The long and the short of it

   Those who see me on a regular basis know that I have the ability to grow a fairly grizzled beard.  It's not something that defines me, per say, but it is definitely part of my external imprint.  When you close your eyes and imagine Daris, the blurry oddball you see is axiomatically fuzzy.  The bearded life has treated me well for the last 15 years or so, however, now a days it seems more and more men are beginning to look a lot more like me...or vice versa.  The beard is an over-saturated look; relegating me to associated society of vegans, hipsters, and lazies.  What once was a proud accouterment to my daily attire and expression, has now migrated my association to the likes of men who wear glasses without prescription lenses, or people who vape too frequently, or the proponents of ye-ol' man-bun.  The most frustrating thing about the beard epidemic is that it's really the only part of my body that grows hair in appropriate amounts.  I started going bald around 20 and tapped the bench for a beard that inadvertently became my unanticipated follic symbol, if you will. It's been most places with me as an adult.  It's encompassed many of my meals.  Good times and bad, my beard has toiled with me through it all.  Alas, now we have a situation where every Tom, Dick, and Harry is embracing the previously proud lifestyle of beardom and trending the respectability from it's roots.

   I have cut my beard.  Not shaved, but drastically reduced, in size and stature, the thing I once loved and cherished.  Enjoy the fad fellow facial fozzies.  It treated me with dignity and respect, and I can only hope all you flannel-wearing, skinny jean loving, must-own-one-tiny-dog-and-one-giant-dog, corn cob pipe smoking, Edgar Allen Poe reading maniacs appreciate what you have.  Because it was once mine.  And it loved me.

It All Ads Up

       Hey there everyone, I wanted to quickly post about something that is becoming more and more prominent on the internet and will undoubtedly lead time my departure from certain media interactions.  With family and friends posting videos of their children, vacations, artistic expression, and quirky animals making strange faces, it seems like the magic of shared video has no where to go but up in terms of popularity and social aspect incorporation.  Cell phone technology explosively advances in both hardware and programming capabilities every 6-9 months, effectively giving anyone with a phone the ability to shoot professional, coherent, and clean video all day, every day.  This is an incredibly useful development for the aforementioned sharing of pets and family outings, etc; but what I’m not overly excited about is the frequency with which these videos are now being preliminarily screened with advertisements.  It is an unsettling fact that over 11,000 video advertisements are viewed by the public…every second.  That’s 29 BILLION a month.  If, in 2012, YouTube had 4 billion views a day (120B a month), which it did, and we are seeing only 29 billion ads a month from the entire internet, imagine how many ads we are going to be seeing when Facebook (1B video views a day today), and YouTube, and every other big name site out there with video streaming services begin utilizing advertisement marketing to ALL videos.  Get excited about all of that wonderful “Retina Screen” technology, the HD computer monitors, and the 4K OLED LCD “something-something bullshit” imaging processors right now, because in the next few years, all you’ll be looking at are 60 second ads followed by the 9 second clip from your sister of your nephew taking his first shit. 



If they show a video ad on this website before, during, or after this blog opens, I'm going to set my computer on fire.  Swear to God.

You think you have strange dreams...

I'm on a scooter racing down a cold city street, busses and cars abound, my tiny vehicle somehow navigating the paved streets with precision and riveting nimbleness; for some reason a small café is on fire...no time to stop.  I traverse a pack of bicyclists as the road turns to cobblestone; it's night time with the only light coming from overhead street lamps.  After a few blocks, my speed slows, the aggressive maneuvers discontinue, and I come to a stop in the middle of a square.  Wiping the sweat from my brow I know I am in pursuit of something or someone, but I have no idea in which direction to continue.  As I dismount the scooter my foot touches sand. 

