Cold Stone Sep 27, 2005
I don't like Cold Stone Creamery.  I think they contribute to the growing problem of obesity in America.  But the bigger problem is that their ice cream is really good.  And it's like they give no thought to the idea of the "food pyramid" or some other sort of healthy eating guide.  They just dish out fatty, sweet ice cream.  Let's say you get a small (Like It) bowl of Cheesecake Ice Cream:  22g of Total Fat, 14g of Saturated Fat, and 44g of Carbohydrates, among other lovely nutrients.  Or how about Cake Batter:  23/14/48.  Let's say you're simple and just get Vanilla Bean:  23/15/39.  Ouch.  That's some pretty bad stuff.  Not to mention the fact that you feel the need to finish it despite feeling like you could vomit/explode.  I boycott this place.  People say, "Hey let's go get some Cold Stone!"  And I say, "Heck no, brother.  I'm sick of that place."  And they usually say, "Yeah, actually I am too.  I don't know why I keep going back."  Well I know:  Guar Gum.  It's an ingredient in Sweet Cream Ice Cream, the primary ingredient in all Cold Stone's flavors.  Actually I have no idea if this stuff is harmful in any.  But I'm sticking with my theory. #food
God's handwriting (1) Sep 27, 2005
I heard an interesting thing recently:  Would you recognize your wife's/friend's handwriting if you saw it?  Probably yes.  Would you recognize Gandhi's handwriting?  Probably not.  The idea is that you recognize things from people you know, people you're familiar with.  It's the same way with God.  We can recognize stuff about God by being friends with him, spending time with him, getting to know him.  In other words, we'll see stuff as being God's work and as coming from God if we're close to him.  I wonder how many things happen that we don't recognize as coming from God.  We say, "Wow, what a coincidence."  Why is it just a coincidence and not an act of God, part of God's will?  And when bad things happen, we're always quick to say, "How could God let this happen?"  But what about the things he doesn't let happen [1]?  Or what about the good that comes out of the bad (Romans 8:28)?  Or what about little things that happen every day, like getting to work safely and sleeping in a bed at night?

[1] Mercy can be defined as "not getting what we deserve".  Grace can be defined as "getting what we don't deserve". #religion
Spin Sep 26, 2005
I can't do spinning rides.  That's the deal.  I'm not sure how I became like this.  I used to like the Gravitron (the ride that spins and makes you stick to the wall) and that other spinning ride that starts out horizontal and slowly lifts up to become vertical.  I remember going on the Gravitron quite a few times one summer, and I haven't liked it since then.  But it wasn't because something bad happened.  I just didn't want to go on it anymore. 

There was one time when I was at my neighbor Mike's house and I was swinging and spinning on a tire swing.  After a while, I started to feel sick, so I said I was gonna go home.  But he got mad and said, "You keep going home because you say you feel sick.  What's with that?"  As I was walking away from the tire swing, I threw up cherry Kool-Aid and said, "See!"  Then I went home.  I showed him. 

I think it's genetic or something about being a male.  Most guys can't go on spinning rides for the same reason.  I think it's because our brains work slower, so when we spin, there's too much sensory input and we can't process it fast enough, so it makes us uncontrollably dizzy, which makes us throw up.  Yeah, that's it. #psychology
That guy Sep 23, 2005
I just heard a traffic report on the radio that said there's a 20-mile backup on the beautiful Garden State Parkway because of a stalled vehicle.  IN THE CENTER LANE.  I would hate to be that guy because I could just picture a bum-rush of people getting out of their cars to beat him unconscious.  And heck, if I was there, I'd be one of those people.  I'd feel bad if it was a woman (which, let's face it, it probably is) because what would that bum-rush of people do?  Yell?  They can't beat her up; that's not polite.  But if it's a guy, God help him. 

The real issue at stake is the fact that there's a guy dumb enough to stall in the middle lane of a 3- or 4-lane highway.  How is that even possible?  Maybe it was uphill and he lost speed so quickly that he didn't have enough time to get over to the side.  Maybe they used the word "stall" to really mean "massive explosion and chemical fire".  But even if either of these excuses were valid, it still doesn't change the fact that cars have wheels which enable them to be pushed.  Push the car, idiot. #travel
Wheeled backpacks Sep 23, 2005
Kids these days.  All I see is a bunch of lazy nancies wheeling around their backpacks because they're too lazy to put them on their backs like real men and women.  Back when I was a kid, you put your backpack on your back.  Wheels were for luggage.  Rich luggage.  And you only used one strap.  That way, you would eventually become lopsided and crippled.  But these kids have no respect for their heritage.  They wheel around their backpacks all day long.  And it's not like they even have books.  I see 5- and 6-year-olds wheeling around bags.  There's nothing in there.  Maybe a piece of paper.  Maybe a drink box or fruit snacks.  Kids that age don't do work in school.  So why do they need a backpack?  Gang member initiation. #products
Cat lessons Sep 23, 2005
What my cat Dilbert taught me about life:
1.  Show people that you're happy to see them.
2.  Play wildly, and play often.
3.  Be affectionate with people you like.
4.  Help people clean up their messes.

Other lessons learned from Dilbert:
1.  When someone does something that hurts you, violently kick and bite them.
2.  Say hi to people out your windows.
3.  Always look for new things to sniff.
4.  Eat anything and everything you find on the floor.
5.  Try to kill toy mice by drowning them in your water dish.
6.  Sit in the bathtub and watch drops of water roll towards the drain.
7.  Eat bugs. #nature
Friday Sep 23, 2005
Fridays are awesome.  I know as soon as my alarm goes off that it's Friday.  Fridays are like "who cares, I'm graduating" but every week.  Everything's just better on Fridays. 

