Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Restroom is not exactly a rest room...
BL: MA
READER DISCRETION ADVISED
This blog has been rated MA for mature audience.
So I work at this client site in Schaumburg, right? Well, they have several buildings, all of which are somewhat energy efficient. In other words, you'll hardly find any manual switches. Every lighting switch is timed to go off based on motion detection, restrooms included.
Anyway, I work at a building with twenty-something odd floors. At this particular tower, the fifth floor is entirely dedicated to the data center on raised flooring which services IT computing infrastructure for operations in Europe and North America. Because the data center is in a secured zone, and only two operators work within it, the restrooms on that floor are seldom used. How do I know that? For one, all the data center employees are female, and two, almost every time I walk into the restroom, the motion detector would trigger the lights to come on, suggesting no one has used it in a while.
If I don't work and sit in the data center but on the seventh floor, one may beg the question, "Why do you even use the restroom on the fifth floor?" Good question, I might concede. Well... Uhm...
Let's just put it this way. The restrooms on each floor have only two urinals and two toilets each. That configuration is obviously for the men's side of course, as I have no idea what the configuration is for women's. (Or maybe I do know, but I'm pretending not to...) With so little facilities in the men's restroom, it can sometimes be crowded considering that each floor seats about 150 employees. {How do I know that figure? It helps to be friendly and in good terms with one of the two floor administrators.} In other words, there are times, many times in fact, when the restroom is extremely nasty and filthy. I swear, most, if not all, men are just pigs. Sometimes I wish they were just as anal as I am when it comes to cleanliness and germ phobia.
And because of the sheer number of people working per floor, I sometimes have to wait for people; or worse yet, be waited on. It is especially horrible when I'm dropping the kids off at the pool, as that delicate (and intimate) process is definitely something I hate to be rushed on, you know? And with feet tapping impatiently on the other side of the super thin partitions/walls with cracks that you can see through, said kids being dropped off at the pool may, you know, at times have stage fright, thus prolonging the unnecessary long process.
So for reasons I have mentioned above, I enjoy going down to the fifth floor to use the restroom. I don't have to wait on anybody; nobody has to wait for me; and best of all, it is much cleaner. Not to mention the lack of a certain constant funky smell. And I know that nobody has used it in a while, because every time I go in there, the lights are off and my entrance would trigger the switch to turn on the lights. That feeling is akin to reading a fresh, crisp newspaper which you know nobody else have unfolded its pages. Ahh... My private restroom sanctuary...
But my private restroom sanctuary is there for me to escape the crowds and yuckiness. Apparently, just the other day, I discovered that this same restroom is also a private sanctuary for another person, but for totally different reasons. I walked in, and as expected, the lights were off. But as soon as the lights were turned on by the motion detector, lo and behold an employee got up hurriedly from the floor, apparently having a leisurely afternoon nap!
Whoa!!! I know the fifth floor restroom is clean, but not that clean! I just stood there, jaw dropped, while he groggilymade a dash for the door. Was I supposed to laugh? Was I supposed to stare? Was I supposed to avoid eye contact AND not laugh?
I wanted to tell him that he should somehow obtain a key to "mothers' rooms" scattered throughout the building. At least those rooms are cleaner, almost soundproof, and lockable so as to not disturb his sweet lullaby. The downside of this, aside from the fact of needing to convince human resources to supply him with a key, is that he will be there along with, uhm, specialty pumps.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
How Do You Spell Stupidity?
If you don't know how to spell out stupidity, and find yourself looking it up in the dictionary, chances are that you'll find a picture of yours truly right next to the word. Or if there is a Museum of Stupidity, you may find a life size statue of me as Exhibit A.
Why? Oh, let me tell you why!
I was a little bit giddy last night right before I went to bed. I had my bag stuffed with tights, technical boxer briefs, a pair of technical windproof pants, socks and my bright Adidas running shoes. Everything was ready. Yay!
As I walked out the door this morning, I made sure I didn't leave my stuff at home. My project manager, who was rather nosey today, asked about my bag on my desk today. I explained to him what it was for. As work has been rather stressful the past week or so, I've already lost some sense of time. Like last week, I was shocked to realize it was Friday when Friday finally rolled around!
My plan was to leave work by 17:30. But I was working on an issue when I realized the clock read 17:42. Crap! I quickly wrapped things up, and while my laptop was shutting down, I debated whether or not I should change at work before heading back to Chicago. On the one hand, the later I leave, the further back towards Schaumburg the highway will be backed up. On the other hand, I really needed to drop the kids off at the pool and it wouldn't be right to other runners if I hogged the restroom to change AND do my business. Not to mention the nice scent I'll be leaving behind.
So change at work it was then. I got my tights and my bright red shoes on, and walked back to my desk to get my work bag. My clients stopped chatting and looked at me while I walked past them. But they didn't say anything to me. So I quickly ducked out of the office before somebody could finally open his or her mouth.
Damn! Traffic was backed up a little further back than normal. A quick glance at the clock registered 18:20. I called Erin and left her a message: Erin, this is John. It's about 18:20, and it looks like I won't make it by 19:00. In either case, I'm still going to run it.
