This last weekend I was reminded of an interesting day from my past. Some of the details surrounding the day are hazy, some are not. What I do remember was that we were all down at Heritage Park engaged in a heated pickup basketball game. What I don't remember is who was all there...but trust me, Phil Jordan WAS there. I'm not sure why I remember him being there. Was it because I sent one of his shots 5 rows back into the bleachers? Maybe. Was it because after said shot Phil faked an ankle injury, halting play? Could have been that too. More than likely it was what happened shortly after our game stopped. Phil, in a drastic effort to shift the attention off of his clearly fake injury and the shot he just had blocked 5 ROWS DEEP, noticed two women approaching. After eyeing them up and down, he pronounced the following. "DAMN, baby got BACK!".
As the women got closer, we recognized the new object of Phil's affection. She was a classmate of ours, and we all knew she was spoken for (google "B-Dawg").
Update: A fellow contributor sent me this link today at work, to give me an update for Phil. I'm told that she may be available.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
In My Brand New Effort to Become a Ladies Man, I Need a Role Model
I sat at my desk today listening to, for the sake of anonymity, we’ll call her "Oxygen Waster". Oxygen Waster calls up about once every three months. As most of you know, I sell stuff. Oxygen Waster certainly knows that because she has bought stuff from me. Each time she calls, our conversations become more bizarre, never having anything to do with investments. Example - The purpose of Oxygen Waster’s call today was to instruct me to put in her file for our company to conduct a full, private autopsy of her body. She feels her ex-husband is poisoning her and he has all of her doctors, judges, lawyers, and the Saginaw County policeman on his payroll. This has caused her to fire three lawyers, yell at a judge and be held in contempt of court, and question her doctors although I’m guessing she has no secondary education. As I zone-out listen, I come to the realization that I need to change. Mrs. Oxygen Waster feels very comfortable calling me and discussion her personal issues....how can I get the exact opposite of that? Becoming a ladies man, that’s how!!! So say goodbye to Hammer as you knew him...hello to SLEDGEHAMMER? No, I’m not going to change my nickname like Nauss did upon reaching high school (google "transformation from house to a.c.").
So I need a role model. If you are reading this and thinking, "I would make a perfect role model", reconsider. You aren’t (Thompson, I’m looking at you).
I believe I have found a worthy mentor, but I want your suggestions. Is there someone else I should analyze? Or could I just pull it off....could I become Gob Bluth?
BACKGROUND:
Gob Bluth - Magician. Favorite holiday - Spring Break. Briefly married a woman after an orgy of escalating bets. F-cks away his family’s problems. Sleeps with his brother’s girlfriend/mothers arch-nemesis to once again save the family. Dates a Spanish actress. Assists family in scoring dope. Wear’s expensive suits. Speaks loudly and decisively.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Hi! Can I sleep here?
Well, looks like we've all found other things to commit to in recent years besides thrice-weekly meetings at Main Street or Dead Creek. I myself have been, shall we say, buring the candle at both ends. In addition to working four days a week and trying to pursue my senior research interests at school, I have felt the need to add as much as I can into my schedule, and then more.
"Jolene, you should join our production of Footloose, in Bay City, 45 minutes one-way, taking away 5 hours of your day 5 times a week....and we don't pay you!" ME - "Okay."
"JoJoSan - would you like to dog-sit next weekend for me? We'd like to offer you a place to relax, and you can watch our dogs at the same time." ME - "Uh-huh, okay." Can't say no to a professor.
"Jolene - can you maybe teach a class through our fitness center this year?"
"Jolene - would you like to be my choreographer for upcoming productions?"
and on....and on....
This creates certain overlaps in time commitments where I have succeeded in letting down at least one person in every category, and the over-frying of the brain cells, resulting in forgetfulness and the collapse of any organizational skills I once had. Let me bring to light one example.
Friday night, fourth of July weekend..... I'm dog-sitting. I've brought all my books, and I plan on relaxing with some really cheap wine from Meijer's. But before that, I've got to watch "The Last Emperor". I'm halfway through and think, forget it, I'm going to bed. Let the dogs out and in, lock up everything, and try to step outside quickly to check that I've locked my car. As I go to open the front door, I notice that it won't open. The deadbolt is not thrown, and I don't remember touching the bottom lock on the doorknob, but I must have! I turn the bottom lock, and the door opens. This leads me (falsely) to believe that said door is now unlocked. I walk out, shut the door behind me, and come back a second later to find that I'm LOCKED OUT OF THE HOUSE at 11:45PM on a weekend where everyone is gone on vacation. I get frantic, panic a little, and try the door again. It gives a little. I try throwing my weight into it. I think I actually can break it down, but that might be better saved as a last resort. I scramble to find a key in the darkness under the welcome mat, hoping that my fingers don't run into any earwigs. The dogs are barking relentlessly on the inside - their dog-intuition knows something is wrong. No key is found. I frantically run to the next door, leading into the garage. Smash! I have just flattened an extension of a rain-gutter-flow-pipe thing. No luck with that door. Here I am stuck outside wearing sweats and flipflops. I have NOTHING. My car keys are inside with the house keys. My cell phone is inside. My purse (and money and ID) are inside. The list with phone numbers and instructions is inside. I look around and see a light on in the house across the street. I run over. Ding-dong, she comes to the door. Upon seeing me, she refuses to open the door but rather yells from the inside, asking how she can help me. I start yelling back my story. She reluctantly lets me in. We make a few phone calls to someone whose name I remember seeing on the list. No answer. I want to call the cops or locksmith, but she tells me that they won't help b/c I can't prove that I belong in that house. She convinces me that we should try more in the morning. I end up sleeping in her son's childhood bedroom. Very awkward.
