Zombie Strippers - 1 out of 5 Stars

I watch a lot of movies, a LOT of movies, and a majority of them are not really that good; The Doom Generation, Bloodrayne, Moulin Rouge, The Room, Fatty Drives the Bus (sorry Mick Napier and Joe Bill) just to name a few. So I like to think that I am open minded about movies, I will try to watch the whole thing. I will even try to look through the special features to see if there is anything redeeming there. Most of the time, I find the interviews with the cast and crew to be hilariously out of step with the piece.

On several occasions, I have had the luxury to watch movies that are really bad. I can only really call them movies because they were placed on celluloid. The movies themselves are scripted horribly, acted just as well, oddly lit, but almost always captured on high quality HD or film stock. These movies have their saving graces, whether it is a slightly comical side character, gratuitous nudity or gore. It is a chore to get through the whole film, and I usually will run and recommend these movies to specific people. It follows the age old mantra - "I had to suffer through algebra in high school, so you will have to suffer through algebra in high school."

But the real fun in these movies comes from the behind the scenes features and interviews. Watching as these "actors" speak so highly of what the had just created, as if it were Spartacus or Ben Hur. They will speak of the socio-economic ramifications of their film, of the political satire that they succeeded in relating, it's High-Art conceptual spirit. When I hear this, I always think to myself, "Were they shooting another movie when they gave this interview?" Because there is no way that there was any of that in the movie I just watched.

Case in point: Zombie Strippers. Take a pseudo-intellectual writer/director/producer/editor/etc. with a penchant for philosophers and old school French playwrights, add classic character actors Robert Englund (Freddy Krueger) and Jenna Jameson (Porn), one location, and have all of the characters spout off Nietzsche as they are doing various activities that have nothing to do with pondering your existence. You have to make sure, though, that these actors only say the words, not feel them or understand what they are spouting. And make sure that there are (not so) subtle homages to all the philosophers and heady thinkers throughout the entire film, in characters and places names.

Watching this movie was like getting mid-range adult film actresses to do their dirty business while reading from Beckett. I'd call it "Fellating for Godot"

Would You Rather ...

I suffer from an addictive personality. I have severe problems saying no to things, or more things, like sweets. And I tend to eat really fast, so that just compounds the problem. I am like a dog, if you leave a big of dog food out they will eat until they explode.

This thought was on my mind as I was going out to pick up the ingredients for a dessert I was making for my coworker's birthday. Because of my inability to stop eating sweet or great tasting food, I sometimes have to deny myself even one taste of them.

This got me thinking about enjoyment and creation. I like to make these desserts, but I can't sit down like everyone else and have a big helping of it. As I thought more on this, a question rose in my mind: What would I choose, to be able to create but not enjoy, or enjoy but not create?

Would I rather be able to cook wonderful meals but never be able to eat them? Or would I rather eat a 5 star meal and taste how wonderful it is, and how it can change my perspective, but know that I am incapable of making something so wonderful?

Luckily, I don't think life is black and white like this, but if you had to choose, Create but not Enjoy, or Enjoy but not Create, which way would you go?

Best Rock Ballad EVER!

Holiday Spirits

At my office, I have to deal with many people on a daily basis, answering their questions about casting notices, running clearances on people at the last minute, etc. I try to make their day both a little brighter and a little easier. And one of these people called me up today and asked me if I like red or white wine. With the holidays approaching, many of the companies that we deal with send us gift baskets to say thanks for helping make their year a prosperous one.


I unfortunately can't drink wine, but I can drink beer. Where did the stigma come from that when you attend a party, or send a gift, you would give wine? There are some really fancy beers, pretty much anything from Belgium, that could compete with any wine.


Let's say you would spend $20 on a nice bottle of gift wine, you could spend same $20 and get a really high end six pack of quality beer, or a four pack, or in some cases, just one beer. (There are $20 Beers, I have had them, and they are both good and strong.) Here is just a few, courtesy of a fine beverage store, Cork 57, with a great selection of higher end beers and wines.




So this year, when you have to go to a party or give a gift, give the gift of beer. Think about this, have you ever gone to someone's place and seen bottles of wine that have yet to be opened and enjoyed? Now, have you ever gone to someones place and seen bottles of beer that have yet to be opened and enjoyed?


Exactly.