Slowly but surely, I finally made it to Momentum an itsy bit past 19:00. As I crossed the street, you could hear the sound of beads hitting each other in an annoying way. I peered into the store, and not a mouse was stirring. Hmm... I opened the door and stepped inside, and I was greeted with odd silence. Halfway towards the register counter, I saw Bill the owner and a single staff sitting on a chair staring at me. She had her mouth open, presumably shocked to see me in my tights, bright red shoes with shoelaces still untied, and about four beaded necklaces dangling around me.
I slowed down my pace. Bill finally asked, "Can I help you?" It was an odd question, considering that he knew me as a regular.
"Uhm, yeah. You don't suppose that there is a Mardi Gras fun run tonight?"
Bill and the employee looked at each other before replying, "Oh, that was last night!"
Doh!!! Let's review. I knew it was Fat Tuesday yesterday. Why would there be Mardi Gras on the day after Fat Tuesday? I apologized without hesitant, not because I bothered their peace, but because my face was turning into a brighter shade of red than my shoes so fast that I was trying to get the hell out of there in a futile attempt to hide my embarrassment and salvage whatever pride and ego was left.
Stupidity has struck again...
Labels: funny, sports, stupidity
Monday, February 19, 2007
Damn you, oh...
So I went to bed on Sunday at 23:30 in the hopes I can go to Schaumburg for work early the next day. I tossed and turned in bed staring at the ceiling, the empty pillow next to me, the glass of water on the night stand, and the window. I tried to fall asleep by putting my arm across my face, a trick I thought worked when I was a kid. But apparently not. I went so far as to think that if I managed an increase of endorphins and serotonin in my brain, I might fall asleep right thereafter. That failed miserably. If only I am not lactose intolerant, for otherwise I could try some of my friends' suggestion of drinking warm milk right before bed.
So. It is now freaking 02:25 on Monday morning. My alarm is to go off in about four hours. DAMN YOU, OH INSOMNIA!
Oh, and damn you too, little thoughts about life in my head. I wish my body came with an on/off switch for that stupid philosopher in me.
Friday, February 16, 2007
You Complete Me...
Originally titled: Feeling Kinda Naked
Like any other day, I woke up this morning and got ready for work. Unlike any other day, I didn’t have breakfast, because I went to bed quite late last night.
Like any other day, I drove the hour-plus commute to work while groggy-eyed. Unlike any other day, I freaked out after driving for almost half an hour across town when I almost reached I-90.
I left my cellular phone at home!!!
I have been jittery the whole day. What if I have a gazillion text messages from my friends which I didn’t respond? What if I get in a wreck on the highway and need help? {Never mind the fact that there shouldn’t be a huge wreck in the first place while driving in 30 miles an hour traffic.} What if I get lost in the middle of nowhere? {Never mind the fact that there is absolutely nothing but highway and Peterson Avenue between Schaumburg and home.}
I feel so powerless. I feel so naked. I feel like I’m experiencing a withdrawal.
Worst of all? I felt extremely inadequate! Once I am reunited with my phone when I get home tonight, I’m going to gently tell her, "Nokia, you complete me." =)
Labels: drama, life, technology
Thursday, February 15, 2007
An Anatomy of Grey's Anatomy
An Anatomy of Grey's Anatomy
One Sunday evening years ago, I was flipping through the channels in search of the brand new series House. For some reason I thought it was showing at 21:00 on Sunday, even though I very well knew that Fox Broadcasting broadcasts its nightly news at that hour in central time zone. Nonetheless, I thought I found the right channel, because there was this show with a bunch of people in medical coats. That must be it, the oft-talked show that has been generating buzz all week long.
An hour later, I was puzzled as all heck. Where was the bearded, gimpy doctor that all the critiques raved about? It turned out that I had just watched the pilot episode of Grey's Anatomy. Stranger yet, I actually liked this new show. Ever since that day, I have been watching Grey's Anatomy religiously. It is funny and catchy. I liked how Meredith Grey narrates throughout the show explaining the little meanings of life as she saw it through the experiences of her life and her friends', hence the title.
Although Grey's Anatomy was never my absolute number one favorite show, it was high up there on my list along with 24 and CSI. Of course now I don't watch CSI anymore due to last year's Thursday primetime shakeup.
Fast forward a couple years from 2005, a smooth 51 episodes later. I still like the show. Sure, it no longer has the same cachet as it carried in the first season. It still is funny at times, but it seems like they have shaken up the staff writers. Either that, or it could be possible that ABC guided the show's existing staff writers in a new direction after finding out that their audience comprised a significantly more proportion of young women than previously projected in target audience research. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that in the advent of character development and its intricate relationships, the show has evolved slightly into a medical drama version of Desperate Housewives. It is now an extremely girly show!
Of course, that didn't bother me a whole lot. At least not enough for me to completely dump the show. I just wonder now what will the staff writers do once all the characters have slept with each and every other characters. Will the producers bring more hot guest stars like they did with Chris O'Donnel last season?
