Too Late To Apologize

Where the hell have I been for two weeks? And two weeks, eff that, it’s been more like a month since I posted anything more than links and funny photos… my loyal readers must be so upset with me. Duly so, I’m afraid. My energy lately has been split three ways: work has lately been consuming about 80% of my waking hours; marathon training is another 10%; which only leaves 10% for the rest of my life: the Marriage, Quality Time, making new friends, maintaining long-distance relationships with old friends, attempting to define the rest of my life professionally… ON TOP of the standard chores of cooking, cleaning, laundry, collecting toe nails in a bag in the closet, reorganizing my stuffed animals, and attempting to teach math to blind kids using flash cards (which is about the least productive thing I’ve ever done – they just won’t learn!)

Now you might ask about my recent birth on Facebook and question my fidelity to Wyltie here. Well, as I said, my ENERGY is going to the list of minutiae above, which does take about 95% of my TIME. The other 5% of my time, when I’ve got no energy, is when I spend time twiddling my thumbs playing Scrabulous and updating my status message to whatever witticism strikes me as fleetingly suitable.

Wyltie, on the other hand, is not forgiving when I just type and ramble or link random sh!t. Wyltie takes energy. Plus, I know for a fact that you people are more likely to sniff out the latest Facebook updates rather than come here & look for posts – mainly because a) I update FB more often; and b) you get the deets on everyone in your virtual universe all on one page, as opposed to having to flip through to various blogs. Believe me, I understand the convenience of that. So Wyltie pays off less than FB does – people are much more likely to write on my “Wall” (what the fuck kind of concept design is that? who do you know that has a wall anywhere that other people write on? wall-writing is for rest-stop bathrooms and prisons, not social gatherings, whether they’re virtual or in meatspace) than they are to leave comments here on the blog. Why? Presumably it takes more effort to comment here (not same page as in FB), plus there’s a psychological thing about actually being able to see YOUR comment on the person’s page rather than just see Wyltie’s little comment-count thinger go up a digit – you feel secure your message will be seen / heard by at least the intended recipient (for the record, I’m just nerdy enough to have Wyltie email me automatically any time someone posts a comment, so invariably, I do see them… I don’t always respond, but am trying to get better at that part too), but you probably think maybe AngelSlut22@yahoo.com will see it and check out your profile & want to #$meet&* you in the @#Taco Bell Drive-Thru$*& and call you a #$*343#ugly woman@@ and twist your %$*nipple$&$ at a medium pace. Don’t steal that, by the way… I’m the first FIRST FIRST to ever just put the word I’m censoring in the middle of the usual censor characters. One point for me in the Creativity column, one in the Genius column (come on, it’s Awesome), and one in the First Nerd To Claim It column.

So, it may be too late to apologize (love that song, mainly because of its immense popularity in New Zealand whilst there for our honeymoon), but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for not having the ENERGY to be here as often as I promised I would be. Cry me a #*fucking&@ river. (Told you. Awesome.)

Now, the update:
1) work is busy busy busy but I still like it almost every day;
2) training is going well – did 13.3 miles on Sunday in 50-60mph winds during the run over the Golden Gate, leg is definitely sore (ACL inflamed) but should mend with time;
3) R and the Marriage are doing well – though I’m already panicking a little about the first anniversary present because I can’t afford to mess that up (TOLD YOU IT WAS AWESOME);
4) acting is not happening so much – see reasons 1-3 above, but I DID go to a Chess club a few weeks ago in the interest of remaining social among my people (Nerds);
5) family is doing okay – sister had her car totaled by some old woman in San Diego who probably shouldn’t have been driving, but at least sister wasn’t in it at the time and everyone is okay, parents seem to be doing well as Dad gets closer to surgery on neck/back and Mom finishes up her Associate’s degree at Penn State, seeing the Iowa clan in a month down in LA but they seem good (loony, but good) as always, in-laws sound healthy & happy which means I can’t be totally screwing up the Marriage, and there is no movement on the needle that measures Pregnancy, which means there will be no new Hansens in the world any time soon (thank you drospirenone!)

This post is mainly about getting you up-to-date, but in the interest of getting back to the point of this whole Wyltie thing, I pose you, dear Reader, with a question: do you think there is space on, say, the Food Network for a loveable, approachable, slightly rotund & balding male chef in his late twenties (it’d take me a year or two to get through Culinary School & actually have some kitchen experience) who cannot only demonstrate his skills in the kitchen, but that can do so whilst also causing you to laugh hysterically? That is to say, if Rachel Ray were funny, but at the expense of being able to show you each and every detail behind her recipes, would you watch her?

