Ever Felt Like this?

Have you ever...let's say you know a lot about, we'll say, "corn." You're not a certified expert or anything, but you know way more about corn than most. You find yourself in a social situation, which has always been awkward for you because you have had a sweating condition since your youth that causes you to sweat at inopportune times regardless of temperature. Compound this by the fact that you have gained 24 pounds since leaving Los Angeles and you still try to fit into the same clothes, only now you are uncomfortable and feel like a sausage breaking out of it's skin. Then it hits you, no one around you gives a shit about corn. You try to join conversations but no one in interested in this creepy, sweaty guy rambling on about corn. You try to "suck it in" but unannounced to you, where your gut normally resides, the top of your already too tight pants have folded over the top of your belt. At first you think people are snickering because of your constant corn conversation, but as you try to loosen your vacuumed on shirt you see what they are really laughing about.

Next thing you know, you are standing in the corner, sweating profusely, mumbling about corn and wiping a little bit of drool from your lips. It is then, and only then, that you think of the witty things you could have said, perhaps to be funny or even "cool." It is far too late for that at this point. You couldn't come up with those words at the perfect time because of your constant self consciousness and too much room in your brain being rented by the facts about corn. People glance in your direction, obviously asking others, "Did you see that guy? What was his deal?" You try to find something to do with your hands. You end up with one pinky in your back pocket and your other arm folded across your chest, by itself. So here you are, in some sort of failed "Pledge of Allegiance" pose but there isn't a flag in sight.

You apishly put your arms down and as you calmly slide them into your pockets you realize your zipper is down. How long? From minute one, it is too long. You find a corner and with as much grace as you can muster, zip up. Of course at that very moment, security sees you and tells you that you can't do that in public. They escort you out, in front of everyone, blatantly. This is definitely one of the worst Christmas parties you have ever been to.

Have you ever felt like that? No? Um, yeah, me neither.

Moving on...to Word Press.

I will post dual blogs for a bit, one here and one on Word Press. You can subscribe to: http://cavanaughconsidering.wordpress.com. This will replace my "blogger" blog.

Thanks!

Ryan

iFrustrated

Today is the first day of the WWDC in San Francisco. It starts in a few hours but there have been weeks of buzz about it. I bought an iPhone two weeks ago. I asked AT&T and Best Buy, "I heard that there is a new iPhone coming out this summer. 32gb?" Both assured me, there is not a new phone coming out, just the 3.0 upgrade. Now I am sure the new phone is coming out, probably announced today. That pisses me off. I have never had any luck whatsoever with Apple's customer service. I have had 2 iPods that the hard drives failed. Both a month out of warranty. At the Apple store, they looked at me with pitty and kept reminding me I should have gotten the extended plan. Or, as I took it, "we don't care about you chump! We make millions off of plenty of people, why should we give a crap what you think. We're Apple, you ain't sh*t." The lady next to me had a MacBook that went out of warranty the next day, when she heard my ranting she asked if she would have had to buy a new laptop if she had been a day late and the "genius" said, "Yup."

This brings me to my latest fear. "Hey, I was told there wouldn't be a new iPhone, and there is. I don't want this one, I want the new one." I have gone over some strategies in my head. I take the iphone back within 30 days, tell them I don't like it, wait for the new one and get it then. Sell my iPhone on craigslist, then use the money to buy the new one when it is released. I would probably die of a heart attack if I went to Best Buy and said the above quote and they said, "Here. Take the new iPhone. I would be frustrated too if I were you. We aim to exceed your expectations of customer service and so does Apple. Enjoy." Imagine???

