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"