12.14.2002

 

It occurred to me today that I don't know any other bloggers.

Now and again I read about how Tony and Moxie went to a Halloween party together, or how Meesh invited him poolside to watch game 7 of the World Series, or how Dawn and Eric Olsen hung out with Welch and Layne at some swank Hollywood party, or something along those lines. Meanwhile, I've had IM conversations or traded emails with other bloggers, but I've never met anyone whose blog serves as daily entertainment fodder.

Honestly, this is not a big deal to any extent whatsoever, because my unresearched feeling is that most bloggers who read each other enjoy a respectful relationship from an electronic distance. On the other hand, it seems to me likely that people who keep blogs probably have met at least someone else who had a blog as well, even if they don't read the blogs of these people they've met.

But since starting mine little less than half a year ago, I've never once even enocuntered someone who has a blog, and given the fact that these suckers keep tending to pop up among the intelligentsia among our civilization and the ubiquity of bloggers among college campuses, it would stand to reason that, seeing as I consider myself to be a respectably intelligent person and I've spent a decent amount of time living around a college campus in the last couple of years, I should have met someone out there doing more or less the same thing I do every day.

Can it really be possible that all of you are hanging out in Southern California, or does it just seem that way?

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12.13.2002

 

What to do when you have no ability to blog something thoughtful: take a purity test and tell everyone your score.

I'm 61.6% pure, which means I'm just a little more stanky than your average test taker. Good times.

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Wow. I just heard my neighbor and his girlfriend enjoying a shower together. And I do mean enjoying.

What's worse, hearing people you know having sex or hearing people you don't know having sex?

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Two exams down, two to go.

I've had so many things I've wanted to write about the last few days, but after writing for three and a half hours straight, I just don't have it in me at the moment. I'll try and do better soon.

And hey, at least this wasn't super sappy. Oh, and how come I never make it into anyone's blog stories about other bloggers?

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12.12.2002

 

And with that, I think I've just used up my entire sappy quota for the remainder of the year. Nothing but sarcasm and criticism in the next few days, I promise. Maybe even a conversation with the john.

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Today is something of a watershed crucial day for me. My beautiful girlfriend Amanda and I began what has developed into a really enjoyable relationship two and a half months ago.

If I weren't me, I would probably scoff at the idea of making a big deal at two and a half little months as well. But what I have come to call my 2.5 month problem, a phenomenon well known to many of my friends, urges me to feel rather excited today, so I think I will.

My longest relationship ever to date was 2.5 months, and I've done it three different times. In two of those instances, geography really served as the major reason for those relationships coming to an end. The other relationship came to an end because I simply grew bored with it. But I've grown bored with relationships in three weeks before as well, and I've gotten bored with others that made it just a little longer than that. One of the greatest guys I'll ever hope to know (who managed to make me out loud with a comment he left this afternoon) has even taken to diagnosing it as a pathology and extending it to a theory stating that I only become interested in girls who I feel I cannot have, consequently overlooking a number of terrific girls who could have probably made me happy, and the reason that I grow bored with relationships is that I lose the allure of the pursuit after a certain amount of time (say, oh maybe two and half months) because I start to realize that some girls really do like me, even the ones I would think would never have an interest. I try and laugh at it every time he launches into the theory, but I have to admit that he has based it on a lot of observation and insight. And as much as I hate to admit it, over the last year or two, I've started to believe him.

Today marks two and a half months with Amanda. Guess I had better make a choice then.

Full speed ahead, I say.

* * * *
DISCLAIMER: I'm about to get really sappy. Consider yourself warned.
* * * *

That was not the hardest decision I've ever made.

I've dated, albeit briefly, some of the most amazing girls, and with maybe one or two exceptions, each of them still has some role in my life, sometimes a very important role. My previous girlfriend was, before we started dating and has so remained, one of the closest friends I've ever had. While my relationships have not lasted long, the girls I've come to know in those short times have set a very high standard for any girl foolish enough to want to try her luck with me.

This thing I have with Amanda blows everything up to this point out of the water. And when I say that, I don't mean that she makes me realize that everything previous was not as good as I thought it was. Not even close. When I say that, I simply mean that Amanda makes me feel and believe things I have openly questioned as even being a possibility for me.

I'm crazy about her. Mad. I think about her constantly and worry far too much about her. Notice the smallest little things about her and pick up on things I don't think she has any clue I understand. And yet she can seem so mysterious to me as well. I want to know about her past, about what she has done and what she has always wanted to do but hasn't quite reached. I want to know what her very first job was and what her favorite job she's ever had was. I want to know the things that make her her.

