I'm bringing Sexy Back

Here is a video clip from "So You Think You Can Dance: Season 2". It's the final four dancing to "Sexy Back", choreographed by Wade Robson. It is one of the most fun/coolest/sexiest things I've seen in a long time. I could watch it over and over and over... ENJOY!

We caught him! Yesssssss...

Every gay Minnesotan guy's wish... that they could catch Sven... Matt and I did see him at Saloon a few weeks ago, but I didn't have my net on me. Dammit!

Reality Round-Up

So You Think You Can Dance (henceforth known as SYTYCD) had their season finale last night, so if you haven't watched it yet and don't want to know who wins, READ NO FURTHER!!!

Ok, now that that's done, I can say that I was kind of surprised to see that Benji won and not hottie potatie Travis; however, they are both phenomenal dancers and I absolutely loved their hip-hop "Nerd Dance"...
*Travis on top (I wish) & Benji on bottom*

I mean, just look at how cute they are together! I want to take them home with me and keep them forever!

And the group performance last week to Sexy Back rocked my pants off, and I agree that Travis stole that performance... he had my attention the second he turned the corner and strutted down the stage... SIDEBAR: I'm upset that "Sexy Back" won't be available on iTunes until September 12th... I love that song and hope that they won't over play it on the radio so I get sick of it by the time I can buy it...

Lastly on the topic of SYTYCD, I was NOT PLEASED with how they abruptly got rid of Heidi and Donyelle after their solos... that was way harsh. They should have waited until the end to give them the boot. If I were those two, I don't know if I could have handled dancing the rest of the show.

Moving on to Project Runway...

The challenge last night took them to seedy Newark, New Jersey, America's Landfill and Arm Pit, to a recycling center where they had 30 minutes to collect recycled items to make an outfit of their choice. And in keeping with the show's normal theme, they had to be innovative and make the outfit in about 10 hours.

It was a fairly interesting challenge - making trash pretty. And not just any trash, but Newark, New Jersey's trash... a HUGE undertaking! I was thinking the only materials they would have to choose from would be crack pipes, dog feces, and used gym socks; but alas, I was wrong and they chose from various paper, plastic, and mylar remnants. Most of the designers did a good job, but then there were some who just didn't get it.

Michael won the challenge, and rightly so:

His presentation was gorgeous, and the execution was flawless. "Captain Save-A-Ho" is so going to make it to Fashion Week.

Allison was Auf'd for lame reasons:

So she was a little off this week! Who cares?! She has produced some of the most gorgeous pieces on that show, AND they have kept designers, like Kayne for example, because though he was a little off one week, they knew what he could do. Why not extend that same courtesy to Allison?! Get rid of Vincent! Who cares if he cashed in his 401K to do this show?! Go back to the insane asylum, Vinnie!

Laura is also becoming quite the little frigid bitch! First she gets on Kayne's back about his "choices" regarding his pieces on the show, and then she digs into Vincent back stage after Allison gets the boot! Instead of consoling Allison and making her feel better, she's yelling at Vincent about how his dress didn't move and it basically sucked big donkey balls. It was quite the juicy drama!

That's all she wrote for now! If and when I do another round-up post, it'll more than likely just be about Project Runway since that's the only reality show that's on right now that I watch...

Moving Accomplishments

I'm back from my long weekend. It was very restful and I spent a majority of my time off getting the last of my things moved up to the apartment. I can happily say that our apartment is finally in order and organized! It feels really good to be able to say that after having lived in complete chaos the last two weeks.

One of my biggest accomplishments of the long weekend was getting the laundry room organized. It's so pretty in there now that I could just sit and stare at it for hours and revel in my fabulous organizational skills. Most people would probably look at it and think, "Wow, he's a wee bit anal retentive...", but I don't care because I get my rocks off on doing that sort of stuff and the laundry room was by far one of the biggest challenges I had to tackle after moving in. That and teaching Matthew how to fold towels the right way (i.e. MY way... hehehe), but we're still working on that one...

