The Developer Trap

About two months ago there was a huge box sitting in one of the spare rooms at our office. I work for a large format printer company so there are always rolls of paper around, and therefore always large cardboard tubes around. Apparently John saw fit to put these two together, combined with an electrical cord, and make a trap.

After some time Sean came across the trap and added a sign, and a nearby empty flat panel monitor box to the trap as "bait".

I'm really not sure how I was not involved in the trap building process. I must have been hard at work that week, but that hardly seems possible. Eventually Sean decided he needed to take pictures of his creation, and wanted a "test dummy" to pose with it.

I'm sure Liang was first choice to trap in a box, but I'm equally sure that he was cranky and argued that he wouldn't do it, so Sean came to me. As is often the case, it didn't take much persuasion to get me to make an ass out of myself.

Sean had the photos for a while, today I finally decided to sit down and throw them together. I hope you enjoy "The Developer Trap", and apologize for the fact that it's mostly inside jokes and nerd humor.

The UFADAR swings both ways/Jesse gets a new building crush

I really wish I had the writing ability to do this story justice, but you'll have to take my word for it that the real version of this was far more amusing than what I've managed to detail here. That being said, sorry it took so long. For some reason I just couldn't finish it. Sorry for the length. Feel free to stop in the middle and make yourself a sandwich, or some homemade lunchables. If that doesn't work give me a call and I'll read it to you.

"Someone in the building was looking for help with their computer."
"Uhm... yeah..." I responded with a bit of hesitation.

It was Allen, former doorman and now resident of my building, on the other end of the phone. He's the all around good Samaritan kind of guy, so I didn't want to come right out and say it, but normally helping people with their computer ends up being a pain in my ass that I'd rather avoid.

"It's Agnes, do you know her?"
"Red hair? About 4 feet tall?" I asked, now somewhat guilty for being hesitant. "Feel free to give her my number."

I'd run in to Agnes a few times in the lobby over the past year. She was an older lady(I'd assumed in her 70's) who always had a smile and a "Hello" as she ran off to her job, volunteering at the hospital. She's the kind of lady that makes you feel like you should hug her goodbye and say thank you for the cookies when she leaves.

After a bit of phone tag we finally arranged a date and time for me to come down and assess the damage. From what I could gather she and her sister had bought condos next door to each other so that Agnes could take care of her. When her sister recently moved in to a retirement home, Agnes moved across the hall to live in the bigger unit.

"When I bought the computa, the... the Geek. You know the Geek from tha Best Buy? He set it up for me" she informed me with her New York type accent and a certain amount of innocence reserved only for children and the elderly when dealing with technology. "I asked the man from Qwest if I needed to call the Geek back, but they said they could do it. He moved the computa for me. And... and now the thing doesn't work!" Her voice perked up at every use of the word "Geek".

Some quick investigation revealed that qwest had really done a number on her computer. I'll save the nerdtastic explanations for offline discussions if anyone is interested, but about an hour later I had most everything fixed except for her email.

"Okay, you need your name and password to sign in here" I told her as I attempted to fix the email issue and moved aside to give her access to the keyboard.

"Oh, it's agnesbridget and the password is..." she revealed what most people consider "private" without hesitation.

"You really shouldn't tell anyone y..." I began to protest, but gave up at the futility of it.

The login didn't work, and after a half hour conversation with qwest we found that they had disabled the account and it couldn't be recovered. I had some choice words for them over their treatment of a customer, but eventually I gave up and decided to sign her up for a free account at yahoo.

I began to fill out the registration information when I got in the kind of situation that I always seem to screw up despite my best intentions.

"Uhm... it uh... wants your birthday" I asked hesitantly. Was it rude to ask? Should I have just put in a fake date? Would that have been more rude?

"Oh. April 11, 1917" she said with a big smile. "I'm an old bag"

I was soon done with the necessary changes. The printer was working again so she could write her niece. "She never writes back anyhow. I don't know why I botha".

The shortcut to her recipe site was placed on the desktop. "It's the only thing I use tha Intenet for."

Everything else that could possibly be distracting was placed away in a nice folder. "I don't have time for all that nonsense"

She offered to pay me for my time, but I was more than happy to do it, and didn't feel right taking money from a 90 year old woman, especially one who's more proficient with the computer than half the people I know.

---

About a week later Liang was supposed to come over to watch the Sun's game. I had hung up the phone with him less than 5 minutes before when I heard a knock at my door. I thought maybe he had tricked me and called from the lobby so I threw the door open and jumped outside only to find Agnes standing there, now somewhat startled.

"Oh... uh hi" I stammered as she simultaneously announced, "Ya... Ya got no room unda ya door!"

I looked at her somewhat puzzled until she pulled a card out. "I tried to shove this under it, but it doesn't fit. Ya got no room unda ya door" she repeated.

"I wanted to say thank you for helping me out the other day. I was at the Biltmore. That Apple store. I don't know what they do there. My son... he... he's got one of those... what do you call em? A tripod. He loves the thing."

"Oh, an iPod?" I asked.

"Yeah, it plays tha music or whateva." she commented with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I got no use for all that. But he seems to love it." At this she handed me a card. After another thank you or two she left and I went back inside to open the card and find a 50 dollar Apple Store gift card.

Liang showed up minutes later and I related the whole story to him. My pure amusement at the whole ordeal was enough for him to start ribbing me about my 90 year old crush. The teasing continued until half time came and we decided to leave for dinner.

"Well, I always did want a short red headed girl." I relented as gathered our things to go. "And besides, a sweet, cute girl brought me a card. That's better than you've done in a while"

We were half way down the hall when the door to 11-N flew open and Agnes came bounding out with an energy normally reserved for those a tenth of her age. "Oh! I got distracted. I met this nice lady and decided ta chat for a while. I think I'm stuck on the 11th floor!"

We smiled, nodded and said our pleasantries as we made way to the elevator.

Once out of earshot Liang turned to me with a huge grin on his face and finally gave in, "All right. I see it"

Nerd Word(s): UFADAR

UFADAR(Universal Formula for Acceptable Dating Age Ranges)
- acronym

1. A formula for deciding whether a person is acceptable for dating based off of their age(Half your age plus seven)

- pronunciation
OOF DAR(Somehow the middle A became silent)

[ Acronym Origin: Me - this post, but credit goes to Geremy for taking it from a bad blog joke to a normal piece of the nerd lexicon through repeated use. ]

[ Formula Origin: First told to me by my friend James, and he's now an MD, so that basically makes it fact. ]

- usage
1. "Wow, that girl is cute"
"Woah, back up dude... way off the UFADAR"

2. "Is his new girlfriend UFADAR compliant? She seems a bit young"

Is Nash taking shots at AI?

I was recently searching for movies on youtube featuring my man-crush Steve Nash. I stumbled upon a few which made me wonder if he was purposely making fun of Allen Iverson or if it was just a coincidence. Since it appears to be Magic Media Month here at Sesquipedalis I decided to share the movies with you(Or is it Awesome Annual Alliteration day?).

To fully understand what I'm talking about you should first watch the now famous footage of Iverson in a post game interview. If you're a basketball fan of any kind you've probably already seen this, but even if you have seen it you'll probably still find it amusing.

Now watch these two videos of Steve Nash

Nerd Word(s): ______ Crush

_____ Crush
- Proper Noun

1. An attraction (generally to) a member of the opposite sex segregated by a specific domain(ie Work Crush)

[ Origin: In my youth I gave up on finding a woman, and therefore gave up on crushes all together. After breaking up with Stacey I decided I needed a crush, and forced myself to have one on a cute Chilean girl in my class. Little did I know it would open the floodgates and I soon found it necessary to label my crushes so as to differentiate them. ]

- examples
1. (ex)Neighbor Crush - You'll have to guess:

2. Building Crush(At work) - Linda?(editor's note: I need a new work crush and will be accepting applications)
3. Famous Crush - Tina Fey
4. Man Crush - Duh
5. Lesbian Crush - Angela
6. Reader Crush - You. Seriously.

Jesse through the ages

My most recent blog crush did an entry with pictures of her in the past. I enjoyed the idea and since my mom recently had me scan in some pictures I thought I'd do the same.

That would be me in the front and Josh in the back. We were(are) rednecks from Arkansas, so I'd assume this is just how things were done. (I thought it best to start with a naked pic to keep the ladies interested)

When I was four we moved to Germany. One of the big things I remember from the time was going on "walks". We would do these long organized walks(Like a team hike, only not so much mountainous). I think I wore that silly hat all over Europe.

At seven years old we returned to the United States to a little place called Arizona and I haven't left since. As we were about to leave Germany my mom and dad sat us down for a family talk.

"How would you feel about having a little brother or sister" they asked.
"Great!" Josh said realizing he'd have another minion to assert his will over.
"Quite frankly I don't think we need one" I replied after careful consideration of the monetary responsibilities that another child would bring.

As usual mom sided with Josh on this one. It probably helped that she was already pregnant.

And thus Mory(Miranda, featured in pink) was born.