I like the idea of dress-down Fridays.  I always take advantage of this institution.  Even if I hardly dress up during the rest of the week, I dress up even less on Fridays.  So instead of tucking in my polo shirt, I'll leave it untucked.  Stick it to the man!

There's never any traffic on Fridays (except for the Parkway South).  For some reason, it seems like there's a large number of people who just don't work on Fridays.  I don't work on Fridays sometimes, but I don't think the lack of traffic is because of me or because of other people at my place of employment who also don't work on Fridays.  It's something much bigger.  People just take Fridays off.

Everyone at work knows it's Friday too.  They say, "Oh it can wait until next week" or "Let's take an extra long Friday lunch" or "You can leave 59 minutes early.  Not 1 hour.  59 minutes."

And my favorite part about Friday is when I drive up to the security checkpoint and the people that check my ID say, "Have a nice weekend."  It's 8am on Friday morning and they tell me to have a good weekend.  Good deal. #psychology
Work out Sep 22, 2005
I wish I had an urge to work out (the thing one does for cardiovascular exercise, not weight-lifting).  I get the urge every once in a while, but I feel like I've exhausted all my options.  I'm not really a fan of doing something for the sole purpose of a workout.  Like running or biking.  If there's a purpose in mind, these activities might be a little more appealing.  If I ran with a destination in mind and without the need to run back, it might be a little more fulfilling.  Or if I biked because that's the only way I could get from one place to another, I might enjoy it (but I'm sure I would quickly hate it after the first rainstorm or bitterly cold day).  I enjoyed scaling a small mountain a few weekends ago.  I had about 30 lbs on my back and I climbed up a rock-covered "mountain" (a loosely-used term because it wasn't a mountain in the Rockies sense of the word).  But there aren't too many mountains in close proximity to me; they require a good half-hour drive.  So altogether, it would take about 2 hours to get a workout.  I would play sports like basketball, but for whatever reason, basketball is entirely associated with a certain group of people.  I absolutely don't fit into that group of people, so I don't really like playing basketball in public.  [Isn't it weird that certain sports are associated with certain groups of people?  Basketball - thugs.  Frisbee - hippies.  Skiing - rich people.]  Everyone says that walking's healthy.  I don't know about that.  It's just too easy.  But it's all I have for now, so I guess I'm sticking with it. #health
Diapers Sep 22, 2005
I forgot to write about this when it happened:  I had my first diaper changing experience when I volunteered to help out at the nursery at church.  That doesn't sound like something I would normally say.  The reason is this:  the usual nursery and Sunday school people have off during the summer, so other people from the church volunteer to help out.  Wendy convinced me that the 0-1 age group would probably be the easiest because you don't have to teach them anything and they can't talk back to you.  Now that sounds like something I would say.  So we helped out at the nursery on two separate Sundays.  The first Sunday was an experience, but not bad.  I played with some kids and held some babies.  Trailblazing experience for me, but I could handle it.  So the second Sunday looked to be about the same deal.  There were a few kids and I held a baby.  But this baby had a flaw:  he smelled weird.  I asked Wendy with fear in my voice, "How do you know when you need to change a baby's diaper?"  She answered, "Either you can smell it or the diaper feels a little puffy, or you just put your finger in there to see if you feel moisture."  Ew!  Why would anyone ever do that?  So we came to the deductive conclusion that this baby had in fact soiled its drawers.  So I laid him on the baby-changing table with the deli paper, and Wendy guided me through the process step by step.  It turns out that babies wear quick-release pants so you don't have to try to fit the cuffs over their little stubs-for-feet.  As I took off the pants, I got a little scared and said, "Wendy, I don't think I'm ready for this."  I had hoped that the first diaper I changed would belong to my child, or at least some sort of relative.  But here I was, standing in front of some half-naked stranger-baby.  But Wendy had a crying girl on her hip, so she was unable to assist me in my endeavour.  So she coached me through it.  To make a long story short, the kid pooped, I changed the diaper, and that was about it.  But trying to get this kid's pants back on was quite a challenge.  It's like trying to put a puzzle back together.  I couldn't figure out which way was up and which side was the front.  After a while, I finally got the pants "on", a term I use loosely because the pants were sideways and probably backwards.  It's not like he knew the difference.  So then I brushed off my hands with a feeling of accomplishment and went about my day.  Oh wait.  This kid is covered in saliva that's exiting his mouth at an uncomfortably fast rate.  Wendy said, "He spit up."  And he was laying down, so it was all over the side of his head.  Gross!  So I got the kid off the table and tried to clean him up.  He was a mess.  But what was weird is that he had no clue what was happening.  He didn't know that a total stranger just flung smelly white powder all over his posterior.  He didn't know that he just threw up all over himself.  It was like nothing happened.  Same old, same old.  I found out later that throw-up is different than spit-up in that throw-up is colored.  I observed it fly out of this kid's mouth and over Wendy's shoulder as she was holding him. 

So that's my baby story.  Many people have told us that watching kids is the best form of birth control.  I agree.  I don't want kids yet. #entertainment
Scared Sep 22, 2005
Sometimes I'll be walking around my building at work and I'll round a corner or open a door and be so unfathomably frightened by a person I wasn't expecting to see that I'll be about a half-step away from death.  I can't believe how scared I get.  And then I walk away feeling like such an idiot for getting so scared. #psychology