Random Esquire

This is my friend’s eye.  The first time I met her and saw her eyes, I did a double take and decided I wanted a picture.  It only took 3 more months of cajoling to get it.

Tilt-Shifted:

Close-up Picture after the Cut.

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Last Wednesday, I took off work so I could accompany Besos to the hospital for an endoscopy.  I took along my camera.  This is because it is not every day that you get to see the inside of someone’s stomach and I wanted to document said procedure for posterity.  And when I say “for posterity”, I mean “for the blog.”

This may come as a shock but sometimes, I am annoying.  Like, really annoying.  That is exactly how I seemed when I bounced into her place, big grin on and camera ready to rock and roll.  Except, did you know this …?  that being the person who is going to get the endoscopy is actually a lot less fun than being the person who gets to stare at the inside of a stomach?

Me:  “Do you think they’ll let me in with you? Do you think they’ll let me film it?”

Besos:  “NO AND NO.”

Me:  “I think if you consent, maybe I can watch.”

Besos:  “We’ll see.”

Me:  “Do you think they’ll let me film it?”

Besos: “NO.  I am telling you NO.  You can not film it. I am saying NO.”

Me:  *Sad Trombone Sound*

Guess what?  They didn’t let me in.   Otherwise, I could be showing you a picture of the inside of a Besostomach.  I know! Bogus, right?

So, that was Wednesday.  My day for the hospital came last night. (more…)

1.  Have you ever seen this?  A woman has a big smile on her face but then, in order to remove said smile, she sort of has to pull her top lip down over her top teeth, thereby – for a brief moment – making an odd monkey face?  I find this slightly off-putting.

2.  I see a dude on my way to work often and his head is just too small for his body.  I think I’ve even written about this before.  It isn’t vastly too small; it’s just slightly too small for his body.  Just enough for me to notice from the corner of my vision.  As if this weren’t enough, the guy wears those Transition lenses and so his glasses are that odd tinted color on very sunny days.  I mean, that all just makes for an odd package, right?

3.  I got into a minor confrontation on Sunday.  I was standing along the street in Chinatown with Besos and another friend waiting for Sitcom and her boyfriend when we were approached by an apparently homeless man who said something about helping him get a bowl of soup.

Now, if you know me at all, you know that I actually have a bit of a soft spot when it comes to this – at times.  This, however, was not one of those times.

I said, “No.”  He stood there and said something like, “Hey…I’m just asking for…” with a slight asshole tone.

And I said, “NO. Keep moving.”

He got a little aggressive and said, “YOU keep moving.”

I said, “I was standing here. You were moving. So I can’t keep moving.”

It went on a little longer after that.  Then at some point, you realize that you’re having a perfectly ridiculous conversation with a crazy person.  I’m not sure which one of us realized this first.  But he moved on.

4.  I’m over watching Hoarders. Every episode is the same.  And now, even with intervention, some part of cheers when the addicted person is like, “Hell no, I’m not going.”  And then doesn’t go to treatment!  Balls out.  I realize that is all kinds of wrong.  But there you have it.

5.  Speaking of balls out, Instigator is all kinds of balls out at work lately.  She has no problem saying to the powers that be, “You suck!”  Churro and I decided she has the biggest balls in the office.  She bought me lunch yesterday.  She made a point to suggest I mention this because I have previously mentioned taking her to lunch and she did not appreciate sounding like a kept woman.  I could have reassured her by noting that no one would be under that impression simply due to the tracks she was leaving behind her… from her balls dragging on the ground.

But I didn’t.

How did your parents meet each other?

My father was in the army and was stationed overseas. He met my mother through a friend.  They were married on an army base.

That’s the short and sweet of it.  I thought of it recently because it occurred to me that everyone in my family seems drawn to someone of a different ethnic background.  If you take either of my parents, my sister or me – each of us is married to (or, in my case, dating) someone with a different first language.

I attribute this to the fact that in order for anyone to tolerate dating someone in the family, he or she needs to have the option of chalking up half of the crap that comes out of our mouths to a “lost in translation” type of misunderstanding.  Because not only are the first languages different from our own – none of them are alike.

We like DIFFERENT.

So, I’m curious… How did your parents meet? Are they pretty alike? or different?

This week is a very special week for me.

I will finish paying off my six-figure student-momofuku-loans.  At that point… I will be 100% debt free.  No credit card debt, no mortgage, no car payment, and most importantly… NO STUDENT LOANS.

And you know what?

I’d like a goddamn letter.

I got a really nice letter when I got into Notre Dame.  And then Law School.  Really nice letters that congratulated me on my opportunity to attend their fine institution and thereby create a black hole of debt that amounted to a small mortgage for a home inside my head that not only provides no shelter but also punishes me for any ability to pay it off by not cutting me a tax break.