Note: This appears to be the point where the size of my head started spiraling out of control

Yeah, I used this picture earlier, but it bares repeating. This is my best friend James and I at 8th grade graduation. Important things to note in this picture:

• I'm standing a step or so in front of James to give the illusion of height.
• James was by no means "tall"
• I've got my official "huge nerd watch" as proof that I'm no Johnny Come Lately to the dork scene.
• That's probably one of only 5 times I've had a tie on in my life.
  
  

Half way through high school I finally looked like I was about 12. Note the ears had finally reached critical mass.

In college I grew the hair out to give the illusion of age and hide the ears. As much as people make fun of me for it now, it apparently worked. I had also hoped that the long hair would make me a better guitar player. That part unfortunately did not work.

Eventually the hairline started receding, and much like Luke facing Vader I finally found my destiny and got chubby.

I hope you've enjoyed this walk down memoryembarassment lane as much as I have. If you're a fellow blogger feel free to do the same.

Nerd Word(s): You see what I did there?

You see what I did there?
- question

1. A way of (re)pointing out a particularly obvious joke so as to give it more emphasis.
2. A way of pointing out a particularly obscure joke so as to enlighten someone else.

[ Origin: Unknown ]

- usage
1. While watching Star Wars:
Han Solo: She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts
Me: I'm going to start calling your mom the Millennium Falcon.
Sean: *cries like a girl*
Me: Yeah, you see what I did there?

See what I did there?

Geremy(Todd) mentioned to me that he was surprised I hadn't written about this yet. To be honest I just wasn't sure if I was ready to or not, but I think the time has come. I'm ready to talk about it.

Sometimes things just fall in to place out of nowhere, and you think they're perfect. An unexpected love seems like it could never falter as if some invisible hand is writing your story. You put faith in this "thing" because the only logical explanation is that it was fate. This perceived perfection removes even the possibility of things ever "turning sour".

Then you hit the inevitable bump in the road. Suddenly fear takes over. Doubt rushes over you like a tidal wave that you can't possibly stand against. Soon all the things you held to be true in this world are questioned. Was it real? Was it a lie? Is the world truly round?

Eventually we deal with these wounds. It's life. Either they heal, are displaced, or the rift is mended with the once "true love".

The above of course describes my past year. The excitement came to an abrupt close over the summer in a way that I wasn't particularly prepared to deal with. At first I thought maybe it was time to move on, give up the ghost, stop carrying the torch, but when that little Canadian hit his first pull up three pointer this season I was hooked again and realized I had been fooling myself.

Go Suns.

What do you do?

Long before she (re)skyrocketed to fame with such great hit shows as American Idol Season 1 and American Idol Season 2, Paula Abdul was a multi-platinum recording artist who's philosophical and thought provoking lyrics helped to shape a generation.

With great lines such as "Oh I Love what ya do when ya do what ya do", how could you not love the 5'2 half Canadian songstress?

The question at hand then is do you love what you do(when you do what you do)? It's a conversation that I seem to be having a lot lately. Enjoyment of one's employment seems to be a rare quality these days, which is somewhat surprising to me. Some don't dislike their job, but in my mind that's a far cry from enjoying it.

Sean said it best when describing his wife's attitude towards her job, "She feels about the same as I did when I worked at the dollar store in high school. Collect a paycheck and go home."

So, what do you do for a living? How did you come to do it, and how do you feel about it? What would you rather be doing with your time?

My Answer:
At age 7 I felt I had some positively brilliant and original concepts for video games. There was the Voltron video game, the G.I. Joe video game, the other Voltron video game, etc. In the absence of anyone who wanted to create these video games for me I decided it couldn't be that hard and decided to do it myself. Years later I still hadn't done much more than write a program that would print out, "Jesse is cool!!!", but that didn't stop me from trying.

Now some 20 years later I've written websites, printing applications, and flight simulators. The amazing part is that someone paid me to do something that I probably would have been doing anyway. I can't really imagine doing anything else for a living, and can't imagine a job more suited towards me.

I sleep in until 8:30 in the morning. Get to work where I read the daily nerd news, solve some problems, and spend half of my day incubation thinking my way through issues(Read: Making fun of the Seans and playing practical jokes)

I don't say this to gloat. There are certainly other areas of life that require my attention enough that this one can be considered marked off the list(For the time being). I'm just curious what others are doing.

And now for something truly embarrassing

When I was in fourth grade I had a huge crush on this girl Robin Meyers. I really have no idea why I had a crush on her, but at the time it seemed like I needed to have a crush on someone, and she was cute, and there. At that age I was just fully coming in to my nerdiness, and about the size of large 4 year old. By contrast, Robin was probably the most popular girl in school, and would go on, years later, to be the prom queen of my high school, so my chances with this girl were about as good as Michael Richards giving the keynote speech at the next NAACP banquet.

I'm by no means "huge" now, but back then I was so short that I used to see a specialist just to make sure there wasn't something seriously wrong with me. To give you an idea, I remember getting "up to" 70 lbs. my freshman year in high school. The worst part of the specialist visit was a close inspection of my personal area(s), which would suck for anyone just going through the pre-teen years, but was especially troublesome for me because it always happened immediately after the exceptionally cute nurse had taken my vitals.

Eventually they decided they needed to do extensive blood work, and I was admitted to the hospital for an overnight stay. Over the course of 24 hours they would draw two vials of blood every 20 minutes. Needless to say I was none-to-thrilled with the concept, but then I found out they had an Atari (with Pitfall!) in the children's wing and decided maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Side note: Pitfall was a game where you had 20 minutes to explore a jungle in search of ancient treasures. You never got to the good treasures until about 18 minutes in, and it took me about 3 minutes to get from the place where they took my blood to the Atari, and 3 minutes to get back. I was one frustrated, low on blood, short nerd.

By night time they had started tying my arm up like a heroine addict, and were alternating arms just to get blood. I believe this is as close in my life as I've ever been to being drunk, and I spent most of the night half asleep, and completely out of it.

I woke up midway through the evening needing to use the restroom. They had told me that if I needed to get up I should call someone, but aside from a slight headache, I felt okay. And then I stood up.

The room started to blur, and the floor started tilting left and right. "No problem, just follow the wall" I thought as I leaned against it. I made it safely to the bathroom and went about my business. I was a smart kid, but in my drunken stupor it never occurred to me that sitting down might be the best way to tackle the problem presented to me. The problem being that there appeared to be either 2 or 4 toilets that also seemed to be moving.

A few minutes later I stumbled out, and as I headed for my bed, fell flat on my face.

Some time later I awoke, now even more out of it. My mother was at the foot of the bed talking to the nurse. Apparently the night shift of nurses was different, and the one that I was familiar with had been gone for a while.

"... he's in the 4th grade..." I pieced my mom's words together, "very smart... goes to school at..."
"Oh... odd coincidence... daughter... Robin... goes there too." the nurse responded.

I strained to concentrate and focus on this new nurse. Eventually after much effort the name tag came in to focus, "Nurse Meyers"

In my 4th grade mind she ran home immediately and told her daughter, "One of your school mates was in today... Yeah, the one who can't seem to grow. Well, he peed all over the place and guess who had to clean it up?"

The Swan Song

Over the past couple of months, I've gone through the gamut of emotions. Ruthie's boyfriend had moved to Ohio for medical school, and I knew it was but a short time until she followed.

At first I tried to make sure she knew what she'd be giving up here by keeping her entertained and laughing. It's not in my nature to "convince" someone to do something. I generally think people should make decisions on their own, but in this instance I wanted to make sure that I wouldn't regret not having tried.

Eventually I realized the efforts were fruitless and sat, watching the grains of sand fall slowly, like a patient who just received a bad diagnosis and no longer wants to fight. I tried to push her away, and retreat to my condo, but that plan didn't work so well either.

Had I written this entry two weeks ago, you may have gotten more of the latter emotion, but luckily, fear of reader(Read: Rose) backlash, and a little time led instead to this entry. As I sit here on the eve of Ruth's departure I turn instead to the silver lining of the dark cloud that hovers over our collective condo.

The past year has in fact been great. I've had fun. I've learned a lot. I've grown(Emotionally speaking. Despite what that email in my spam box said, the pills and the contraption didn't work at all). But, with all this said, what are some of the things to look forward to with them being gone?

1. More normal looking people - Since I've met the twins there's been a veritable parade of good looking people(Both male and female) marching through 11-G/L, and quite frankly I'm tired of always being the goofiest looking person in the room. Day 1 after they move out I'm asking a few friends over and having an "Average Looking Person" party. Most of you know who you are. If you're a 6 or less, start checking the mail box for an invite.

2. Less confusion - Most people who meet the twins can't tell them apart. I believe I suffered from this affliction for less than two days, but for many it lasts much much longer. Not only is it frustrating when they're around, but also later when I'm talking about them. Many is the time I've been mid-awesome story and been interrupted with, "Wait, Rachel was which one again?"