The Jackson 5 -1

I listen to Pandora while I am at work, it helps to make the day go by quicker, and one of the major ads they have on the site is for this new series, The Jack5ons: A Family Dynasty. This new series seemingly focuses on the four brothers, what's left of the Jackson 5, attempting to be musical. Apparently on the heels of their brothers death, the family now has a burgeoning musical career and tv series. But question for you is this, besides the late King of Pop, and Tits-out Janet, who else from this "dynasty" is talented enough to warrant a comeback, or even a series?

When you think of the Jackson 5, who do you remember? Michael. You don't remember Tito, Jermaine, Jackie or the other one. (Marlon, just found out, apparently the Jackson's and the Wayans are a crossover family)

So if the only real talented ones are either dead or not involved in this new show, who cares?

I'm nottrying to be mean, it just don't make no sense.

Art is ________

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, then how come when you are assigned a thousand word essay for a class or something, you get an F if you turn in a picture?

Serendipity on a Gloomy Day

Growing up, my parents would get my brother and I Advent Calendars for the Christmas Season. For those who don't know, an Advent Calendar is a calendar that counts from December 1 - 25, and behind each of the dates is a piece of chocolate.

This year was the first year that my parents didn't send us one. ( know, I am 33 and my brother is 38, but we love us some Advent Calendars) My folks are busy going through everything we have owned EVER and have not really been able to relax and do their traditional holiday fun. (ex. We have already been given our Christmas presents, a big fat check. No complaints here)

My brother and I were talking a couple of days ago, and I was at the store looking for an Advent Calendar, and as life goes, the place I was at didn't have one. My brother recommended Target, and I agreed with him, thinking last year I had seen them there. I decided to make a trip to get up my treats.

Fast forward two days to Wednesday, 12/3. I am clearly falling behind in my Christmas Calendar Chocolate Consumption, but life does get in the way. Is a blustery, rainy day. Driving from work was not pretty and I was tempted to push off hunting down this calendar for another day, but as I near my house (and the Target), the rain began to let up, just enough to get my spirit going. So I get to the parking garage, and make my way over to the Target complex. I had multiple missions this night, one was to find Shadow of the Colossus on PS2. So first I go to Best Buy, they don't have my game, and I remember that Target also has an electronics section, so I head over.

Before I get to the electronics section in Target, there is of course the Seasonal section, so I scour the aisles for an Advent Calendar. No luck, but maybe I was just preoccupied by wanting to get the game. So I pop up into electronics and, as my night is going, no dice on the game. Dejectedly I head back to the seasonal section and scour once more, looking very closely. I see so many things there but no Advent Calendar. I look at the impulse buy sections as I am walking out, no luck there either. On a whim, I hop over to Bed Bath & Beyond. They are a store that carries all sorts of funky stuff, so I thought, maybe, just maybe. But nothing there either.

The parking garage is on top of a Giant Grocery store, and you get 2 hour free parking if you buy something at the Giant, so I was already going there. And I thought to scope out there, just to see. Giant has a Seasonal section as well and I walked up and down it twice, still nothing. I walk over to the candy aisle and look, and nothing there. I have given up on the quest.

Since I have to buy something in order to get the free parking, I am walking by all the registers, looking for a Coca-Cola cooler. I see one and reach in and grab a coke, and look up, directly on top of this cooler, and what do I see? ADVENT CALENDARS!

I love when things like that happen. I spent so much time furiously searching for it, only to find it when I gave up hope of having it. The Big Guy has a cracked sense of humor, but I love it, and wouldn't change it for anything.

Chuck Norris Facts

You should all know of this great site, chucknorrisfacts.com. It is truly fun. I was sick over the weekend and reading the Chuck Norris Facts book, and I came up with a few of my own. So here you go.

- Jedis use the Force. The Force uses Chuck Norris
- Both Samuel L. Jackson and Chuck Norris are Jedis. Sam's lightsaber is purple, Chuck's lightsaber is round-house kick.
- When Chuck Norris goes into space, black holes are drawn to his gravitational pull.

Elvis Water Torture

I spent the weekend being fairly ill, which means a lot of time watching movies/tv. I chose to catch up on my Stargate SG-1 on Hulu.com. But for some reason, the ONLY commercial that played at EVERY commercial break for what seemed the ENTIRE DAY, was the SiriusXM commercial featuring Elvis' hit, "All Shook Up." The first time I saw the commercial, I shook my sick little booty to the sweet beats. By the fifth repetition, I was not angry at XM or hulu, I was actually contemplating the lyrics of the song.