The warmth from the sand isn't immediately apparent to my senses as I am still standing in what appears to be a combination of London and San Francisco on a cold night, but my body is telling me that I’m standing in sand with a warm breeze blowing slightly at my cheek.  I blink hard, closing my eyes on the final blink, 1…2…3…

I’m on a beach in the Caribbean.  It’s blinding sunshine and the heat is immense.  The cars that were once in the dark town square are now old and weathered, half buried in sand around me.  The configuration of the cars is identical to my previous location, but it looks as if there has been a shift in scenery, but only in certain broad conditions.  I walk to one of the rusting vehicles and lay my hand upon the roof; it’s still cold.  There’s an explosion behind me and quickly I spin to see smoke coming from a burning café.

The commotion which shakes the ground doesn’t seem to have the effect on anyone but myself.  Come to think of it, there’s no one around.  I become scared at the thought that I’m alone and there is danger present in the form of an anonymous explosion; but in my dream state I’m limited in my control of the body I inhabit.  I break into a sprint towards the smoke, someone might be in danger; there might be someone I can talk to about this place.  My mind says ‘stay’, as my body continues to run.  I have no limitation on stamina; at a full sprint for 200 yards I don’t become winded or strained.  I see the flames now, coming over the combination of tropical trees and city buildings.  As I turn the corner I see the white café, burning from the inside with flames emerging from the front windows like orange eye lashes of a harlequin in the wind.  As I approach, I see a woman sitting in front of the café at one of the wrought iron tables, nary a care in the world.  Her toes dig in and out of the sand as she sips her drink and writes something on a small piece of paper.  She has blonde hair and pouted lips.  She can’t be older than 20 years old.  Shorter than I, with a round face encompassing two large blue eyes, the bangs fall even across her brow, framing her expression as whimsical yet attentive to what she is writing.  She smiles slightly at her own wit or intelligence, never breaking eyes with the page to view the myriad of flames bellowing only feet behind her.  Her yellow and blue dress is scorched at the bottom ruffle as if the heat is beginning to singe her clothing but not affecting her temperament.   I catch her eye and she looks up from her writing; we make contact.  As I open my mouth to speak, I can’t find the words to tell her anything; I’m blank.  The obvious threat to her safety is apparent to me but I cannot seem to vocalize my concerns as she simply stares.  The twenty five feet between us becomes inches, as I see her hair begin to smoke and her skin begin to redden.  I cannot move closer to her to help and my voice will not protrude.  I am no longer a body but only an onlooker as she turns to dust in a moment, the fire consuming her.  I awake in a house.


The panic from the café is still with me as I thrash awake violently.  There is an overwhelming sadness for the girl.  Though I had not known her previously, and hadn’t said so much as a life-saving word to her, I couldn’t help but feel my heart peel away a layer of love for the loss of such a beauty.  A Victorian home with furniture and décor from an era past confuses me as I sit up.  I’m on a couch, or a settee of some kind.  I am able to see my body again, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt with a jacket draped over the back of the couch.  I stand to see immensely tall lacunar ceilings with chandeliers above and white pillars edging the room.  The house is more of a mansion, and through the sprawling windows across the room I see encompassing fields and tall trees, not another house in sight.  “Hello?”  I am reminded of my recent inability to speak and the poor woman I was unable to save.  I’ll deal with that in time, I need to find my way home from this craziness.  I stand and notice I’m barefoot upon a cool hardwood floor, however, my feet aren’t mine.  The shape is familiar and the length of my toes seems congruent with what I know to be mine, however the size is reduced by nearly half.  My next observation is that my legs don’t seem to be out of proportion with my small feet.  My pants fit fine, and my shirt, though crudely out of style and obviously weathered, is in proper proportion to my body.  How could that be unless…

