Counting Chickens . . . .

I've convinced myself so thoroughly that I'm moving to Portland regardless of what happens that I've actually started looking at online housing rentals. At this point I kind of feel like nothing is going to stop me.

Having said that, I'd like to take this opportunity to beg the universe to bite me on the ass on this one. Seriously, I'm begging you.

Edited to add: And of course, I'm likely to look fairly foolish if I end up having to stay in Reno.

I Was Not the Only One - Labyrinth edition

So, I really like the movie Labyrinth. But, while I enjoy it purely in a childlike and wholesome manner, I did always think the sweat pants David Bowie wore in that movie didn't quite leave enough to the imagination. I don't really bring it up that often, because I don't want people to ask me why I was looking at David Bowie's crotch. The problem is, once you notice that his sweats are uncomfortably revealing, you can't help but notice in EVERY scene. For years I thought I alone suffered this problem, but a quick search of the internet shows me that there were a wide variety of people who noticed and were affected by "Bowie's Bulge" as it has come to be called. With that in mind, please enjoy this mildly humorous re-edit of the making of labyrinth, with the description:

"A behind the scenes look at how the Muppet masters of Labyrinth created David Bowie's Crotch"



Edited to add:

You can imagine the entertainment of me seeing "the Nutcracker" for the first time a couple of years ago. It's not that I find it titillating, it's that I don't see men dressed quite like that every day. It takes some getting used to is all.

the Knights Doppler

All our work undone! The Knights Doppler must regroup quickly if we are to avoid disaster!


Weather Channel Accused of Pro-Weather Bias

Intermission

So, I talked to my boss about moving to Portland (like over a week ago). He was impressed with how well I had thought it through, and did not reject the idea out of hand. He said he would seriously consider it but a final answer would need to wait until he got back and can talk to the division director. In the meantime, he told me my job was to find out if health insurance would cover me if I were in Portland (answer: Yes! *Gleee*). So now I'm waiting on him to get back next week and talk with the division director and give me a firm decision on what he'd be willing to do one way or the other. He's a really cool guy, I expect he's honestly considering it and will give me an honest answer.

In the meantime, so as far as the Portland trip goes, I guess I'm in intermission. This is okay though, I am still sorting some reno stuff out such as work and getting my ex to come pick up her stuff. Ah, change. How I revel in it.

L'Homme Boit, Non!

Additional note to self: Dammit self, I said NOT to drink the pool water. It is the ick. ICK!

Reply to Self, RE: water swallowing: Well, maybe if you would pay more attention to your breathing and not try to inhale a half-second too early while your mouth is still technically underwater you wouldn't be faced with the "swallow ick water or drown right here." dilemma once a night.

H

Song of the Day

I like this song when I'm trying to navigate a bad day, although I usually listen to the Dandy Warhols cover.

Sister Golden Hair [Album Vers...

For the record,

"Well I tried to make it Sunday,
but I go so damned depressed,
that I set my sights on Monday and got myself undressed."

is probably one of my favorite song openings of all time. Not sure why.

The Haunting

ad stare
Originally uploaded by hbot3000

I've been walking by this ad on my table for about a week now and it creeps me out more and more every time I walk by. What is he staring at! Can he read my mind? Those eyes, those burning eyes! No, no, stay out of my head . . . get out of my head!

Me big smarty

I just figured out a couple nights ago, that the bizarre device next to the showers is not in fact an incinerator of unknown purpose, but rather a centrifuge to wring the water out of my bathing suit. Clearly, I never stopped to really think about what it was, because if I'd spent one second on it, the idea that it was an incinerator of any sort would have seemed unlikely.

In any case, I'm happy to have a device to wring the water out now, it's made life more convenient.

L'homme Boit

Note to self: Try not to drink half the pool tonight.

Sleepytime

God I love discovering new music.

Sleepytime in the Western Worl...