"A well I bless my soul, What's wrong with me?
I'm itching like a man on a fuzzy tree
My friends say I'm actin wild as a bug
I'm in love, I'm all shook up"

To be honest I heard "I'm actin WHITE as a bug" but it still seems off. Those middle lines perplexed my mind, what is a 'fuzzy tree' and why does it cause intense itching? Is Elvis talking about a tree covering in poison ivy? and how do bugs act 'wild', or 'white', to symbolise a love like feeling?

But after a couple more rounds in the 'commercial catfight', I began to contemplate who I needed to kill so that they would play any other commercial during the breaks.

By the end of the night, I would stare off into space, while it played, because I was afraid I would get violent.

I only swung at the monitor once, out of frustration. So I guess I have a pretty high tolerance for pain.

Beer Review in Haiku

Leinenugel's Fireside Nut Brown



Nutty "nosed" water
With a hint of beer to it
and only three bucks.

What's in a Name?

I had an epiphany recently, which helped me to realize why I am so opinionated. My name, when you break it down means, "Purveyor of Justice" or "Purveyor of Full Justice." I think this can also explain my sense of self-entitlement.

But then I thought about my brother. His name means "Purveyor of Death."

It's almost like we were destined to be vigilantes, like two other brothers I know.

What does your name mean?

This is my family

Yesterday, I got an email from my Grandmother, wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving. Which is a nice thought, but she died two years ago.

Honestly, I have no response.

There were pictures attached and the last line was, "Sending ... a photo of my new residence. It is very cold here but I love it."

New TV Show Idea

"So You Think You're an American?"

Illegal immigrants and visiting aliens compete for US Citizenship in this raucous reality TV show. Using their newfound knowledge of American history and culture, American based dance and music, and slang, competitors battle each other and CURRENT American citizens for a rightful place in this great country of ours!

America, F*CK YEAH!

November 9th, 1989

Germany Remembers Fall of Berlin Wall - Article

Video about the Berlin Wall

I was thirteen years old. My dad was stationed in Berlin before, from 1978 to 1985. So when we went back to Berlin in the summer of 1989, it was like coming home. Up until this point in my life, and even now, I have spent the largest percentage of my life growing up in Berlin. Living there felt right; every time my dad was stationed stateside, I would freak out. This was borne from the countless hours of TV that had been taped by our extended family and sent to us, so we would have something to watch. Unlike the US in 1989, Berlin had ONE TV station, AFN, the Armed Forces Network. It was one part patriotic propaganda and one part escapism. The tapes my aunts and uncles would send were completely with everything American, including commercials. And I ate it all up. Like a sponge I soaked up every ounce of info I could on America. At this time, the only part of America I knew about from experience, was Sierra Vista, Arizona (very flat and dry), and Fort Polk/Leesville, Louisiana (meh, kids with a seriously askew sense of self-entitlement). I had no idea about the rest of this great country. I would ask my mom, when we had to travel to the US, if we had to stop at the border of California and get Nevada money, thinking that the states were just like all of the European countries, and would need the appropriate currency.

Safety was also an issue for me. There was a great sense of safety in Berlin, and all of this TV I had been watching from the US made it seem like every corner in America had someone waiting to take your wallet or shoot you. It was extremely nerve-wracking to deal with. When we moved back state-side, my junior year of High School, I remember having a panic attack about what I was about to experience. In a way, I had lived my whole life in a gated community, my eyes shielded, by my parents and the military community, from things I didn’t need to know about, or couldn’t comprehend at my impressionable age.

Shortly after the Wall came down, my dad got stationed back state-side, and we moved permanently back to the US. I can honestly say that I am still coping with living in the US, still feeling as though this is the foreign country to me.

What Your Stuff Reveals About You

What Your Stuff Reveals About You

Our choices in books, movies, music, and art go to the core of who we are. What your tastes reveal about you.
By Eriq Gardner, Jay Dixit, published on September 01, 2008. Courtesy of Psychologytoday.com


Michaela was a strong, confident woman who loved mainstream contemporary pop. Her boyfriend was a fan of electronic dance music. When the two had been together for a few months, they decided to take a road trip to Philadelphia so he could meet her parents. The problem was that Michaela's boyfriend was driving—and thus controlling the radio. "I hated his taste in music," she recalls. "It was weird and rattled my nerves." Meanwhile, he was bored by her favorite music. Each felt their artistic choices were superior—and both were convinced of the rightness of their own opinion. They couldn't agree, and soon they were in a terrible fight. They never did make it to Philadelphia—and their relationship didn't last much longer, either.