I’m approximately 10 years old, standing in a house to which I’ve never visited, let alone entered, or even seen for that matter. The fact that I am utterly aware of my retracted age doesn’t cause me alarm as this dystopian transformation from one location and state of affairs to the next has now trumped the concern of my age or circumstance.  My feet make a sticking sound as I walk towards an open door.  I must wonder if the room is really as prolific as I originally conceived, or if my small stature has amplified the opulence of my surroundings.  I peek through the door and around a corner to see a man sitting in a chair in front of a fire place.  No visible fire burns, which brings me a sigh of relief after my recent run-in with the café on the beach.  Even sitting, the man is tall, to which I accredit the comparison to my menial physique.  He has on a brown suit with a blue tie while a moderate and maintained beard covers a stoic and imposing jaw and features.  I slowly present myself to the room and brace for whatever reception is to be expected in this current scenario.  Little would surprise me at this point.  The man turns his head to look in my direction and then looks back to the vacant hearth.  I present myself more notably and enter the room without hesitation; surely we will engage in conversation should I appoint myself more firmly.  A hand grabs my arm and spins me aggressively, pulling me away from my original room and down a hall.  The man remains at the seat, pondering whatever internal queries he may have; while I am trying to endure the force of whatever person or creature has me in tow.  My head reels around to face forward, only to see hair blowing viciously in the wind as the walls begin to move faster and faster.  We are flying through the house, which must be over a mile long by now.  The tapestries on the walls are only blurs of color and light; but I am concerned little with the surroundings at this point, only focused on the hair in front of me and the hand around my arm.  We slam to a halt in a library room with a single chair in the center.  The ceiling and walls in this room must be three, maybe four times the height of the windowed room from earlier.  Massive bookshelves surround me, not a vacant spot amongst the hundreds of thousands of publications comprising a spiraling sea of literature.  My enthrallment subsides long enough to see the face of the person who had brought me here in such an abrupt fashion.  It’s her.

Not unlike our last meeting, I open my mouth to speak words of adoration and joy that she isn’t the pile of ash as I had previously left her, yet nothing comes.  My mouth remains open so long it becomes dry; my lips cracking like a man dying of thirst.  She stares on, looking into my eyes for an eternity beyond an eternity.  My tongue has dried and my eyes pour tears of regret over my inability to articulate my emotions as time continues to carry on.  Around us, books begin to wither and fall, the ceiling cracks and the shelves become brittle and splinter under the weight of the books.  The vines and flora from outside the mansion take hold of the structure and begin to crack floors and shatter windows.  We stare on, into each other’s eyes, never a blink or digression in intensity; never a word spoken.  We age.  

A decade passes in this manner, with her evolving into the woman I remember from the café.  Her eyes blink, breaking us free from the trance that had consumed us for almost a dozen years.  She moves past me, our adaptation abstractly appearing seamless in transition from children to adults.  Her hand touches mine as she moves to a pile of books on the floor, once high and out of reach, now crumbling to dust in a swell of lost knowledge.  Reaching down, she pulls a single, deliberate, piece of paper from the pile, carefully folding it and putting it into my hand.  She turns and walks away, never looking back as she exits the room, leaving me alone with the scrap of paper.  Everything in the world tells me to follow her, no matter where it may lead, but again, my body does not comply with the wishes of my mind.  I stand there, watching her turn the corner and vanish.  I look down to my open palm where there rests the single slip of paper; I slowly unfold the note to reveal its message

“Wake Up”

Bella Tonight

There's a wine tasting tonight at Bella Fiore wine hut in Carson if anyone is bored and is need of a substantial buzz on the cheap.  I'm actually down here, skipping the wine tasting and going straight to the wine drinking.  Got me a bottle of the good 'ol "F Bomb" and going to stand by and observe the shenanigans that I'm sure will ensue after about thirty minutes of fine wine, random conversation, and mediocre pizza (included!).

Come on down if you are in the area and are bored and need a drink. I'll be here until it ceases to be funny.

The Tinder Complex

Hey there guys, I haven't written anything in an inexcusable amount of time so I figured I should probably supply a smile for the day to those who enjoy smiling...in this case...at my insecurities and misfortune.

As a newly single man, a friend in Georgia enlightened me about a new app called "Tinder" which is essentially a pseudo dating app allowing two people to connect based on 4 pictures and three lines of informative nonsense.  Here's the gist: You are presented pictures of people, presumably in your geographic region and targeted demo, and you can select whether or not this person is attractive enough for your fabricated, nonsensical, standards or not.  At the same time, other Tinder-ers are out there doing the same thing and, upon having made a match in which one person settles for the limited mates within their region as well as the other persons looks, and the other person has had enough beer to allow them to accidentally hit "Like" instead of "Nope", you are pared with each other and a message board is presented to both parties for communication.