On a completely different note, my second biggest accomplishment of the weekend was going to Valleyfair with Matt and walking around with my sister and 6 of her youth from her soon-to-be-former-church's youth group. I decided I'm really too old and fragile to cram myself into one of the seats on the "Corkscrew" rollercoaster and survive a minute of sheer torture on one of the roughest rollercoaters in the midwest. The antique cars are always a good time, even though I had to put all of my weight on the gas pedal just to get the car to move, while the 6 year old girl in the car ahead of mine was driving with the greatest of ease, having no issues pushing her gas pedal down. That and spending $7.53 on a medium soda and a small fry, which I seriously think came with about ten fries, is a little ridiculous. I still had fun, but my goodness, my body hurt at the end of the day.

So those were two of my biggest accomplishments from the long weekend. I feel like I deserve a medal or something.

"Dumber Than A Box of Rocks" Quote of the Week

I have found a new favorite website to visit every day: www.overheardinminneapolis.com

So in lieu of my laziness at the moment to think of something to write, I'll just copy and paste this funny quote from OIM's post today:

"Stay In School" Real Life Example #297
Middle-aged office woman: So, when is your last day?
Summer intern: I'm leaving in September to study abroad in Paris.
Middle-aged office woman: Paris, huh? In France?
Summer intern: That's the one.
Middle-aged office woman: So what do they speak over there?
Summer intern: ...Really?
Middle-aged office woman: *silence as she, glassy-eyed, waits for an answer*
Summer intern: Portuguese.

Wow, I suck!

So I know I said I'd post something everyday, buuuuuuuuuuuut, I suck and haven't had the time to actually fulfill that goal. I promise that I have a really good excuse this time for not posting since last Monday!

I started moving all of my stuff up to St. Paul this last week. I am now an official renter. I was handed the keys to our (Matt and I) apartment on Saturday the 5th. So ever since that happy day, I have been shuttling to and fro getting all of my little stuff that I can haul in the Jetta up to my new humble abode.

Ok, I know that doesn't explain my lack of posts between the 31st and the 5th, but I was very busy at work that week, and I usually blog while I'm chained to my desk. I do have a computer at home, but I was so tired each day after work that I couldn't muster enough energy to get off my butt and walk that 10 feet to the computer. Plus I'm still in the stone age and have dial-up internet at my house in Burnsville... but now I have DSL, so I should be posting more frequently I hope! I might even force Matt to blog more too... so, there you have it. My lame excuse for my lack posts.

Lost in Translation

My nephew Luke is 20 months old now and is just barely starting to learn a few words aside from his normal gibberish (which I think is a combination of French, Spanish, Russian, German, and Chinese... and a smattering of northern Minnesotan). His word of choice at the present time is "hi". From the opening of a door to the opening of an eye, he'll greet you with his limited vocabulary of "hi" about 80 times in a row. Another "word" he has aquired is "la". "La" happens to mean "bye-bye", though when I first heard him say the word, it took me a while to translate what exactly he was trying to communicate with me until it was accompanied by a waving hand gesturing for me to get out. I am also quite proud to say that, other than boring old ma and pa, he can say my name. He addresses me as Rob or Ra-Ra, depending on his mood and laziness factor.

Not everything he babbles about always makes sense however. More and more lately, I am starting to pick up subtleties thinking he really is trying to say something coherent underneath all the mumbles and jumbles. You can ask him a question and he will respond. Though I don't really comprehend what he is trying to tell me, I will nod in agreement and smile as though I'm following along with everything he is telling me.

For instance, at lunch today I was being lazy and lying on the couch while he used my legs as a highway for his Matchbox cars. I asked him a simple question: "Lukie! Are you going to go swimming in the pool this afternoon?" To which he responded: "Aye bloob a doob flerple nerples mathwich." Or something to that extent. I didn't get a direct quote so I had to paraphrase. Now, in my mind I tried to translate his crazy reply to which I guess he was telling me that either he (A) was going swimming this afternoon and he was very excited; or he (B) was mowing and trimming a spoon and he was merry exited. No matter what, I got lost along the way and before I could clarify what exactly he was trying to tell me in response to my question, he was in the other room talking to the TV.

