Things people say...

My boss just found a cigarette butt on the ground outside and proceeded to state the following in a voice worthy of an aneurysm, “Attention everyone! If I find another cigarette butt on the ground, I’m going to ban smoking from the entire country. Seriously.”

New Years Reillusion 2

I went to church this weekend and, though it's been a while since I took part in a large scale, organized, religious event, I had a pretty good time. As it was on the 1st of the year, the pastor, Pastor Bob or Bill or something, made the entire sermon about resolutions and fitness and health (both spiritually and physically) and it got me thinking; it's time for me to revamp my New Year’s Resolutions and get them going again.

Over the years, I have been the eternal optimist in the morning and told myself that I am capable of all these miraculous changes and life-altering metamorphoses but somehow, at the end of the day, I land directly on my jumping off point. This year I have no idea where to begin; do I pick a habit to kick? Do I try and add something of benefit to my life? Do I change my outlook on a certain topic? I have no idea. I think the best thing for me to do this year is to keep an open mind and try and learn what and who it is I want to be so that I can unearth the elements of my life that need to be altered in order to achieve the end result of the person I want to become. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not all that upset with who I am right now, but I think we can always improve and the only way to do that is to be open and brutally honest with ourselves about the shortcomings we hold onto inadvertently and the insecurities we carry with us. I know that I have a lot of those and there are a million different ways to go about touching upon them and ironing them out of my daily life but I still don’t really know where to start. I think touching on one of them each day, or week, or even month (depending on their level of embeddedness in my lifestyle and core personality) and really exploring why I maintain that specific trait or characteristic will give me some insight into the workings of myself on an elemental level; thus letting me rebuild fundamentally, one thing at a time. This sounds like it may be a bit more work while at the same time a lot easier in the long run for me to make the significant life changes I need. Wow, thanks blog.



(image courtesy of fbcsayre.org)

That Time of Year Again!!!

So, it's that time of year again; fitness and health need to become more important to me. Now, I say it's, "That time of year again", but really it's been like 16 or 18 months since the notion of getting into shape crossed my mind last so it has been a little over a year. Anyways, my "Before" pictures look pretty much the same as they did 18 months ago and my "After" pictures never even got developed and may still be in my disposable camera in the pantry by the cupcakes. I'm thinking this time around, as a way to embarrass myself into action, I might just post my "Before" pictures and force myself to commit by posting updated pictures weekly. I'm thinking the embarrassment of a lack of improvement may be just what I need to break my habit of annihilating a bag of Ruffles and licking it clean while simultaneously camping out on the sofa with the assumption that completing every episode in the How I Met Your Mother Collection is some kind of human accomlishment. Seriously, no holding back this time around. Back on the wagon.

Bear Fight

This is the greatest thread ever. Girls probably won't enjoy it but, believe me, Seth, Ken, Dave, Eli, and Hose B; you gotta read this shit.


Bear Fight

Stupid Stork

So I've been around tons of babies as of late due to the incessant bombardment of suckling tots within my general vicinity wherever I find myself. I have no problems with babies being around, I love babies. I’m just finding that playing with other people’s babies is kind of like test driving a car; some folks have kids that are like Ferraris or Bentleys that have the ability to make you never want to leave them and be forced to return to your broke-down 1981 Datsun 280ZX of a childless existence while others are cursed with a child so disturbed that after ten minutes with them I find solace in imagining myself sitting in my broke down vehicle in a sealed garage trying to get the motor to turn over for the sole purpose of acquiring carbon monoxide poisoning. Whichever scenario parents find themselves in, a good child or unruly one; they unearth unconditional love in the eyes and smiles of their children and almost instantaneously become part of an elite community of patient and care-giving human beings. I find myself wanting more and more to become part of this community and yet I still suffer uncontrollable fear when thinking of another life form relying on my maturity and instinctual prowess to be able to keep it alive. Women tell me that I have a “knack” for children and I can’t deny that I generally get more giggles and smiling mouth bubbles from babies than I do screams and squirms, yet, I’m wrestling with the thought that I may not be the ideal candidate to have children based on my need for self-fulfillment and lack of financial opulence. I have a lot of friends who have had to sacrifice a million things in their life due to an unexpected newborn and they all maintain that their lives have been enriched and taken a turn for the better in immeasurable leaps and bounds. However, staying true to my facetiously, yet realist, roots, I preserve that these folks are just in denial and haven’t the time to reminisce on the “what might have been” because they are too busy trying to change a diaper in a McDonalds bathroom or figuring out how to make 20 dollars buy 40 dollars worth of groceries. Keep in mind that this is only in reference to my friends who have had unplanned children. I know an exponentially greater number of couples who have planned and prepared for the magic of parenthood and to them I say kudos. For some reason though, I can’t help but to inadvertently acknowledge the pitfalls suffered by the first group of unprepared parents and see that to be the standard of what awaits every potential father. Then again, as a professional bachelor I must say that I don’t exactly have the counterbalancing opinion and input of a woman to provide the pros of the situation and the rewarding fruits reaped through procreation. I guess I should probably go out and get a girlfriend and rewrite this piece with a bit more sensitivity and a feel for the nurturing elements I seem to be currently lacking. Baby steps Daris, baby steps.

Dana Point Brithday

In Dana Point for my birthday and have yet to see a celebrity; aside from a large black man getting into his helicopter at the airport with his even larger entourage. Had a decent champagne brunch this morning which never hurts, then took a stroll through downtown Laguna Beach. I don't know what all the fuss is about on television about this place; in all honesty I would much rather spend the day sitting on a patio looking out at the beach while drinking too many beers or spend an entire Saturday on a Criminal Minds marathon. Apparently when you have based your opinion of a place on media outlets and images spread around, you tend to believe that the place you are looking at actually looks like that. No. This place is beautiful but let me tell you that when you are on vacation it is always made best by the company you keep rather than where you are. Wait, I did see Frankie Munez.

Summertime

It actually got hot yesterday. For the first time in 7 months, the sun shined, the birds chirped, and the sound of the lawn mowers could be heard for two blocks. Summer is finally here. Granted, I spend the bulk portion of my Sunday cleaning the house and working around the yard, but I still appreciated the need to utilize the oscillating floor fan and a swamp cooler running on about it's last leg. Summertime has the unequivocal capability of making things seem a little less shitty and a little more hopeful. Through the years I've seen different summers, in different towns, with different people; and through the years I've come to notice that each summer, though timelessly familiar as it may seem, is unique every time it comes. Summertime as a child is a time to run, and laugh, and get hurt, and apply fresh stains to church pants while trying to figure out how your dog Puddles has the ability to lay under the cool protection of the deck without being scared of spiders. When we hit 13 years old the summer becomes a time when you can stay awake later because your parents allow you circumstantial curfew amnesty against the standard bed time due to the sun's presence throughout the evening. After 18, summer tends to remain loosely defined as the time when you wish you had done more jogging in the winter and less baking. This is also the time when women of all ages blossom from their parkas, break out the skimpy shorts and tank tops, and make the men of the world rejoice after months of taxing deliberation and patience waiting for the sun to melt away the layered ensembles of winter. It's amazing how deceivingly sexy some women can be with a swim suit on.

So now, I roll into my 25th year of season changes, in Carson City, NV. As I wade out of a winter filled with financial struggles, relationship tribulation, and identity crisis, I can only hope the sun has the sterilizing ability to lift the spirits of, not only the blooming annuals, but myself as well.