3. Long distance pen pals - Anyone who's read this blog and met me in real life will vouch for the fact that I'm much more amusing when put in to digital format. It's hard to believe given the crappy jokes I've used lately(See bullet #1), but it's true. For that reason, the Jesse that Ruthie knows is about to get a whole lot funnier.

4. Less lame guys/My guitar is finally mine - No explanation needed

5. New neighbors - Sure, I totally dig my neighbors and can't imagine anyone being better, but before they moved in, I couldn't imagine anyone as great as them, so that proves that my imagination sucks.

Any good poker player knows what beats a pair of aces, and that's three of a kind. Sure, the chances of amazing triplets moving in next door are really slim, but someone has to move in there, and if I've learned anything from the great philosopher/truth teller Kenny Rogers it's that you've gotta know when to take a new hand. Well, that and that just because it's fast food doesn't mean chicken can't still be delicious.

Okay, the original intent was for this to be 10 reasons, but I think I ran out of things to write. Quite frankly it's tough to find my silver lining. The two girls are an absolute pain in the ass, but for the past year they've been my pain in the ass, and I've enjoyed every minute of it.

AMF YO-YO

I've been at this blog thing for a bit now(100 posts to be exact), and while I've enjoyed the creative outlet, lately it's become more of something I feel like I need to do rather than something I want to do.

This phenomenon can most likely be attributed to the fact that I haven't had a lot of stories to tell, but such is life.

With that said, the goal for Sesquipedalis: Year Two is to focus more on the quality, and less on the quantity. I'll be taking a break for a bit, but fret not. As luck would have it, two of the funniest people know in the world(That's right, with Adam moving to Germany we're international!) have decided to take to the blogging and put me to shame.

1. Adam - Adam was my neighbor from age 15 on(I have good luck with neighbors apparently), but he recently relocated to Germany. He claims the move was due to a female relationship, but we all know it was really because of his love of David Hasslehoff and desire to be with like minded people.

You can find Adam's blog on the side panel of mine, or here:
http://theadhocproject.blogspot.com/

2. Rose - Rose is basically what I'd be like if I was a girl, prettier, constantly cranky, and slightly funnier... Oh yeah, and if I was a better writer. While she doesn't have the crazy stories of lesbians, twins, and other such nonsense(I mean does anything really happen in Iowa?), she's much better at making funny out of nothing.

You can find Rose's blog, which is slightly inferior to my blog, here:
http://thisblogisbetterthanyourblog.blogspot.com/

I've got a few stories left in the works, and a few loose ends to wrap up here, but I'm not sure when I'll get around to them. Maybe soon, maybe never, but until such time, keep faith alive, you are somebody.

The Sesquipedalis Year in Review: Superlatives

Best Joke:
There are many to choose from, but for some reason this one really stuck with me.

About a month or so ago, Ruth, Allen, Kendall and I took a walk down to Genny's for some late night snacking. If you're not familiar with Arizona, Genny's is the "Gay Denny's".

At any rate, while discussing funerals Kendall announced, "When I die I want someone to sing Don't Stop Believing by Journey at my funeral."

"That's a good one." I said, "Journey is one of my favorite bands"
"Except I want an Asian person to sing it" she finished the joke.

It took a few moments for it to sink in, but once it did I couldn't stop laughing. (If it hasn't clicked for you yet, just let it percolate for a bit)

Honorable Mention: Mom

Best Pretend Girlfriend Date
Laura recently let me come to her house and she painted while I blogged. I was hopeful that her artistic chi would rub off on me and some how result in a better blog. I, much like Britney when she said yes to the VMA's, was sadly mistaken.

Honorable Mention: Maya for "Sewage Waterfall and Chinese food - A Winning Combination"

Best New, "You know how I know Jesse's Gay?" fact
Well, you could easily write a novel for this one, but the winner is, Aqualung

Honorable Mention: After hearing recently that our offices might get moved(Separated), Sean told me, "I can't quit you"

Second Honorable Mention: Anything involving Geremy

Third Honorable Mention: Anything involving Ben

Best Sandwich
Jesse Sandwich. As created by Ruth and Rachel(Yeah baby!)

Best Wall Art
Twins and Dolphin

Honorable Mention: Liang Shot

Best Blog Post
I don't know, probably something Stefi wrote, but for the sake of self promotion, I'm going to say the on that cracks me up the most looking back is "I Think I'm in Love" mostly because I wrote it and then really was more or less in love. I'm usually not quite so prophetic with the positive stuff.

Most Embarrassing Moment
Many of my "embarrassing" moments really aren't that bad, but the one that really did hit home was the infamous hand shake.

Most Recent Blog Entry that I "Phoned In"
This one.

The Sesquipedalis Year in Review: Top 5 Stories You Never ReadStory 5: Laura's Art Show

One might assume from the writings in my blog that many of my friends, like myself, are uncultured and untalented. In this particular case, One would be very wrong. Despite the fact that my talents are limited to video game mastery and crappy puns, many of my friends have actual artistic ability.

I've known Laura so long that I can't exactly remember how we met. I do remember a particular event that seemed to set off the friendship, but that's a story for another time.

I was quite happy earlier this year when she informed me that she'd be having a showing at her house and I was invited. Laura has been a artist/painter(As opposed to house painter) forever, but seems to have dedicated herself to it more in the past few years, and after what seemed like an eternity of her saying, "I'm not ready yet", it was nice to finally hear her say, "I'm ready"

I invited Ruth and Rachel to go with me since I know as much about art as I do women, and having someone there to keep me in line seemed like a good call. They agreed, but Ruth ended up being out of town so Rachel ended up being my keeper for the evening.

The night went well, and I was both impressed and proud of the body of work that Laura had created. You can view her work at her website, but here's one of my personal favorites(Even though it seems to bother Laura that "Everyone likes that one"):

http://www.lauramariestudios.com/

The Sesquipedalis Year in Review: Top 5 Stories You Never ReadStory 4: Twin Parties

While Ruth and Rachel had a lot of get togethers and parties over the past year there were two of considerable note.

The first party was the annual LRLR New Year's celebration extravaganza. The twins have a tradition that they have kept since they were in fourth grade of getting together with their two best friends, Lauren and Leyda(The love of my life), and spending New Year's Eve together. Although the four have gone their separate ways and now live all cross the country, they still manage to reassemble once a year like the Super Friends or the Avengers.

I'd like, in vast detail, to describe this celebration to you, but unfortunately this estrogen based Voltron is "no boys allowed". I will however, to the best of my abilities, describe the few details I was able to glean as the the pre-party was at the Twin's house, which means the pre-party was at my house.

Quote of the evening:

Rachel has a tendency to joke, so I have no idea if the following was a true statement, or an attempt to give me a heart attack. We were at Target shopping for party supplies. Rachel wanted to get silly string while Ruth and Leyda were against the idea. I decided to try to help Ruth and Leyda out before quickly realizing(As often happens with Rachel) that I had bitten off more than I could chew.

"Yeah, you don't want that stuff, it's a mess." I said, "Besides, it'll get all in your clothes and be sticky"
"Oh, we're normally all naked by that time anyhow" she said as she grabbed the can out of my hand and walked away.

30 minutes later I had scraped my jaw off the ground and returned home where Rachel was busy making a balloon/float/drop type apparatus and the other girls were cutting confetti.

Other important details(Now with pictures!):

1. At one point in the night they decided to attempt a dance they had choreographed in their youth. (Not Pictured)

2. I was asked to take pictures to commemorate the occasion.

3. I got out my extensive hat collection to help with the photographs.

4. Rachel does a good impersonation of a ninja.

5. Ruth tried to steal my camera to take pictures of me

6. But I punched her

7. Eventually we made up.

8. It's quite possible I should spend the rest of my life trying to convince Leyda to marry me, but true to form, I think I freaked her out.

The second "Twin Party" this year was my birthday. The girls took it upon themselves to throw me a bash of epic proportions. Truth be told, had I been given a choice I probably would have asked for a quiet evening alone since I don't enjoy being the center of attention. Although to stick with the theme of truthfulness, I'm sure that it's impossible for anyone to be in the same room as those two and be the center of attention. At any rate, I ended up quite pleased with it, and I'm sure it's a birthday I'll never forget.

Erik trying to steal my neighbors

The Sesquipedalis Year in Review: Top 5 Stories You Never ReadStory 3: Awake and Alert

I pretty much lost my "edge" about 4 or 5 years ago. I remember being at a concert and looking out across all the emo kids in the crowd and thinking, much like gym class in high school, "I don't belong here".

I immediately took off my black T-Shirt, got a hair cut, turned my hat around forwards, and went and bought every album by Kenny G. With a signed contract from "The Man" in my pocket, I more or less gave up on live music unless it was main stream, or live music recorded on a CD.

It took a bit of convincing, but I finally made it to one of Maya's band's shows. Luckily her audience is more of the happy teenage kids than the emo "my mom just doesn't get me" variety that I rolled with as a kid. They're the type that wouldn't judge me on my polo shirt and slacks.