Not everything is as confusing as the above incident - there will always be the clear answer of "NO" where he throws himself to the ground in the most dramatic fashion and puts his head on the floor shaking it back and forth while whining and screaming. The terrible two's are coming... I'd better brace myself.

Crappity, Crap, Crap, Crap!

Picture this: attempting to collect your own "specimen" in a teeny tiny cup; then having to scoop small amounts of the "specimen" and mix it into a vile filled with preservative to make sure you don't have a parasite from Mexico, which your friends have so lovingly named "Pepe".

That's hot.

Why yes, Jimmy! You ARE a Transport American...

So I didn't blog yesterday. Oops. I said I'd blog something every day. So I'm blogging today and I'll try and make it longer to compensate for yesterdays lack of motivation.

So even though I detest my job and have been crapped on by trick-ass management more times than I'd like to say, it was suggested that I write about a day in the life of a Transport America slave. So, a la the dreamy Sven Sundgaard, here is my day:

5:15 - Alarm starts beeping because Matthew needs extra time to wake up. Repeat this annoyance about 5-6 more times until he gets up.

6:00 - Matthew comes back from showering and rubs my back until I wake up... I think about rolling over and slapping him for waking me up from my dream about Sven. I think maybe my dream has come true and Sven is actually rubbing my back, roll over, nope, still Matt ;-) Get up.

6:04 - Stand in front of bathroom mirror and put in my contacts and hop in the shower. Sing something like "Defying Gravity" from "Wicked" to entertain myself. Sometimes make it a duet with Matthew while he finishes getting ready.

6:13 - Kiss Matthew goodbye as he jaunts off to work so he can support our lavish lifestyle.

6:15 - Finish getting ready and dress myself. Yes, I do dress myself.

6:30 - Walk 83 miles to my car down in the parking lot and drive to work. During my drive I take time to reflect on how much I loathe TA, I participate in solo sing-a-longs, think about the weekend, and yell at crummy morning drivers.

7:00 - Arrive at my desk (give or take 5 minutes) and log into my computer. While it's logging in I look out our floor to ceiling windows longing for the outside world and 4pm to hurry up and roll around.

7:15 to 12:00 - I usually spend this time working; HOWEVER, a lot of it is spent slacking off on the internet, emailing friends, talking to my sister who works here, and blogging. I always get my work done pretty quickly, so I have a lot of time on my hands.

12:00-1:00 - Lunch! WOOHOO! I get an hour away from this crap hole!

1:00-4:00 - Work, chat, email, and of course, surf the internet.

4:00 - FREEDOM!!! Tear out to my car as fast as my little legs will carry me... throw on my shades and crank up the music. Peel out of the parking lot and avoid plowing down nice co-workers... the ones I don't like so much I narrowly avoid.

4:27 - I get home and Matt and I sit around watching the last half of Oprah and make dinner.

6:30 - Wheel of Fortune!!! Yell out the answer to the puzzle long before the players get it and then yell at the players like an old man for being stupid. Think about applying to be on the show because I know I could make a haul.

The rest of the night's activities varies and depends on what we have planned. We are usually in bed by 10 because we're a couple of grandpas.

There you have it. It might be kind of boring, but......... you'd be right! :)

Dust Yourself Off and Try Again...

I gave up on blogging a while back after I decided no one was really reading anything I had to say. That or people were reading, but just didn't comment on my boring musings of my life. Sometimes writing something everyday got to be more of a chore than anything; however, I really do love to write.

It was always a passion of mine when I was a kid to write. I could sit in front of a keyboard and put my little imagination to work and whip out a story in an hour. I'd write family newsletters complete with a weather forecast (courtesy of someone like Paul Douglas or Ken Barlow of course) and a comic section. I was encouraged most to write by my 9th grade english teacher, Mrs. Born. She was a huge fan of my writings and always told me what a wonderful style and dry sense of humor I had in my pieces. She even went as far as giving me an award at the 9th grade awards ceremony saying I'd be the first published writer of my graduating class.