I guess I'm like an addict. I have never felt "love" from Apple. I don't think they care about their consumers, yet I continue to use mac exclusively. I gues it is a love/hate thing. I'm the dork who has an Apple OSX keychain. Yes, I should have researched it a little more on the internet, but even a few weeks ago the concensus seemed to be that a new iPhone wasn't coming. I just wish for once Apple would do right by me and show me a little "love" for the 3 iPods that I have owned, the MacBook Pro, the iMac, the iPhone and the thousands I have spent on apps and iTunes. Oh yeah, and the keychain. I have read about a few people in my situation and I look forward to reading how badly it hurt when they got screwed. Yeah, not even a kiss. If a new iPhone comes out of WWDC this week, you'll see me wincing as I walk from the pain. Knowing me though, I'll still answer my iPhone and use my iPod as I mow the lawn, all the while cursing Apple for laughing at me behind my back. I know they are.

WTF will happen to words?

Good morning. I haven't posted in a while, I figured my two posts might saturate the internet and cause all kinds of turmoil so I took a break.

I love technology and social media. I love my iPhone, I love my MacBook Pro, and I love learning about the new tech stuff daily. I can't help but notice the trends to make everything shorter. This is not a new concept, but I wonder how far it goes. Now we shorten a URL to a few random characters, we say (or type) complete sentences with very few actual words and we have become impatient with email (it is archaic and takes too long.)

Believe me, I am guilty as well. I have never typed LMAO (excepting just now) but I do enjoy the rapid fire options available in communicating today. I know there is value in saving time, but as Dane Cook notes, "In the future the DMV will still take like 9 f'n seconds." Everything is abbreviated, so much so that there are online dictionaries of sorts to help you understand how some abbreviations can mean several things, depending on context. Will novels become pamphlets in the future? Will we actually verbally communicate in an abbreviated form?

Will Websters dictionary become a book of abbreviations? I get concerned when I hear younger people talk to each other in such broken or incorrect English. I also read blogs with so many typos. I mean, people who make a living typing blogs. Today I saw that a major blogger had "payed" big money for something. I can't wait for the millions who read this blog (okay, the three of you) to point out my mistakes. I don't get paid to do this, in fact, I'm hoping someone will pay me not to do this.

I don't have the answer. At this point I have already forgotten the question. See? It all happens so fast. What do you think. Should we pay people to write opinions if they can't spell? The opinion still gets through, but does the acceptance of sub par English and bad grammar become accepted too? Do we perpetuate shrinking the vocabulary world wide? In the future will reading Shakespeare be considered reading a foreign language? I pray thee, whilst thou wax poetic? BRB!

The Thirsty Bear Story

I haven’t told this story to very many people. It may prove to be a long story but hopefully worth the read. This is a true story and every word is true, though some will be left out because of blogger terms and conditions.

While still living in LA my wife and I decided to take a trip to San Francisco. For me it is always Mecca as a Deadhead and they also have great breweries. We had planned to visit every brewery and see as much of the city as we could. We walked everywhere and after a long day of brewery hopping we stopped into a brewery called, The Thirsty Bear.

We went to the bar and ordered two IPA’s (our beer of choice) and sat looking over the menu. There were some bearing down pains coming into my guts. Yep, I had to go. My wife beat me to the punch by announcing she would be using the restroom. Dang. I had to wait my turn. After what seemed like hours, she returned. “Where the hell is the bathroom in this place?” I said. She told me that the only restroom was upstairs and that there was a private party going on and I couldn’t go. I told her this was a time when I unfortunately had no choice.

Now San Francisco is known for many things and it is usually synonymous with a large homosexual population. I have no problems with homosexuality. I know love is a powerful thing and should be recognized by all people of all races and preference. I know the topic of gay marriage usually ends up: “what’s next? A man marries a sheep?” Ignorance is baaaaa’d.

I bring this up because the private party upstairs was a bus full of gay guys having a luau. I didn't care, I couldn’t wait another minute, I was not in control of the situation. My bowels dictated to me that I had very little time, so I headed upstairs. I was sweating and a little flushed so I didn’t exactly pay much attention. It may have been DeBarge on the stereo, there were lots of Hawaiian shirts, pretty drinks and a limbo bar. It was very crowded. I quickly snuck through to the bathroom and as I opened the door my heart sank. One stall, right when you open the door. Had it not been covered with a door, everyone could have seen me. I had no choice. I quickly went in, shut the door and relaxed. Momentarily.