In any case, let's get back to the point. Another reason why I liked this show outside of its artistic values is because it had very minimal product placement. Compare it to Seinfeld or Friends, Grey's Anatomy is the untainted virgin free of corporate product placement. Of course I don't consider medical equipment really a product placement when the premise of the show is set in a hospital setting. And GE has been good with not slapping their oversized brand icon on every medical equipment prop. In fact, I hardly ever see its brand at all, except during the closing credits.
Well, this virgin is no more. You, like I and many other fellow human beings, have gone to hospitals, clinics and doctors' offices countless of times. So why don't you think back of hospital and clinic surroundings as a reference? What do you remember most about the decors on such walls? For me, it has mostly been informational diagrams of certain anatomic parts, like the reproductive systems, lungs, etc. Sure, these posters were provided by the pharmaceutical companies. For example, there might be a huge poster showing the anatomies of both a healthy sinus and one that has severe allergies, with a small line at the very bottom indicating lightly that the poster was provided by Nasonex. In other words, minimal advertising in the hospitals due to doctors' code of ethics.
Where am I going with this? When I was catching up with Grey's Anatomy recently when I finally watched the "Wishin' and Hopin'" episode, something caught my eye that really disturbed me. I stopped the frame and looked hard. I dug deep into the recesses of my subconscious mind so that I may put a finger on it. Here is the frame I am talking about:
Notice anything strange? No? Look over Meredith's shoulder on her left (our right). Yeah, over there, the big blue sign. That extremely oversized image. I mean, look at it! It is just as big as that janitor's cart? Do you recognize the sign? I didn't initially. But it took me a long time to figure out. Since I'm not a woman, I know little about birth control. I mean, I know the medical concepts surrounding it and how they function in a woman's body depending on the general types. But I surely didn't know the popular brands out there. After much research, I finally found it!
Ring a bell? That thing on the show is a striking resemblance to a logo of a birth control device magnified hundredfold! Watch the regular advertisement on the air here.
Ugh!!! Grey's Anatomy has finally snuck in a huge product placement! The show is no longer pure, and it is a little bit upsetting. Now I just hope that the show is not going down a slippery hill and maintain its good qualities.
Labels: adverts, culture, television
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Another misguided day for the enamored...
What was that famous quote? "You are your own worst enemy." Do you really believe in that? Better yet, do I believe in that? I don't know. I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. Yes, it is yet another Valentine's Day for which I'm single, or happily single as Amber would always proclaim, but I'm not in some kind of a VD funk. After all, I have grown quite accustomed to not celebrating this day glorified by corporate empires to churn out higher profits, especially when it is a day to remember a martyr from the late third century whose story has nothing to do with amor. After all, its association with romantic love was invented in the fourteenth century, now aided with the catalyst of modern American economy and the rise of Hallmark Cards.
History of Valentine's Day aside, I am experiencing something though. If not funk, then some kind of a strange feeling. {Or could it be a mental feeling manufactured with the aid of tannin?} It has been looming for weeks now, only to be amplified hundredfold this past Monday. You see, I have been reduced to this in a single moment of weakness. Instead of the usual self-confident, uppity John that night, I somehow became a nervous wreck. And it didn't help with my hour-long commute to and from work each day. Instead of being able to read a book or article, or simply relax like I typically would while flying on a plane, I'm now stuck in traffic over two hours a day with my own thoughts. If that is not mental self torture, I don't know what is.
So a battle loomed in my mind on Monday night. The war strategy has not worked before. After all, the score has been 0 for 1 in my life. But that night, I was thinking of the new battle. I know persistence and perseverance have worked for a few people in this world, and emphasized and romanticized to no ends in fiction. But should I go down a similar path for which the once employed strategy failed miserably before years ago? I don't know.
I gathered myself together. I stopped thinking too hard. And I decided to just put everything out there. Lay it all out on the table. No games. {Note of sarcasm: As if I have ever played games before.} I was scared and nervous. It reminded me of the time when I was in high school, when I decided out of the blue to join the drama troupe all for the sake of impressing a girl. But unlike my huge ambition in high school, which I not only just joined the drama club but went so far as to audition for (and subsequently get) the lead role, the delivery was far short of a stellar performance when I finally did what I set out to do. In an instant, I felt like this was the final tipping scale, not knowing which side that one grain of sand will fall on the scale of equal weights.
Panic ensued immediately. In stress, I called a friend right after the execution of my poorly thought out decision. To my surprise, she answered the phone for the first time ever. We talked for a long while. And something she said struck me. She said something to the effect of this: "Dating isn't what it used to be. Whatever happened to people calling each other and talking on the phone? Now it's email and text messaging!" I realized right then and there that that is the reason why I often neglect my paid Match.com subscription so much. But more than the realization, what she said brought me back to my younger years.