Well all of that passion and imagination kind of went down the drain when I got into my senior year of high school and college and was forced to write endless scores of research papers and legal summaries for some law classes I took. Doing something like that for 4 years really sucks any and all ambition and cleverness right out of a person. There was a brief stint when I studied in Paris my junior year of college when I had to write all my papers in french. That kind of lit a flame under my derriere for a while and made me feel like a true writer since most great authors/thinkers from the last century were french. Simone de Beauvoire. Jean Paul Sartre. And as much as I hate reading her work - Marguerite Duras. However, as much fun as writing en fraincais and pretending to be philosophical while sipping my espresso in a sidewalk cafe was, I was quickly brought back to reality by my french professors form of love and praise for my work. When I say love and praise, I mean breaking a student down mentally and verbally to the level of an infant, building them back up, and then ripping them a new rear end. All the while scolding you in french and smelling of bad cheese and body odor.

But, I overcame that little speedbump and managed to pump out some of my best work my senior year of college via my political science senior thesis and french portfolio. Writing got put on the back burner after college and I kind of missed writing the dreaded research paper. All those years of loathing and spite for writing those late night papers actually tured out to be a secret love of mine. Thus, inspired by some friends who had blogs and one quite notable blog by Stephanie Klein called Greek Tragedy (which, if you haven't read her blog before, I highly suggest it, and check out her new book), I began my own blog here.

I've been really bad at keeping up with this, hence the two month gap between my last post and this one, I am making a resolution, a la Miss Klein's once upon a time, to write every day. Whether it be something as little as 5 sentences or as long as a novel, write every day. We shouldn't let laziness get in the way of something we're passionate about. A passion sets us free from everyday stresses like work and gives us a chance to enjoy life. Writing is a passion and I shouldn't let it die because I feel like I have nothing to write about. If I'm passionate about it, I'll find something to write about.

Stay tuned my friends. Hopefully you'll see great things on this blog!

Job Hunting - Not for the weak and weary...

I've been job hunting for who knows how long, only to come up empty handed... am I not looking in the right places? Do potential employers find me hideous and unemployable? No, that can't be the case, I am a phenomenal dresser and I'm pretty sure my hygene is top-notch. They must be intimidated that I'll bitch-slap them en francais if they make a wrong move. Yes, that must be it!

I was talking to my co-worker, Lisa, about our job situations since we both seem to be in the same boat. I had never really talked to Lisa much until I moved desks and now sit right next to her. I was always intimidated by her pretty looks and her "popular girl" personality, but we began emailing last week and she's grown on me. We've started to lean on each other at work when we're at our wits end with our supervisors, and since we can't exactly have a verbal conversation about our frustrations, we've found another way to be bitter and spiteful - email. Through the gossip we've shared with each other, I've come to learn that we are not the only ones here who are fed up with our jobs and supervisors. She has been looking for a new job for about as long as I have, and she too has come up with nothing. So the best her and I can do while doing the job search is complain about our co-workers.

This reminds me somewhat of the movie "9 to 5", starring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Dolly Parton. For those of you who haven't seen this movie, I'd suggest it. The three women battle the "sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot" boss-man in a series of events, and in the end, they pretty much come out on top. But their frustrations with work and their boss reminds me a lot of what Lisa and I talk about, minus having a pot party while doing that. Why is work so stressful? And it's not stressful in the sense of having a lot of work to do - don't get me wrong, I have plenty of work to do - but it's stressful in the sense that I work with a bunch of monkeys whose jobs I could be doing a million times better than them. But alas, my company doesn't see that. So I'll be stuck doing what I'm doing until one day, hopefully in the very near future, I get a new job that takes me to new heights.

Ants In My Pants

It's Friday afternoon and I am sitting here at work, barely able to contain myself and giddy with excitement that I get to blow this popsicle stand in a half hour. I only had a 4-day work week, since my birthday was on Monday; however, this week has dragged on and on and on... and I didn't think it would ever end. But alas, it's drawing to a close, and thus begins my weekend-o-fun!

1. I finally get a night to just stay at home with Matty and do nothing all night tonight. I'm looking forward to this bit-o-nestling because I don't think my brain can handle any more thinking.

2. Matt and I get to crash a bachelorette party tomorrow night, and I'm very excited! Let's face it, 2 fun gay boys ALWAYS make the party more fun!