At times I'm astounded by how beautiful she is. Bluest eyes I've ever seen. Deep in on the iris, just outside the pupil, sit these minute yellow splotches that make the blue all the more intense and interesting. Good skin, good hair, cute little mouth and a laugh so infectious that everyone around her cannot help themselves but to laugh out loud with her. The first day I saw her, I thought to myself that I must find some way to meet her, then I rebuked myself for thinking a girl like that would ever want anything to do with me. I think when I first asked her out I surprised her so much that she didn't know what to say, so she nodded her head in assent before she could think of a legitimate excuse to say no. Probably one of the luckiest nights of my life. I think I surprised her the first time we went out together, though in a good way. Maybe another in the luckiest nights collection.

Gorgeous on the inside as well. Surprises people with how smart she is, even as she tries to downplay her own intelligence. One of these days, I think she's going to start surprising herself with how smart she is too. Kind and considerate, but not so much so that everyone thinks she's an annoying Pollyanna princess. Supportive but not smothering. Mirthful and always laughing, every time I see her. And astute enough to realize that dorky guys like me, the ones who will never sit on a homecoming court or throw a football sixty yards or have their names written in lights or have groupies following them around, nonetheless have a lot of great things to offer and will glorify them in a blog that hundreds of people read every week.

I still have occasional moments of incredulity that she likes me so much. I know I'm a nice guy and I have a great future and a lot to offer, but I also know that anywhere I go, I will find other nice guys just like me who have lots of the same things I do, but maybe also have a few more inches on me (height wise, of course) or more athletic ability than me or a brighter future or whatever. It's not absence of confidence, it's logical reality. But instead I get to be the guy she thinks about at night and kisses on the cheek and curls up in a warm bed with her on cold winter nights. The thought makes me giddy. Here I am, in the middle of a cornfield, hanging out with a lot of people with whom I really don't fit in all that much, far away from my family and most of my friends, working my ass off every day and having very little to show for it most of the time, here I am with a life that could make me so depressed at times, and yet I'm enjoying the hell out of myself right now. I've probably spent over 100 hours in the library over the last two weeks, I have three very difficulty exams staring me in the face, and I'm ecstatic. My life seems great because it's challenging, exciting, fresh and full of potential. My life is great because Amanda is a big part of it.

I hope I have impacted her and continue to impact her in ways similar to what she's doing with me. I want to make her smile and laugh and giggle and roll around on the floor in front of a raging fire until she's exhausted from the enormity of it all. I want to take her to places she's always wanted to go and make her feel things she's always wanted to feel. I want her to stare at me when I'm not looking and think to herself that I am the most attractive guy she's ever known, even if she's staring at my hands. I want her to think that she's lucky that she gets to curl up with me in a warm bed sometimes and feel the warm massages of my exhalations as I lightly kiss her on the back of the neck. I want to be everything for her that she is for me.

I want to be the kisser she's ever had. Hey, I've got an ego just like anyone else.

So yeah, two and a half months. Not that impressive, I know. Some intramural seasons last longer than that. Two and a half months. Big freaking deal.

But the last two and a half months HAVE been a big freaking deal for me. And I'm excited to make tomorrow two and a half months and one day, and then two days, three days, and many more days after that.

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Sometimes I like to check my referral logs just to get an idea of how you are all getting here. I found my favorite referral ever today:

http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&q=huey+lewis+penis+size

I'm not sure I even have a clue of what to do with this one. But hey, I guess I could argue that there's something to be said for being the fifth link to come up when you go to Google and type in "Huey Lewis penis size"

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12.11.2002

 

I am guessing that, as a big hockey fan like me, Eric McErlain is glad to see the return of Jason Allison and Adam Deadmarsh to the Los Angeles Kings' lineup. When the two of the join my Ziggy Palffy up front, they form what is probably the most dangerous line in hockey. Please note that given my 14-year allegiance to the LA Kings, this post contains no bias whatsoever.

The three forwards reunited three games ago after Allison returned a month early from a brutal knee injury that, given the fact that Allison is clearly the powerful cog that makes the Kings' offense extremely effective, had LA fans worrying if their team's playoff chances had been dashed a month into the regular season. The extremely tough and yet often fragile Deadmarsh had been out with a wrist injury and then a concussion. Palffy had missed a few games early in the year with back problems, but his scoring touch is starting to show again.

The Kings have shut out their opponents on two consecutive nights, with the big line generating 5 of the 6 goals scored in those two games. Tonight, on the road against the Dallas Stars, the Kings gave Dallas their first regulation loss of the season and became the first team this year to deny the Stars of any points from a home game. The Allison line simply controlled the game while they were on the ice, scoring three pretty goals, each of which was generated by fluid passing and solid skating to the holes on the ice.