I've now seen Awake and Alert a handful of times, and am pleased to report that they're not bad. The best show featured Maya doing a few solo acoustic songs beforehand. I'm not sure if she'll be doing it again, so if you missed it, too bad sucker.

So anyhow, as much as I hate plugging music, check them out on myspace and do Maya a solid and pick up the album when it comes out in Sept.

http://www.myspace.com/awakeandalert

Yeah yeah, I lied. I've never worn a polo shirt in my life.

The Sesquipedalis Year in Review: Top 5 Stories You Never ReadStory 2: James Gets Married

When I was in second grade I was on a soccer team. I don't remember much about the soccer team. We had blue uniforms, and didn't win a lot. I played defense, and our goalie was a kid who slightly resembled Luke Skywalker, and probably for that reason, I thought he was a cool guy.

As luck would have it James and I sat next to each other the following year at school, and he spent his afternoons with his Aunt Linda who lived about 10 houses down from me. It wasn't long before we were "Jesse James", a joke that every adult thought they were the first to make, and we were forced to laugh at.

By the time eighth grade rolled around, we had done everything together. We were the two stereotypical nerds from every teen movie you've ever seen(See Superbad). We graduated junior high, and one day while outside riding our bikes or throwing ball or whatever James told me he was moving to Tennessee.

James and Jesse at 8th grade graduation. Oddly enough, both single at the time

Time passed, and like many do, we lost touch. I eventually found him by use of the Internet a few years later in college. We'd hang out when he came back through town, and though we hadn't seen each other for many years, it was like nothing had changed. He went on to medical school and is now a doctor.

I was slightly surprised when he called a few months back to ask me to be in his wedding, both by the fact that someone had agreed to marry him, and by the fact that he had asked me to be in it. It wasn't that I didn't still consider him a good friend, but a long time had passed since we were major components of each other's lives. Besides, I assumed the possibility of me embarrassing him weighed heavily on his decision.

I of course agreed. If Wedding Crasher's taught me anything it's that Weddings are the place to be. The date was set(7-7-7). I of course was late making my plans. After my dad's health issues I considered not going, but he seemed okay, and I was soon on my way to Jackson, MS.

James is simultaneously the most over prepared and most nervous person on the planet, which made for a fair amount of harassment from me, and his best man David(Jesse 2.0). Everything seemed to be going according to plan until about an hour before the wedding when James's face froze up in that "OH SHIT" kind of look that you don't want to see out of someone who's a doctor. His face didn't relax, and no sound came out. Eventually David pieced it together.

Jesse, James, David, David, Katie - Groom + 4 Groom's Persons

"You forgot the rings"

James nodded the affirmative, and to live up to his best man title, David quickly headed back to the hotel while I tried my best to lighten the mood.

Basically how I'll look on my wedding day in case any of the ladies were wondering

In the end James and Amanda had a storybook wedding, and I'm sure the marriage will be nothing less. It's interesting to see my childhood chum all grown up, but to be honest in 15 years he hasn't changed much really, and that's a good thing.

James and Amanda. I think he likes to keep short people around. It's good for the self image

The Sesquipedalis Year in Review: Top 5 Stories You Never ReadStory 1: A date with Milka

Wow, that has to be the longest title ever. I originally wanted to do an entry containing 5 smaller stories that I never wrote since they would have ended up being rather short. But I'm always told that I write too much anyhow, and the network has been on my ass about lack of content lately, so I guess I'll split them up.

"No, I'm just really tired and don't want to go out tonight" the little voice on the other end of the line said. Ana had been pulling away for months, so I really expected nothing less from the phone call, but I had to try. "Oh, my sister says hi. She'd probably want to go do something"

"Yeah? Alright, ask her if she wants to go get gelato." I said half jokingly.
"She said okay"
"I'll be there in 30 minutes" I said with an uncharacteristic spontaneity and quickly hung up the phone.

I had known Ana's sister Milka for a few years and always gotten along well with her. In some ways she was the "Jesse" of their family. She was the responsible one, the one who took care of herself.

The date went well. We spent the majority of the night talking about Ana and being silly. She told me that I should make up an extravagant story for my blog where her and I end up making out on my couch or some other such nonsense just to see how Ana would react, but I just didn't have it in me.

The Sesquipedalis Year in Review: Report Card

The blog has been a bit dead lately, and for that I apologize, but like Lindsay Lohan and a coke dealer, or Augustus Gloop at an all you can eat buffet, I'm back and you can be sure I'll be checking in frequently. Edit: I was told after having written this, on a totally unrelated subject, that "You should never apologize for your work". I apologize for my writing quite often. Sorry for all of the apologies.

It's hard to believe that I've been pushing this crap out for a year now, and even harder to believe that somebody has actually cared enough to read it(Thanks Mom). It seems like only yesterday I was a spikey haired nerd without a beard, living day to day, over analyzing my life and interactions with members of the opposite sex. But now, some 12 months and almost a hundred posts later I've matured, I've moved forward I've... well, basically nothings changed.

I shouldn't say nothing has changed. A lot has actually changed around me in the past year. I just don't think I've changed all that much. Feelings of lack of growth aside, let's take a trip back and look at some of the hits and misses from the past year.

Female Relations:
I think my female relationships over the past year can best be described with the following picture:

I'd be the one on the left in this picture(Actual size)

I wasn't sure if that joke would make sense so I went ahead and translated it from English to Japanese and then back again to English. It's good enough for DVD player instructions, it's good enough for Sesquipedalis.(Credit goes to News Radio for this joke)

Jesse thank you! But as for our king women there is another castle

Grade: D-

Non-romantic type relations:
Aside from the romantic stuff, I'd give the "friend's" department a pretty big thumbs up. I lost a few on the way this year, but I also met a lot of people. Having hot neighbor twins is a bit like being best friends with the quarterback in high school. Sure I'm not the most popular girl in school, but at least I get invited to all the parties.

The good news is I've gotten to branch out and meet a lot of types of people I never would have met otherwise. The twins have a way such that even my turtle shell like defense doesn't normally hold out long, and I end up having to be somewhat social.

Grade: B+

Goals:
My #1 goal this year was to just get out, be more social, and do things that I normally wouldn't do. As stated previously, mission accomplished on that front. I've gone as far as actually ordering a beer while on a work trip to Chicago. Oddly enough, the tap broke while they were pouring mine, so I took it as a sign from the giant spaghetti monster that it was time to get back on the wagon and ordered a Coke.

Other, lesser goals didn't fair so well. As far as female interactions go, I think I got more play from my soon to be sister-in-law(That story coming sometime) than anyone else.

I did beat the new Legend of Zelda and Super Mario, and as you can imagine, to a nerd those are quite important goals.

Grade: A-

Overall the past year gets about a B-. I'd say things have progressed in a positive manner, and I'm certainly no worse off than I was last year, but it did seem like for every time I hopped on the express way this year there was a traffic jam, or flat tire to slow me down.

The Great Beard Challenge

Historians may have lost the original stories as to how the Great Beard Challenge got started, but I shall do my best to relate it as I remember.

"I always wanted to have a beard" Sean said. He's a 27 year old man with the facial hair growth of a 7 year old girl. His newborn son Cale will have a beard before Sean ever does.

"I bet mine is worse." I replied. It's a well known fact that my people(nerds) are perpetual one-uppers, we one up people. "I think I have like 6 hairs that actually grow"

"Yeah, but at least you don't have blond hair" he pointed out.

"Your mom has blond hair, and the curtains match the carpet."

Okay, that last part didn't happen, but you can imagine what it would be like if it had. After a half an hour of "nuh uh" and, "your mom" one of us suggested we find out.

"I could definitely 60% a beard" I told him. "The beauty of this bit is, we have to do nothing. It'd basically be like what you get paid to do here"

We quickly set the rules of the competition up. Best beard in 30 days wins. We invited a few other people to join us in our beard competition, but most declined. We made sure to only invite people who can't grow beards. After significant persuasion, Scot decided to join up.

"I'm not sure how long I can last though. Kelly won't like it" Scot said, trembling in fear of his wife.

"Well, you can go for as long as you can hold out, or if you find your balls maybe you can stay for the whole 30 days." we told him.

We started taking pictures every day, and Sean soon set up a website to track the progress.

As of the writing of this entry I look absolutely ridiculous. Not only that, but most people seem to agree that I'm winning. How embarrassing for Sean.

http://greatbeardchallenge.blogspot.com/

NerdMory Word(s): Fan

Fan
- Noun

1. Anyone who is a friend, or shows an interest in you.

[ Origin: For a period of a couple of years Miranda replaced the word "peep" in her vocabulary with the word "fan"]

- usage
1. "I was probably going to drop in to the party and at least say hi to my fans."

Miranda's 21stPart 2 - Mory Hearts Vegas

Yeah yeah, I'm behind. Sorry. This one has been sitting around since I made the "Heart" entry, it's just taken a while to finally push it out.