3. It's supposed to be nice outside all weekend... it's about frickin' time!

Ok, stop laughing! I know my weekend plans look really lame now that they're all typed out, but I'm really looking forward to it! It's the first time in a while where Matt and I haven't been committed to any plans with anyone! We're just so damn popular!

Basic Instinct 2: Meet Mrs. Satan

Is it just me, or does Sharon Stone look a little like the bride of Satan here? This was what she looked like for the premiere of Basic Instinct 2... A few observations:

1.) Try not to look so crazy, even if your fictional character is.
2.) Since when is it the "in thing" to match your lips to your hair color?
3.) She really needs a new stylist - I mean, who the heck thought it would be sexy to give her the Marie Antoinette/Hootie McBoob Prostitute/Ratty looking up-do?
4.) You're 50-something, and not hot enough to show your cooter anymore on screen, so let's start looking more our age and a little less scary/slutty.

**Check out Bertachel for fashion critiques and other random fashion slams!**

No Fly Zone

Co-workers are an interesting bunch... and not to single out any specific industry or trade, but I must say, hands down, that the transportation/trucking industry is BY FAR the most interesting group. While everyone is rather irritatingly pleasant and nice to one another, I have never heard the F-Bomb dropped so much in my life, nor have I seen particular people eat a smorgasbord of McDonald's breakfast, almost every morning before. Another interesting tidbit is how much some people totally invade others' private bubble. There is one person in particular, and we shall call him Humpy (obviously NOT his real name, although it should be).

When Humpy needs something from you or needs to talk to you, he will come stand behind your chair. Now, this may seem reasonable to some people, but he doesn't just stand there. His front side is, no joke, pressed up against the back of your chair. He'll just stand there until you notice him and ask him what he needs. Honestly, I think Humpy get's his rocks off on practically humping the back of your chair. Sometimes he even gets a little physical with it by patting your shoulders... I mean, it's bad enough that one has to feel Humpy breathing down onto the top of your head, but there is no need to, as Olivia Newton-John once sang about, "get physical". At work, my personal bubble is a no fly zone for anyone - especially you, Humpy!

Bowl-O-Rama

I think I might become a pro-bowler. I don't know if it was the sweaty balls we were using, or if it was the previous bowler's germ-infested shoes I was using, or if Bi Al's bowling karma was wafting toward lane 8, but I was tearin' it up our first game. We were ALL tearin' it up on our first game. I scored a 150! I think that was the highest score I've ever had at bowling. However, after that first game, my old age and arthritis started kicking in and each game after got subsequently worse and worse.

The second game we maintained our spark and I got 119, which is still good for me. I think the crusty beer we were drinking was starting to kick in, too, so our scores slipped a little, along with the ability to control the level of our voices and control of the sweaty balls. I know that sounds dirty, but seriously, the balls we sweating like no other... which, being a germ-o-phobe, worried me a little.

The third game we decided that we all had to bowl with the opposite hand. Lord almighty. I have never laughed harder in my life! We all looked like a group of special-ed string beans who could not control their limbs... people were staring and pointing at the 4 twenty-somethings bowling worse than their 3 year-old kids. We did manage to hit some pins, but overall, that game was for entertainment purposes... also, bowling like that is a sure-fire way to clear the lanes next to you on both sides so you can act even more stupid and not have to worry about what your bowling neighbors might think.

The last game we played only lasted 5 frames, so we granny-bowled. I actually did pretty well with this one. I managed to get 3 or 4 strikes in a row. Matt and I also learned that it is much easier for boys to granny bowl than girls... proof positive by looking at Cathy's granny bowling form, which I would try to descibe, but there really aren't words for it. Good times, good times.

So in conclusion, I suggest bowling to everyone if they are looking for something entertaining to do... especially cosmic bowling. There's lots of sexy black lights, so be sure to wear non-jizz stained clothing, but make sure you wear something that will make you glow. And as always, there's a ton of choice people and fashion statements being made, so it's a fabulous pick-me-up if you're feeling down about yourself!

Catch-up...

