
When we arrived at Beast Bye at 5:55am the line was already all the way down block and around the corner. As we walked to the back of the line we counted the people and I believe that at last count we concluded that every living soul in Michigan, Ohio, Indiana and possibly Pennsylvania was there. Ahead of us. As we waited to enter the store, employees in blue shirts would intermittently walk the line to inform us of all the wonderful items they had for sale that were no longer available because the greedy bums ahead of us had already bought them all. Each time this happened more and more people would leave the line with their cell phones to their ears, shouting instructions to other family members waiting in line at other stores, and dash to their cars to go wait in another line for another store for yet another sale.
It would’ve been funny if I weren’t freezing my butt off.
When we finally got into the store I was in for a shock. The aisles were all blocked by displays! You could only move through the store by following everyone else down one aisle and up the next. No free range of movement, no browsing the aisles for what you wanted and then quickly getting on the checkout line, no actual shopping. Instead, we had to shuffle down each aisle with the rest of humanity and hope and pray that there would still be something left for us when we reached the displays that carried what we wanted. News travels fast in an environment like that and at 7:15am, when the word came down the line that there were only 18 of the $189 17” LCD monitors left, we knew we were in trouble. Caught up in the moment, I did what I had sworn only moments earlier that I would never do, and called my mother back home in NY.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Are you at Staples’ big sale?”
“You know I am. Why, you need something?”
“Yeah. Do they have anymore of those $199 17” LCD’s left?”
“I think so.”
“Great. Uh… do you think you can get me one…”
[frantic waving and puppy dog eyes from PrairieDog]
“Ehrm… make that two?”
“Hold on, let me ask this nice salesboy…”
“…”
“He says that I already have two so he can’t give me four. But, my friend is here with me and she’s only buying one so she could get another one for you. But we can’t get two.”
“That’s alright Mom, just get me the one. Maybe we’ll get lucky here and get one of the last screens for PrairieDog.”
“OK. Bye.”
“Bye.”
[Beast Bye Blue Shirt hands the last LCD to girl directly in front of PrairieDog]
“That’s the last LCD people! If you wanted one, I’m sorry to tell you that we’re all out!”
[PrairieDog glares at girl and contemplates grand theft and/or murder]
“Easy PrairieDog! No need to kill her yourself, I think the other 5,000 people behind us will do it for you.”
“Girl, you better hope I don’t see you in the parking lot! You’re lucky he’s holding me back! That’s my screen, mine! I’ll swallow your soul, you little witch! Glargh!”
“Best. Thanksgiving. Ever.” /sarcasm
We didn’t get out of that madhouse until 9:30am and all we had to show for our 3.5 hours of hell were two DVDs, one CD, a spindle of DVD-R’s and a memory stick. We saved $40. Whoopie. Good thing we brought PrairieDog’s big truck or we might never have been able to carry all of our loot home. Once we did get home though, everyone piled into the car and we went to another mall to do more shopping. By the time we left for home at 9pm I was ready to run amok with a chainsaw if I had to walk into another store selling last years fashions or outdated electronics at 40%-60% off ‘regular’ store prices. But with all my whining and complaining about the crowds, falsely reduced prices and fake sales, I somehow still managed to buy a few things for myself. And for those who care, yes I did buy myself some new boxer-brief underwear.
And yeah, the boys are happy.
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