It doesn’t have to be fancy.  Just a short and sweet letter that says something like, “Wow.  We didn’t think it could be done.  I mean, we chalk most of you six figure kids up to Default or Die.  But you managed to do it.  Good job!” or even, “Congratulations!  You’re free.”

Something.

I was feeling pretty kick ass about not having any debt until I realized I also don’t own a bloody thing, either. Well, I haven’t bought a condo.  I have a car and a decent amount of savings.  I just looked around my place and came eye to eye with Little Filthy.  I looked at him and he looked back at me.  And then he jumped on me and licked my face.

Okay, I own a monster, too.

Life is good!

If you’ve ever sat at a light that just turned green and been slow to get your ass moving, the person honking the horn behind you may have been me.  You know why?  Cause I’m not here for my health, asshole.  Get moving.

Now, look, I don’t abuse the horn.  I don’t honk for no darn reason.  I honk for specific reasons.  The primary one is to say, “Pay attention.”

I wouldn’t honk at a taxi that was dropping people off in front of me.  I figure the people know that cars are waiting and, as a result, will move their ass with some speed.  Of course, if there appears to be some dilly dally bullshit going on, I might honk as if to say, “You stupid tourist, did you not know you’d have to pay the taxi when the ride was over? Keep an eye on the meter and have your money ready so that you can get your ass moving when the taxi stops.”   Yes. I can say all that with the mere honk of my horn.

Also, I will honk at a pedestrian on special occasions.  Like, for instance, if I have a green left turn arrow and you decide to cross the street because you think you have priority, I may honk at you.  And if you drop your groceries in shock, I will feel badly for a second but then will feel better when I drive over your oranges – but then angry again when I realize I’m dragging your now empty gallon milk jug under my car.

Okay, I may not be that bad.  It’s just that I don’t really consider it really driving unless I honk my horn. Once, a past girlfriend of mine was driving down the street and when someone cut her off, I took it upon myself to lean over and honk the horn for her.  Now, somehow, the horn got stuck and wouldn’t release and so the horn was blaring the entire way down the street.  I just want to note that 1) a woman’s look can be louder than a horn and 2) I don’t do that anymore.

So I want to know:  Are you a honker? Do you live in a big city or more suburbia?

*HONK!*

I’m sort of fascinated with the different levels of comfort people have with each other regarding bathroom things.

For instance, there was the Hair on Soap.

Recently, I wondered about sharing bath towels.

I asked a few people and the reaction is all over the map.

Some people don’t care at all.  Other people?  Other people are downright violent about this topic.

SingleMomMindy said, “No WAY!”  When I asked why, precisely, her response was to inform me that she “wouldn’t share underwear either.”  I asked if she thought it was fair to compare a towel to underwear.

“I do.”

My friend, Bev, said she’d rather share a toothbrush than a bath towel!

Bath towel doesn’t really bother me.  Whatever. At least they were clean when they used it, right?  Underwear?  Well, I assume by sharing underwear, you mean that you’d be putting it on clean – though it seems other issues at work with that one, aside from just sanitary ones.    But toothbrush!  That’s interesting to me.

So, I’m curious:

1. What do you think about sharing a bath towel with your better half?
2. Not right when they are done using it but after it has dried.and
3. Which would you rather share with your better half?  A toothbrush or a towel?

8 Cookies + Beers + 6 Shots at the Bar = Socks on your teeth in the morning.

I could do the mathematical proof for you.

But let’s just take my word on this one.

1.  I found Little Filthy with his front paws straddling the toilet, face down into the bowl.  I would have scolded him but having felt rather the same way, I just pulled him out the skipped the lecture.

2.   Buddy had a rough day trying for the fourth time to set up a bank account.  Here’s how it went:

Buddy:  I went to the bank to set up an account and the lady did it wrong FOUR times.

Not good for my blood pressure.
But the lady had nice hands.
So.
There was that.

RandomEsq:  Those must have been some really nice hands.

Buddy:  I admired them.  Four times.

RandomEsq:  Nice.

Buddy:  If she had been a troll, I would have thrown a fit.

I know, it’s awful.
But that’s the kind of day it’s been.
So who cares?

3.  You know what sucks?  When you can’t decide which you’d like more: a drink or a cigarette.

Especially when you aren’t a big drinker and when you’ve quit smoking.

4.  I’ve been trying my hand at tilt-shift photography – it tends to make things look like they are miniatures.  Here’s a picture from Venice, one from Chicago and an eyeball.

Rubbermoon sent me some interesting glass slides of scenes from various locations.  It’s what you imagine a picture might look like if it was printed on glass.  Very interesting!  I took pictures of them with the sun looking through.  Each slide was labeled with some indication of the location.

Swiss Lakes

Blue Lakes of Italy

Mediterranean

Norway