Forever 21

Forever 21 is inversely proportional to my happiness. I love my soon to be wife, but I cannot wait to make enough money that I can just hand over a black card and not fear the reaper. And let there be no doubt that women's fashion is the reaper.

Shoes and accessories are right below meth as the most addictive substances on earth. I'm all for
stimulating the economy, but another half hour surrounded by tinny voices and the echoes of Twilight gossip are going to kill me.

I already want to tell my kids to turn their music down.

And Dana, baby, if you read this- you look beautiful. Despite my bitterness.


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Location:Tomball Pkwy,Houston,United States

Work Work Work

I'm not even going to TRY to put an artistic, or sardonic, or ironic twist to this post because I am TIRED.

TIRED!!!!

I haven't seen my buddies in four, going on five months. Well, except for Dugan's birthday- which was fun. Damnit Sean, you HAD to move to Katy.

I guess we're at that age where you decide to hunker down and work, and save and build.... or try to stretch out that college life a few more years. Well boys, I am TIRED.

But I'm happy.

I'm nine months from getting married, just got promoted and love each day more than the last. But it comes at a price, I think. For instance, I'm ranked WAY too low on the MWF leaderboard. I mean, how am I supposed to improve my kill ratio with a full time job?!?

And, I had to all out cancel my World of Warcraft account all together. That, consequently really helped my weight loss since my daily consumption of Mountain Dew really fell.

I guess at the end of the day, I really value all of the positive change and growth. But damnit, how many days do we have left to BE kids before we HAVE kids?

** To all of you trying: Josh is a wonderful name. It means "God's chosen leader". Just a thought.

Feliz Ano Nuevo

Happy New Year folks. Last year was rough, but it ended on a good note, I think. The promise of really starting a new life with Dana, a new job and a little more stability left me optimistic and largely renewed. I heard a man say that you need four things in life: something to do, something to believe in, someone to love and something to hope for. So far, I'm batting 1.000 in 2010.

All the changes were phenomenal, but I learned that even positive change can be stressful. I have all the elasticity of a No. 2 pencil, and while the changes have been challenging, I finally have a firm sense of priorities, sacrifice and fulfillment. It was a hell of a road getting here.

We all think that we learn these wonderful life lessons through mentors or epiphanies. But in reality, the lessons whose weight we learn to measure with the greatest precision come from our failures and the leaps of faith that leave us rearranging our faces. But as another wise man told me, "It's not how many times you get knocked down, it's how many times you get up."

Now if all that wisdom is cloaked in vagueness it is because I prefer to keep some shortcomings private. Do you like hot dogs and wine? Of course you do. You're an upper-middle class American sophisticate. Well, fellow patriot, if you saw the process of how our favorite snacks are made you would either be repulsed or bored to tears. The same applies to my lessons. The guts we hide, the fruits we share with dear friends.

Oh The Burbs

I'm in a war, again. No, not the job hunt, the "hither hence friends, to the 'burbs" war. It is brutal. There are many factions in this conflict, all of whom have staked their territory and are fiercely recruiting to their areas.

For instance, a certain couple, who shall remain nameless, is actively recruiting all you recently married and soon-to-be-married couples to, well, I won't mention the area but let's just say it sounds like "Schmeyerland". Don't go. Six-Ten traffic, and your kids will have to compete with all those national merit scholars from Bellaire. Don't do that to your hypothetical children.

There are others, many others, all over town. Some in Katy, some in the Woodlands. You will have to make a choice, but know this: if you move to Cypress I will help paint your house as well. And we'll hang out, bar-b-que, maybe we'll go work out at Lifetime Fitness. What are you going to do in Bellaire, play chess?

So listen friends, when it comes time to make that decision of where you and your significant other are going to live, remember me, your old buddy Josh, who loves kids and puppies, is handy around the house and has plenty of yard knowledge. Hither hence to Cypress.

He's Back!

