The New KevMobile

April 28, 2009

So the new wheels are sweet. An updated version of what I was driving.

New KevMobile

New KevMobile

So, I’m enjoying the new car smell. And the best part, is that I feel totally bad when I start the car, because my new key/clicker is combined, and flips out like a switch blade. So it feels like I’m jacking my own car every time I get behind the wheel.

Own It

April 26, 2009

I hate this feeling. I went to lease a new car, and found out my credit score went down, thanks to a stupid fiasco with my student loan. As much as I want to play it off like it wasn’t my fault, I was busy and got lazy and let the thing lapse for a while. Now my new car lease costs $85 more than the last one. And it’s demoralizing.

The main reason I’m ticked at myself isn’t the money. I can make that work. It’s more that I think I felt “embarrassment.” Like, an irrational need to explain what happened.

I had told those people that I wanted a car from them, and I had what I was willing to pay, and I wasn’t going to accept something on their terms and that I was doing them a favor by giving them my business again. I said I respected them because they treated me like a human being and I walked out of multiple car places because they were a-hole sales people, and that’s not how I operated. I got them down $30 a month from their initial terms.

And then their finance guy drops the credit score on me. And it was slightly embarrassing. I think.

I feel embarrassed about something so infrequently that I’m not exactly sure when I am feeling it, or even if I have at all (or even how to spell it, thanks spell-check!). I’ve always felt like I was above embarrassment. To me, I think embarrassment is kind of weakness. As I understand it, when you do something “embarrassing,” you basically feel shame or want to hide from it.  That’s not me at all.

I hate this feeling, mostly because it’s frustration at myself for being stupid (like when you lock yourself out of your house, for example).

I believe than when you screw up, you own it. When I do something stupid, I say “yeah, I did something stupid… because I felt like it at the time.” My general response to moments I should be “embarrassed” about is “F-it, and F-you, I’m not going to be embarrassed about it.”

This one is really tough, because it’s actually affecting me. Most things, like, saying something stupid when I’ve been drinking, for example, I just shrug and say “yeah, so what?” but the “so what?” to this one is “Enjoy your higher car payments.” And I have no one to blame but me.

Its tougher to own, because I’m driving the exact same car as before, but paying way more for it. And I don’t know if I’m going to think about it every single time I get into the stupid thing.

So yeah, I screwed up. And this is my price to pay. Screw it. I can afford it. I’m now going to be cognicent of my credit score, and do my best to absolutely dominate my finances in the next 36 months. What else can I do besides that, and crank my stereo in my sweet new car?

So Much Drama in the LBC…

April 23, 2009

When your friend is having relationship drama, it’s incredibly easy to see, identify and offer advice.

But the fundamental truth is that even when that person hears you, agrees with you, and plans to follow your advice… they completely change their tune when they’re alone with the person they have drama with.

That’s because for you, the signs are obvious. There’s clearly something wrong. To them, a change that resulted in the current dramatic conditions were so gradual, the current conditions merely became normal.

And people fear change. It’s easier to deal with the same stuff you’ve been dealing with than instigate change. What seems like chaos and drama to you is actually a comfort zone for them. Even though it’s blatantly obvious to those around you that you shouldn’t be comfortable in that situation.

So they deal with it. It’s amazing I never reached this conclusion before. But the big question is, the next time I have drama, am I going to remember this?

That Got Deep in a Hurry

April 22, 2009

There are nights when insane fun happens and there are nights when friends hang out and funny things are said. The latter happened last night (when I meant to hang out for an hour and a have and then go home, watch the Mets game and pack for an upcoming move).

And then there are nights with deep meaningful conversations. As fun as the funny things are to recap, it was a much better experience Wednesday because of the deep meaningful conversation.

When I was in Dayton, it was a town where not much was going on. But what made it memorable for me, was that I had deep friendships with the people I hung out with.

Tonight was really my first experience in New Orleans with the same type of thing. (Actually, it makes sense. It took about the same length of time from my arrival before my friendships in Dayton cemented themselves and we had those kinds of nights).

In a place where there an infinite amount of optipns for drunken shenanigans, it was way more enjoyable to have the kind of conversation I once had on the trunk of my car in a bowling alley parking lot in Dayton, Ohio. The type where people’s problems are discussed and (while usually not coming to fruition), eventually solved.

And we did discussed and solved. Not sure if any of it helped: people can always see other people’s problems better than their own; and the last two people out chatting where the two with the least amount of drama in their lives (at least on this night).

But in the end, what matters is not the jokes, the laughs, the drinks or the problems. It’s that you have people you can bring your problems to.

So who needs a party? In the words of Martin Blank, “why don’t you tell me your problems, and then I’ll tell you mine. And we’ll solve them. Tonight.”

Ah, Customer Service

April 20, 2009

Me: Hi, my DVR records things with pixelated stutters. Why is that? Why can’t you provide me with a service that works?

CSR: Well, it only does that when there’s a lot of sudden pixel changes. That will happen sometimes. Are you trying to watch a program with fast movement?

Me: I’m trying to watch a freaking race. It’s all fast movement.

Funeral Phanatics

April 17, 2009

Phillies broadcaster Harry Kalas died this week. And while you’re probably expecting some joke because I hate the Phillies, I am way classier than that. Here’s my question though. When a guy associated with a team for 30 years passes, everyone from the organization is going to go to the memorial service, right?

Well what about the mascot, the Philly Phanatic? I think he should go.