Arguing about taste is as fundamental as having it in the first place. We take for granted that different people enjoy different things—and that others feel as confident in their judgments as we do in ours.

Our choices in books, music, art, and design go to the core of who we are. "Taste can offer us a doorway into people's lives," says Sam Gosling, a psychologist at the University of Texas at Austin and author of Snoop: What Your Stuff Says About You. "Taste reveals a lot about what someone values and needs to fill their life with meaning."

We consume books, movies, music, and visual art primarily to fulfill the internal emotional needs that are fundamental to our personalities. But we also make choices about art based on a desire to carve out identities for ourselves—to articulate the stories of our lives. By the same token, we look for those stories in others. We also feel intuitively that we can judge others by their tastes. Unfortunately, those judgments are often wrong—largely because we pay attention to the wrong things. It pays to learn how to spot the real clues.

The taste hunters

Even as a child, John Darnielle's appetite for exploring music was insatiable. He'd spend hours in the garage rooting through jazz records, teaching himself to play the songs on his guitar. Like many who seek out a wide range of art at a young age, Darnielle continued to be artistically open-minded throughout his adulthood. Today, as lead singer in the indie-rock band The Mountain Goats, he still seeks out new music, often listening to five or six genres a day. "The music I'm least interested in is the type I'm capable of making myself," says Darnielle. "I want to be in awe."

Darnielle is high in openness, the characteristic of creative, curious, and imaginative people. Such people tend to be taste hunters—constantly sampling new music, scouring movie reviews for undiscovered gems, and visiting art museums. Their curiosity drives them to explore the world in search of novelty.

The living spaces of highly open people contain more books, CDs, and DVDs—and their collections are more eclectic—than their less open counterparts, Gosling has found. They enjoy discovering new artistic material and influencing the tastes of others. "Individuals who rate high in openness tend to be more adventurous in taste," says Jason Rentfrow, a psychologist at the University of Cambridge. "As they grow older, they will allocate more time and money trying to be as omnivorous as they can."

Highly open people are also far more likely to become artists themselves, according to a BBC survey of 90,000 people. "Openness correlates to a great range of tastes," explains Stephen Dollinger, a psychologist at Southern Illinois University. "These individuals are more cultured and have a greater conception of what makes great and interesting art."

Less open people, meanwhile, may be stuck on the tastes of their youth, watching nostalgic movies on Nick at Night and listening to classic rock.

The thrill seekers

Sarah Angelmar grew up in Fontainebleu, the stuffy Parisian suburb where French kings used to spend their summers. As an extroverted, highly social girl in a historic but boring town, she spent her nights dreaming of going to America and hitting it big as a pop star.

She chose Madonna as her role model, writing out all her lyrics and singing and dancing in homemade versions of her music videos. "Madonna expressed the lust and emotional drama of a young woman's life," recalls Angelmar. Today, as a fashion executive in New York City, Angelmar still looks for sensory pleasure in the art she consumes. "My favorite books, art, music, and everything have always been very colorful, beautiful, and sensual," she observes.
The sensation-seeking style Angelmar embodies is a hallmark of extroverts—lively, active, social people who crave sensory excitement in the art they seek out. You don't have to be a sensation seeker to be an extrovert, but it helps. "They're bored without high levels of stimulation," explains Gosling. "They love the bright lights and hustle and bustle, and they like to take risks and seek thrills."

Extroverts' lust for sensation draws them to action-adventure movies and music videos, but also leaves them bored by game shows and news programs, according to a study at University of Lleida in Spain. They watch less TV than most, preferring the spontaneity and excitement of face-to-face social encounters, but their need for constant sensory or intellectual stimulation means they tend to leave the TV on while engaging in other activities such as reading, eating, or even cuddling.

Sensation seekers are also particularly drawn to pornographic and horror films. In one study, subjects viewed a 20-minute segment of Friday the 13th. Sensation-seeking people didn't just enjoy the movie more; they actually salivated more, indicating higher levels of alertness and cognitive processing.