I have always had a thing about public pooping, I mean in a public bathroom. I usually lift my feet when someone else comes in, so they don’t see me. I know, I know, I am in therapy for it. This time was no different, okay it was, but initially it wasn’t. The door opens and I quickly lift my legs, like I am being hunted in an action movie, only this isn’t a movie and the action has nothing to do with me. I can’t see anything, but I know he isn’t waiting for the stall, that is a risk you take with the leg lift. I hear him using the urinal and know it won’t be long until he leaves and I can too. Just then, the door opens again. Whew, not waiting for the stall either. He must be using the second urinal…he is! So now it should just be a moment longer and I can finish up. Then I hear this…

“Oooh, you’re huge. “

Let that sit a while...



There were many more words spoken between the two, too graphic and not allowed by the rules of this blog. I will email the exact words to those who want to know what was said. God knows, they are permanently burned in my brain.

There was a fair amount of kissing, some noises I wasn’t able to decipher, and an invitation to go to a “Bear” meeting and be a part of a “Bear Hug” party at a fellows house near by. I couldn’t see anything I could only hear it. I might have blacked out for a little while, I was in there for nearly forty-five minutes. They finally left. I knew I had a limited amount of time and I don’t think I could sit through another “thirsty” Bear moment. I quickly prepared to leave. When I left the bathroom, it seemed like the music stopped and everyone turned to look at me. I had no idea who I have secretly witnessed, but it seemed as though everyone knew what I had heard. I moved through the crowd toward the staircase, I was smiled at and someone grabbed my ass, though I didn’t turn to see who.

I got to the bar and my wife looked at me and smiled. “You look like you saw a ghost.” I replied, “I didn’t see anything. I heard…EVERYTHING.” There has always been a consensus that I am one cell away from being gay myself. My wife warned me not to go up to the rest room because of this fact. She could hardly believe this story and yet, why would I make this up? I quickly took a big gulp of my IPA. About ten minutes passed and the whole party started coming down the stairs to head for their bus. I swear every one of those guys looked at me and winked. My wife said, “I wonder where they are headed to next?” I looked at her. “I know exactly where they are going. A group Bear Hug.” She laughed and asked me if they had invited me? “No, not officially.” Somehow though, I felt as though they had.

That’s the PG version.
Happy Hump Day.

First Blog from a Second Thought.

So we eat a lot of stuff we probably shouldn't. Now some of it is coming back to kick our asses. Birds gave us bird flu. Pigs: swine flu. Cows: anthrax. Spinach and tomatoes: recent issues and the list goes on. I hope the names for these things get a bit more creative, next up is-Tofu Flu.

It got me thinking about some other stuff happening lately. Six months ago if you missed your car payment, they would enthusiastically take that shit away from you. They might even make fun of you. Now, they all have the same "guarantee" that they care and would never, ever do that. They just robbed the people blind. What a bunch of ...

What if no one, I mean, NO ONE paid their taxes? What would they do? What if everyone told the credit card companies to EAT IT? What could they do? We need to find our motivation as a country and STOP IT. If someone broke into your house and took your big ass TV and Cable box and told you that YOU bought it for THEM by working really hard you would put your foot so far up their ass their breath would be smellin' and most likely gellin'.

I got a phone call. I answer and am are immediately put on hold for the next available douche bag. I was so furious, who calls someone and puts them on hold when they answer? I knew what it was about, Citi bank was calling for some money. I told them to get it from the CEO, and if he refused, I was pretty sure I was getting a bailout from the government. It would be much cheaper than the millions they gave to the morons, and I wouldn't spend it on hookers and blow, okay, maybe hookers, but still.

Isn't it WE the people? If WE let them bend us over, go about it without lube, WE can't really bitch too much, can we. But alas, all of us will.