2 years ago Miranda turned 21 and decided that for her birthday, a trip to Vegas was in order. The idea of ten or so of my sister's 20-something year old female friends "drunk and crazy" in Vegas combined with the new "What happens in Vegas..." ads that had been running on TV was enough to convince me that it was an event I should attend. I mean somebody had to be there to be the responsible one and, well, look out for them. Yeah, look out for them.

I elected to drive up separately since I hadn't taken Friday off of work, and as always I like to have an escape plan in the event of unforeseen issues, or an attack from the black ninjas. After the 5 and a half hour trip I arrived at the hotel. My mom, who was easily located at the closest slot machine, informed me everyone else was at New York New York, a mile or so down the strip.

I made my way through the crowds of people, down the strip, and finally arrived at the casino. A few text messages later and I found "the group" in the ESPN zone bar where my sister had picked up a fan in the form of a Marine who was on leave.

"Your sister needs to go back to the hotel, she's hammered", Anna(My brother's girlfriend) informed me.

Who wants to take her? I questioned in my head. Funny, no volunteers?

It took a bit longer to convince her that she needed to go, but eventually she relented.

"I'll go too. I'm out of money" a woman I hadn't realized was "with us" turned and said. She was a bit older... maybe 40's?

"Mom's friend?" I mouthed silently to Anna.
She shook her head. "Miranda's"
Really?

As we were about to leave Anna pulled me aside, "Get Miranda a cab. She'll never make it all the way back. And... watch out for Kathy. That woman is crazy"

Krazy Kathy huh? How bad could it be?

Miranda, all drunk and stuff

By the time we reached the street I was practically carrying Miranda while Krazy Kathy was jabbering non-stop about what else they "needed" to do that night. I soon found a cab and asked the driver how much for a ride back to our hotel.

"No thanks." He said. Apparently the trip was too short for him. "For you... 20 dollars" he reconsidered.

I considered telling him where he could go, but my arm was already getting tired of holding my sister up, and we still had about a mile to go. Apparently I had spent too much time weighing my options because Kathy answered for us with a few words that shouldn't be repeated in a family blog such as this, accompanied by a hand gesture(Hint: Not a wave). The taxi driver responded in kind. I quickly corralled the two and steered them north.

A half mile down the road a tour bus pulled up. The doors opened, and people started dancing. Moments later the doors closed and the bus sped off, but not before Kathy could comment, "Hey... there's a bus full of dancing black people"

Miranda, who was now practically passed out, perked up. "Oh" she said. "Hey, there's another one over there." I assume that somewhere in her alcohol consumed mind she decided that it was a game and by the time she had physically pointed out 2 black people she was somehow winning. I wasn't sure if she was winning or not, but I was quite sure at that point who was losing.

Thank you for this Kathy... Thank you oh so much.

"Look at that one," my sister thought she whispered as we approached the hotel, "She's dressed like a whore"

An hour later, feeling somewhat like Frodo after having dropped the ring off, I had gotten my sister in to bed and found my mom. "You're in a room with your Uncle Tim" she told me.

I love my uncle, and hadn't seen him in a while, so I was happy with the arrangement... at least until I opened the door and was assaulted by his snore. They do light rail construction 20 feet from my window in the mornings right now with a jackhammer, and it's more tolerable than my Uncle's snore.

After little sleep, I finally decided to get out of bed, sure that the second day would be better than the first had been.

Adam directs a movie

I've been traveling a lot, and at times without net access. That probably doesn't seem like a big deal for you, but for me it's like traveling without my legs. It sucks. At any rate, I leave again on Sunday for Chicago and as I probably won't have time to finish the 2 or 3 blog entries I've been working on I thought I'd leave you with this.

6 or 7 years ago, before "the man" had sucked any uniqueness and motivation out of me, I loved working on projects. The project itself wasn't all that important, as long as it was a goal that I could work hard towards and then give up on somewhere between 60 and 80 percent completion.

With that in mind I was quite happy to assist Adam when he called me with an idea for a school project. He was supposed to do an architectural review of a building and he had chosen the Harkins Centerpoint. Since he was reviewing a theater he decided to do the project in video format. I'd like to think Adam called me first due to my artistic ability, but the fact that I owned a digital camcorder was probably a major selling point too.

Adam's a great guy to do these kinds of things with since he's fairly visual and has a good eye for shooting movies. The only real issue I had with doing projects with him is that he actually completes them, and that's a bit off putting for me. I'm not used to working that way.

I mostly served as camera man, key grip, and best boy. I think Adam did everything else. So without further ado, straight from 2001, the premier of... "11 pictures in a box"

Ana vs. J Random Nerd

At precisely 11:45 last night my phone started vibrating and then in that oh so subtle computer voice announced, "Ana's Birthday in 15 minutes".

"Oh yeah," I thought. "It has been a year".

Ana's last birthday was a celebration at the "Swinger's Room"(Resident's Center) of my then new condo. It was both a high point for us, and the beginning of the end, but this isn't that emo post. I've been asked by my numerous fans(Read: J.R.), "Hey, whatever happened with Ana? You never really finished that story." It's an odd thing because she was the one who originally prompted me to write what would go on to become this blog. I guess maybe that story is hard to finish in an amusing way since I already know how it ends, but in light of her birthday I thought I should share another short story about the day I first thought, "I think I'm in love." For those who need a refresher course, click here.

During our first semester in class together, as noted previously, there were countless blog-able moments from the interaction of the lovely Ana, and her nerdy classmates(myself included). It seemed like a day didn't go by that some guy tried to talk to her, and failed miserably. I was never quite sure if she saw it as much though because she was so quiet. It was quite rare to see her initiate a conversation or joke.

As class wound down on the final day the teacher handed out the standard teacher review sheets and left the classroom. I didn't have a pencil on me, but Ana had offered to let me use hers. I somewhat nervously sat next to her while we discussed our feelings on the class and teacher in general. It wasn't long before a classmate approached. I never really got his name, but I'm sure it was either Eugene or Urkel.

"Hey can I borrow your book?" he asked me as he approached without fear. The book he was eying was sitting on the desk in front of me.

"Oh that book? That's not my book" I set him up. "You'll have to ask Ana" I nodded to the Chilean Princess sitting to my left. It could have easily ended there. Ana could have given him the book, but if it was one thing time would show me it was that nothing was ever easy with this girl. Ana, who was 2 feet away didn't look up or pause from the novel she was writing in the "Suggestions to improve this class" box on her paper.

This should be good, I thought as I leaned back in my chair to watch the Nature Channel's Hunting Habits of the South African Lion that was about to unfold before me.

"Oh... um uh..." Eugene stammered, his confidence suddenly gone. He finally managed to eek out, "Can... can... I borrow your book?"

Ana didn't pause, waiver, or give any indication that she was aware of his existence. He looked at me in question, but I motioned for him to try again.

"Ana... can I borrow your book?" he repeated, this time reaching slowly towards it like a pigeon inching slowly towards that piece of your sandwich that you just dropped.

At this points she paused, completely straight faced, and looked up. "No" she said with a slight hint of irritation before refocusing on her work.

Eugene's mouth opened as if to say, "Oh", but nothing came out as he took a step backwards.

"I'm just kidding silly," she finally relented with a smile so bright that it could end all war and somehow solve world hunger. "Of course you can use my book."

I think I love this girl

Mom Realizes Nobody is Talking About Her

My family has been through 3 major hospital stays in 3 years, but last week, for the first time, it didn't involve Mom. I had gone up to the hospital every day for lunch, and then after work. By Friday night I was exhausted and decided to just stay home and relax a little. My dad was sort of cranky all week(To be expected when you have your chest cracked open), and didn't really seem to enjoy company anyhow.

Ruthie stopped by when she got home and told me she wanted to go wash her car. A little Ruthie time seemed like a good cure for exhaustion and I soon found myself driving a little white VW Beetle in search of a car wash that was still open. I eventually had to resort to Google maps on my phone. (It's no iPhone, but it gets the job done)

As we arrived at the self car wash my phone rang.
"Bueno! ¿Quien es?" I attempted Spanish.
"I'm at the hospital, Mom fell" my sister answered back.
"Fell?"
"Her knee is pretty messed up."
"Messed up bruised? Messed up torn ligaments/surgery?"
"She's in the ER now, they're going to X-Ray it"

My sister has a flare for over dramatizing things that I blame on years of watching Days of Our Lives(Why can't Bo and Hope just be happy?), but on the off chance that it was serious, I figured I should be there.

I quickly finished showing Ruthie the difference between the foaming brush and the high pressure rinse(Sexual joke left as an exercise to the reader). I'm going to go ahead and leave the "Cute Jewish Girl from a well-to-do family has no idea how to work a self service car wash" joke alone too. That one's a fish in a barrel and I'm holding a 12 gauge. I will say however, that she seemed surprised that it took dollar bills, of which she had... one. Maybe the joke is actually one about me being a poor kid and well versed in the workings of said car wash.

At any rate, despite our obvious cultural differences, we had a good time and then rushed home. I could go in to more detail, but I think we've all grown tired of my long winded "I love Ruthie" stories. I dropped her off and after a long drive found myself once again in the hospital.