Extroverts are also drawn to art with "sensational elements"—wild colors, forceful action, and themes of sex or violence—such as paintings depicting war, castration, or rapture. Thus, extroverts might be drawn to the aggressive drip paintings of Jackson Pollack or the chaos and suffering depicted in Picasso's Guernica. "Most people have a bias toward the familiar, preferring pleasant, realistic art to abstract or surreal art," explains Jennings Bryant, a psychologist at Indiana University, "but sensation seekers' attraction to novelty and emotionally arousing, even unpleasant, themes make them more ready to accept modern art and unpleasant themes in art and photographs."

Another hallmark of extroversion is the need to connect with others, which drives extroverts to rock concerts, dance clubs, and movie theaters—environments that are both highly social and highly stimulating. That's also why extroverts particularly enjoy music with vocals. "They're drawn to the human voice," explains Gosling. "They want to connect."

Introverts, meanwhile—those reserved, thoughtful, self-reliant types who draw their energy from spending time by themselves—tend to take a contemplative, critical approach to art and music. For them, form is more important than emotional expression, according to research by the late University College London psychologist Cyril Burt. Whereas extroverts enjoy sensational art, introverts prefer more contemplative music with highly developed formal elements, like the mathematical symmetries of Bach fugues or the technical complexity of Debussy or Chopin. And when it comes to film, introverts are suckers for character development—think Taxi Driver, Harold and Maude, and Lost in Translation.

The self-medicators

Jason Ozick's parents divorced when he was 5, and he was an anxious, moody child. When his father picked him up for their weekends together, it was Ozick who chose the music they listened to in the car, playing artists like Portishead and Elliott Smith. "He used to always accuse me of picking 'mood music,' " he recalls.

When he listens to those songs now, he says, he feeds off the raw emotions, imagining himself singing them onstage. "I still listen to a lot of music that's emotional," he says. "I listen to a musician and identify with what he's going through."

People high in neuroticism—less emotionally stable people who are anxious, sensitive, and easily upset—tend to be artistically creative and gravitate toward emotionally turbulent art, including films, songs, and literature often seen as romantic, according to Burt's research. They decorate their living spaces with inspirational posters bearing messages like, "Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference," or, "Until you spread your wings, you'll never know how far you can fly." These self-affirmations help neurotic people manage their tendency to worry and become blue, explains Gosling. "The posters are a visual form of self-medication."

Neurotics use art to regulate their moods in the same way. When feeling sad, they may be inclined to wallow in their misery by choosing melancholic music, movies, or books. Or, they may choose uplifting art to boost their mood. "Neurotics are more likely to focus on content rather than structure," explains Adrian Furnham, a psychologist at University College London.
Neurotic souls may be onto something. There's reason to believe consuming art is a highly effective strategy for regulating internal states. As Woody Allen put it: "I can't listen to that much Wagner. I start getting the urge to conquer Poland." Viewing art for 40 minutes reduced stress as effectively as 5 hours of postwork decompression, according to a study measuring levels of the stress hormone cortisol among London office workers. And a study of people in 30 countries showed that the most popular method for reducing stress was listening to music—ranking just above watching TV and taking a bath. (Having sex came in sixteenth, and consulting a psychologist placed last.)

The highly neurotic also use art to validate their feelings of sadness, anger, and alienation. Neurotic people are more likely, for instance, to enjoy rap and heavy metal. "Listening to aggressive styles of music... might feel cathartic," explains Rentfrow. "It lets them know there are others out there who feel similarly, and that it's OK to rage."

At the other end of the stability spectrum, even-tempered, easygoing, and optimistic people prefer classical art such as baroque architecture. They respond to art that emphasizes form over feeling and have the emotional stability to appreciate unity and formalistic detail. "I'm liable to feel panicked and I find it easy to lose my cool," says author and philosopher Alain De Botton. "I'm attracted to monastic environments and also minimalism. It's easy to imagine that someone who is the opposite is seduced by ornate detail."

Art as decoration

Hillary Nagy grew up the oldest child in her family, graduated from the prestigious U.S. Naval Academy, and went on to a career as a high-powered marketing executive in New York City. She's equally achievement-oriented at home, working hard to make sure all the elements of her decor work in concert. "I'm always thinking about how I can tie together one of our bedrooms," she says. "I go through countless iterations of what would be best."