As a Kings fan, I'm clearly glad to see my line back together. The three of them can the hockey team, and suddenly their chances at a successful season seem more brighter than just a few games ago (I must admit that even in Allison's absence, as well as that of a few other key players, the Kings have done an admirable job of treading water and staying a game or two above .500). They have their entire roster back from injury. As a fan of the game of hockey, it's pleasing to see three guys play together who can take over again and control the flow down low and through the neutral zone. Fans remember these special combinations, the Gretzky-Kurri-Anderson, Lemieux-Stevens-Francis and Lindros-Renberg-LeClair lines that, while they stay together and hot, put up up numbers like nobody's business.

For the rest of you who never expected me to post something so unlike everything else I write here, my apologies. I'm excited about my favorite team in the world playing my favorite game in the world well.

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Kudos to Samizdata for posting the most satirically humorous thing I've read today.

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I'm starting to notice that Newsweek's cover story last week and some of the responses it has provoked on various blogs is turning into a small phenomenon. I actually found a really great comment that makes me want to clarify two things about my two responses to the Newsweek article.

Over at Ward Entertainment, a guy named Josh posted this comment to the whole thing:
Too bad you guys feel that way. I'm a virgin, proud of it, and plan to stay that way until I get married. I'm going to be STD-free, have no regrets, no unwanted kids, and my bride will know she's the only girl I'll ever have, and that's a beautiful thing.

Yeah it sucks that there's a lot of hippocrits [sic] out there, but I'm not one of them.

That's fabulous Josh. Honestly, I'm completely sincere when I say that. You've made a choice based on what you think is best for you, and the fact that it probably will greatly simplify your life is wonderful. But I really don't think it's your place, my place or anyone else's place to criticize the decision someone else makes. Everyone has to decide what's right for them.

Other responses I've seen to the various bloggers' discussing the Newsweek story suggest to me that perhaps some of you might have misunderstood my criticisms, in that they seem to think by criticizing the article I have criticized the subjects of the article, namely the kids who have chosen abstinence. I'll not speak for anyone else, because it might be that other bloggers feel differently, but if any of you feel that way, read my posts again. At no time do I ever criticize the kids who have chosen abstinence. I certainly do take Newsweek to task for writing such a poor and clearly not-well thought out article and making it the centerpiece of their weekly edition. As to the kids, I feel the same way about them as I do about Josh. Teens like Amanda Wing and Chris Nicoletti deserve my congratulations for taking such a confident stand on a difficult issue and for confidently making a difficult decision. Yes, I did criticize their parents for taking such a negative rule-oriented approach to their childrens' burgeoning sexuality. And whether Amanda and Chris, or any of the other kids elected to choose abstinence because of their parents' rules or not, I still congratulate them and have nothing but praise for them. As growing adults, I assume them to be capable of making whatever decision they think is best for them based on all the information available to them. They seem mature and intelligent enough to decide whether or not their parents' rules are good for them, just as the many teens I have known whose parents have imposed similar no sex rules have chosen for themselves to pursue their sexual curiosity.

I'm criticizing the article and the parents who are ignorant enough to think that their rules and or-else parenting had anything to do with their intelligent teen's decision to abstain from or engage in sex. I have nothing but praise for teens who have decided to abstain for simplifying their lives at the expense of their curiosity, and I generally have respect for teens who have decided to explore their curisoity and accept the potential complications, and I hope they do so responsibly for their sake and that of their partner(s).

Is that clear enough?

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I get jealous very easy sometimes. Dan the Goose is jealous of my email address. I'm jealous of his Internet woman.

Of course, I'm not the kind of guy who would try and steal another man's girl, she he has nothing to fear. Especially since no one knows what I look like and, if they did, he'd be really confident about not having anything to fear. But I thought I would joke around with my girl Sarah, so I wrote her yesterday asking why she loved Dan but not me. After all, I reasoned, I have the word "goose" in my email address too, I could also teach her to play guitar, and perhaps most importantly, I am of legal drinking age.

Beautiful Sarah seemed none too impressed by my jesting romantic overtures. Being the nice girl she is, she started with the "I do like you, but..." technique by telling me that she does love me, but she doesn't want to marry me. She claims that she does not want to marry me because I'm not an engineer, my name is Chris and there happens to be a beautiful girl named Amanda in Illinois.

