Friday, October 27, 2006

Una Vez

24 Posts under my belt and I've somehow managed to not write about Erik, or one of his stories. This is a bit mind boggling considering the number of situations that he manages to get himself into.

Since some readers don't know Erik, I figure a proper introduction is in order. We met in 8th grade, but didn't really become friends until junior year in High School. He actually dated a girl I had a crush on, so I didn't have a lot of love for him at first, but we ended up in a programming class together, and the rest is history I guess. We bonded over BASIC programming, love of classic Nintendo, and our mutual failings with members of the opposite sex. The difference with Erik and I is that the ladies love him and he still can't score, but that's a story for another time. Erik's one of the funniest guys I know, but he's even dryer in his delivery than I am, and I think that's often times lost on people. He's a bit quirky too, and I think people don't expect that.

But enough about my man-crush on my best friend. I thought I'd introduce Erik with a classic story that I was reminded of recently.

When we were younger Erik had a job doing banquet set up at the Ritz Carlton. It was a good job for him, and I think he enjoyed it. On one particular night Erik was mopping the floors and he had one of those signs that read, "Be careful, wet floor." Being that we live in Arizona, it also said it in Spanish, "Cuidado Piso Mojado".

One odd trait that Erik and I have in common is that we both like to use Spanish even though neither of us has more than 2 years worth of High School Spanish knowledge. To this day we have numerous things that we say in Spanish for no real reason.

Well, as Erik mopped the floors he told his coworkers, "Cuidado Piso Mojado!" He happily continued to mop and tell everyone who passed by, "Cuidado Piso Mojado". Many of Erik's coworkers were Mexican, and many of them spoke Spanish only. Eventually, one guy who did speak English pulled him aside and let him know that while what he was saying was technically correct, with his white boy accent it was dangerously close to, "Cuidado Pinche Mojado" which roughly translates to "Be careful wetback".

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Top 5: Things that rock about the upcoming month

Unfortunately it's been a somewhat slow week for me. With a boring week comes a boring blog entry. Sure I had a night where I hit on a lesbian, hung out with a Cardinals cheerleader, and saw two people making out who really had no business making out, but that night sort of had that "Been there done that" kind of feel, so I think it's time to mix it up a little.

This is the first and most likely last entry in a series we'll call "Top 5". Today's topic, the upcoming month, and why it rocks.

1. Thanksgiving -
I don't like turkey. I don't like cranberry sauce. In fact, 9 out of 10 traditional Thanksgiving day foods I'm not a huge fan of. The exception of course being stuffing. I'm sure someone will correct me here if I'm wrong, but I believe that Stuffing comes from the Navajo word Stuffay meaning quite literally "Fruit of the gods".

So what is it (aside from the stuffing) that rocks about Turkey day? It's a few things:

First, it's tradition. I'm not a huge fan of tradition either, but when it comes to the holidays, the family gets together, and we all bring our A game. Jokes are flying. People are laughing. Tales are told.

Second, it's a four day weekend to relax and have fun.

Third, I've had a date of one sort or another for the last eight Thanksgivings. Sure the first six were Stacey, and the last was Angela who was there because her girlfriend is scary, not to see me, but that doesn't matter. Of course the prospects for a date this year are looking mighty slim, but I haven't given up hope.

If you're a single, female blog reader between the ages of 21 and 40, and in to short nerds, feel free to send in an application to join the family T-day.

2. Cooler Weather -
I hate talking about the weather. I hate caring about the weather, but ever since I got a bad ass convertible, the two months a year where it's cool enough to ride around during the day with the top down are the best. There's just something relaxing about it.

3. Halloween -
There's only one thing that rocks about Halloween, and that's the costumes. No, I'm not talking about some dude dressed up in a really funny costume, or somebody who just nailed that Superman look, I'm talking about the females. Sometime between age 15 and now I missed the memo, and it became acceptable for a girl to dress as anything on Halloween as long as it was slutty. Slutty Devil, Slutty Police Officer, Slutty Nurse, Slutty Ballerina, Slutty Princess? Yeah, I've seen them all.

Girls seem to enjoy dressing revealing and sexy, and guys obviously like it, so why does it only happen one day a year? Is it that we as a society need an excuse, or is it that if we did what we wanted all of the time it would become less exciting?