She tends toward figurative art that realistically depicts the things she enjoys in real life, such as beaches and palm trees. To her, the purpose of art is to decorate her living spaces and keep things looking "aesthetically nice." But she doesn't seek out, explore, or engage art. "This sounds sad, but I'm not really passionate about anything right now," she admits. "I innately look to others for their reactions as I'm looking to discover my opinion."

Nagy clearly fits the profile of a highly conscientious person—dependable, focused, task-oriented people who enjoy order and rules. These people don't enjoy art for emotional regulation or intellectual engagement. Instead, they view art as an external commodity, useful for improving the aesthetics of their living spaces or for relating to people who are truly interested in it. "Those high in conscientiousness may see art as an extrinsic element in their lives rather than an intrinsic one to explore," explains Dollinger.

The conscientious tend to prefer conventional art to modern paintings or other abstract art, and often approach music from an aesthetic distance, with a cold, logical point of view. They tend to focus on the technical proficiency of the artist or the market value of the work rather than on their own emotional reactions. "Conscientious individuals to some extent are the opposite of artistic, intuitive, and imaginative people and may therefore be more likely to experience art in rational ways," explains Furnham.

There is no gene for jazz

One of the most surprising findings in the field of taste research is that artistic preferences have a strong genetic component. A study of 3,000 twins, for instance, revealed that whether we like jazz or not is partially heritable. Other artistic tastes may also be influenced by genetics.
That is not to say that there is a gene for liking jazz music the way there are genes for eye color or sickle cell anemia. What may be inherited, though, are particulars of personality and aspects of intelligence that influence enjoyment of certain forms of art.

That differences in taste attitudes are heritable stands to reason, given that personality itself is partly genetically determined. The difference between someone who loves torture movies like Saw and someone who loves Pablo Neruda poems may come down to a difference in inherited brain chemistry. The former may be driven to sensation-seeking; the latter may have a more introverted mind that delights in contemplative thought.

Cognitive ability, another factor that influences taste, is also partly genetic. We inherit such capacities as attentional focus, memory, and speed and depth of associative thinking. These skills may help a person understand—and therefore appreciate—the complex and spontaneous nature of jazz, free verse, improv comedy, and other art forms that require mental flexibility.

Intelligence may play yet another role. Satoshi Kanazawa, an evolutionary psychologist at the London School of Economics, proposes that intelligent people may be more likely to acquire evolutionarily novel tastes—that is, a predilection for things that did not exist 10,000 years ago, such as instrumental music. Intelligence, however, may make no difference in the acquisition of evolutionarily familiar tastes, such as vocal music. In addition, Kanazawa suggests, less intelligent people may be less cognizant that people in TV and movies are not real. Since seeing realistic images of people may, for them, seem almost like being with people, they're more likely to enjoy these art forms and spend time consuming them.

Taste is a social act

Today, Giovanni Escalera is the composer and guitarist for the electronic-rock band Sweet Electra. But growing up in Guadalajara, Mexico, he was, he says, a "chubby, weird teenager." When he was 13, he undertook a transformation, turning himself into someone others would notice. He began sporting black eye makeup and a fake ear-piercing—emblems of the bands he loved—and boning up on the hottest punk, new wave, and electronic music at the local record store.

"My friends' mothers would ask me, 'Why are you wearing earrings? Those are for girls!'" he recalls. But Escalera wanted to demonstrate his allegiance to the aesthetic he identified with. By advertising his love for foreign bands whose new sound spoke to him, he hoped to convey his open-minded personality, taking a trait he was proud of and amplifying it so that it was visible to others. Steering his friends to new music they otherwise would not have been aware of reinforced his sense of being cool and ahead of the curve.

In a sense, Escalera was using his taste-hunting abilities to forge an identity. This is the inmost layer of taste formation—using our artistic choices to articulate the story of our lives for ourselves and others. Identity comprises not just the traits that describe us, but also stories about how we became that way, and how we present ourselves to others, explains Dan McAdams, a psychologist at Northwestern University. Tastes are among the primary ingredients in these personal stories. "Tastes come up in people's narratives as a way of signaling who they are," says McAdams.