I decided to first find my mom which wasn't a hard task since she was the belligerent angry lady in the ER. Apparently she had been getting water for my dad and the hospital's ice machine was leaking water all over the tile. Either she didn't notice, or saw an opportunity for a quick buck, but she took a pretty nasty spill. One thing I think we can all agree upon is that a Cuidado Piso Mojado sign would have helped the situation immensely.

When I found my mother she was bitching up a storm heatedly discussing the fairness of paying her co-pay when the hospital was clearly at fault. She didn't seem to be in too much pain to me, since her main focus was on being angry, and not being hurt. A few hours and an ace bandage later and we finally took her home.

The next day she called me from the shoe store so I'm fairly confident that the attention helped more than the ace bandage.

NerdMory Word(s): Let's talk about me for a while

Let's talk about me for a while
- statement, call for attention

1. A statement indicating that the current topic of conversation pales in comparison to one's self.

[ Origin: One evening around the dinner table, my parents were congratulating and fawning over either my brother or me due to some school accolade or achievement(Since it was school, it was probably me). A 7 year old(or thereabouts) Miranda, bored of the conversation, finally decided to add her 2 cents. "Hey Hey Hey" she shouted until everyone turned to look at her, "Let's talk about me for a while" ]

- antonyms
It's all about you today

Dad has impeccable timing

Monday afternoon an email arrived from our new project manager. Normally I won't bother reading emails from HR, Office Managers, or Project Managers unless someone says, "Hey, did you see what so-and-so's email said", but for some odd reason I went ahead and read it. The new guy is British, so I thought maybe there'd be something funny in there like the word cheerio or govna.

Much to my dismay there was no clever usage of breakfast cereals or references to political office. It was a meeting notice, and worse yet a meeting notice that was recurring every single day from 2:30-3. It was to be one of those, "What did you do today?" meetings which my people tend to hate.

I got up to march over to Sean's office and ask, "What the hell?" when my computer sounded a tone to inform me that I had received an instant message. It was from Sean and read:
"What the hell?"
I jumped up and made the 5 foot trek to his office.
"I know!"
"Did you notice that you have to list 5 things, including what your best moment was today, and what your worst moment was today?"
"I'm pretty sure my worst moment was when that email arrived. Do you think that's acceptable?"
"You should say, 'Rachel hugged me last night'"
"She did hug me last night, and it was awesome... are you spying on me? I don't think I can say that in the meeting anyhow. I don't want Laing to cry because he's jealous that I touched a real female."

After a good 45 minutes of bitching about how we didn't have 15 minutes to waste every day on some silly meeting we finally gave up and went back to myspacingwork.

That day just happened to be my parent's wedding anniversary. I'm sure someone told me how many years, but I've since forgotten. I'm going to venture a guess at 36 years though. My assumption is that my dad hadn't planned anything great and was, last minute, scrambling for an idea.

About an hour before the meeting I was looking for a way to get out of it when I got a call from my mom.

"Well... your father's had a heart attack."
"Where are you?"
"T-Bird"
"I'll be right there"

I was gone before anyone even noticed and going slightly above the recommended speed on my way up I-17. I eventually found my family in the waiting room of the ICU. By that time he was completely stable and still insisting that it was just "that spicy chicken sandwich" that he'd had for lunch, and not a heart attack.

Two separate doctors went over the situation with us. Everyone in the family nodded in agreement as though they had any idea as to what was going on. I for one was lost, but really didn't know what questions to ask so I just listened. One thing I understood was, "Quadruple Bypass, tomorrow". By this time we got to see my dad, who was laying on some sort of x-ray type table.

He was in good spirits and joking around about how he had done it just to get out of the anniversary. The doctor casually asked if he had any questions. I'd assume he expected the normal, "Is it going to hurt?" or something small like that. What the doctor didn't count on is my dad's endless quest for knowledge that even a heart attack can't slow.

I've joked with him by calling him Cliff Claven due to his savant like memorization of every show that has every played on either the history channel or discovery channel. Soon they were bringing heart models and discussing the exact names of which arteries were to be bypassed. After a lengthy amount of research/discussion, my dad finally agreed to the surgery.

Later in the evening he asked me how my day was. I told him about the meeting and he told me I should have gone.
"Nah, I was looking for an excuse to get out of it anyhow"

Today he was moved from the ICU to a normal bed and appears to be recovering well. The doctor described the operation as "text book".

A Shout Out

I wrote this entry a while back after receiving numerous complaints. "What about the time we did x. How come you didn't write about that?" Just as I was about to post it though, somebody else complained(And eventually went on to write her own blog entry for me I might add). I can't make it appear as though I'm bowing to the complaints, so I never posted it. I could go back and fix this up, but instead you get a half finished entry.


This blog is much like a door peephole in to my life. While things close to the front are over magnified(And oftentimes fish eyed), most other things are obscured and hazy. One of the more interesting things about keeping a blog has been all of the things that don't get published. Unpublished stories come in two formats; Some stories are written but never published(for various reasons), and some stories are just never written.

Of the latter, the majority remain so due to the fact that there is no story. It's not that there wasn't an event of some nature that was interesting, normally associated with a person equally interesting. It's that there's no story to it. For example, I may never write of the night that I went with Maya to see a sewage waterfall and then ate Chinese food. I'll probably never talk about Rebecca and her friend staying the night last week, or the recent trip to see Grindhouse with Kendall and her mantourage, or even watching Pan's Labyrinth with Laura.

When I say that there is no story, what I mean is that there was no drama, conflict, or embarrassment for me, which are the cornerstones of any post I make. For some odd reason, a "fun, normal night" just isn't blogable night.


So, with that said, for everyone who is sad that they haven't "made the blog", keep faith alive. I'm bound to do something with you around and then you'll be utterly disappointed in how an insignificant event is immortalized in an equally insignificant blog entry.

Nerd Word(s): Swing the bat

Swing the bat
- verb

1. To help a friend out, especially in relations with members of the opposite sex.

[ Origin: Unknown ]

- synonyms
1. H.B.O.(Help a Brotha Out)
2. Go to bat

- usage
1. "You gonna swing the bat for me with that new girl at your office?"
2. "Come on Kendall, I think your sister and I would hit it off well. Go to bat for me."
3. "Sean really swung the bat for me by calling in a favor. His buddy got me 2 grand off my new car"

Miranda's 21stPart 1 - Miranda Swings the Bat

Miranda's 21st birthday was divided in to two separate, but equally intoxicated events. The first was to be a gathering of friends and family at "Fox & Hound", a local bar. At that point in time my bar experience included a trip or two out with Stacey where I probably embarrassed her by clutching to her arm like a child to his mother's apron strings, and a few Nick at Night reruns of Cheers. If it has yet to be made apparent, I'm a bit uneasy in social situations, and in a social place like a bar I'm worse.

I arrived at the bar after most of the people had shown up. I did a quick headcount. Norm, Cliff, and Sammy were nowhere to be found, and it was unlikely that Miranda had invited my ex-girlfriend, so all of my bar experience was for not.

At this point in time, I also didn't know any of my sister's friends(Funny how my knowledge of bars and my sister's friends grew in parallel). I pulled up a bar stool and made conversation with my family and a few of the other people, but my family quickly left.

"So are any of your friends cute, single, and in to short nerds?" I asked my sister who was already quite inebriated.

"No, not that I can think of. There's Pat.... Shelley!" her face lit up as she paused to yell and wave to her friend who had entered the bar behind me. "Shelley" she said turning back to me as if in answer to my question.

I turned to see Shelley who was exceptionally cute, exceptionally tall, exceptionally out of my league, and to top it all off bore a striking resemblance to Stacey. I twisted back around ready to ask Mory what the she was thinking and then remember, Oh yeah, you're drunk.

"Come here Shelley, sit by me. This is my brother. Play him in checkers." Miranda said while busily arranging the checker board built in to the bar, "He's smart, and rich!"

I shook my head to dismiss her. I appreciated the talk up, but it would have been nicer had it been true. I nervously made small talk with Shelley while simultaneously getting crushed in checkers. Half way through the game my sister turned back around from the conversation she had been having to "help" yet again. "TELL MY BROTHER HE'S HOT" she yelled(Thinking she was whispering) in to Shelley's ear.

"You're hot" Shelley told me.
"I'm sorry" I responded, again shaking my head.

As the evening wound down people began to leave. Eventually there were only a few people left and everyone save Mory, Shelley and myself had gone to play darts. A minute or two after the split my sister's drunken eyes saw yet another opportunity and soon announced, "Oh, I'm going to go over there. I have to... um... tell... ah... um... Barbara something"

"Wow, that was awkward. I at least appreciate her trying" I said to relieve the weirdness.

We talked for a moment before Miranda returned.

"I forgot my beer" she said. She reached for the full glass that was sitting in front of me, but missed slightly and the glass tumbled over spilling beer down the front of my shirt and squarely in to my lap.