4. New Nintendo and new Zelda -
Unless you're a first time reader, you already know I'm a huge dork, so let's skip the formalities on this one and just say that I will spend half the month of November skipping through the house with a cardboard tube in my left hand pretending it's a sword and humming the theme to Legend of Zelda. Sure it makes me lame, but despite what I said in #1, it's tradition.

5. Steve Nash -
For all the crushes I've written about in my blog, none come close to my man-crush on Steve Nash. I loved the guy's spunk when we had him as a rookie 10 years ago, but since he's come back to the Suns, the little Canadian kid who could has dominated the NBA through sheer will. He's short, not that fast, not that athletic, and he seems to follow my hair style choices. He hooked up with both a Spice Girl, and Elizabeth Hurley. Basically, he's my hero, and in a couple of weeks he returns to action to own the NBA yet again. I couldn't possibly be more excited.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Nerd Word(s): Keep Faith Alive

Keep Faith Alive
- statement

1. A sarcastic statement to someone who's feeling down on themselves.

2. Goodbye

3. A serious statement for someone who's had an unfortunate occurrence

[Origin: A saying I've used for a very long time, that got even more use once digital communication(IM, Email) became the norm. Originally stolen from Will Smith on Fresh Prince of Bel Air]

- synonyms
1. Keep Faith Alive... you are somebody, You are somebody

- usage
1. "I'm never going to find a girl, I'm such a loser"
"Keep faith alive, you are somebody"

2. "Later dude"
"Keep faith alive"

3. "Wow, your dog got hit by a car? That really sucks. Keep faith alive though"

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Introducing the cast of Sesquipedalis

I've gone ahead and updated this old post to add some more people that had been left out. I've found it quite interesting that many people who are prominent figures in my life don't get blogged about. I guess that no drama = no entry, and while that may seem odd, the best days usually don't make for a good story.

My blogging mentor Mandi left a comment about my naming conventions and that reminded me that I probably need to explain who everyone in my stories is. For the longest time I've had a habit of giving people nicknames, and if there's one thing I can do, it's make a nickname that sticks. So without further ado, lets talk about who we've been talking about...

Miranda - Alias: Mory, Murray
My younger sister. If you've never met Mory, just imagine me with blond hair and boobs and you get the idea. While I got the smarts in the family, she got looks and social ability. She's the "fun" one in the family.

Josh - Alias: Joshua
My older brother. Looks wise, my complete opposite. He's big, burly, strong, manly. He's the take charge kind of guy who's going to get things done.

Josh's fiancé. Also possibly in love with me, but that's a blog for another time. Note the double n.

Mom - Alias: Mother, Liz, Dizzy Lizzy
You guessed it, my mother. She'll tell you her slight craziness is due to her recent brain surgery, but don't believe it. She was always a little zany.

Dad - Alias: Big Guy, Mike
My dad's a decent guy. If you ever need to get anything done, and can't figure it out, he's got 3 different approaches to offer, and an excel spreadsheet to help you stay on schedule. He's an engineering manager though, so I can't think too highly of him.

Stacey - Alias: Pimpin, The Ace of Stace, Spanky, etc...
Note the e in her name. My ex-girlfriend, and possibly the motivation behind the blog. We knew each other for about 8 years, and dated for the last 6 of those 8. Broke up about 2 years ago when the bit... sorry, I promised my therapist I'd only write happy things...
It was actually a fairly civil break up.

Ana - Alias: Chica, The Chilean Princess, Mi Amor
Note the one n. A girl I met in school. If there was a "Miss Computer Sci" pageant, this girl would win it, and they'd close the pageant for the next 60 years because there'd be no need to continue. A girl I've chased for 2 years now, and will probably continue to chase and never catch for the rest of my life.

Angela - Alias: The Lesbian, Turbo Spaz 5000, TS5k
My mom's idea of a good set up.

Stacy - Alias: Smitchel
Note the lack of the e. Office mate of my mom's who has since become a good friend of mine and my sister's. Not many stories involving her yet, but we'll get there.

Stacy's boyfriend. We'll get to him soon too.

Geremy - Alias: Todd
A friend of my sister's who is teaching me how to treat a lady with class.

Amy - Alias: Harold
My hiking buddy.

Ruth - Alias: Ruthie, Little Ruthie, Little RuRu, E, The girl who put the Ru in RuRa
One of my two neighbors, and the leading cause of my impending mental breakdown. Individually, each is a force of nature that no sane man could possibly handle. Together, they're actually worse. To take a word from Kendall: Quite possibly the two most charming girls on the planet.

