Clean up in aisle 5

Well it has been over three months since I last posted and I realized I should be flexing my brain so it doesn't atrophy. Due to my recent experiences as a dog walker and kayak instructor I decided to have a light hearted return to the Inter-web. I humbly present: 5 things I love about grocery shopping.

1) Riding the cart back to the car - I realize its childish and ridiculous to watch but I still love getting a little momentum going and cruising through the parking lot. I'm not sure if it takes me back to carefree days as a child or that bombing between cars at 3 miles per hour somehow stimulates my adrenal gland. Either way, it puts a big smile on my face.

2) Watching the total drop after swiping my club card - Just like playing Skee Ball in an old arcade, watching numbers jump around on a screen due to your actions is exciting. After my total is done dropping I always have to fight the urge to seek out a high five from the cashier or seek recognition from the other people in line. So with a smirk and a sideways glance, I magnanimously head towards the exit.

3) Looking for an item at the same time as another person - Are they more of an expert? Do they know which product is better? Are the judging me on my decisions? You will never find a more in-depth person watching event than the purchase decision. You are riddled with questions if they choose another item than the one you do and you feel a connection if they choose the same.

4) Discounts! - Enough said

5) The post-shopping gorge - I realize this isn't exactly "at" the store but it is a result. No matter how many times I buy food I always end up eating twice my body weight once I get it in the fridge. I just take the idea of "If you have it, flaunt it." and apply it to food. Unfortunately flaunting food means an extra inch or two on the waist line.

Not my best post but give me a chance to stretch out my creativity. I'd blame it on the typical excuses; stress, work...something. but I can't say I have any of those issues at the moment. Therefore I should probably write more posts savvy?

Verbally Abusive

I have been inspired to write again. Ironically this inspiration comes from people’s inability to tell a compelling story. I have grown tired of the endless prattle that builds up to an anti-climactic anecdote that has no humor or bearing on my life. It is because of this mind numbing frustration that I wish to lay down some ground rules for story telling.

1) You do not need to explain every aspect of a situation. I don’t need the reason you got a ride from point A to point B if it has no bearing on the rest of the story. Example: “Jim gave me a ride to the mall because my car was in the shop because I blew out a tire because I hit something on the highway while I was going to work.” I do not need to know that if the story is about what happened after you got to the mall. I only have so much room for memory and attention and this just edged out some of my more applicable knowledge.

2) Do not list the names of everyone at a specific event unless it is relevant to the story or if I know them. If something funny happened to Jim while you were with a group of people then my only interest is in Jim, you, and anyone who may have influenced the situation. “So Jim, Dave, Sarah, Jenny, Henry, Allison, and I were all at the table and the waiter spilled soup on Jim.” I don’t care about those other people unless they were spilled on or they tripped the waiter. We are going to spend most of your story describing each person and their relation to you and whether I have met them or not. (FYI: Unless someone makes an impact on me, I will not remember them therefore “Oh he was at that party we went to.” will not suffice to log that person into my memory)

3) Don’t digress from the main topic. Nothing bugs me more than being in the middle of the story and the storyteller says “That’s reminds me…” then focuses their attention on some random thought that has nothing to do with me or the story. Our attention spans have dwindled over the years so we need to be concise and stay on topic in order to properly convey our thoughts and emotions.

4) Keep it short and sweet. Unless you are a master of crafting vivid images and empathy, stay on bullet points. Information, like ingredients in cooking, needs to be measured and dished out to provide the best food for thought. Too much of one thing or not enough of the other will result in a sub-par dining experience.

5) Finally, and this is most crucial, please have a point. Don’t tell a story for stories sake. Have a climax, pearl of wisdom, cunning joke, anything to wrap up the experience. I can’t count how many times someone has carried on with a story long past its high point. I assume a lot of those story tellers just like to be the center of attention but lack the verbal dexterity to do so efficiently. Instead of making your stories long and drawl, refine the stories you have so you can continuously have relevant and interesting things to discuss.

I may be speaking from frustration, annoyance, or just plain self-centeredness but remember, story telling is for the people listening, not your own ego. You need to put yourself in their shoes and realize that they are selfish and want entertainment not purgatory. If you keep these guidelines in mind I think you will find people won’t listen to you for 5 minutes then break eye contact and walk out of the room…

And if them leaving doesn’t stop you from talking, you have a whole other set of issues to deal with.