Hello Reader. I know I was gone longer than you expected. I know I went out for a pack of cigarettes and left you holding the baby, and I'm sorry. But I'm back, and I thank you for reading again. I hope you've been well.

I don't want to bore you with where I've been, or what I've been up to. Just know that I missed you. Ok, if we're going to reconnect, here's the run down: I went to UH for the summer and did well, we have another dog, Sadie, I'm working for my parents while I job hunt.

Extrapolate at your own will.

Of course, more happened. No, that wasn't ALL I was up to, but those are some of the relevant parts. The rest I prefer not to add to the eternal cyber-record.

For those of you that feel that you are withering away at your jobs, I offer this- take a vacation, a day off, find a hobby to relieve stress, do what you have to do to not make any overly-romantic impulsive decisions. The market is brutal right now. Forget about retail jobs. Between cutbacks and hiring freezes, some major retailers like Gap are reporting and increase of 33% in job applications.

And the folks applying to the old "college stand-by" jobs are not your fresh faced post adolescents looking to break through. These applicants are well educated and significantly over-qualified.

There was a time when being a Marine veteran, bilingual, and having work experience was enough to help my resume float to the top, but not these days. I think things are getting better, slowly. For instance I noticed that last year, and well into this one, that the average age of the check out people had risen. I wasn't used to so many forty and fifty somethings (if not older) bagging groceries. I couldn't let these good people bag my Blue Bell and whole wheat. on more than one occasion I rushed to bag with them.

But now that I'm out of the cocoon of school and banging in the job market, I feel like I'm in for a fight!

How dare I re-open the blog with a stream-of-consciousness! But, I gotta tell you. This is the way I'm stepping out there. Reaching down and grabbing a hand full of boot-strap.

I hope you're well Reader, it's good to be back. Wherever this is.

Windfall

Yesterday, fortunes smiled on me. The Geniuses at the Apple store were unable to fix my Mac, so they ended up having to give me a brand new one. I've spent countless dollars on warranties for anything over a hundred bucks and one finally paid dividends.

Later that day, my brother-in-law gave Dana and I four Diamond level tickets to the Astros game. The best thing about sitting right behind home plate: the food. Free hamburgers, hot dogs, cheesecake, ice cream, soda, peanuts, popcorn, frozen lemonade, cookies, brownies, fried chicken, and on and on. And it's amazing how they treat you down there. Even the cops are chipper. "Thank you, sir, for joining us today. Have a safe drive home."

No, thank you officer.

Now that I've cashed out my Karma account, I wonder what this week will bring.

My deep, dark secret

My dog sucks my ear lobes. I don't willingly let her do it, but as I sit on the couch in a television induced stupor, I snap back to reality when a dog tongue reaches my ear drum, or I feel the greedy suckling of a hungry puppy at my ear lobe. I really hope my ear lobes don't look like dog teats. That might actually bring down my self esteem. There's no preparing for that one ahead of time. You just have to deal with whether or not your ears look like canine reproductive organs.

We got ATT U-Verse yesterday. The set up took quite a long time, but the DVR's geek factor made it worthwhile. I only have one concern about our new cable system: there is a bright blue light on the cable box that never turns off. It isn't noticeable at all while you're watching tv, but once the lights are off, and you're comfortably in bed, you can't help but feel like you're being video taped. Or maybe like you're looking into a movie projector. Or being abducted by aliens. Or maybe you CAN take too much NyQuil and all of this is just an unsettling episode.

But since there was no NyQuil involved last night, the blue light was in fact annoying as all hell. Not ALL hell, just the ring of fire where the devil tortures you with his handy dandy pen light. The only solution was to put a pair of socks over the light, to which Dana commented, just as I was drifting off, "I hope those don't catch on fire." Thanks babe. I'm desperately trying to avoid dreaming about being molested by the family dog and now I have to deny the fear that our house might burn down.

Reader, when you go into a slump, when life becomes mundane or frustrating, you have to look for the humor in your day. It's often in the details, or in the akward, slobbery affection of an amorous pooch.