Rachel - Alias: Goob, Ray, L, The girl who put the Ra in RuRa
The crazier of the two if that's even possible. Rachel's got a potty mouth, and the attitude to match. If you're having trouble figuring out which is which, Rachel is the one that just called you a bitch.

A friend of Ruth and Rachel's who has caught my attention with her knowlege in the ways of the nerd, quick wit, and astute sense of humor.

A friend of Kendall's who I'm sure we'll get to soon

Erik - Alias: OG, OG Big E, Huge E, E Money
My best friend and rival in the "Worlds worst with women" competition. It should be noted that as of late he's been doing a better job with the ladies, which puts me in the lead.

Crap, another A name... My doorman/valet and a total pimp with the ladies. A reader of my blog who fills me in on the goings on of the building.

Rose - Alias: RoRo, Rosie, Ro
Somehow Rose has escaped starring in a story as of yet, and that's quite a surprise as I look back. Maybe it's because she packed up her crap and moved to PA with no regard for my feelings and subconsciously I want to get back at her...

Actually Rose is one of my oldest and dearest friends. We have our ups and downs, but that's mostly because we think and act just alike. She's a pain in my ass, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Adam - Alias: O, The Odgeman, AO
Despite the fact that he's the one who introduced me to both Stacey and Rose, he's still one of my best friends in the world. I say "in the world" because he recently packed his bags and ran off to Germany. You'll never meet a man with a more odd yet perfect sense of humor and timing, or a deeper knowledge of the Suns.

Sean N - Alias: Needs
A more recent work friend who shares both my ability to procrastinate, and desire to make fun of others. Also the non commissioned illustrator for both my office art, and this blog

Sean L - Alias: Liang, Lang-a-tang, Baller, Pimp, Pimpin baller pimpin baller...
The third member of the Slacker Trio at work, and unfortunately for him most often the butt of the jokes. You'll never meet a whiter man who listens to 50 cent.

Mikele - Alias: Kelly, The one and only Mikele
A long time friend and avid blog reader/writer. Possibly one of the first ever recorded pretend girlfriends, but that was a long time ago.

Sarah - Alias: Snacky, my "Married Girlfriend"
Someone I've known for well over half my life, and possibly the second girl I ever had a crush on. We'll get to her eventually I'm sure.

An old friend from High School and exceptional artist. Another person that while I haven't mentioned much, is often around.

J.R. - Alias: B, Baller, Hurley, Hurley McBaller
A friend of Sean N's who I've gotten to know. A forefather in ballerdom, and the inspiration for He was also a star in the upcoming movie, "The Kingdom". You'll have to check his blog for more on that though.

I've left a lot of people out on purpose, but I wanted to cover the people that have appeared on the blog. I'll try to keep this updated as we go.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Jesse climbs high...

This Saturday I went hiking with Geremy and a girl I had never met(I don't think) named Amy. With an Adam, an Ana, an Anna, two Angela's, and an Angela clone in my life the blogger's commission has informed me that my quota of A names is used up and therefore, for the duration of this blog Amy will be known as Harold.

Harold's a cute girl, all dressed up in pink, with those big sun glasses that make a girl look slightly like a fly that are so popular right now. Flys freak me out, so I'm not so in to the style, but I also wear a white T-shirt and jeans 6 days a week, so I don't expect to see Jesse's Views on Fashion on E! any time soon.

So Todd, Harold and I met at Squaw Peak and spent a good two hours hiking, resting, and joking around. I was surprisingly not too much of a spaz for having just met a cute girl. I have a few theories as to why this might be:

1a) The big sunglasses. The big sunglasses theory is centered around eye contact. With big sunglasses I can't not make eye contact... I can't see her eyes. This theory requires more testing and therefore I plan on keeping two pairs of sunglasses with me at all times in the future. Any time I need to speak with a girl I'll politely ask that she put the glasses on first.
"What can I get you sir" a cute waitress will ask.
"Could you put these on please?" I'll ask while staring at her feet, then boldly and confidently state, "Diet Coke, please"

1b) The butt. The butt theory flows from the sunglasses theory. As the three of us climbed the mountain, Geremy was first, followed by Harold, followed by me. While Geremy got a view of the mountain as we climbed, I got a view of Harold's ass. When you spend 2 hours staring at someones ass, eye contact is no issue. To further test this theory I will stare at every girl that I meet's butt as much as possible. It's a hard task, but I feel it's my duty to get to the bottom of this.