Now that I have briefly described the essential operational procedure for this app, let me tell you this: As idiotic as this sounds, and as much of a game as it is supposed to be, in the first week I had only one person match with me.  Carson City (et al) is not a large area and, seeing as there have been easily over 100 women to which I have swiped "Like" or "Nope", I would imagine that there would be at least a few gals out there who wants a piece of this.  I did not despair however, I continued forward with the hopes that everyday there would be new a woman discovering this app thanks to their friend in Georgia.  I was right!  Every day there have been approx 4-5 new faces on the app that now, more than before, carry more weight that when I originally began.  I don't even read the personal quips anymore; hell, I barely look at the pictures.  It just "Like", "Like", "Like".

I'm now 2 1/2 weeks into this app and still, the single match sits, unaccompanied by anyone even remotely interested in a 29 year old, employed, homeowner with family values and a motorcycle.  So, in the spirit of keeping my head up, I decided it was time to broaden the search because, let's face it, there's no reason for me to corner myself into the wildly inappropriate demographic that is 20-40 year old females...

I moved the bar to include women up to the age of 45.  Holy smoking hot meat market, Daris is cougar bait!!  I had 4 matches in the first 10 pictures.  Granted, this was a HUGE confidence booster, until I realized that the "mutual facebook friends" icon, which until now had remained sporadic at best with women being mutual friends with my professional snowboarding friend and bar owning cohorts, was now matching their friends to friends' of my friends' parents.  To put it this way, Tinder had found women who were friends with my mom...and friends with (older) people I know from work...and the lady that works at the Texaco.

After moving the bar down to 20-35...I think I'll just stick to going to bars and finding events in the local rags to meet women.  I don't know if the Tinder Complex I've developed is all that healthy and I don't think I'm ready to go on a date with a woman who keeps her Costco coupons in her day by day vitamin box.  Still, I can't help but look at my phone from time to time and wonder if one of those out-of-reach women has possibly left her child alone with her iphone long enough for the kid to accidentally "Like" Daris' profile.  I guess we'll have to wait and see.

I won the lottery you say? I'll take my payout in baby laughs please.

Just found a video of Dave's son Liam from a couple years ago.  If I could love anything as much as this kid loves a barking dog, I would quit my job and do nothing but that thing.  All the time.  Forever.

Nuthin Better Than A Wine Buzz

       Some friends of mine just made my life MUCH more entertaining by purchasing a wine bar here in Carson City.  For any of you out there who have yet to try Bella Fiore downtown, make your way across from the Supreme Court building (3rd Street and Curry) and get your thirst on.  Say hi to Neta and Ray and let them know how much you LOOOOVE wine and you might be lucky enough to get the scoop on any future wine tours they might be planning.  They are open Tuesday through Saturday right now and will be open Sundays starting in a few weeks.

       If you have no one to drink with, call me up.  It's 8 blocks from my house and I'm not known for my ability to make excuses to get out of drinking a bottle of wine.

 

Bella Fiore Wines is located at 224 South Carson Street (Curry side, across the street from Firkin and Fox), Carson City, NV 89701

Stuff to check out

So, I tend to listen to music that is more suited to a 16 year old girl because I enjoy upbeat, positive, anthem pop/rock.  Yes, sometimes I listen to queer music, sue me. If you don't get happy when Taylor Swift, The Script, or Katy Perry come on the radio then you have some serious negativity to work out in your life.

That being said, I've been listening to music this morning and actually picked up some pretty fun albums that, if you are anything like me, you would enjoy as well. 