You see, back when I was way younger, flirting wasn't just stealing glances at a girl between classes near the lockers. It involved talking for a long time about absolutely nothing for hours at night. I also remember writing five or so notes a day in school, the careful smiley faces we'd draw at the end of our signed names, and the intricate way we'd fold our notes before nonchalantly walking by each other's locker in between classes to pass our secret notes. After I hung up with my friend, I immediately found myself a piece of paper and attempted to fold it like I used to in an attempt to test myself if I remembered how my secret love notes were folded from memory after not having done so in over 10 years. Surprisingly, it was like getting back on a bike after not riding one in years. Memories started to flood in. Me.Ss. Je.Br. Da.Sl. Wow...
Yeah, my friend has a point. Dating today is no longer what it used to be. I miss the good old days when I'd struggle to stay awake in the middle of the night whilst fighting to keep my phone glued to my ear to hear her talk, or when we'd find time after school to go for a walk in the field to talk about practically nothing important. Whatever happened to the old fashion way of impressing a girl? It's no longer how well you played at the basketball game against a huge rival. No longer showing how strong you are in front of her when you got hurt. It's no longer doing something klutzy intentionally in front of a girl and pretending to be embarrassed about it. Now, especially with my self-imposed rule of not dating people at work, impressing a girl in an otherwise grown up world is different.
I hate to brag, and I have never been the one to play that angle ever. But some of my friends have told me that I should mention who I work for, or how much I make. To this day, I don't know if it was a mistake on my part when I was with Ke.Ng. for not ever bringing her back to my place for fear of her realization of my lifestyle. For some odd reason, I've always tried to find ways to make sure that a girl likes me for the content of my character, not just what I am capable of. I'm smart and a huge nerd, but I always play the I failed calculus three in college card despite the fact that I'm insanely successful at the nerdy job that I do. The failing math card? Completely true. But somehow I always emphasized that more than my successes.
So I'm still single on Valentine's Day. Am I in a funk? Sure, you can say that. But is it due to the fact that it is February 14th? Definitely not. I am in a funk because I have suddenly become that silly boy in high school who has this serious crush on a girl. It's like all my improvements, maturity and self-confidence have suddenly been tossed out the window. I hate it that a girl can reduce me to this in an instance with the moment she smiled across the room, after years of self-restraint and growth.
Some friends said I'm too picky with girls. Some of my other friends said I'm always dating everybody. Some even nearly accused that I never date for fun, but rather looking for a relationship. Truth be told, none is accurate. I've given some girls the benefits of doubt. I have passed over girls I thought I would like. Of the girls from whom I successfully gotten their numbers, I only follow through with less than half that number. And I'm not out there looking to get married. Sure, settling down is a goal, but it has no timetable associated with it. If it happens, it happens. But how often does a pretty girl from across the room captivate you with a single smile? And for it to get better when she opens her mouth thus revealing a beautiful voice that draws you into her world? And only for it to get even better when you realize that she is extremely funny and quirky in the way that makes you want to be with her even more just so you can know her a little bit more? Especially one who makes you behave like a crazy kid, throwing calculated caution in the wind, acting like a little child? I can only tell you honestly that in my 29 years of living, only three girls have done that to me. The first one is now a close friend of mine. The second one was lost without closure. And now, the third one is making me beg to learn about her more. To understand her. For all I know, in all the attractive qualities that make her up, she could be a psycho girl like a few of the ones I have dated before. But something is telling me to take a blind chance. Jump off the cliff into the ocean unreservedly. And I don't know why!
If I pursue this, will it be 0 for 2? I don't know. A friend once told me an interesting story. She observed and asked why it was cute and hot when an attractive guy approaches her uninvited and starts flirting, but considered it creepy when a not so attractive guy does the exact same move on her? Well, I'll know soon enough if my atypical move will be perceived as cute, or sadly creepy. And for not knowing that, or perhaps my refusal to know what she thinks, I probably should finish the remaining last glass of wine in that bottle I have slowly been killing all night. Yes, I'll be looking forward to a wonderful headache come the morn. And I shall chuckle at what I wrote so far when I'm at work, and debate whether or not I should simply delete this writing. =)
Friday, February 09, 2007
I Need to Sweat More
I have been lucky enough in my life in the sense that I don't ever wear antiperspirant deodorant. It is not because I'm a cheap bastard who can't afford a can or tube of the bad odor fighting chemicals. For one, cans of anything contain aerosol, which is an environmental irritant. Secondly, those deodorant sticks either leave some mark on your clothing, or contain extra chemicals if it is claimed to stay on clear. Finally, all antiperspirant products contain aluminum-based compounds. If I remember the element chart correctly from my high school physics class, aluminum is a metal. No thanks for me!
Don't get me wrong. I have used antiperspirants in the past. Just not here in America, but only when I lived in Indonesia. Indonesia is a tropical country, and temperatures there tend to get really warm year round. Because I'm a tropical boy, I have gotten used to the heat that when I moved to the United States, I don't sweat as much anymore. To me, the temperatures are typically too cold. Yes, I like my place a toasty 75 degrees. I will never crank my air conditioner to temperatures colder than 75 degrees even in the summer time! The only time I sweat a lot is when I am running or playing some sort of a physical sport.