2) The pink hoodie. 20 minutes into the hike, I ended up being the designated holder of Harold's pink hoodie. This theory states that any man wearing a pink Victoria's Secret hoodie while hiking has already paid his dues to the god of shame and no further sacrifice is needed.

3) Exhaustion. I'm fat. I'm old. This theory revolves around the fact that I was too tired to be stupid.

At any rate, I had an awesome time. Geremy gave a speech on top of the mountain concerning his views for socio-economic reform and its relation to our education system. I was a complete freak making jokes about everything from a new candy bar(Platoona Maroon) to how I was now dating Harold(I was, after all holding her stuff like a boyfriend. What's next, a midnight trip to the convenience store to get Playtex?) For her part, Harold helped provide the scenery(See 1b above), and almost died due to loss of blood from slipping.

No cause for worry, Harold is fine.

So what I'm saying here is that we all had a good time(At least I did), and I look forward to climbing the mountain again if my body doesn't reject me for making it actually... you know, move.

...and then hits a new low

When I got home from hiking I intended to immediately call my mother. As she's still recovering from her aneurysm we tend to make plans to hang out. For the past week she's been really excited about the new Robin Williams movie. She told me earlier this week that she wanted us to go see it on Friday afternoon.

For the past 6 years I've had a 9 to 5, Monday to Friday job. For some odd reason nobody seems to remember that though. I explained to my mom that Friday night or Saturday might work better. We ended up agreeing on Saturday.

So as I go to call mom I see that I have a missed call and a message. It turns out she's going out with my dad instead. After weeks of hearing, "Your father is driving me nuts", this guy steals my Saturday afternoon date.

I'm not even going to begin to comment on the thought process behind taking a woman who is currently going through physical therapy to increase her balance on a day long motorcycle ride through the country.

And now that I've been stood up by my own mother I've hit an all time low.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Nerd Word(s): How embarassing for you

How Embarassing for you
- statement

1. An overdramatic reaction to something that is in fact, not embarassing. The less embarassing the better.

[Origin: Me, Rose's 25th birthday party. While rolling to see which team would go first in a competitive game of video trivial pursuit, Anthony's 5 was shamed by Rose's 6. I loudly exclaimed, "Oh my god, how embarassing for you" and Anthony cried in the corner]

- syonyms
1. How embarassing for me

- usage
See Origin

Why are the elevators so slow around here?

Just a short one, but another great elevator moment brought to you by yours truly.

This morning while waiting for my car, a girl came down and was waiting for hers also. I believe her name was Kate, but don't hold me to that. As we waited, we chatted a little, and I guess I was too tired to say anything really stupid, or maybe I was just too tired to remember the dumb things I said. At any rate she told me that she was going to pick her friend up from the airport and then was off to work.

It just so happened that the exact same girl was coming home at the same time as I was, and we shared an elevator ride up.
"He's stalking me" she pointed out to her friend, "Just Kidding"
"No, I am... I'm really into you" I joked. "What floor you going to?" I asked as she had her hands full and I really like pressing the buttons.
"Wow, I'm impressed"(17 is the top floor)
"Oh, you're only on 11? I'm not sure I can even talk to you"
"I know, how embarrassing for me"

Up until this point I had done quite well. There was a little back and forth, a little humor. But then somewhere between floors 5 and 6 something happened, and I decided to show the real me.
"I'll let you in on a little secret," she told me, "I'm actually renting"
"Oh, I own mine. Although I probably should have waited." At this point I meant to say something to the effect of, "I'm sure they're a lot cheaper now", but what came out of the swirling abyss of retardation that is my mouth was, "I'm sure they're too cheap now".

Immediately after I said it I thought to myself, "What the hell does that mean? That's retarded you moron. Well, maybe they didn't notice"
"What the hell does that mean? Too cheap?" she asked.
"Oh uhm.. uh.... I mean they're probably cheaper now?"

At that point the doors opened and I exited. I'm pretty sure I didn't make eye contact again after about floor 6. I'm sure she'll be down soon to ask to borrow a cup of sugar

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Nerd Word(s): I think I'm in Love

I think I'm in Love
- statement

1. A statement of minor attraction to a member of the opposite sex due to some trivial fact or occurence. The more trivial the better. Often said with a clutching of the chest near the heart.