Your eyelids are made of lead
You can't keep them open
Cause its sleepytime
And that's no crime in the western world
Cause when the sun goes down
You’re bound to follow through
Sleeping through the afternoon
I just can't seem to leave my room
Waiting for the moon and a love so true
It's gonna see me through
You know it's gonna see me through

Swimmin'

I did 20 laps tonight, I am proud. I don't feel as tired as I think I should though. Either I'm doing it at exactly the right pace, or I need to attack the water a little harder. I don't know, my pulse rate is pretty steadily high, I think I'm doing okay. Two things to mention though:

1: Tired of but amused by the old men in the locker room, wandering naked, seemingly aimlessly.

2: There are two paper towel dispensers there that work off of motion sensors. Every night it's the same dance. Wave hand in front of sensor. Wave closer. Closer. Smack the sensor lightly to get it to work. I'm just amused I have to actually hit the sensor every time. Quality engineering.

And this was the song going through my head tonight as I swam:

Sink or Swim

I've been pretty good about swimming this week. For the last year or so my exercise routine has consisted of remembering to do wii fit once a week and maybe getting to the pool that often. The switch in my head that allows me to go to bed somewhere between midnight and 1am regularly has finally flipped and I've been getting up around 9am every day (this is a dramatic improvement over 1pm or on bad weeks 3pm). So for the last 4 days I've done wii fit in the morning (mostly yoga, with stomach/upper body exercises mixed in. I must, I must, I must reduce my bust). I used to think I could only handle 3 swimming sessions a week because I would end every session light-headed and exhausted. A friend helpfully pointed out that I was probably just doing the crawl wrong and breathing improperly and suggested maybe I just stick with the breast stroke. This was enormously helpful advice. I also figured out that maybe it would go better if I were wearing goggles. Kind of frustrating to be swimming with chlorine in your eyes all the time.

So, last night I entered the water, with my pink-lensed goggles (all they had at the store) and ready to swim. I had previously attributed my light-headedness and abbreviated swim sessions to the fact that I was just too out of shape to go for very long. You can imagine my delight at finding, when I stick to the breast stroke, I can swim for freaking forever, and with goggles on the experience was actually a delight. So I just kept swimming, and swimming, and swimming, until I realized I was actually smiling as I swam and laughing as I paused occasionally between laps. The last 5 laps I was imagining I was aquaman escaping the clutches of Black Mantis and I don't regret it. Well, maybe Aquaman's slightly chubby, little known sidekick "the Manatee" (that one was for you KVC). In any case, I haven't been that happy in a long time. And I realized that, by nature, I'm kind of a happy guy. I like being happy, I like being a goofball when I'm happy, and I'm not sure I give a flying flip if people don't like that about me. It was a good feeling.

The impact of last night on today is this: if I can swim like that then I am more capable than I thought I was. Today I am going to ask my boss about telecommuting from Portland. His answer is the crucial factor in determining whether I will be going with or against the current in moving to Portland. I hope he accepts the idea (hope, hope, hope), but you know what? It doesn't matter. Whether the current is with me or against me, I can swim for freaking forever.

Deep Breaths

So, after deciding that a year was long enough to pay for $300 worth of cell phone usage every month for an ex, and after my brother said he didn't really need to use my own phone:

Verizon cell phone account: Cancelled.

Operator: "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have a reason for cancelling? You're making me cry."

Me: "I don't want to pay for cell phones for my brother and ex and you don't have an iphone. Your manipulation suffers a critical miss."

After the happy dance was done, I just couldn't stop.

Newspaper subscription (taken at behest of the ex and which I don't read): Cancelled.

Operator: "Is there a reason for your cancellation? Seriously, you are making me cry here."

Me: "I don't read your paper version, I DO read your online news, I don't want it anymore, isn't this reason enough?"

And then it was time to consider what other monthly fees I was paying for but not using:

City of Heroes Subscription: Cancelled.

Website: "Why are you canceling your subscription? Did we do something wrong? We used to have such a good thing going. The world would frighten you, and you would retreat into our special-made world where you can be super-hero. Don't you want to be a super-hero?"

Me: "I do. But I"m not 12 anymore, and there's not much sadder than an overweight guy, who has no reason not to be in shape, role-playing a buff, manly super-hero avatar in a digital world 6 hours a day. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is face the real world instead of hiding from it."

Website: "That's silly and cheesy and something real manly superhero men wouldn't say."