‘What a weird question… why do you ask?’ Because, dammit, I want out of this corporate stuff (still like what I’m doing but it’s not who I am) and I want to be on stage in some way. Given the ‘slightly rotund & balding’ qualifications, I may never make it in a completely dramatic or comedic way, so I have to find my own niche, and I’m considering that maybe it’s the one-two punch of Comedy & Cuisine. The little bit of stand-up material I’ve been writing (yes, I’ve been working on it) has almost zero to do with food, but that’s only because I haven’t been focusing in that way. (Can’t shoot a deer in the woods if you’re aiming at the ducks on the pond… unless you’re really really bad at hunting… or if you’re Dick Cheney.) I think, I THINK, that I could make cooking funny. Or food funny, or some combination thereof. Or hell, I could just bring my comedy into the kitchen – Would you still laugh at Richard Pryor if he had done his Africa routine whilst whipping up a Sour Cream Cheesecake? Probably, because it’s damn funny. But I want to know what you think. So tell me already.

I’m in Training…

Today’s Taper Run

Feel good today. Neighborhood smells like laundry.

A Little Link Crazy…

I don’t usually embed videos or do lots of linking. Not because it’s wrong or because it’s not useful to share this stuff with people, but mainly because I don’t find a lot of really good stuff most of the time. Today just happened to be a rare day in which EVERYTHING I found was AWESOME.

First one: this guy should win an award. Not a big prize or anything, but some notification that he is in fact awesome at all things beer pong.

She’s F’N Matt Damon

“When I told you I was f*&^ing Matt Damon, I was f*^&ing Matt Damon…”

Woman is from Jersey City, but Product is from Heaven

Parker Is My Hero

R can complain all she wants, but at least I don’t: a) roll around on the floor; b) hurt myself with the sheer gas velocity; or c) have a friend put a webcam on me.

You know you’re intrigued.

Did I Mention…

… I’m RUNNING A MARATHON IN MAY.

Just thought you should know. Maybe you’ll help me keep accountable to training for it. I still plan on publishing my training calendar here, but I need to figure out a proper way to do it. (Anyone with hints/suggestions, let me know.)

This is the marathon I signed up for (had to change from the Big Sur Marathon because of Choi’s stateside wedding reception):
www.theave.org

Trail-ish, lots of redwoods… and it’s in Humboldt County, which is famous for… well, you look it up. ;-)

MQotW – Work Edition Vol 1. Issue 4

If I Listened Long Enough To You I’d Find A Way To Believe That It’s All True,

Last edition’s quote was: “How do you like that? The guy gets laid more times dead than I do alive.”

The correct answer is Weekend at Bernie’s. Starred Terri Kiser, Jonathan Silverman (who’s less entertaining than his hot sister Sarah), and Andrew McCarthy. It also starred the idea that Staten Islanders are too stupid to recognize when their dead neighbor has been tied to & escorted around town by two New York hooligans, who are pretending he’s still alive so that they can prevent their own death. My personal belief is that this idea is WAY funnier than any of the actual actors, and it should be remade over & over.

Last edition’s winner, from the sunny city of Venice Beach, is none other than Stephanie “I’m Dating A Guy With The Same First Name As My Brother And It’s NOT Unsettling For Anyone In The Family” Hansen, who is dating a guy who also happens to be named Brian, who also happens to be from Pennsylvania, and who ALSO happens to have a sister named Stephanie, and who ALSO is a super-nice, clean-cut guy with a good head on his shoulders & aspirations to be an actor of some repute. Not ill repute. Healthy, desirable repute. (He also happens to like it when people correctly use the noun “repute.”) Aside from her eerie-but-eerie-without-being-unsettling-because-we’re-all-too-afraid-to-be-unsettled-by-it taste in gentleman suitors, Stephanie has many characteristics that make her one of the most unique denizens of the City of Angels. See, she grew up in a small town in rural Pennsylvania, then went to college in Boston, and moved to L.A. without the slightest hope of becoming an entertainer. Also, she is not a trust-fund baby, has only all-natural facial structure, has never even been on a surf board, and only has a passing fancy for gay men who hide their homosexuality behind a thinly-veiled drug habit/Woody Allen obsession. ‘Why would one move to L.A. without being any of those things, and without wanting to be at least marginally involved in ‘the business’?’ Good question, Reader, but please refrain to using the phrase ‘the business’, as it has several connotations of ill repute (!), as in “I just gave that toilet ‘the business'”, or “The kid has ‘the business’ in his diaper,” or “My wife refuses to give me ‘the business’ during American Idol” (note that the first two connotations are poo-related, and the third one is NOT). Sadly, I cannot answer your question, Reader. Nor can she. Neither of us can even BUY a clue as to why she would CHOOSE, without ANY of the usual reasons, to move to one of the dirtiest, smoggiest, smelliest, fakest, shallowest, greediest, most dangerous, traffic-jammed metropolises in the entire country. I stand before you, Readers, stumped, baffled & bemused. I cannot conceive of any reason that she chose to live there. Although I hear the burritos are pretty good. So her prize this week: a feasible, believable answer to that question that she can finally employ, instead of sputtering something about beaches & umbrella drinks: “Because the burritos are good, and I love me some burritos.” (This is not even remotely true.)