"Alright, thanks for the lovely evening. Happy Birthday Mory. It was nice meeting you Shelley"

NerdMory Word(s): Heart

Heart
- verb

1. To really like. Especially when intoxicated. Really.

[ Origin: Around the time of my sister's 21st birthday she decided she "hearted" everything ]

- synonyms
1. (In text message) <3

- usage
1. Drunk Girl #1: "I thought you were mad at me when you didn't call last night."
Drunk Girl #2: "No girl, I heart you"

2. "I totally heart that shirt"

Stacey Turns 27 Jesse Meets a P.A.P.Intro

Yeah yeah yeah, I know I'm falling behind, and unfortunately this isn't the normal story that you've come to know and lovetolerate. 98.3% of you will dismiss this one as whiny and emo, and the other 1.7%(Read: My mom) are now calling Miranda because you're "worried about Jesse". Don't worry, after I finish this story I'll try to get back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I've had 3 computers break in the past week(2 at work, 1 at home), and work has been killing me. Hopefully that's all behind me now and I can actually get back to the blog. Sorry for the delays. With any luck, I'll have something amusing to write about soon. This is an entry I've been not writing for a while. I've wanted to write it, but every time I sat down to do so it just didn't come out.

I thought I'd try my hand at writing something more serious. Unfortunately I just don't think that's me. It didn't come out well, but I don't think anymore effort on my part will change that.

I'm going to break with tradition and explain the obscure reference in the title(that nobody would have gotten anyhow). Stacey and I used to watch the old 60's show "The Avengers" together on DVD. Each episode had a brief summary beforehand that always shared the same format. For example:

Steed is shot full of holes
Emma sees stars

There's a part 2 coming... hopefully soon.

Stacey Turns 27 Jesse Meets a P.A.P.Part 1

"Turn around, you went the wrong way" I said as she picked up the phone. I didn't even wait for the customary "Hello".

"I wasn't sure where I was supposed to turn" she replied with a laugh.

I knew she would take the wrong turn, which was why I was downstairs waiting for her. It'd been almost a year since I'd seen Stacey, but some things don't really change. I still knew her better than I knew myself in some ways, and I'm sure the reverse would hold true.

For some inexplicable reason I'd offered to take her out for her birthday. In fact, I'd gone a step further and gotten two tickets to Ballet Arizona's production which included a piece from George Balanchine, her favorite choreographer. It was the birthday that Jesse from five years ago wouldn't have been thoughtful enough to make. It was the birthday that Jesse from now would like to kick him square in the ass for not thinking of.

I hopped in to the passenger seat as she pulled around and found her smiling back at me with a quick, "Hi".

Stacey has two, almost indistinguishable lines on either side of her smile. They're the only marks on an otherwise perfect face; they're the only sign that 10 years have passed since I met her. These "laugh lines" are so small that nobody else would notice them, but I do. They could be described as blemishes, but to me they're a mark created from years of smiling, years of happiness. They are a visual sign of who she is. They are beauty.

At one point in time I would have liked to take some of the credit for these lines, but I knew in my heart that they were not my doing. Her's is a happiness not dependant on external things. It's something I've always been simultaneously jealous of and attracted to.

I snapped back to reality as we pulled up to my condo. There was time before the ballet so we went up stairs to catch up. Within moments I fell back in to a familiar role. Old jokes were told, laughs were had, memories were reminisced. I love hanging out with her. Why did I wait 10 months to call her? I wondered to myself.

After an introduction to the neighbors, who were dying to meet her, we headed off for lunch. I had planned to take her to Postino's, a small sandwich/wine place. It was a favorite of the twins, and somewhat hidden. I knew that Stacey would like it, and was surprised when she said, "Postino's? Tara and I go there all the time." Oh yeah. Just because we haven't hung out in the past 3 years doesn't mean she's been at home knitting.

We decided instead to go to a sandwich shop close to the ballet as we didn't want to show up late. Lunch was great and we were soon on our way.

"So you're going to spend half the summer in Europe?" I asked on the car ride to the Orpheum, continuing our conversation from lunch. "Why so long?"

"Well, I'm going to a wedding in Italy, and one in France. I didn't think there was much point in coming back in between"

"That makes sense, who's getting married?" I knew an answer I wasn't looking for was coming, but I asked the question anyhow.

"My boyfriend has a friend who's..."

The words hit with an unexpected weight. I knew Stacey had someone in her life now. She has a way of letting me know without flat out telling me. It's an uncharacteristically sensitive approach to my feelings. Whether on purpose or not, it's something that is greatly appreciated.

It wasn't that there was someone that surprised me as much as the usage of the word boyfriend. In 3 years, she'd never used that word to describe somebody and had even gone so far as to protest when I had used it to describe someone she was "just dating."

"Oh, I guess I should have turned back there" I commented, trying to not seem affected even though the realization that I had missed my turn came almost a mile late.

We got to the ballet with plenty of time to spare, and discussed the only other time we had been before. I believe she had taken me last time because she needed to go for some school project. We couldn't exactly establish all of the details, but the one thing we both agreed on was that I had upset her in some way.

"I think you were making fun of the dancers and wouldn't shut up."
"I thought I was making fun of the people in the audience and wouldn't shut up."
"No, I got mad at you for that the time we went to..."

With that in mind it was my intention to make up for the past failings, and I think that for the most part I succeeded.

After the ballet we went back to my house, then later out to dinner. After spending the majority of the day together she decided it was time to go. I was quite happy as I walked her downstairs to her car. The day had gone better than I had thought it might, and I again felt a connection to a person who's had a major impression on my life.

As I closed the door to her car and watched her drive away I felt a slight hole in the pit of my stomach, a slight loneliness that I had forgotten I could have. Oh Yeah... That's why I don't hang out with her more often.

I paused for a moment to let the 10+ hours I had just spent with her sink in before finally turning to go back into my building.

My condo was an 11 floor elevator ride away, but I didn't end up making it home for quite some time...

Stacey Turns 27 Jesse Meets a P.A.P.Part 2

As this is a 2 part story, you should probably read part 1 and the intro(See below) first. Otherwise you'll be all confused and it won't make sense. Not that it's going to make sense anyhow, but you stand a better chance if you read those parts first.

The weekend that I was planning on taking Stacey to the Ballet, Ruth and Rachel's friend Bridget was in town from New York. I didn't really stress that fact because:

A) I had bigger things on my mind

B) My twin time had fallen to an all time low. They had both become busy with work, boyfriends, and family things. At the very least, they had become too busy to make me be social, which is a task unto its own.

The Saturday evening before the ballet I found myself with a slight bit of insomnia. I tossed and turned for a long while before finally falling asleep. Just as I did, "RING RING RING" the doorbell violently brought me back to a place I had spent the past few hours trying to leave.

Rachel. It had to be Rachel. Ruth, or any sane person would only ring once. A glance at the clock as I searched for my pants in the dark told me that she had probably been out. The odds were that she was slightly intoxicated. I've never even been buzzed in my life or had more than a sip of alcohol, but I know for a fact that I can hold my liquor better than Ruth and Rachel combined.

"Hi Rachel" I said as I opened the door and she moved in for a hug.
"Bridget likes you" she whispered in to my ear, "She wants to cuddle with you"
"I'm sure she does Rachel. You can tell her to come hop in bed with me" I said dismissively. "That's where I'll be."

It should be noted that Rachel seems to have taken my current lack of sexual exploits as her personal fix-er-up-er project. Maybe her and my mom could form a club.

---

I paused for a moment to let the 10+ hours I had just spent with Stacey sink in before finally turning to go back into my building.

With my head down in contemplative thought I said goodnight to the doorman as I past. I then looked up to see the 11-L gang exiting the elevator I was bound for.

"Come on, we're going to Four Peaks, and you're coming too" Rachel told me while giving me the, "Everything okay?" look.

"I don't know, I've had a busy..." I began to protest. Rachel is either quite astute at reading me and making me do what I should do rather than what I feel like doing, or she's just bossy and gets her way. Whether the former or latter, I soon relented.

"We'll all ride in Eldad's car" she said.

I put my five and a half years of college engineering math skills to work and realized 6 people in a Honda Accord wasn't going to work. I didn't have to check my driver's license or bank statement to remember that I'm not 17, and can afford the gas.

"My car's already up here" I said. I felt like the drive would do me some good anyhow, and it's always best to have an escape route in the event that plans change unexpectedly, or I feel the need to perform grand larceny. "I'll drive too"

"Bridget will go with you" Rachel motioned Bridget towards me. As Bridget turned to look, Rachel gave me the "Go get em tiger" head nod and wink from behind.

I had briefly met Bridget on Friday when we discussed my view and her raspy voice. Everything else I knew of her was from a discussion with Ruth 3 months prior while she was showing me all of her friend's myspace pages. My memory was vague, but the thing that I remembered most was that Bridget likes to party. Her page includes the description, "Party girl and P.A.P looking for a sponsor", what appears to be a legit picture of her and Puff Daddy shaking hands, and the profile song, "Party All the Time". But it wasn't just "Party All the Time", it was the club remix.