Me: *Quirks eyebrow, hits cancel*

And then, the moment of truth. Could I destroy the Monster? I logged into the account page, and once started could not be stopped.



World of Warcraft Subscription: Cancelled.

WoW website: "Hey! Where ya been! We missed you. Increasing your subscription period to one year? Yes! I mean . . . cool, whatever, we're just happy if you' . . . hey, what are you doing with that cancel subscription button?"

Me: "I'm tired of hiding in your world."

Wow Website: "Hey, hey, hey, let's not get crazy now. Why don't you go ahead and just knock it down to a one-month subscription, see how it goes okay? Look, the thought of you leaving has made this peon cry."

Me: "I'm not interested. I'm going to select the cancel button again."

Wow Website: "Look, now this peon is just sobbing. Listen you son of a bitch, we've given you a lot of goddamn cool shit. You know what fun it is to fly a dragon through floating spires of rock? That was us. Meeting your new Australian friends? That was me. All those other accomplishments? Me. Belay that cancel subscription you ungrateful little bastard."

Me: "Can you name me one accomplishment in your game that would have benefitted me in the real world? I poured hours and hours and hours of time into accomplishments that are absolutely meaningless outside of your world. I was a reservoir of potential and creative energy, which instead of being channeled into making myself and the world better in some small way, I mistakenly directed into your world where it will never help anyone. Your world is meaningless."

Wow Website: " . . . . but look at the peon graphic, he's so SAD!"

Me: *hits cancel subcription*

Wow Website: "Fine, do what you want. You'll be back. Everyone comes back."

Me: "We'll see. I wouldn't hold my breath. Oh, and Wow?"

Wow Website: *looks back hopefully for a last minute change of heart* " . . Yes?"

Me: "Fuck you and your crying peon."

Note to my Australian friends: I still love you all and will remain in contact.

Dissonance

To be fair, I asked Reno to sing a song for me, and this is the song it sang:

Black Abyss - Black Tide

Note especially the lyrics:

This is the Black Abyss
My life's apocalypse
Eternal Suffering
No future for me to see
...
As my life rots away
I long the day of my decay
I'll soon be there,
in death's grasp
It won't let go, now I'm dead!
This paranoia, I can't last
These days are now my last
The sense of evil is closing in
It is a phobia that kills within!

Oh Reno, you sing so sweetly to me.

Honestly this song does a pretty good, if overly dramatic, job of summing up my feelings about living in Reno.

The song below sums up my feelings about living in Portland. And now you can look at me quizzically and wonder why this decision is so hard for me. (Answer: cause I looove my job in Reno but it's about the only thing).

Resonance

I asked the city of Portland to sing to me, and this is the song it sang:



Pay attention to lyrics of verses as well if you want the full impression.

Things I can't say on facebook

Okay, this is a horrible joke and I'm not particularly proud of it, but I have to share so I can get it out of my head. It probably only makes sense and could possibly be funny if you grew up with certain phrases.

In response to someone linking me a cheesy religious music video called "Jesus touched me," my first thought was, "Show me on the doll where Jesus touched you."

Of course, to save the moment a believer might point solemnly at the heart. And what was once bordering on irreverence is now a touching, religious experience.

Ba dum bum ching.

Deep Thought

It's shocking how early I can get up when I go to bed before 1am. That probably says too much about me.

Video of the Day

As linked from Andrew Sullivan's blog: Procrastination

The terrible Secret of Soylent H

I'm kind of in a fluxy kinda mood recently and have been increasingly unsatisfied with my user name and the name of the blog. So I've changed it to something I find more amusing, and reserve the right to change it again later if I find a title/user name that entertains me more. So . . . Welcome to Soylent H, home to silliness, and badly acted seriousness.

Other names considered in order of most-considered to least-considered:

Metamorphic H and the Chrysalis of Destiny

Preparation H and the Burning Fires within

Syphilitic H and Legacy of Past Mistakes



Sadly, one of those actually was under serious consideration.

Comments are again more open, although this time, they will need the moderator's approval before posting, so that certain foul commenters only pester me and not the rest of you.

TEAR-E

You know you're emotionally constipated when you tear up at the smallest of emotional moments while watching WALL-E.