She's certainly right on the engineer argument: I think I am probably the absolute antithesis of an engineer. However, my prowess with duct tape is well documented. My name is also Chris. She's got me there. I'll admit my name is pretty much as run of the mill as you can get, unless you're a John Smith or Michael Jones or something like that, but I don't think I'm run of the mill. Whoever is out there giving guys named Chris a bad name is not my friend. And yes, I do know of a certain girl named Amanda in Illinois. My sources tell me she's pretty damn cool, extremely beautiful and lots of fun. I'll have to look into this girl a little bit more.

So maybe she's right. I've got nothing on Dan the Goose. But I promise not to cry myself to sleep tonight, because even with all that, Sarah still hearts the Hose Monster.

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12.10.2002

 

Ugh. My head hurts. I may have to take a small sabatical from blogging today.

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12.09.2002

 

RRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!

Screw you, two weeks of finals.

Fear my wrath!

I'm not afraid of you.

Sure you are. Everyone is afraid of two weeks of law school finals.

I'm not afraid of your tests. In fact, bring them. Let me tear them to shit.

You're just saying that. I know you're in a bad mood.

You could say that again.

Ha! You fear my wrath!

I'll tell you what. Call off your freakin' annoying little minions and I'll show you something to fear.

What do you have to show me?

How much I can rip your sorry exams to shreds if you will just let me focus on studying and forget about the bullshit.

Aww, poor baby. But what bullshit could I be throwing at you?

Let's see. On Friday I really appreciated how my computer not only crashed in the middle of class, but then refused to restart or even load the operating system. I could have dealt without enduring five hours that day wondering if had lost 220 pages and a whole week's worth of work. Work I did over Thanksgiving. Over a holiday I spent alone. I could have dealt without that.

Yeah, but your IT department at school finally recovered your files and you didn't lose anything.

Nope. Didn't lose anything. Not five hours I could have been doing work or thinking about school and focusing on finals and not worrying about bullshit.

One thing. No big deal.

I could have dealt without learning my floppy drive didn't work when I tried to install the software I need to take my exams. I could have dealt with not having to spend $60 that I don't really have so that I can take my exams on my computer.

Cheese with that whine?

Not just yet asshole. Of course, if I had known that when I tried to install the software this afternoon that it wouldn't let me, and that our IT department would respond to my problem by saying, "Hmm, that's a tough one. I've never seen that before," then you know, maybe I would not have felt the urgency to spend money I don't have.

So write your exams out by hand.

Great idea. Give me three hours to take a test with my crap ass handwriting and frequent cramps I get after writing for an extended period of time. Why are you suddenly flinging all this bullshit at me?

Because I can.

I think I've taken my quota. Start with someone else.

Whatever. Good luck tomorrow.

Kiss my ass.

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12.08.2002

 

Blatantly stealing from Tony...

Caption this, please

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My sophomore year of college, my roommate was bored one night and decided to throw my name into a search engine.

That was the night powerfist.com first came to my knowledge.

Powerfist is run by gay porn star Chris Ward and is part of the fisting web ring. Many years ago, when Adam and I first discovered the site, we had to click on the crotch in a picture of Mr. Ward (who, for fans of The Shawshank Redemption, happened to look eerily similar to the character Boggs. And sadly, this is the first I've noticed the appropriateness of that connection) to enter the site. The next five minutes were among the most disturbing of my life. You might say I was not prepared to see some of those images. You could definitely say I was not prepared to see the name "Chris Ward" repeated over and over again in the captions to those images. Not good times.

Anyway, Adam was apparently bored today and decided to find out what I've been doing these days. I guess I have been quite busy.

Looks like I was running for state representative in Michigan last month on the Republican ticket. Very curious. No word on whether I won or not, but my site seems to be lacking any celebratory message, so I'm guessing things didn't go so well for me. Such is life.

Apparently I've been working to establish a branding consultancy as well. I have no idea why I chose a hippopotamus as the branding tool for my site. Hmm.

On Sundays in the fall I play defensive end for the St. Louis Rams. (For those of you who have asked me why I have never put a picture of myself up before, here's your big chance to see how sexy I am.)

Congratulations go out to me for earning a Disney Teacheriffic Award in 1999. I also should applaud my weekly radio show "Chapel Time" in central Florida. I don't remember studying for my Doctorate of Ministry, but hey, sometimes I forget things.

Looks like I'm also dead, but before dying I published a bunch of papers. My biography was very informative. I had forgotten a lot of that stuff.

According to Adam, I also do beadwork, make fine pine furniture and hold several doctorates in everything from computer science to theology. I'm not one to brag, but yeah, I'm pretty impressed with myself right now.

Thanks for the laugh Adam.

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