I would later be told that P.A.P. stands for "Park Avenue Princess.", and with that in mind "looking for a sponsor" means, "looking for a sugar daddy."

To say that I was a little skeptical of our social compatibility would be an understatement. Bridget is a cute girl, but aside from my love of cute girls, I felt there would be no common ground to find, and was worried about a possibly awkward car ride. I couldn't have been more wrong though as I realized once again that my first impressions are often drastically wrong. Bridget has a charm that rivals that of the twins, and a head on her shoulders that backs the charm up. We spent the entire car ride discussing everything from software development to ex's.

I spent the majority of the night at Four Peaks talking to Rachel about my day, and other goings on. There were about 8 people there total, some I knew well, some I did not. The evening was great. New jokes were made. New laughs were had. New moments were shared. Things were unfamiliar, but in a good way. After a day of remembering the past, not knowing what was coming next was refreshing.

By the time my head hit the pillow I was exhausted. My day had started at 9am and ended after midnight without a moment's rest. There would later be time for contemplation and analyzation, but for that night there was just sleep.

I apologize if the reference to Puff Daddy was wrong. Is it now just Puffy, or P-Diddy? I'm so out of the loop. One of you young whipper snappers feel free to correct me.

NBA Action: It's FANtastic

Anyone who knows me, reads this blog, or has seen me walking down the street knows my feelings on the Phoenix Suns and Steve Nash in particular. My crush on him is rivaled only by my crush on the twins, and it took two of them to even come close to my feelings for the small Canadian genius.

With that in mind, I was obviously a little upset yesterday when the league decided to suspend Stoudemire and Diaw after they got up off the bench because Robert Horry took a cheap shot at Nash. I'm not going to retell the story as it's all over the news, but basically San Antonio played dirty, and they got a boost because of it.

Everyone who's followed this story has commented that we should take out one of their guys in a dirty play. Normally I'd say, "Turn the other cheek", but in this case it seems like the league is condoning that kind of action.

On a totally unrelated, and apparently obscure note, azcentral is reporting the following story:

The Phoenix Suns announced today that they had signed Scottsdale resident Mike Tyson to a 10 day contract.

Says Phoenix coach Mike D'Antoni, "His ball handling is a bit weak, but I think you'll find his defensive abilities on Duncan... striking."

When asked for his thoughts Tyson said, "I'm just biting at the chance to get out there and show the world what I can do again"

My boy Sean N over at www.blarrg.com even got an advanced picture of Tyson in his uni.

At any rate, Sun's in 6.

Nerd Word(s): 60%

60%
- Verb, State of Completion

1. The exact point of any project that interest in said project is lost.

[ Origin: The word comes from Sean's tendency to lose interest in any project just after the half way point, although the same holds true even more so for me ]

- usage
1. "Yeah, I've been meaning to get back on that project"
"Gonna 60% that one too eh?"

2. "Man, you really 60%'d that 'car restoration' that you were so hyped about"

- examples
I have over the years done the following:

• Written half a screen play that was shelved when the main idea was used in another movie that was released.
• Built a working hovercraft in my parent's garage that actually floated and would support a person all working on a gas powered blower. Unfortunately I never made the propulsion system
• Had a band that practiced a total of 3 times
• Written a video game from scratch that had a beginning, but no ending

Dunkquest

"Man, I used to have mad hops for a short white boy" I told Sean the other day at work while discussing the playoffs and basketball in general.

"Could you ever dunk?" I ask. Sean is about 6'2, and used to be that athletic skinny skateboarding kid(emphasis on the used to be). The only real thing he's got going against him is that he's Canadian, and everyone knows Canadians can't dunk.

"I never really tried" he responds, "I gave up on basketball after eighth grade". Sean went to school with Richard Jefferson, who now starts at forward for the New Jersey Nets, and informs me that upon showing up to try out for the team and seeing RJ dunking he gave up on hoops.

"I always thought I'd dunk some day" I tell him. "I think I was about 8 to 10 inches shy even at my best though, and then I stopped growing"

We soon both, half jokingly, decided that our goal for the summer should be to train to dunk the ball. Tuesday I, still half jokingly, ran the idea by my mom while watching the Sun's game.

"I'm gonna dunk the ball this summer mom"
"Oh honey, you can't"
"Why not? You said I can do anything I put my mind to" I ask with a feigned ignorance.
"You're just too short"

By Wednesday we had dropped the "half jokingly" and were both getting serious. We went to Walmart for lunch and got jump ropes and I got a basketball. We stopped by a court and shot it around for a second before heading back to work.

As the day progressed I had told a few people, "At the end of this summer, I, Jesse B, will dunk a basketball" Soon, like good little nerds, we had both sat down and started doing some calculations and measurements. Apparently I have a 6'10" reach, which means I need roughly a 44" vertical leap. My current vertical is about 22", and for comparisons sake, Michael Jordan had a vertical leap of 42". I soon proclaimed, "At the end of this summer, I, Jesse B, will dunk a basketball, on a nine foot hoop"

Just to give you an idea of the kind of results to expect, I've got a video of Vince Carter jumping over a 7'2 guy in what many consider the greatest dunk ever. Except in our case, the part of the 7'2 guy will be played by our friend J.R.



We're now on day 1 of "Dunkquest", and I've already learned a few interesting facts:

• 99/100 guys will try to prove that he can jump and touch something given the challenge. You could tell a 94 year old blind man in a wheel chair that he can't grab the rim, and he'd go for it without reservation.
• 99/100 men, after not jumping as high as they thought they could, will tell you that they could in fact dunk on a 10 foot rim at some point in their life.
• 97/100 men are in fact, liars.

Sean's as pumped as I am, so you should probably read his post too:
http://www.blarrg.com/

Rose finally "makes" the blog

I have, on occasion, asked a few different people to ghostwrite an entry on my blog. It usually comes about from someone saying, "You should write about the time...", to which I normally respond, "You write it and I'll post it". Well, apparently tired of the lack of mentions in my blog, Rose got it together and wrote the following. It should be noted that I had planned on writing this story at some point in time, but Rose did a better job than I would have anyhow.

I had just broken up with Stacey (you may remember her from such posts as Vegas: 2003) after a 6 year relationship. I was in a somewhat delicate state (to put it mildly) and I was seeking comfort in the warm, welcoming arms of one of my closest, nicest, most beautiful, special, caring friends, Rose. You probably won’t remember her from too many posts because we don’t have the drama. Anyway, I took Rose to one of my favorite places, Pei Wei for dinner. We placed our order and began looking around for a table. If you have ever been to the Big PW you know that some of the tables (especially those built for two) are really close together. On this particular occasion the these were the only tables left, so we sat down and began to wait for our food. I’m going to say I had the Honey Seared Shrimp. And that’s all fine and well, but here’s where the story gets weird.

Rose and I were soon joined by neighbors to our right. They sat down and immediately began having a conversation, so we didn’t pay them much mind, an act we thought was mutual, but were soon to find out was not. I was telling Rose about how hard I thought it was to meet people (read: women) and sharing my feelings about the “loss” of Stacey. Rose, to her credit, was being quite understanding and sympathetic considering that she had a major crush on me for a long period of time and was Stacey’s best friend until we started dating. Thank God all of our drama is now in the past, lest I would be forced to regale you with the banal minutiae of our early relationship…in which I pretty much come off like a jackass.

Rose was telling me something like, “Don’t worry, you’ll probably find someone, but you know what? Even if you don’t, we all die alone anyway, so it doesn’t matter. I mean sure, it’s nice to be with someone, but you can’t take them with you…well, you can, but generally the law and society frown on murder-suicides. That’s not how you want to be remembered.” Now let me say a little something about Rose. She uses humor to cope in situations. It’s taken me years to break her down to a level where she will actually communicate what her problem is instead of just using sarcasm to wear me down. So she said this in jest to lighten the mood. And here’s where it all went downhill….

One of the women at the table next to us, turned to Rose and said, “No one ever has to die alone. I’m a spiritual person and a counselor of sorts and I can tell you that no one ever ever has to die alone. There is always hope and people to be there for you.” Rose then tried to stammer out something about “just kidding”, but the women pressed on. “You don’t have to despair, if you ever need anything, I want you to take this card. You can call me any time.” She handed Rose an index card with a name, number and some message scrawled across the bottom. Then she and her companion left. After she left, Rose and I looked at each other for a good 3 minutes without speaking, so great was our shock.

Rose was the first to speak, “What the hell just happened here? And why the hell was she talking to me, you’re the one that’s gonna die alone. I still have prospects.”

“I don’t know what just happened here, but what does that card say?”

Rose looked at the card and said... “I can’t quite make it out, but I think it says, “Shamanic Transitions”. We just stared at each other for a moment in awe. “What the hell are 'Shamanic Transitions'?”, Rose asked and looked to me for guidance.

“How the hell would I know?”

We sort of made some half-assed attempts at conversation for the rest of our meal, but I think we were a little shaken by the experience. And to this day, I cannot enter a Pei Wei without seruptiously checking for the crazies and attempting to avoid them.