It has been well over a month since I've posted anything on here... I think it's been a combination of sheer laziness and lack of something interesting to write about. So much has (NOT) happened in the last month! Where to begin?

The last time we met... hmmm, that was... whew! February 15th! I'm a little behind the times I guess... well nothing major happened in those last two weeks in February, so we'll just move on to March...

-March 5th: The Oscars have been mulled over and over, so I won't give my fashion critiques, other than to say Reese looked gorgeous and I'm happy she won the Oscar.

-March 11th: Matt's family took a trip up to the Big City and we all went out to dinner at Buca's for his mom's 50th birthday. It was excellent and the wait for a table wasn't bad, minus the 800 times my front side got plastered against the fake Roman pillar in front of the "bread baking observation area" in the packed-so-tight-it-was-a-fire-hazard waiting room, while Juan Cucaracha (or whatever his name was) kept opening the oven, exposing my face to the flames of hell... *gasp* ... while my back side was being violated by unknown strangers passing by. And I'm pretty sure my face was dripping with sweat, which probably got onto some of the bread Mr. Cucaracha was making... but that's ok because it adds more flavor.

March 17th: St. Patrick's Day. Matt and I took this day off for fun, and we were both sauced by 9am. Ok, I lied, we weren't sauced at all that day, but we did go to the bar downtown for a while.

That, friends, brings us to today, March 24th. Tonight I am going bowling at Sunray with Rachel, Cathy, and Matt. Bring the cameras, kids! I haven't been bowling since college; however, I do have the bowling form down pat where the one leg sweeps majestically behind the other. That, I can do... the ball, on the other hand, doesn't have such perfect form and usually ends up in the gutter. I have an innate fear that I'll be "that guy" whose bowling ball slips off his fingers while he swings his arm back to throw the ball down the alley, and then gasps in horror with his hands covering his mouth in shock like he just won the Miss America pageant, while the ball flies back and hits someone in the face... I think its cosmic bowling tonight though, so at least it will be dark, and no one will witness my dainty bowling skills.

Limbo

I read my friend Missy’s blog last week and she had a very insightful post about packing and organizing for a life that hasn’t even started yet. After college, like Missy, I started buying household items for a future apartment or house, and packing them up along with other personal belongings hoping that someday soon I would be moving away and on my own.

Later that same day I got home from work and stood in my room looking around at what I have collected over the months since moving back home from college in mid-2004. I realized I had bought a lot of stuff for a future residence. I bought a big boy bed, a bookshelf, a chair, a computer desk, numerous household decorations such as pictures, vases, lamps (I seriously have more lamps than I can shake a stick at – it’s kind of a vice of mine. I love cool lamps… it’s weird, I know), artsy stuff from Ikea, mirrors, and candles. I had such grandiose dreams – living at home with my mom for a short period of time and then moving out with a roommate after having lived at home for 6 months and living happily ever after. That dream soon faded away into oblivion and I stopped buying and organizing for something that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

After living at home for a while, I began to realize that I would not have the ability to move out on my own because a.) I had no more options for roommates as all my friends had found other people to live with, and b.) I was not making enough money to live on my own without a roommate because rent is so outrageous for a one bedroom. Living at home really isn’t all that bad. I can’t complain because my set up is really quite ideal. Cheap rent, I have the entire lower level of my mom’s house to myself, free cable, free internet, free utilities… and I can close off half of the lower level where my bedroom and bathroom are from the rest of the house. And besides, I’m practically living at Matt’s apartment anyway, so I am hardly ever actually living at my house.

I had been off the home decorating kick and buying things for a while until this past weekend when Matt and I went and toured some of the homes in the Parade of Homes booklet. He and I looked at some townhouses in Woodbury. If he and I end up staying in Minnesota, we would more than likely get a townhouse – and just looking for fun gave me the itch to start anticipating a move again – and the move would not even happen until October or November. Then Monday night my mom and I went to Target together and she bought my sister some new dishes for her birthday and she convinced me to buy this lamp (like I need anymore lamps!) that was on clearance. We finished splurging on household items and went home and I started collecting items from my old bedroom upstairs and organizing them into big Rubbermaid containers.