Philly Phanatic

Philly Phanatic

#1 – He’s one of the symbols of the franchise. His paying respects is a symbolic gesture.

#2 – Unlike a lot of mascots, the Philly Phanatic’s expression isn’t a broad smile, which would be slightly inappropriate for a funeral.

However, not mine. I’d love to have a mascot, or several, at my funeral. That’s be awesome. I’ m sure there would be children at my funeral. And I don’t want them sad. So the mascots could cheer them up.

The mascot attendance list for my funeral would include (but not be limited to):

Mr. Met (only time black outfit is appropriate!)

Mr. Met (only time black outfit is appropriate!)

Iceburgh (Pittsburgh Penguins)

Iceburgh (Pittsburgh Penguins)

Big Red (Western Kentucky)

Big Red (Western Kentucky)

Big Red (Western Kentucky)

The Saint Josephs Hawk...

The Saint Joseph's Hawk...

The Hawk would be awesome because he’d have to flap his arms the whole time. High comedy.

The New Jersey Devil

The New Jersey Devil

New Jersey Devil (New Jersey Devils)

Now that would be high comedy. Also, can someone get this guy a name? His name is New Jersey Devil.

I’m sure there’s more awesome mascots who could come to my funeral. Since I hate the Phillies, maybe the Phanatic could dance on my grave.

April 15, 2009

One of my friends recently confessed to me that she had signed up for I pass no judgement. But it got me thinking… I wonder what it would say about my compatibility with random people I know?

Like, out of my friends, which ones would I be most compatible with? I don’t have any friends that I want to date, but maybe seeing the results would make me re-think that. Or more likely point out how really superficial I am.

Ok, maybe this is not a good idea. But I’m definitely curious. Or it could show me who’d make a good roommate.

Hmmm, what would I need for? I have a website. I could just put up an application to date me on it.

Stupidest Thing I Have Ever Read.

April 14, 2009

Found on the internet:

So a friend of mine is taking on an experiment. He’s a small time [drug] dealer and wanted to get a job so his taxes look legit. So he got a job at McDonald’s. 100% of every paycheck (so far he’s had two totaling  $405) is going into lotto tickets. Right now he’s trying to see what works best – he’s done everything from scratch offs to mega millions. He won $300 on a $2 scratch off yesterday. He says his total is about $50 in the green. This really doesn’t sound like an awful idea.

This is by far the stupidest thing I have ever read. The sheer ridiculousness of this is overwhelming.

#1 – You have a job to make money. Whether your job is legitimate or not, your goal is to make money. So blowing your loot on lottery tickets is stupid and contrary to the reason you have a job.

#2 – The fact that you’d do something illegal for money shows how far you’re willing to go to make money, which doubles the stupidity of pissing said money away.

#3 – Isn’t the whole point of dealing drugs to avoid working a crappy job at McDonalds? Now you’re doing both? You’re devoting twice as much time into making the same amount of money. Horrible waste of time.

#4 – If you’re going to do a hairbrained scheme, pick something with a higher rate of return. Gamble on sports, or learn to count cards.

#5 – Your stupid measures STILL would result in tax evasion charges, because your income has increased and you took measures solely to hide that fact.

#6 – If you’re willing to engage in illegal activity for money (sell drugs), then why would you care about simple tax evasion, which bears a much softer penalty in the event that you’re caught?

Drink the Kool-Aid

April 13, 2009

One of the books The Dream let me borrow was Raven, which is the definitive volume on Jim Jones, the People’s Temple and the Jonestown massacre. What’s there to say besides “that’s messed up?”

Well, one thing stuck out in my mind. Before they moved from California to Jonestown, Guyana, someone asked posed a question to a supporter of Jones who was not a Temple member. In essence, the man replied with a comment that meant: “You should get on board with what he’s doing.” His response was “If Jones is drinking a different brand of whiskey than you drink, you should switch to whatever whiskey he’s drinking.”

I found that kind of an odd metaphor, and had to re-read it to figure out what it meant. I thought “that’s a really round-about way to say ‘Drink the Kool-Aid.'” And then it occurred to me that the phrase “Drink the Kool-Aid” wasn’t invented yet. That phrase obviously came about as a result of the misled followers of the People’s Temple, ordered to drink the Flavor Aid (yeah, Flavor Aid, not Kool Aid) in the mass murder (yeah, mass murder, not suicide) in Jonestown in 1978. Naturally, I had a dark chuckle at the realization.

Brief aside:  A guy named Jim Jones has the most hilarious twitter account ever. Not just because his name is “DrinkTheKoolAid” but because the language Twitter uses to keep track of your feeds. Jim Jones has “45 Followers.” Hopefully things work out better for him than the last set.

And I had an even darker chuckle as I was reading the climax of the  aforementioned book. The climax being the deaths of over 900 people at the hands of cyanide-laced grape Flavor Aid, while sitting on my couch drinking from a cup of grape Gatorade (ok, technically ‘Riptide Rush,’ but it was purple).

What’d Brian Do Now?

April 11, 2009

The Dream wonders how I get through books so fast. Obviously, he doesn’t have my neighbors. I know way too much about them, without ever meeting them (although, I don’t know her name, just Brian’s, because she yells at him and he speaks softly. I like Brian). Without fail, at least twice a week they fight late at night. How they know that I’ve just turned out the light and want to go to sleep, and why that triggers their disputes, I have no idea. But that’s how one chapter becomes half a book. And how a two weeks of reading becomes three nights of reading.

Maybe I should read counselling books. Out loud.