In the morning we end up trying a few futile efforts to get in and finally enlist the neighbors down the street. Dad and Son come and take off a window in the back, pop it out, and I crawl in and unlock the door. I finished screwing the window back on later and thought about the damage, which also included a nice split in the wood of the door frame. That could have been there, but I at least made it worse when I put my shoulder into the door in a moment of panic.
Then, one of the dogs accidentally bit me when we were playing, I got a horrible migraine the next day and almost threw up but had to make it through play practice, arrived late for work the next day b/c I forgot I was subbing for someone, and then received a low score on my evaluation the next day. From now on, my answer is no.
"Jolene, you should join our production of Footloose, in Bay City, 45 minutes one-way, taking away 5 hours of your day 5 times a week....and we don't pay you!" ME - "Okay."
"JoJoSan - would you like to dog-sit next weekend for me? We'd like to offer you a place to relax, and you can watch our dogs at the same time." ME - "Uh-huh, okay." Can't say no to a professor.
"Jolene - can you maybe teach a class through our fitness center this year?"
"Jolene - would you like to be my choreographer for upcoming productions?"
and on....and on....
This creates certain overlaps in time commitments where I have succeeded in letting down at least one person in every category, and the over-frying of the brain cells, resulting in forgetfulness and the collapse of any organizational skills I once had. Let me bring to light one example.
Friday night, fourth of July weekend..... I'm dog-sitting. I've brought all my books, and I plan on relaxing with some really cheap wine from Meijer's. But before that, I've got to watch "The Last Emperor". I'm halfway through and think, forget it, I'm going to bed. Let the dogs out and in, lock up everything, and try to step outside quickly to check that I've locked my car. As I go to open the front door, I notice that it won't open. The deadbolt is not thrown, and I don't remember touching the bottom lock on the doorknob, but I must have! I turn the bottom lock, and the door opens. This leads me (falsely) to believe that said door is now unlocked. I walk out, shut the door behind me, and come back a second later to find that I'm LOCKED OUT OF THE HOUSE at 11:45PM on a weekend where everyone is gone on vacation. I get frantic, panic a little, and try the door again. It gives a little. I try throwing my weight into it. I think I actually can break it down, but that might be better saved as a last resort. I scramble to find a key in the darkness under the welcome mat, hoping that my fingers don't run into any earwigs. The dogs are barking relentlessly on the inside - their dog-intuition knows something is wrong. No key is found. I frantically run to the next door, leading into the garage. Smash! I have just flattened an extension of a rain-gutter-flow-pipe thing. No luck with that door. Here I am stuck outside wearing sweats and flipflops. I have NOTHING. My car keys are inside with the house keys. My cell phone is inside. My purse (and money and ID) are inside. The list with phone numbers and instructions is inside. I look around and see a light on in the house across the street. I run over. Ding-dong, she comes to the door. Upon seeing me, she refuses to open the door but rather yells from the inside, asking how she can help me. I start yelling back my story. She reluctantly lets me in. We make a few phone calls to someone whose name I remember seeing on the list. No answer. I want to call the cops or locksmith, but she tells me that they won't help b/c I can't prove that I belong in that house. She convinces me that we should try more in the morning. I end up sleeping in her son's childhood bedroom. Very awkward.
In the morning we end up trying a few futile efforts to get in and finally enlist the neighbors down the street. Dad and Son come and take off a window in the back, pop it out, and I crawl in and unlock the door. I finished screwing the window back on later and thought about the damage, which also included a nice split in the wood of the door frame. That could have been there, but I at least made it worse when I put my shoulder into the door in a moment of panic.
Then, one of the dogs accidentally bit me when we were playing, I got a horrible migraine the next day and almost threw up but had to make it through play practice, arrived late for work the next day b/c I forgot I was subbing for someone, and then received a low score on my evaluation the next day. From now on, my answer is no.
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