Artist: Boys Like Girls
Album: Crazy World
2012

 

This is a super fun album that is a mix between their former pop/rock sound with a new country makeover.  It makes for an upbeat, positive vibe, album that has turned into my guilty pleasure.  Check it out if you're into these bands: Capital Lights, Friday Night Boys, All Time Low, One Direction

Artist: Camera Can't Lie
Album: The Album
2012

 

 

 A good rock album that is softer around the edges than most.  This album appealed to me because of the full sound, comprehendible lyrics, and the use of acoustic guitars in a lot of their songs.  Just a real chill rock album from a good band.
Check it out if your into these bands: The Maine, Safety Suit, Augustana, Dropping Daylight

Artist: Florida Georgia Line
Album: Here's to the good times
2012

If you don't have this ablum...get it.  This is the country album to party to right now.  So party.

How-To Wednesday - 11 ways to survive a budgetary apocalypse

So you’re super froggin’ broke.  Maybe you got an unexpected bill this month or had a car break down, or had to take a pet to the vet; only to realize the vet is also broke and is relying on you to pay for the Porsche he bought during his midlife crisis.  Whatever the situation may be, here are a few sure-fire ideas that will help you make it to your next paycheck.

 

1.       Pawn – Seeing as we all live in the United States (at least all four of us who read this blog), we are definitely privy to overabundance and the joys of financial frivolity.  Look around your house and I promise you will find something you can live without.  Even if it only garners 10 bucks, that still enough for a box of top ramen and gallon of milk.  So bag that random shit that you forgot you had, take to the greasy dude at the Guns/Liquor/Baby Cribs pawn shop and make that money.

2.       Carpool – At one point in my life, I was so broke that I ran my truck out of gas and didn’t turn it back on for 6 weeks.  But I survived.  So take those car keys off the ring, throw them in the freezer and call a friend for a ride.  There’s no shame in begging for rides, as long as you remember who did you a solid when you’re back on your feet and they need a ride.  You’d be surprised at how many great conversations you can have and how many friends you can make bumming rides with people.  Just don’t fart.  No matter what.

3.       Get Frosty – We all enjoy living in 69 degree, climate-controlled, warm and fuzzy houses.  This is one of those luxuries that is burned at the stake when the money dries up.  Go to the hallway, grab that fuckin knob and twist.  Humans don’t die in barely sub 60 degree environments.  It’s only for a week and you’ve been meaning to use that Snuggie you got as a white elephant gift 2 years ago anyway.  While you’re at it, get that shake weight out too, it’ll warm you up.

4.       Drink Water – A human being can live for something like 2 weeks without food, but apparently we turn into big giant pussies when it comes to not drinking water.  Skip a meal here and there and substitute it with 3 or 4 glasses of water; it will fill you up, keep you alive, and by making you have to pee, subsequently give you something to do during commercials.

5.       Be a Friend – At my poorest moment I was still never in any real danger of being homeless or dying of starvation or anything.  Even with zero money, I was always able to hit up a friend or two and find some kind of fun thing going on that happened to have grub at the venue.  I’d grab my bicycle, summon some malnourished strength, and head towards a sandwich.  Rule number one for this method of survival however: You are only allowed to call upon and/or utilize a specific friend once every three weeks, so use your lifelines sparingly and with deliberation.

6.       Call Mom – No matter how old you may be, if your mother is still alive, she wants to feed you.  Mothers never lose their instinctive need to care for their children and there has never been a better time than right now to call mom and beg for a care package.  She’ll even pay the postage.  I survived on a mother-supplied surplus of red vines, granola bars, hot chocolate, and raviolis for 5 days once.  She put FEMA to shame.  Swallow your pride and call your mom, raviolis are fucking delicious.

7.       Hibernate – Nothing passes the time like sleeping.  Now, I know some people will disagree with this method of frugality, but there’s no shame in going to bed right after work in an effort to pass the time until that paycheck shows up.  Even if you get of work at 4:30 in the afternoon.  This is more of a short term solution as depression might start to sink in after more than 4 days of 16hrs a day of sleep.  Then again, once you get paid, take 25 bucks down to the clinic and get some Prozac.  Boom.  Problem solved.

8.       Rice – As bland as it may sound rice is filling, cheap, and only takes water and heat to make edible.  The Japanese/Chinese/Asian Community as a whole have been using this shit for like 900 years and they’re making cars and computers and stuff; you can go a week on a rice diet.  Trailer park it up with some hot sauce or frozen corn and you’ve got yourself something you don’t have to cry over while eating.