[Origin: Erik, maybe]

- synonyms
1. I love you, Pienso que soy en amor, Te quiero mucho... baby.

- usage
"She likes Nintendo? I think I'm in love"
"She drives a Honda? I think I'm in love"
"She breathes Oxygen too? I think I'm in love"

I think I'm in love

Note to the reader: Since college I've had a habit of not making my point completely clear when I write. For my personal writing(Read: this blog) my mission is to take a mole hill of some small event and make a mountain out of it. Often times though, I believe the point gets buried under this newly assembled mountain. With that in mind, today's entry will be followed by a factual and hopefully non-ambiguous translation.

Early last week I heard a ruckus outside my door. Nobody lives on my end of the building... at least not on my floor, so I poked my head out to see what was going on. I was surprised to find that my neighbors across the hall were moving in. It was an older couple. By older I mean older than me(Roughly my parent's age?). The woman introduced herself and her husband as Helen and Steve (Respectively, but if you were too slow to figure that out, I'd rather you just quit reading right now). At least I believe those were the names she gave me. I'm not good with names as it is, and I've only got so much storage capacity for names in my noggin. I promptly forgot the names because they weren't cute girls, which my building seems to be filling up with as of late. It's nothing personal against Steve and Helen, they just didn't make the cut.

Helen and I talked for a bit about the building, neighbors, etc. and as I was leaving I said,
"Well, welcome to the building"
"Oh, we don't live here." She chuckled, "This is our daughters' place"
"Helen did you say it was?"

I ran into Helen a few more times as the week passed. She told me her daughters would be coming from New York on Friday. She was really friendly and nice, so I was optimistic that my new neighbors would be too, assuming the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. Of course I was hoping for a cute daughter who was in to short nerds, but I'd have taken someone nice and relatively respectful of the noise level.

On Saturday I ran into their brother who was carrying things up and down. I tried to make some small talk with him, but he didn't really seem that interested. I believe it was mostly him, his two sisters, and his mom, and I can imagine the frustration that that could bring. He had a younger kid with him. Possibly his son. We talked for a few seconds about playing the guitar while I waited for my car to be brought up by the vallet.

By this time I had met the entire family aside from the girls themselves, and to say that I was a little curious would be an understatement. Later on in the day I returned, and as I approached my door I noticed theirs was about half way open.

Since moving in I've been quite curious about condo etiquette. Do I say hello to everyone? Do I make small talk? Do I introduce myself? I'm never quite sure, and everyone I've asked seems to give me a different answer. As a huge nerd, and someone who leans towards anti-social, my gut instinct would be to avoid eye contact, hug the walls, and stare at my feet. If the past two years have taught me anything, it's that my gut is always wrong.

As I approached my door, bags in hand, I figured it was probably rude to peek into someone else's condo and introduce yourself, but as I turned to unlock my door I realized it's also probably rude to turn your back to your new neighbor and not introduce yourself. I turned to sneak a peek and see if anyone was looking out, and I got caught! Sitting in the condo staring back at me was one of my new neighbors. Luckily she was pretty nice, smiled and said hi with a little wave. Of course a cute girl waving and saying hi turned me into a complete idiot. I attempted to wave back, but then realized my hands were full. It occurred to me that setting everything down would allow me to wave, but it didn't occur to me at that moment that setting them down on the table in my condo wasn't the best place for that. As I set everything down, I heard the self closing front door slam shut. "I'm sure that was friendly" I thought to myself.

Later in the evening I passed by the entire family exiting as I walked to my condo. They were mid-conversation discussing their disappointment with the garbage chute.
"What kind of garbage chute do we have here?" one of the sisters asked me.
"The small kind?" I asked back. "It's pretty worthless really. I just walk my garbage out to the dumpster"

At this point I got my first real look at my new neighbors. They're both very cute brunette girls with nerdy type glasses, which I adore. They both look quite similar, and I'm guessing might be twins. They were both taller than I am, but for these girls, I'd grow.

"Have you met your neighbor yet?" Helen asked them in that motherly way.
"Hi" they said, and I returned the welcome.
At that point we had passed, and I kept walking.
"What's your name?" one asked.
"We're Ruth and Rachel"

I went to make some slight joke about the fact that they look very similar such as, "Don't hold me to that", or "I hope there's not a quiz later", but I kind of blew it.