Why am I talking about sweat? Well, I think I may have found the root cause, or at the very least, a major contributing factor as to why I'm not successful at dating. Never mind the fact that I sign on to Match.com maybe once a month, and on average email about three people every two months through that online dating site. {Yeah, I pretty much kissed my six month Match.com guarantee goodbye after my first month.}
Anyway, back to the point. I think the reason why I'm not attracting women (actually, just women who I dig) is because I don't perspire enough. Even without wearing antiperspirant products, I don't give off a musky scent {or odor, whichever you prefer} that supposedly attracts women and causes them to be sexually aroused. Hey, I'm not making this up! Apparently researchers at the University of California Berkeley discovered that women who took a whiff of male sweat experienced improved mood and higher sexual arousal!
That's it! Screw the whole showering and putting on cologne thing before a date. From now on, I'll just run a mile on the treadmill immediately prior to picking up my date. Whoever the lucky girl is will be all over me before we get to dessert! =)
Thursday, February 08, 2007
A Simple Solution to a Years-long Paranoia
Have you ever walked in public, and all of a sudden, a stranger passing by would stare at a certain part of your body? For you girls, let's exclude guys staring at your boobies, as I'm sure it is not really all that strange to you by now. Like for example, someone would just stare at your mouth out of the blue, as if it was a telltale sign that you have a grain of rice stuck to your face after having lunch at Chang's Jade Palace or a similar restaurant. You know what I mean?
You see, I used to have that problem with strangers staring at me randomly, for years! It all started in mid 2001. Passersby would always stare at my crotch! WTF, right? Even the CEO of a company I used to work for stared at me down there once at a company Christmas party one year! I've always been paranoid with such reactions from people. I have always imagined the worst, like an erection in my pants that I was totally oblivious to; or I may have not dripped all the way dry after going to the restroom, hence possibly a wet spot on my slacks in the nether regions.
Well, it is 2007, and I finally noticed that I no longer have this issue of passersby staring at my crotch. Coincidentally, it all stopped when I started working on a new project at a new client site. After much thinking for the past few weeks, I finally realized what the solution is! A lanyard! You see, I used to wear my ID badge clipped to my belt. And since my new client site requires us to wear their own ID badge, I was given a lanyard to hold the badge and wear around my neck.
Now nobody stares at my crotch anymore. Although I sometimes wonder if people think I'm gaining weight whenever passersby stare at my belly area. =)
Labels: funny, random, stupidity
The Balloons Finally Popped...
Daaamn! This week has been one without a dull moment in terms of current events. Minutes after I wrote and posted the blog about the iPod ban in NYC, I got this urgent text message from my friend Erin:
"Holy shit! Anna Nicole Smith died!"
Obviously, I didn’t believe her. After all, even at work, I have my web browser set to Google News, which refreshes itself every five minutes so I don’t have to miss a beat. Unfortunately though, I never go to the Entertainment section of Google News, because I typically don’t care for the rich and famous stars.
Well, I can tell you right now, my friend wasn’t lying. Anna Nicole Smith really died! And although I have been indifferent to Anna Nicole Smith’s meddling in this world, it is kind of sad that she died after having endured so many recent hardships, especially the death of her son. How sad.
Labels: celebrity
Possibly a Dull Drum New York Marathon?
Marathon. It is not an easy sport to compete in, either professionally or recreationally. It is 26.2 miles, or 42.195 kilometres. It is a test of human endurance. Anyone who can finish it no matter the time achieved deserves to be called a winner. At least that's in my point of view.
So far in my lifetime, I have only done one marathon. I did horrendously with 5:59:24, when I had a goal of 4:30. To my credit, I did not train for two months leading up to the Phoenix Marathon while nursing a foot injury from running in New York City in October. I mean, I was still on pace to finish in my goal time up through mile 17, but it went downhill fast afterwards when I kept on getting sharp shooting pains in my right knee.
For the P.F. Chang's Rock 'n' Roll Marathon of 2006, I brought my craptastic iPod Nano, which I did not know had an extremely short battery life until about half an hour into the race. For the rest of the five and a half hours of the race, I was bored to death. I learned quickly how important music can be for recreational runners like me. Not only did I have to deal with boredom, but motivation was lacking. I needed some upbeat tunes to keep me rolling. After all, I am not an elite athlete where a six ounce electronic gadget strapped to my arm not only will weigh me down, but disturb the aerodynamic airflow of my body!
Anyway, I've got my heart set to run three of the world's most renowned marathons before I die: Chicago, New York City and Boston. I've registered for the Chicago Marathon of 2007. The New York City Marathon is hard to get into, as it is not only limited to 37,000 participants, but a lottery system is employed. At least it is still easier than the Boston Marathon, which you have to qualify for by your time in a sanctioned marathon race. So after Chicago this year, I will be setting my eyes on doing the New York Marathon.