9.       Work Thief – Now, this may not be applicable to your employment environment but it was for mine.  Go to the break room or food storage area (fridge, cabinets) at your job and steal that sandwich in the back of the fridge that has been there since yesterday.  Chances are that they’ve forgotten about it and/or aren’t going to get too pissed that it’s missing.  Worst case scenario, they confront you about it and you blame it on Kathy in accounting.  No one like Kathy in accounting.

10.   Embrace – So you’re poor and can’t afford food, or water, or lights.  You’ve been wanting to lose that stubborn 10 lbs and you’ve got 10 candles you’ve been meaning to burn, embrace this opportunity to do both.  I must have lost 20 lbs in 6 weeks when I was super broke; granted my methodology would probably be frowned upon by a nutritionist, but I got results goddamn it.  When the money starts coming again you’ll look back and remember that time you ate nothing but rice for 2 weeks, had uncontrollable diarrhea, slept for 16 hours a day, stole that guy from work with Leukemia’s sandwich and blamed it on Kathy, all while hitching your way around town from people who would just assume rob and murder you than get you where you need to go. 

11.   Get a second Job.

 

 

 

Goddamn Video Games. You're Making Me Feel Stupid

Luis has been helping me, or, we have been helping each other I should say, quit smoking. We are three and a half days in (even half days count in this kind of endeavor) and we haven't taken to drinking bleach or jumping off roofs as consolation for this burden.  It’s a win in my book.

 

On a more entertaining note, I’ve hit that point in my life where I’m realizing that I might be getting a little too old for video games.  On “Black Saturday”, or whatever it’s called (the day after Black Friday aka Zealous Consumer Contribution Day), I bought all of these video games that were supposed to just be the tits of entertainment.  Needless to say, I’ve played 3 levels of one of the games and the other 2 are still in their packaging.  Secondary assessment comparison – Last night my roommates and I were sitting around talking and someone fired up a snowboarding game that I own (but have only played once or twice) and we decided it would fun to take turns shredding down the digital mountains.  Luis is pretty much great at all of the video games he tries; his 23 year old brain is still mushy with responsive neurons.  It was fun to watch him blast the game apart and make it look easy enough that anyone could have success.  Next up was Allison who, despite her (what I imagine is) lack of experience with Playstation 3, still took to the physics engine side of things, precariously dropped out of the simulated helicopter onto the powder and made her way down the mountain whilst crushing Luis’ time, though lacking in style points.  Both solid showings.  Then Daris took the reins. 

 

I fell out of the helicopter.  Not even sure how one falls out of the helicopter that (what I thought) was just part of the initial video before the user even assumes control of the character.  Then, using my precision hand eye coordination and venerable trash talking skills, proceeded to fall all the way down the Korean designed, digitally rendered, Kilimanjaro landscape.  Why they let us snowboard some Tanzanian or African mountain (I don’t really know where Mt Kilimanjaro is located as you can clearly tell), I’ll never know.  What I do know is that, after only 6 or 7 minutes of completing only 15% of the run, I was ready to burn my fucking house down out of pure frustration.  I then proceeded to go outside, hang even more Christmas lights, change the headlamps in the Chevy, and shovel soggy, half frozen leaves from my side yard; all at 8:30pm.  Pissed.

 

I guess it’s just time that I admit to myself that I may not be as good as I once was at this video game business, but maybe that’s not a bad thing.  Three or four more tries at that game and my Christmas lights will be Griswold worthy, my truck will essentially be brand new, and there won’t be a goddamn leaf within 90 feet of my property.