I ran into them a couple of times on Sunday, and the second time they, along with their mother, were outside trying to get a very large dresser(still in the box) out of their SUV. They really seemed perplexed as to how they were going to get this large object out. I passed by thinking, "Wow, I'll be impressed if those three girls can lift that thing on their own." About two steps past their car I mentally smacked myself in the head and did the bugs bunny skid/stop/turn on one foot. I offered to help which they accepted and I made two trips with them and their dressers. I butchered my way through some small talk on the rides up, but they seemed pretty nice and kept the conversation up despite my social inability.

I think I'm in love.

Translation: I met my new neighbors this weekend. They're two girls. They seem nice and cute.

Friday, October 06, 2006


I've been told by numerous people, "I tried to read your blog, but it's really long." While my gut instinct is to respond with, "You should try not moving your lips when you read it, it makes it go faster." I figure maybe I should give shorter entries a try. With that in mind, today we have three smaller stories, and instead of jumbling them all together and making an overly verbose entry, I'll leave them as three smaller tales that are overly verbose.

First, let's take a step back and explain the blog, the point, and the name.

Originally the point was to kind of chronicle my mostly uninteresting stories concerning the aftermath of my relationship with Stacey. We had dated for 6 years, and then I suddenly found myself unwillingly thrust back in to the single world. It's a world I was never familiar with in the first place, so to find myself faced with it in my late 20's has been less than optimal. I'm not much for dating, or social situations, but it has thus far been an interesting ride that I've been mostly happy to be on.

My hope was that in a year, a few years, or a few decades whenever I'm done and settled down I can look back and see all the stupid stuff I did that led up to the point of me rejoining the world of the mundane, the content, the coupled.

Since then I've expanded it a little to contain other topics. My goal was to write one entry a week, but unfortunately my dating life isn't exciting enough to sustain that, so other topics needed to be covered.

The name, sesquipedalis, quite literally means a foot and a half in Latin, which I find somewhat amusing given my diminutive stature, but the significance is a little more than that. A derivative of the word was first used by the writer Horace when ragging on another writer saying that he used, "Foot and a half long words". The word sesquipedalian now means a person who uses big words, or talks too much. I believe the latter applies to me more than the former.


I wrote a while back about a girl named Iliana who I had thought lived and worked in the same buildings as I do. I didn't think I could have possibly screwed that one up more than I did, but it turns out I was wrong. One of the doormen at the Landmark(Allen) stumbled across my blog, and he recently sent me a message informing me that I had spelled her name incorrectly, which means the girl I stalked found on myspace was the wrong girl.

Even more embarrassing for me is the story that I've left out about me messaging her. Oh well, you win some you lose some right? The important part is that we can now call that mystery solved, and case closed.

In another update... Last night I found out that the day that my mom tried to set Angela and I up, my mom introduced Anna(My brother's fiancé) as "My son's girlfriend". A better choice of words may have been, "My son Josh's girlfriend", because Angela thought that Anna was my girlfriend. In other words my mom went through all of this work to introduce me to Angela, and then blew it by making her think I wasn't single. That's neither here nor there really since she's both gay and crazy, but I still find it quite amusing.


Last night I met Stacy, Mike, and Angela at Fox and Hound for a going away of sorts for Angela. She's gotten a new job, and moves on in a couple of weeks. I'm not sure if I had too many Sprite's, or if Geremy's training is starting to take hold, but I was quite mean. I interrupted her mid-sentence with such brilliant and sensitive things as, "Here, play with this shiny shiny spoon, and let the grown ups talk" and, "Time out, time out... you can keep talking, but we all stopped paying attention a half an hour ago"

Geremy, and a few friends showed up half way through my verbal onslaught and sat somewhat in awe as I incessantly took it to the poor girl. Geremy sat in the corner like Yoda watching over Luke as he attempted to raise the X-Wing from the swamp, for a moment proud that his student was finally taking hold of his lessons. But much like Luke I'm actually a complete wus(More on that later).

At any rate, the more I made fun of Angela, the more she seemed to like it. After she had left everyone told me I needed to treat every girl that way. I'm not sure I have it in me to be a complete ass to everyone. Angela just brings the inner ass out of me I guess... Wow, that sounds weird. There's a lesbian/gay joke in there somewhere, but I'll leave that as an exercise for the reader.