But now I am debating whether or not I will even consider participating in the New York Marathon for 2008 and beyond. It all depends on a piece of legislature being introduced by New York State Senator Carl Kruger. His proposed law? A ban on the use of electronic handheld devices such as BlackBerries and iPods while crossing streets in major cities; and if caught, a fine of $100 will be assessed. Granted, this proposed law is to protect pedestrians crossing major streets while oblivious to the world surrounding him or her, which I totally understand. Besides running on public trails, I tend to have no desire to wear earphones in public mostly because I can't stand being unable to hear what's going on in the world around me.
If this law becomes effective, then I certainly won't be able to endure running the New York Marathon without music. I know, this is a bit silly, considering that the law may not apply to race courses on closed roads, but still, you and I don't know the specifics of the proposed law, nor do we know how the legislature will be interpreted should it become law.
So yeah, the New York Marathon may have a slight possibility that it will be a dull drum one for us recreational runners. =)
Labels: oddity, politics, sports
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Holy Crap!
Not only was I swamped at work today, but so many things popped up in my news radar that I was not able to blog anything personal or funny today! It was so much that I had to filter it down to just three news blogs. After all, I'd like to go to sleep some time, you know? Especially after today's horrible commute, considering how stupid some drivers can be. But I guess they were just being super, extra careful to prevent huge pileups like the one that occurred in the Chicagoland this morning. (Videos and pictures.) Sigh... I can only imagine what my commute tomorrow morning will be like...
Labels: weather
PSA for the Girls
Okay, so I'm a nerd in some senses. I'm a news junkie, but I pay special attention to current and world affairs, as well as health news. I came upon nonprofit organization Public Citizen's NotMyPill.org, which is a website trying to bring awareness to a dangerous type of birth control pills as well as petitioning the public to influence public policy to ban them.
Long story short, taking new birth control pills with synthetic hormone desogestrel will double your risk of blood clots! Hmm... Last I checked, blood clots in the blood stream are not good for you. In fact, it can lead to stroke, among other things including fatality! Ah, don't you just love the big pharmaceutical companies, who always enjoy the big profits at the cost of public safety like they always do?
Here's a video about it...
That Lucky Dude, Commander Bill Oefelein
Alternate Title: Psycho Astronaut
A select few of my friends know that at some points in my life, I have been stalked by women. Most guys always tell me, "Dude, that is really cool a chick was digging you!" But I can assure you, it is not a very comfortable situation to be the stalkee. Yes, I just made that word up. You always wonder in your mind, What the hell is wrong with her to do such and such things?
Well, meet Captain Lisa Nowak. This respected NASA astronaut is a married woman and a mother three. But I suppose like most people, her love and dedication to the man she married went on the wayside. She became interested in Commander Oefelein, also from NASA. The extent of their romance is unclear at this moment, but apparently it is strong enough that she had to go all psycho and jealous because Air Force Captain Colleen Shipman was also involved with Commander Oefelein.
Yes, you got that right! A love triangle! This is the true, real life soap opera! What makes the whole situation soap opera-ish is the fact that Captain Nowak considers Captain Shipman a rival. {Side note: You always hear of boys fighting for the girl, but I hardly ever hear of girls fighting for the boy. In fact, why doesn't that ever happen to me?} But a problem exists, besides the fact that there are two girls and just one boy. Nowak and Shipman are about 950 miles apart. Nowak lives in Houston, and Shipman in Orlando.
What was truly unbelievable was the fact that Captain Nowak drove over 950 miles to confront Captain Shipman, but her rage was so hot and determined that she wore diapers so she wouldn't have to stop for the restroom during the long drive!
But wait! It gets juicier!
When Nowak finally got to Orlando, she pepper sprayed Shipman after playing the sympathy card by crying when Shipman refused to talk to her.
And it gets funnier (or worse)!
Nowak then walked away, donned a wig and a trench coat, and brought with her a mallet, a buck knife with a four inch blade, a BB gun, and gloves. All right before getting arrested by the fine Orlando police officers! WTF?!? I cannot even imagine what she planned on using all those indispensable tools for, especially when under a disguise!
When I first saw this story at work, Captain Nowak was charged with attempted kidnapping. But now, it seems like they have upgraded it to include attempted first degree murder charges.
Now, that is chilling! But wait, aren't NASA astronauts supposed to undergo extensive mental evaluation, especially when assigned to space missions? After all, she was out in space just some months ago! If this proves anything, it simply is the fact that love, as twisted as it can be, can drive people to do very strange things.
For more news and updates on this interesting love triangle involving space geniuses, just do a search on "Lisa Nowak" at Google News.
Labels: funny, girls, life, oddity, stupidity
The Sick Hidden Cost of War
Not many people realize that not only do our enemies employ propaganda, but our very own red, white and blue does so too. War is dirty. War is also costly, as an official estimate may peg it to end up in the two trillion dollars range. To get the public buy-off on war, we keep several details out, like images of gore from the media, or the number of friendly fires that occur. The propaganda being mounted on us is not only the romantic overtures that the Iraqi War is just, but an attempt to self censor to certain details so that we may still maintain a rosy picture of war.