Back to Business

So, I got the new roommates moved in and everything is settling in nicely.  I’ve neglected the sense of urgency to expedite my weight loss over the last two weeks or so, which has caught up with me.  I went to the gym last night for the first time in a few weeks and tried to do the regiment I was at prior to my break and, I’ll tell you what, if I didn’t think I was making progress before, it’s extremely apparent now.  This is both confidence inspiring as well as a bit daunting.  At least I know that I was making progress two or three weeks ago (when it felt like I was simply working for no result at the time) and that means that the same scenarios that are evoked during my revitalized workout schedule (ie Pessimism, Procrastination, Doubt) are all very much surmountable.   Also, I know that the work I was doing before was actually improving my health (both physically and emotionally) seeing as I am unable to achieve the degree of resistance in my exercising in addition to having lost some of my energy and positivity over these last two or three weeks.

 

Hopefully I’ll be able to get back into my routine with a bit more ease and re-establish my progress.  Luckily one of my new roommates is just as motivated as I am to get healthy over the winter.  He even got me to sign up for an intramural softball league that starts in the spring.  Just another motivator to get me going; seeing as the holidays are upon us and the caloric jihad against my dietary restrictions is in full effect.

 

Hope you are having a great weekend and looking forward to the Holidays!

Seeking Roommate. Must like Awesome.

So I'm officially on the hunt for a roommate to add to the already incredible duo we have at the house. The following is a highly exaggerated requirement list of the ideal candidate:

 

1.       Will love Captain Crunch cereal.  This is purposely number 1 on the list.  Clutch.

2.       Can laugh at their own stupidity.  No one likes a know-it-all…everyone likes a makes-fun-of-it-all.

3.       Can ride a Shetland Pony as hilariously as Sherlock Homes does in the second Sherlock Holmes movie.

4.       Has seen the second Sherlock Holmes movie.

5.       Can survive in a home where the thermostat maxes out at 69 degrees F.  It’s not the thermostat itself, per say, but more the me.

6.       Enjoys snowboarding/skiing in the winter…and isn’t offended when I go two runs down the hill and then go slosh up at the lodge for the rest of the day.

7.       Know how to fix a flat tire on their own car.  It shows the spirit and go get’m attitude that translates nicely into an excellent water balloon fight teammate.

8.       Though they don’t need to know the rules of NFL Football, they need to be able to unnoticeably feign interest in one way or another.

9.       Has a desire to paint their room and/or make the house someway unique to their personality.  No penis drawings.

10.   Can take a morning shower in under 10 minutes.  Otherwise, is comfortable showering at the Y.

11.   Can go chip for chip with me in the realm of nacho cheese consumption.  You can tell the strength of someone’s will by the amount of time it takes their tongue to go numb from Tostitos cheese poisoning.

12.   Has no qualms with holiday cheer.  If you don’t like Christmas, you need to find Jesus and get your life together.

13.   Doesn’t complain about cheap wine.  Most of the time I can’t tell the difference between middle of the road wine and…side of the road…wine, and I can get 2 bottles for the price of 1.  Should you disagree, BYOB.

14.   Complains about cheap scotch.  You can totally tell the difference between middle of the road scotch and…side of the road…scotch, and I’d rather get 1 bottle for the price of 2.  Should you disagree, it doesn’t matter because don’t touch my scotch, that’s why.

15.   Doesn’t get offended when I forget their birthday.  The only reason I remember my own is because people on Facebook get a reminder and then send me messages reminding me that it’s my birthday.

16.   Instead of complaining that one of the toilet seats is up or down, just (wo)man’s up and just puts it up or down.  I do it all the time and have NEVER thought to myself, “This is just the biggest goddamn inconvenience of my day.” Never have I thought that.

17.   Doesn’t clip their toenails in front of me.  One of my childhood friend’s fathers clipped his toenails in front of me when I was a kid and one hit me in the face from a ridiculous distance and angle and I almost threw up.  Scarred.

18.   Takes the time to learn the “New seasons of Parks and Recreation on Netflix” dance.   Lessons included in rent.

Got me a big ol' sack a Twitter

What’s the word Internet! 

It’s been a busy few days and, seeing as I’m the only one who reads this piece, I took a week or so off to be awesome and gather some fun times to share.  First, let’s touch on the diet that I’ve been so emphatic on keeping publicly available.  I am now 4 lbs lighter than when I started (which in reality isn’t that much based on my weight), but, it’s not 4 lbs heavier!  My activity level has been diminished due to the release of Madden13 which is mind-bendingly addicting as well as my need to appreciate these last fleeting days of sunshine.  That being said, I’m back in the saddle and ready to laugh.