Last edition’s runner-up, a dear friend from my days at Penn State, Seth “Ballroom Blitz” Rohrbach, is known for his flagrant flamenco, his ravishing rumba, and the always lascivious La Bamba. We met in a class on Alliterative Dance, which he passed with flying colors, and I failed – while my command of the alliterative dance names is strong, his mightily milky Milkshake and his laughable Lawn Mower outshined everyone else in the class and totally screwed up the curve, leaving me to simply write about the experience (and hope that people know what alliteration means). Blitz, as he’s known to his fancy friends, is currently attempting to publish a flip-book of his dances. This is particularly curious, because no one has ever successfully captured the magical merengue or the sexual Samba on the small comic-strip-sized pages of a flip-book. Flipped too fast, and the dancers appear to simply be flying around a room from one scene to the next, like poltergeists with no sense of rhythm or aesthetics. Flipped too slow, and all of a sudden it stops looking like a dance and more like an instruction manual for saving scantily-clad girls from large dance-floor-type crowds whilst also wearing a tuxedo with the chest torn out of it (Blitz’ signature costume). While MQotW certainly wishes Blitz the best of luck in this imminently ill-fated illustrative impulse, his prize is nothing notable at all: an alliterative assortment, including but not limited to a sack of seashells secured from Sally who sells seashells down by the seashore, a peck of pickled peppers picked by Peter Piper, and a windfall of wood chucked by a woodchuck who would not, could not, chuck wood without knowing how much wood a woodchuck could chuck. (Alliteration, audience!)

Be the first to guess the title of the movie from whence the below quote was taken, and you will receive a grand fake prize from yours truly. If your correct response is received second, you will receive no prize whatsoever, but will be mocked for your inferior movie knowledge and/or less-than-catlike reflexes.

Please note: The point of MQotW is to acknowledge those with a completely useless mental database of movie knowledge, NOT to reward you for book marking IMDB.com or some other movie site & being able to type quickly; therefore, if you are found guilty of such high treason, you will be summarily dismissed from the distribution list. And I will flame you on MySpace. Research at your own risk.

Because this contest has some timing aspects to it, and to be fair to all my homies, I will distribute the MQotW at noon every Tuesday. Unless I’m busy.

Without further ado, I give you this edition’s…

Movie Quote of the Week:

“(raised voice) Jason, how many times have I told you to pick that damn thing up? (lowers voice sheepishly) A lot, I think. (lowers further) Probably several, maybe.”

Good Luck!

The Super Bowl Is An Excuse To Eat Like Roseanne Did Before She Got Religion,

Brian “I Wish Roseanne Hadn’t Found Religion” Hansen
Master Quotidian
MQotW Creator In The Non-Religious Sense Of The Word
“Stop Using Capital Letters In Your Signature. Makes It Religious. It’s Pretentious. So Is The Word Pretentious. Especially In Capitals.”

White Collar Archie Bunker

I think that about sums me up. I come home, I grimace at Edith (R), and all I want is to be left alone to sit in my chair (sofa) and drink my beer (soda) and watch Walter Cronkite (‘Friends’). Main difference is that I’m just as likely to put dinner on the table as Edith, and I didn’t spend all day mucking through whatever Archie mucked through. I muck through spreadsheets, and while this is indeed mucking, it is not the type of mucking that would generally be an acceptable mucking excuse for my grumpiness.

Stop saying mucking. Word’s lost all meaning.

Aside from the fact that my disorders are Seasonally Affected and that The Guy In Charge has seen fit to pee all over San Francisco for the last week & shows no signs of stopping, I really shouldn’t be grumpy. I try not to be, and manage not to be a lot of the time, but Edith still has to put up with it a little too often. Bless her for doing so & still being a generally happy person who, no matter how grumpy I am, refuses to stop talking to me.

… Those were the days.