Volunteering

As nice as I am to old people, I have to admit I don't contribute much else to society. I'm tired of feeling bad about it, but not willing to ... change. I'm not a great liar either, so that won't work. But I think I've found a loophole. From now on, in my spare time, I volunteer. This is true. I will work it into conversation.

The trick is to change the subject as quickly as possible after saying it. I don't want anyone asking for specifics, because I'm volunteering to watch TV, volunteering to eat burritos, volunteering to break things and trip constantly, volunteering to not donate money or help anyone, etc. But that takes too long to say. I will sum all of this up by condensing it into "I volunteer." If people want to assume that I'm washing the feet of the poor and walking groups of blind orphan dogs on the beach, so be it.

Dealing with old people

Most everybody hates old people and treats them like garbage, but not me. I'm great at humoring people, which comes in handy when dealing with the elderly - pretending a story is interesting, retelling stories multiple times with the same enthusiasm, etc. They appreciate that.

One thing I'm really good at is teaching old people how to do something obvious on a computer without making them feel like idiots. I just say things like "I think" and "I'm not sure" even though I'm definitely sure. I might say "ummm" while I pretend to figure something out that I already know. Most people probably aren't as nice as me. It's just the way I was raised.

"How do you open the file? Ummm, let me see. Try clicking it. No? OK, well .... maybe try clicking it twice? Yeah try that. Oh! Well there you go! Who knew? I know, typewriters were the shit. What? Actually I don't think they like being called that anymore. I'm not sure, I think maybe some people find it offensive."

And off they go with confidence, feeling as if they're keeping up with the youth, and writing me into their will.

Am I superstitious?

Suppose I'm watching a Cowboys game and we're winning convincingly (it's happened). I'm not likely to switch seats, change positions, eat anything, put on or take off a jacket/sweater, and I like my fingers to be in the same order. But I'd also like to think I'm not superstitious. Does that make sense?

My only argument is that I'm not superstitious, I do these things just in case. I'm just playing it safe. It can't hurt for me to do everything the same way, but if I switch something up, maybe it will. But just maybe. I think superstitious people (idiots!) think these things are factual/true. They have a ritual, or strict rules. Me? I'm just doing whatever I can to help the team. Don't wanna screw it up.

Roman Ramelet

My issues with cooking are laziness, impatience, a lack of ingredients, and an unwillingness to purchase said ingredients or measure anything at all. Knowing this only because of my gender, I was given "A Man, A Can, A Plan, A Second Helping" by a future Iron Chef who may or may not have been mocking me.

The cookbook has pictures of each ingredient with plus signs in crayon, and each recipe has at least one canned food. It's a little deceiving because underneath the "ingredient + ingredient + ingredient" it reads in smaller print "also, a bunch of other shit." Nevertheless, it's a fool-proof cookbook with thick cardboard pages you might find in a Dr. Seuss book. No pop-ups, unfortunately.

I chose to try the "Roman Ramelet" recipe first because I had almost every single ingredient already. Again, the laziness. It's essentially an egg pizza, with noodles, mushrooms and a shitload of cheese. Ingredients:

Six eggs - Check.
Sun-dried tomato bits - Disgusting. They're out.
4 oz. sliced mushrooms - Make that a handful.
Pizza sauce - Check.
Oriental top ramen - Racist. Replace with mongoloid top ramen.
1/2 cup shredded provolone - Swap for 4-cheese Italian and whatever else was in the fridge.
2 tbsp. grated Parmesan - Make that a lot of good, heavy shakes.
1/4 tsp. salt - A little.
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper - Some.

Prep - Take sweatshirt off to ensure full range of motion. Turn TV on to ensure complete concentration. Drink beer to calm nerves and attack meal with confidence.

A simple recipe can always be screwed up by me. First of all, I discovered that half the carton of eggs that I had bought previously were either cracked open or stuck in the carton. I was going to be one short, so I found one that was only stuck, cracked it while still in the carton and let it drip into the bowl. Pure genius. Problem number two came when I dumped half the noodles into the sink while straining them with a plate.

Basically, the noodles are added to everything else and put into a pan, which is cooked on the stove for five minutes and then in the oven for another three or four minutes. Pizza sauce goes on top.

The bad - I thought the pizza sauce took over a little bit, and I'd only use half the can next time. Could use some sausage in addition to the mushrooms. Not sure what the noodles added. My biggest problem is with these god damn serving sizes. I finished three-quarters of it in one sitting, but the book says it makes eight servings! Why are all cookbooks so conservative?! Why must they make me feel like a pig?! Eight servings - try two you son of a bitch book!

The good - I think I've memorized how to make this and now can play around with it a little bit. And overall, this thing tasted really damn good. The texture was perfect, the flavor was good, um, I still say it's impossible to add too much Parmesan to anything ... I can't describe food. It's impossible. It's a fucking egg pizza, what's not to like?

That librarian is going down!

Ah, kicking people's asses. What's more enjoyable? Only a nerd like me would go to the library to learn how to do it. And only a foolish librarian would supply the information. Who does she think I'm going to practice my moves on? It's fresh in my brain and I know she won't scream for help!

The first 10 chapters of "Iceman: My Fighting Life" were mostly about the physics of black holes, as well as Chuck Liddell's theories on their creation, existence and purpose. He makes a compelling argument when he said:

"If ultra-high-energy collisions of particles in a particle accelerator can create microscopic black holes, it is expected that all types of particles will be emitted by black hole evaporation, providing key evidence for any grand unified theory."

It's a solid point, made better when he uses his TKO wins over Tito Ortiz as evidence. He talks more of his life in the later chapters, and offers the advice of basically being more like him and less like you.

"Don't Always Follow Mom's Advice" is good advice ... when trying to hurt someone at least, and it's tough to argue with the chapter "Why? Cause Screw Them." I know it's how I've always felt. I didn't agree with Chapter 27, "Losing As A Man Is Better Than Winning As A Coward," however. Seems to me that only one of those people won, and I'd also like to think there's a middle ground, some sort of boyish victory that I can aim for.

In the end, did I learn the mixed martial arts moves I was hoping to? No. Was I reborn as a badass? I think so. Did I shave a mohawk into my head? Literally impossible for me. Will I still attack the librarian? Most likely. Do I recommend the book? 100 percent. If only to keep it out of the hands of librarians.

Small epiphany

My new roommates have discovered that I'm not a bible-loving Republican. Quite upsetting to them. Automatically, I became a gay, vegetarian, gun-hating hippie. For a second, I almost told them I'd much rather just argue politics and leave religion alone. Neither of us is going to change our mind on that subject, right? It doesn't matter how great my arguments are. Like my favorite, "Can Jesus microwave a burrito so hot, that he himself could not eat it?"

But I had a small epiphany. I don't have any better of a chance to win a political argument with them. Logic be damned, some people follow their political party like a religion. Candidates are infallible saviors, commentators are prophets, and the Word cannot be disputed. When otherwise educated, logical people begin to defend the country's use of torture for no other reason than their party was in charge when it happened, all hope of reasoning with them is lost.

Meteor showers destroy nothing

A couple friends informed me via facebook that there were meteor showers last week, so I decided to watch and post my review. For about three minutes, I stood outside on the sidewalk, staring in the general direction of up. I saw something bright like a star moving slowly. It could have been a meteor. It also could've been a plane. It could've been a giraffe humping an elephant, I mean let's be honest, everything looks the same when it's the size of a dot. All in all, I'd have to say it was the best meteor shower I've ever seen, and I give it a solid B+. It would've gotten an A if a major metropolitan city had been destroyed. A+ for destroying the 80 or 405 freeways.