I had stolen her keys about 2 minutes after she sat down, and as she walked out of the bar I told everyone, "Don't worry, she'll be back". She came back a minute later and I told her the keys were down my pants and if she wanted them she had to come get them. She responded with, "Don't tempt me"

The foot note on this is that we were so flirty back and forth that the waitress thought we were dating and put Angela's drinks on my tab. I paid to get a girl drunk, and didn't even get to first base. I guess its just a typical Thursday night for me.

So was this a success story of sorts? Nah, I'm still me... I emailed her after I got home basically saying, "Sorry if I was an ass tonight. It was all in good fun, and hopefully taken that way"

P.S. I realize that the Yoda/Luke reference was pretty weak, even for me. The thing is, if I don't make at least 1 Star Wars reference every 20 posts I have my nerd license revoked, and where would that leave me? By next week expect a post with a Gandalf/Frodo reference.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

DJ Jazzy Jesse

When gmail was introduced, like a good little nerd I ran out and secured my and promptly forgot about it. I use a yahoo address that I've had forever, and didn't really have a need for another, but I figured I should take it before someone else did.

A recent search for online word processing turned up I love). It just so happens that writely is owned now by google, and as such uses the same log on. When I got there I thought, "Oh yeah, I have a gmail address". After playing around with it I decided to log on and clear out a few years worth of spam that I was sure to have collected. I was hoping for something that could make my erections last longer, make me the ultimate lover or at the very least get me my medication at a discounted rate, but I was surprised instead to find numerous emails from someone named Kim.

Kim sent me a lot of emails, containing a lot of personal information, about weddings that I was supposed to be DJing in the Washington area. For those who don't know, I live in Arizona, and true to my oath in 1964 haven't DJ'd north of Oregon since the incident at the Goldstein bar mitzvah. Kim obviously had the wrong email address, but after 18 emails spanning 3 months, she still hadn't figured it out, and continued to send a wealth of information(Dates, times, names, phone numbers, song selection, etc)

Using the detective skills passed down to me by my friend Sean, I looked Kim up on myspace, and also found many of the people who's weddings I had supposedly DJ'd. This was too much info, and I wanted to both have some fun with Kim, but also send her a message. I refrained from mentioning her daughter(Who was also easily myspaced) as I thought that might be crossing a line.

Dear Kim,

Its been a while since I've checked my gmail, and I was quite surprised to find numerous emails from you concerning my DJing business. This is quite depressing because you've made absolutely no mention whatsoever of the stripping and interpretive dance, which is what I pride myself on. The DJing is more just how I get my foot in the door, if you know what I mean, and I think that you do Kim... I think that you do.

While the Pilawksi's were quite surprised as I started taking my top off on the 2nd for the wedding, I personally believe that they were quite entertained. Even though security felt it necessary to remove me from the venue, I think the message came across loud and clear, and that is what is most important to me, the message Kim... the message.

In closing, I hope you have a good sense of humor Kim, and I hope that you've found whoever you're trying to send emails to's correct address, because its certainly not me. If you were, on the other hand looking for a computer programmer, then you've come to the right place. But I think my talents would be much better spent helping you with your java script problems than playing "I ain't mad at cha" by 2Pac at the Porada/Kashner wedding. Who plays 2Pac at their wedding anyhow Kim? What kind of message does that speak to the family about the longevity of the impending relationship that they've come together to celebrate? And if you'll remember from the second paragraph above, I'm about the message Kim... the message.


P.S. It seems that the correct Jesse you're looking for could most likely be found here: email removed

I realize that I have a habit of understating things in a sarcastic way and leaving it up to the other person to pick up on the joke. I also realize this doesn't always carry over in text so well, but I assumed in this case paragraph 3 made the point quite well. But hours later I received a reply:

Test, Test, Test
Jesse, are you there?

To which I finally decide to be quite clear in response to:

Yes, I'm here, but I assure you you still have the wrong Jesse. I thought I made that clear in my other email. You keep sending to email removed, but you've got the wrong nerd. email removed is my address, and I'm not the Jesse you're looking for.

I was trying to make a point with humor before, but that apparently didn't work so well, so now I'll state quite plainly. I don't DJ, and I don't live in WA. I'm also neither tall nor bald(Not yet anyhow). I'm quite sure I'm not the person you're intending these emails to get to.

I'd also like to take this time to suggest you refrain from sending personal info via the internet if you're not sure of the email address.


Lets hope Kim has finally gotten the message. Afterall, that's what I'm about... the message.