Well, it seems like the whole debacle surrounding the truth behind how Pat Tillman died in Iraq did not teach the Pentagon and the Bush Administration any lesson. It turned out today that the United States and the United Kingdom seemed to have attempted to cover up the truth surrounding the death of L/Cpl Matty Hull, who died almost four years ago.
Granted, L/Cpl Matty Hull is not a celebrity like Pat Tillman. But still, don't you think that Hull's family deserved the truth? Apparently the United Kingdom Ministry of Defence told the family little information, despite having received a video from the Pentagon that chronicled the whole costly screw up. And to make matters worse, this piece of video was deemed classified information, even though there wasn't much to indicate any top secret or sensitive information.
It took a British tabloid to obtain the leaked video to blow the whole thing open. Can you imagine, if you're a member of Hull's family, to finally learn the truth nearly four years later from the tabloid, of all sources? This is infuriating! It turned out that two United States pilots accidentally attacked on a British convoy in Iraq, resulting in L/Cpl Hull's death!
Don't get me wrong, as I am not faulting our Air Force pilots, because accidents do happen in war. But what really upsets me the most is the frequency with which our government perform the classic under rug swept move. How dare they do something like this, when a family in mourning deserves to know the truth? The Pentagon, as clearly well as the Ministry of Defence, should have done the right thing from the start. And now they have this public relations nightmare to deal with.
You can read more about this incident on New York Times' The Lede blog on the subject. You can also watch the leaked video, in two parts, below, along with the full transcript.
Labels: politics, stupidity, war
Monday, February 05, 2007
Do You Remember That?
Alternate Title: J-Ho's Top Three Super Bowl XLI Adverts.
Invariably, the day after Super Bowl Sunday at the "water cooler" always involves talking about two things: 1) The football game, and 2) The Super Bowl adverts. Well, I've covered the game already, so here's on to the adverts.
Was it just me, or did anybody else notice that there weren't any true standout adverts this year? Of course Pepsi, Coke and Bud Light were present, but surprisingly missing were Proctor & Gamble and Unilever. Even more surprising is the fact that Cargill and Flomax were present. It was especially disappointing that there were a lot of recycled, previously-ran adverts from some of the big players. What was up with that?
But what was truly sad is the 60 second spot dedicated to Revlon's "Not Fade Away." After that, I simply expected a Pearl tampon appearance from Tampax, or Maxi Pad adverts from Kotex. Luckily, neither happened.
Despite the lack of truly memorable adverts that I found appealing, there were some I thought were funny, which I subsequently liked. Here is J-Ho's Top Three favorite adverts of the evening.
1. "Live the Flavor" from Doritos—This advert is awesome! Sure, it is a little bit cheesy, but you've got to give it props considering it was made by five kids no older than 22 years old, shot in four days, for a total cost of $12.79. The awesomeness alone far overlooked the mere fact that this was a recycled advert that was previously shown.
(Official link here should the YouTube copy be taken down in the near future.)
2. "Not What It Seems" from FedEx Ground—This advert was clearly funny and memorable, despite the fact it employed low-key brain power for its humor.
(Official link here should the YouTube copy be taken down in the near future.)
3. "Classroom" by Bud Light—Okay, making fun of foreigners is old, not to mention a little bit culturally insensitive. But for being a foreigner myself, or semi-foreigner for that matter, I have all the power and ability to rate this as one of my favorites, because I can so totally relate!
(Official link here should the YouTube copy be taken down in the near future.)
Obviously it was really tough for me to come up with my own top three adverts, as there were some other ones I wish I could include. Hence, my Honorable Mentions below. These adverts deserve a second look or chance, and may very well have made the Top Three list should any of aforementioned adverts not aired.
<> "Chest Hair" from Snickers—Who doesn't enjoy a little bit of a Lady and the Tramp moment? The only reason why this was not in J-Ho's Top Three list is because it plays off of a sick, mental ailment among society at large: homophobia. This just furthers peoples' negative attitude towards gay people, when we should be moving forward out of bigotry.
(Official link here should the YouTube copy be taken down in the near future.)
<> "Clydesdale 'Spot'" from Budweiser—Yes, J-Ho can have a soft and sensitive side, and this advert totally appealed to that side. Touching and heartwarming, the only reason why this isn't in the Top Three list is because it wasn't manly enough, in terms of the context of the main attraction: Football.
(Official link here should the YouTube copy be taken down in the near future.)
Update 2007.01.05-16:51 : Ah, behold the power of the Internet. I finally found the "Clydesdale 'Spot'" commercial for Budweiser, thus the addition of the video to this blog. Enjoy!
Labels: adverts, funny, sports, television
Treasures of an Accidental Discovery
One of the few negative things about playing host to a party at your own house is that you have to clean up and put away the food you have laid out. Subsequently, such a chore will make you stay up late into the night, if the party lasted a while, which by all means is indicative of a successful party.