The morning drive

Driving to work has become a waking dream. I shift between lanes without thinking, anticipating the quickest path as though I were high above the experience. Then it happens. A rogue car decides to upset my careful balance and shift three lanes with no turn signal! No sooner had my rage swelled to a tsunami of curses that I had an epiphany. They weren't being idiotic, they were simply ignoring the social standard.
My fury melted away and was replaced by curiosity. Not a day goes by where we aren't confronted with someone whose senseless lack of social harmony aggravates us and causes us to go into the darkest regions of our emotions. Where does this rage come from though? We get angrier at slow check out line customers than we do at genocides in foreign lands. I believe that it is not their action but their obliviousness that stirs our hatred and loathing. These people do not adhere to the same rules that we do. They are on a different plane where they think the rules to not apply to them. Then again, maybe the rules do not apply.
Descartes once said “I think there for I am”. What if the application of this truth is not as finite as we believe. Perhaps these inconsiderate fools are simply choosing to think they are outside the same social fabric that the rest of us are threads in? They act outside the boundaries we have become imprisoned in. When we see this callous disregard we feel outrage. Anger develops out of fear however so we must ask ourselves what we fear in the actions of these few rebels.
Their actions make us question our own actions. With our own actions in question we are tossed into the unknown ether of self-analysis. The unknown is notorious for in-sighting fear and panic which leads us quickly to frustration and animosity. We direct this animosity at the catalyst and express our selves with creative titling and hand gestures that have been dubbed “obscene”.
So it isn't simply an annoyance that drives us to anger, it is the fear of the unknown. If people can act outside what the majority consider acceptable then how can our precarious social structure survive? With that we are forced to confront chaos and anarchy. The aptly named idiots and morons of our world are a constant reminder that we are just one small step away from total social regression and we respond with our disdain. They make us constantly questions ourselves and our world. I salute them for their continued effort to broaden our thinking and force us to explore or basic emotions.
Wouldn't hurt if they took some driving classes though...

Plummet

I'm going to take my lead from Christine's blog this morning and write about a dream I had last night. Normally I forget my dreams but hours later I am still haunted by some of these images...

I find myself amid a forest of concrete and metal giants. They're vertical hold on the sky so complete that no rays of sunshine reveal the infinite expanse above. I can see shadows moving in the windows of these urban leviathans but the streets are devoid of any sound or flicker. Feeling an expanding loneliness I drift through the transparent portal and find myself in a peaceful yet bustling lobby. No one seems to notice me as I digest the ghost like clamor around me so I make sure to take my time and try to put some kind of rationality to this phantom of my subconscious.
With a record's skip I am suddenly walking up a mass network of ramps and stairs. The walls bleed the same eerie calm I felt in the lobby so I can only assume I have begun to explore. There are people in every direction but they are all moving with me. We are debris in a river whose current is carrying us to an inevitable direction that becomes more frightful with every silent step.
Our pace flutters for a minute as we pass through a gate of shiny steel and glass. I am outside staring at the faces of the buildings that appeared so epic from the ground. Less intimidating now my curiosity is replaced by hesitance. We are miles above the earth, now part of the sky. A dream sought after by imaginations since the dawn of our species yet I feel my feet begin to drag as if with every step forward the concrete was holding me back.
On the top of this man made achievement I find a finely trimmed grass field. The size of a football field it makes the magnitude of the building that much more impressive. My fellow lemmings seems to be dispersing throughout the field, awaiting some display or entertainment. I feel a gentle hand fold itself into mine and we begin to walk forward. I am now with a group of 4. Their faces familiar but unrecognizable. The vision holding my hand wears a smile that is both beautiful and frightening. Her eyes seem to hold a terrible secret that pushes her tears to the brink. Is she my hope or my fear?
We approach the edge of the field and the ground begins to drip down towards the earth as water falls from a cliff. It is at this moment that I feel an icy spectral grip around my heart. Every exhale a frosty chill. My love's hand has abandoned me and with nothing to keep my mind on the ground I close my eyes.
A silent echo tears through my soul, shattering the fragile barrier between calm and panic. I begin to fall. An eternity passes by in a flash of lighting. I am beyond my perceptions, beyond reality, beyond fear or hope. I reach out is desperation to return to my surroundings. To grab something familiar and contain this sensation. To make myself feel small again.
Finally I manage to grab a patch of grass. In an instant that feeling is gone. I open my eyes and I am in my bed. My knuckles are white from grabbing onto my pillow, the only physical evidence of my ordeal. In my heart and mind I can still feel that icy calm that had me so petrified. My worst fear brought to bear on my very essence. I hate Mondays...

