This is Not the Post You Were Looking For

• Yesterday the swine flu hit the Internet. No, I don't mean the actual flu. I mean the general pandemonium of it. Twitter was on fire with messages about it. News sites were running reports. At the end of the day, what good did it all do?
  
  Let's keep in mind that roughly 155,000 people die each day for various reasons. It's really not time to freak out yet. That being said, I find it amusing that while the whole world was in an uproar, someone at the U.S. Department of Health was finding my blog by searching for Shaq:
  

• Today I went to the Podiatrist. Apparently I have a very mild case of Plantar Fasciitis if anyone really cared. The fantastic part is the location of the doctor's office. It resides right here on the second floor of this building. Anyone see the problem? Two points if you do.
  

• Alexis Gentry, the new Twitter voice of the Suns, and head coach Alvin Gentry's daughter recently asked the fans for nicknames for Goran Dragic. I posted a reply, which she actually mentioned.
  
  My family's nickname for Dragic comes from both his resemblance to my man-crush Steve Nash, and from my mother's tendency to mix up basketball players. Many a night we would walk in to the living room to hear Mom screaming, "Nash you fool!" A quick glance at the court would reveal that Nash was actually on the bench. Dragic's nickname soon became "Not Nash".
  
  "Oh man. Not Nash is on fire tonight."

• Searching Google for: Best Story on Blogger has me as the #1 or #2 hit right now.
  Searching Google for: Babe of the Day puts me on the first three pages.

The Blog Serves a Purpose

I feel like I've been taking more crap than a Dutch porn star about my blog lately. People aren't happy with this post or that post, or they're not happy with the frequency of posts. Well, there's a lot going on, and it's sort of hard to distill it all down to a manageable story for the blog. I realize in retrospect that I posted the last "Nerd Words" a bit early, since this entry doesn't use the term. I just double checked though, and it turns out that I don't care too much.

I'd like to take the time to write out this entire story before posting it as this story sets up the base for a few more, but I feel the need to post something. So, let's just wing it and see how it goes, shall we?

In the mean time, if anyone out there would like a job ghost writing for Sesquipedalis feel free to email me.

In 2007 I somehow ended up on a "Social Networking" site. I believe I was lured in by a test that promised to either tell me which light saber color I am, or which Firefly character I would be. A few months later I figured, "What the hell?" and filled out my profile. .

After the initial rush of talking to a few girls online, I mostly forgot about the account. The thing with these online sites is that single, sane women are jumped on like the last Miller Lite at a frat party about two seconds after they sign up. As a guy, you have to do something to set yourself apart from the crowed and selling "Jesse" isn't exactly my strong suit. With that in mind, I threw up a brief description of myself and a link to the blog. I figured if anyone had a genuine interest in me, a glance at the stories here would relieve them of the ailment.

Back in November I took a glance around to see if there was anyone new and interesting in the area, and to my surprise there was. Near the top of my match list was a girl named Jo. She was short, redheaded, slightly nerdy, and funny. Really funny. She even mentioned playing Wii in her profile. For a short kid with big feet this was like finding a ring in a cave that makes you invisible.

Despite the fact that I had only viewed an online profile, I was already too intimidated to talk to her. I spent a week working up the sack to send an email. I read and reread her profile thinking of witty things to say. A few self affirmation speeches, a prayer service, and a pep talk from Mory later and I finally landed on something resembling, "Will you marry me?". I immediately regretted sending the email and cried myself to sleep assuming I'd blown my chance with the girl.

The expectations were low, and the e-crush at a manageable four until a few days later when I received a rather lengthy response including the statements, "Wii bowling is rad" and "The other day I applied for a job with the Obama administration, saying that I should be the Secretary of the Internets."

The e-crush was now climbing at an alarming rate.

It turned out that Jo had not only viewed my profile, but also spent a decent portion of an afternoon reading through the blog. Even more surprising is that she still chose to respond.

Jo was living in Chicago, but had plans to move to Phoenix. She explained that she had changed her profile to say "Phoenix" in hopes of meeting some decent peeps to hang out with after the move. I read through her blog(Which you can now find linked on the side of mine), and we were soon exchanging emails on a semi-regular basis. To say that I was excited for her "early 2009" move to Phoenix would be an understatement.

Nerd Word(s): The Ten PM Rule

The Ten PM Rule
- words to live by

1. No writing personal emails after Ten at night.

[ Origin: I used to go visit Ana a lot, and it was a long drive back to my house from Chandler. I had a major crush on her, so the drive home was usually spent thinking about her and how the evening had gone. When I got home I'd generally have a whole new set of things that I wanted to talk to her about so I'd write an email that was usually overly wussy and emo.

After a while I had to make a rule: "No more emails after 10 pm". ]

- usage
1. Yeah, I almost wrote you a reply, but I had a lot to say and it was after 10 so I figured it could wait till the morning.

Call Me Sweet Pea

One of the more interesting parts of high rise living is the diversity of the neighbors.  At first I took it upon myself to get to know everyone I could, but with over 200 units in the building, I quickly found that my efforts were futile.  In the down economy, the residents rotate on a regular basis, and by the time you've learned a person's name, they're gone.

To combat this phenomenon the twins and I devised a simple "Friends" like naming scheme to facilitate in the necessity of passing building gossip.

"So, I ran in to Psycho Blond Chick today"
"Wait... Is she the one across from Scary Racist Dude?"
"No no no.  That's Angry Fighting Couple.  Psycho Blond chick is one unit over"

The interesting thing about Scary Racist Dude's unit is that it's always occupied by someone who is just off.

After Scary Racist Dude it was Pot Smoker Pete.  PSP was then replaced by the most recent occupant, Crazy Witch Lady. I'm not saying that CWL practices black magic, but if this was 1692 I'd be dunking her in the pool to see if she could escape with her hands tied.


As I opened my door a few days ago I was surprised to find a small dog running up to greet me. I looked down the hall and a moment later a door off in the distance opened. CWL would emerge, covered in henna, her hair in that oh so trendy Albert Einstein do, and a general look that said, "I'm somewhere else right now."

She didn't even glance in my direction as she shouted, "Let's go Sweet Pea."
Without hesitation I responded, "Be right there Sugalump" and it was then that she finally reacted to my presence.

"Oh. She's the ambassador of the floor" she explained the dog greeting me.
"Oh.  The dog.  I thought you were talking to me" I feigned ignorance, explaining my joke.
"You're the ambassador for the floor?" she asked, somewhat confused.

Huh?

The eleven floor elevator ride was taken in complete silence save a few socially awkward whimpers from Sweet Pea.