Because I stayed up late last night, I didn't wake up in a timely manner this morning. As I left the house around 11:00 for work, I did my usual commute down Peterson Ave. As I crossed a huge three-street intersection on my own green light, someone from one of the intersecting roads made a right turn onto Peterson Ave and almost caused an accident, never mind the fact that there was a huge, brightly colored SUV (me) charging down the road. As I slammed hard on the brakes, time slowed down. My right foot was pulsating to the feedback of the anti-lock brakes being engaged. I felt the thump of my laptop bag sliding off of the back seat and slamming into the back of my seat. Coins "strategically" placed throughout the car flew forward and bounced off of the windshield. My right hand was searching for that horn button to let the idiotic driver of a nice, expensive Mercedes Benz sedan how I felt about his little blind stunt. I should have just slammed into him, because I'm sure his insurance company probably could have gotten me a brand new vehicle, especially if I start bracing my neck and say, "Ouch" after the fact.
Anyway, nothing happened as far as accidents or injuries go. By the time we both got to the next light, said idiotic driver was wise not to stop right next to me in the other lane, but instead left a huge space between him and the pedestrian crosswalk. While waiting at the light, I bent down to pick up the miscellaneous coins lying about by my feet. As I looked down, I found a bottle of water lying dangerously close to the brake pedal. And to my pleasant surprise, I also found some other artifacts I thought I had lost months ago. Apparently, they were all just lying under my seat or something.
I was quick to forgive the idiotic driver and forget the close call incident just seconds prior, because I discovered some little treasures!
Yes, I'm that easy to please. =)
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Super Bowl XLI was Lost...
Like many other Chicagoans, I am sad and disappointed that the Bears lost, despite the explosive first five minutes of the game. But unlike many other Chicagoans, I am also glad that the Colts won. Not because I'm not a Chicago Bears fan, but because above all, I am a sports fan who believes in sportsmanship.
It is very unfortunate that the Bears' defense against the Colts' running game was lackluster, along with the many failed attempts to blitz Peyton Manning. We sacked Manning just once! Equally as unfortunate is the poor showing from the Bears' offensive squad. Grossman did not step up to the plate and perform the best he could. And it is sad that Benson had an early injury, for I am sure our offensive running game could have been just as charged as the game against the Saints was he there along with Jones.
Although my desire was for the Bears to win all the way, it is just a disappointment that we didn't do a good job playing the game. Five turnovers? Horrible snaps? Our performance today pretty much amounted to the Colts deserving the win. Fair and squarely.
Now, before you lambaste me as a heretic, let me explain simply why I said what I said. My coaches have always taught me to play strong and clean, earn and give respect. And if the opposing team won the game because of our own substandard, then go over and congratulate them as they deserved the title. The title, whether it be the Super Bowl (although I was never a football player in the NFL) or some regional championship, is something to be earned. It is not something trivial, or easily received. And our performance today showed that we did play to our best abilities. But that's not to say that there is a lack of desire or passion in each of the Bears players' hearts. I am sure they all wanted the prize just as much as I did, possibly more.
All I'm saying is I'm such a fan of sports and sportsmanship that I'm magnanimous enough to understand that I cannot be upset or bitter simply because we lost. You have to frame the whole context in the bigger picture, because like all unbiased referees say before all games to the team captains: "May the best team win." And Dungy, Manning and Co. definitely proved us today that their team was the best this evening.
On an almost unrelated note, I threw my first Super Bowl party this year. It was a smashing success. But I seriously overestimated the power of my 12 friends' drinking and eating abilities. Of the 36 cans of Miller Lite, we only made a tiny dent by putting away a dozen. And of the three large pizzas I ordered, I have half of all that left. To my friends' credit, they did bring their own alcohol despite my indication that I would provide the beer. I guess I'm in the minority who enjoys Miller Lite. And also to their credit, I made too much hors d'oeuvre. Assorted vegetable tray, cold meat cuts, baked taquitos, chicken tenders, chips and salsa and guacamole, cashews and honey roasted nuts. What can I say? I love to make food and entertain.
Now I just have to find the room and will to eat pizza, taquitos and chicken tenders for lunch and dinner for the next two weeks. Not to mention putting away a huge case of Miller Lite and dozens of assorted girly drinks* in my fridge. =)
* By girly drinks, I mean the following: Bacardi Silver RAZ, Smirnoff Ice, Pumpkin Ale, Mike's Hard Lemonade, Mike's Light Hard Lemonade (especially this, with only two grams of carbs), Cider Jack, Bud Light, Rolling Rock and Tommyknocker ButtHead. Okay, maybe the last two aren't exacly girly drinks, but like the others, the girls brought them. ;-)
Labels: food, friends, life, sports, television
Friday, February 02, 2007
Bears Fever
Thank God it's Friday! That means the weekend is upon us, and it will be two days till the Super Bowl. And I am fortunate enough to be working for a client who designated today as Bears Day (Jeans Day with Bears gear). So I showed up at work donning my Super Bowl XLI Urlacher jersey. I apologize that even though we have a killer view outside, I had to close the blinds to keep my whereabouts an undisclosed location. =) I make it a rule not to divulge who I work for.
Well, considering that I'm writing about Da Bears, I might as well share this video to pump you up now instead of waiting till Game Day!
Labels: sports