So, per usual, I’m half a decade behind the times and just started using Twitter and it turns out that there’s already a Daris Smith in this world that isn’t me and already knows about Twitter.  So, thanks to that guy’s parents for crushing my dreams of being @DarisSmith so I’m stuck with @SmithDaris, which, frankly I think partitions me into the more tame end of the nominative spectrum.  But, seeing as it takes a bunch of time to get on here and blurt out a bunch of nonsense, I figured I’d give the whole, “140 characters or less” thing a try and see if I can be more succinct in my clouded cerebral wanderings.  Silver lining, the other Daris’ Twitter updates are disreputably un-entertaining, making it fairly easy to distinguish us apart.  So there’s that.

Also, I’ve gotten into making iced tea and let’s just say that, other than my keen sense of smell and the ability to sleep through car alarms, my strongest talent may lie in the art of brewing tea.  The secret is to have no idea what you’re doing but to confidently stick to drinking every brewed drop with a smile on your face.  It sells the whole thing.  Now, have I made some sickeningly horrific tea concoctions? Yes. Have I thrown any away, thereby admitting defeat in my prowess for tea brewing?  Hells no.  Let me tell you, I’ve drank some gnarly teas these last couple of weeks but I’ve also brewed some stuff you could bottle and sell to Lipton at a little over cost.  That’s the dream.  Lol.  On a tea-making note, never try and brew any kind of cinnamon tea.  It comes out tasting like what I imagine Jabba the Hutt’s back sweat would taste like.

Doodle from joshealey

 

Check me out on Twitter @SmithDaris for the daily observations and mindless jabberwocky.

Admitting It

   
        Totally went to the gym last night, and this morning.  I’ve grabbed my horrifying sedentary lifestyle and poor eating habits by the nards and twisted.  So, as a change, instead of just writing down the things I’ve been doing (working out and eating wise), I’ve decided to share some of the food and fitness related embarrassments that I’ve committed over the course of my weight inflation.  I’m sure that many of you have done the some of the same things but have just been ashamed to admit it (maybe even to yourself); but I feel like I owe it to myself to write them down and get them out so I can move past it.

1.       I’ve gotten home early and taken food to my room and hid it before anyone else got home so I could eat it in bed and no one would see me sneaking it when they were around.

2.       I’ve made excuses NOT to go out with friends because I wanted to eat junk food and stay at home and watch television.

3.       I’ve eaten an ENTIRE large Round Table pizza to myself.

4.       I’ve lied about what I’ve eaten in a day because I was embarrassed to admit it to someone.

5.       I’ve knowingly sacrificed my health for crap food that just made me feel bad about myself.

6.       I get annoyed with watching people eat because of what food means to me.

7.       I’ve actually been addicted to fast food and gotten genuinely upset when I can’t have it.

8.       I forgot what a plum, peach, and mango tasted like.

9.       I wear sweatshirts when it’s hot outside because I don’t like what I look like in t-shirts.

10.   I haven’t been outside without a shirt on in 3 years (even in my own yard).

11.   I’ve had a hangover at least two days a week for as long as I can remember.

12.   My mental acuteness has suffered because of my unhealthy lifestyle.

13.   I’m almost positive I have made irreversible damages to my body and length of life due to my behavior.

14.   I find it incredibly hard to have a meaningful relationship with a woman because I am so insecure about my own body and behavior.

      These are some of the things that I have tried to hide from everyone as well as myself over the course of nearly half a decade.  Now that I can look at this list, it really instills conflicted emotions, both of sadness and joy; I am sad that I let my life become so unmanageable and depressing but at the same time I see the huge gap of improvement I am able to make by changing.  I can’t say whether I’ll stick to this whole lifestyle improvement or not, but I can say one thing for sure, I’ve never been able to admit to the things above to anyone, not even myself.  This is a good start.