I don’t know if it’s me just wanting to move, or if it’s my Bree VanDeKamp/Martha Stewart obsession with keeping things organized, or if it’s just the Spring Cleaning phase coming into play… Since I can’t quite put my finger on what the deal is, it makes me feel like I’m in limbo – and it’s not just the whole living situation above, but my career and future as well. There are some things I know I am certain of at this point, but not everything. I think a lot of people my age are in limbo at this time of their life. I guess I just have to wait and see what comes my way and hope for the best.

Bathroom Encounters

Rule NUMBER ONE when in the men's restroom: NEVER talk to the guy at the next urinal while you are peeing (mainly if you don't know him).

This has had to have happened to every guy at one point or another in his life - you're having a peaceful piss, and then the guy at the next urinal decides to be all neighborly and strike up a conversation about baseball, or some other masculine topic which I would know nothing about, given my circumstances. You stand there - uncomfortable and trying to pee faster just to get the heck out of there - awkwardly staring at the wall and noticing that the no-talent ass clown next to you is actually trying to make eye contact with you. This brings me to Rule NUMBER TWO: If you happen to be one of those guys who talks to his urinal neighbor, do not try and make eye contact. It's just uncomfortable and gross.

It should be one of those known rules in the bathroom to not talk to anyone (unless you really know them well, but even then you still stare at the wall, not at them), but occasionally you get those rebels who break the rules and make it weird. However, all of the above can be avoided, if you have more than two urinals to take advantage of.

Rule NUMBER THREE: If there are numerous urinals to choose from, always leave a space of one urinal between you and any other guy.

All of this came about because here at work, I only have the option of two urinals and two stalls in the bathroom on this floor. There have been many times where I'll be standing in an empty bathroom doing my business and some clown will come in and stand at the next available space, and strike up a conversation with me like we've been best friends for years. It's uncomfortable. And it's just weird. Don't do it...

Buca

I ventured to Matt’s homestead in O-Town again last night. We went down for the Owatonna Gun Club’s annual roast beef dinner. The food was pretty good and Matt’s dad paid for our tickets, so I couldn’t complain too much. It was everything I could have imagined – small town gun club, small town people, with home cooking. It was quite a nice break from the city for a few hours.

I also got to meet Matt’s newest pride and joy – his 2 week old nephew, Christian. Christian is a little peanut of a baby with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He is quite a sight to see; however, I have to remain loyal to my Lukie… he’s still the cutest little man that I know! But Christian is certainly right up there.

Matt held his “Buca” most of the night and got his “Christian fix”. Matt was so sweet with Christian. He held him in his arms and his hands gently cradled his head. I had never seen Matt hold a baby before, and to be quite honest – it was one of the cutest and most touching things I’ve seen. For those of you who don’t know Matt, he’s very tall, so seeing this tall guy holding a tiny little seven pound infant was adorable.

For someone who said he doesn’t want children, he does a great job of handling one.

It's been a while...

Wow, it's been almost a week since I posted anything on here. I haven't had much to write about I guess! I'll just write a brief recap of this last weeks events and write something with more substance later on, that is if my mind can come up with something interesting...

-My mom's surprise party went off without a hitch! It was a lot of fun and she was very surprised. Her family had come up from Kansas and Iowa to help us celebrate and she was very excited to see them.

-Matt and I passed the 4 month mark... it's gone by fast, but in a good way. ***Ok, ok, ok... because a little whiny someone-who-shall-remain-nameless complained that I put a bad picture up here earlier, I had to post a different one. SO, this is Matt and his co-worker Kari at their skating party last Friday.***

-I interviewed for a Customer Service Manager position here at work. It would be a nice promotion for me and make it more tolerable to stay here for a while longer. I'll find out late next week whether or not I got the job.

-I bought the Oprah 20th Anniversary DVD collection at Target. Oprah sure knows her stuff! And she certainly knows how to make people cry with her human interest pieces. Oh Mattie Stepanek... that story makes me cry every time.

That marks most of the highlights since last Friday. Pretty boring, I know - but I promise to think of something better to put up here!