Our Soul's Revival

As I begin to write I can hear the echoing words of an elderly gentlemen reciting that old adage "Why back in my day..." aluding to a simpler and more imaginative time. Knowledge had to be learned and digested rather than googled. Music was discussed and analyzed rather than downloaded in bulk. Art, in all its forms, could be held and appreciated rather than clicked on. It is in this simplicity that I believe we have begun to neglect our creative spark.
We have had to sacrifice our desire for expression to the banality of fiscal responsibility. Artists have always battled the ever growing trivial exsistence that the majority of us suffer through day after day. Their passion can be admired or mocked, revered or ridiculed, embraced or discarded. Yet they fight on keeping our imaginations alive. I envy them in their ability to follow their passion and not be bogged down by the incessant commonality that pulls at us like the hands of a needy child.
We must reclaim our spirit and imagination. Step back from the world or actualities and see the endless possibilities that are truly before us. Throw off the bromidic shackles and embrace you're creative thoughts. Express yourself without judgment or recourse. Paint a picture, learn an instrument, take a photograph. All we can do is hope to balance out our logial and creative minds to achieve a sense of balance without losing what makes us individuals.

Temperate Fever

As a transplant to this wonderful slice of heaven the German's named San Diego, I have come to notice a variety of differences between living here and living in the precursor to an Ice Age better known as New England. Many of the differences can be spotted by any observer such as driving ability, concept of time, and awareness of surroundings. Some however, are much more difficult to ascertain ( i.e.Native San Diegan's lean towards the sun when they stand, its true!). The one that has piqued my curiosity was what I originally assumed to be an absence of what we on the east coast call “Spring Fever”.

For those of you unfamiliar with the term, “Spring Fever” is the coupling off of individuals after a long and cold winter. As the sun thaws the snow, love birds seems to come out of the wood work. It never fails that as soon as its warm enough to go outside with only one jacket on, hand holding will be as rampant as the plague in the dark ages!

Since San Diego lacks the winter season, I just assumed that Spring Fever didn't apply. What I have come to realize is that Spring Fever is an epidemic in warmer climates. Pairing off is always in full effect in sunny SoCal and without the winters to give us a break, we are exposed to couples year round. Winter is natures version of a cold shower where we take the time to think and explore our inner selves. Without it we are just a bunch of doped up teenagers cruising the strip looking for fine Betty's. Essentially we are living in a 50's high school movie.

I'm not saying all couples are bad, I know a few tolerable ones in fact, but since we lack the weather to isolate us I believe that many of us also lack the ability to be alone. If you're surrounded by couples all the time then you start thinking about becoming a couple yourself, and that's how they get you!

I am used to hearing about people suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD....weak) so maybe there is a bizarro version that affects us out here on the west coast. I will call it Seasonal Phasic Affliction Control Emulating Yearning Syndrome or SPACEYS for short. Now that you have been classified, we can work on a cure.

There are many differences between the two locations varying largely due to climate but that doesn't mean we can't all get a long. Maybe San Diego will get its cold shower one day I just hope I am not here to experience it. Although I do miss all the SAD people back on my home glacier, I think dealing with the SPACEYS out here is just a little bit easier...

The Emperor's Outdated Clothes

I find myself perplexed. It could be the complicated case House is trying to solve. Perhaps the half bottle of wine I just consumed, who knows? Regardless.
What differentiates someone who doesn't know how to present themselves, someone who does, and someone who doesn't care? Interestingly "doesn't" seems to be incorrectly spelled, thank you red underlining program. You humiliate me once again.

Since I started working in what most have come to call the Real World I have been told that I have to present a certain image. Tie, collared shirt, nice pants, shoes...ugh. I realize when I don these garments I emanate a certain classy Alpha status but does that represent who I am? Ask around, not true.

For some reason we seem hung up on looks. Shocking I know but please, sit back down. I have more to say. For some reason this style seems to placate our general uneasiness when meeting a new person. A tie, an upside down noose, displays authority and responsibility? I think I have it figured out! The more time you spend making sure you look presentable means you spend more time being responsible. . .

Wait, that can't be right. It really means you are more concerned with appearances than you are with achievements. That's right, I'm calling you out! Spend more time thinking and less dressing!
My point, which no one could figure out because I just realized it myself, is that we reward selling out over being independent. Conform to the standard and be loved, reject it and be treated with disdain. Why should we reward individuality in the business world? The true success comes from getting in line not coloring outside the lines. It all makes sense now, everybody can relax.

"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society." Vanity, thy name is culture.
Truth is, I really just love my flip flops...