Taste provides an objective, common reference point. Expressing artistic preferences allows us to signal elements of our personalities, and these cues help us manage others' impressions of us. When you meet a stranger, you don't know much about her personality, but if you both agree a certain song is sad and she then tells you she loves it, you've learned something about her. "People largely agree on the emotional qualities of taste objects," explains Rentfrow.

Deciphering the taste code

If our taste preferences reflect our personalities, does this mean we can accurately judge others based on their tastes? We all form impressions based on people's artistic choices, confident that we can judge their personalities based on the things they love. But decoding people based on taste is not an exact science.

Personality types are not mutually exclusive—most of us are a complex combination of many traits. An open-minded taste hunter, for instance, may also have an extrovert's need to seek sensation. No one trait wholly determines our tastes—various overlapping personality traits each exert an influence, as do cognitive abilities like language mastery and overall intelligence. Combined with experiences and exposure, the result is the infinite variety of preferences we see.
We make judgments about others' tastes based on stereotypes, explains Gosling; we assume fans of mainstream popular artists are uncreative and conventional, for instance, or that fans of energetic vocal music are gregarious and sociable.

Some stereotypes are correct. When Gosling asks his students to list their top 10 favorite songs, other students are able to match lists to students with impressive accuracy. Rock fans truly are less friendly, conservative, and religious, and more artistic and anxious than fans of religious music. We assume classical music fans are friendly, conscientious, and emotionally stable—and for the most part, we're right.

People judging others based on Facebook profiles, which typically include catalogues of favorite books, music, and movies—are able to accurately predict openness and extroversion, but not emotional stability, Gosling has found. And our stereotypes about fans of heavy metal, electronic, pop, rap, and soul are considerably less accurate, perhaps because inaccurate racial assumptions cloud our judgment.

Another reason our judgments falter is that we focus on the wrong cues. We wrongly assume, for instance, that people with highly decorated and cluttered rooms are more extroverted. We also assume such people are more open—when really we should be looking for variety in books and music, for books on art and poetry, and for art supplies. We assume that rooms with stale air belong to emotionally unstable people—when really we should be scanning for inspirational posters.

In the end, then, perhaps we should view the differences in tastes between us and others not as grounds for disagreement, but as opportunities for interpersonal revelation. Perhaps the Romans were right when they proclaimed, "De gustibus non est disputandum." About matters of taste, there can be no argument.

The Gut

I hate the gut instincts I get from time to time, because they are never good. I used to try and fight them, telling myself that I am way off base. But I have learned that are right 99% of the time.

It's like my own personal lie detector, but it's more than that. It is this weird primal deductive solution maker. It is like a Stomock Holmes. And it's never a positive thing, which sucks even worse.

I always try and tell myself that this time will be the 1% that it is wrong. Here's hoping.

Zombie Jokes

In honor of the upcoming holiday, I thought I would give you some great Zombie jokes to take to your Halloween parties.

What does a Zombie use to travel long distances quickly?
PPPPPLLLLLLAAAAAANNNNNNNEEEEEESSSSSS

What kind of headache does a Zombie get?
MiGGGGGGRRRRRRAAAAAAIIIINNNNNEEEEESSSSSS

What do you call a bunch of Zombies from Denmark?
DDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNEEEEEEESSSSSSSS

What does a Zombie do if he is stuck in a social situation where he has to appear interested in what is going on?
FFFFFEEEEEIIIIIIGGGGGNNNNNNSSSSSSS

How does a Zombie cowboy control his horse?
RRRRRREEEEEIIIINNNNNSSSSS

Why won't a Zombie in a white suit eat a human?
SSSSTTTTTAAAAAIIIIINNNNNSSSSSS

What's a Zombie's favorite part of a song?
ReFFFFRRRRAAAAIIIINNNNNSSSSS

What is a Zombie's drug of choice?
CoCCCCCAAAAAIIIIINNNNNNEEEEEEE

Why are there no bald Zombies?
RoGGGGGGGAAAAAAIIIIIINNNNNNEEEEEE

What does a Zombie use to barbeque?
ProPPPPPAAAAAANNNNNNEEEEEE

How does a Zombie like his bagel?
PPPPLLLLLAAAAAAAIIIIIINNNNNN

What does a Zombie plumber work on?
DDDDRRRRRRAAAAAAIIIIIIINNNNNNNSSSSSSSS

What are Zombie athletes most afraid of?
SSSSSPPPPPRRRRRRAAAAAAIIIIINNNNNSSSSS

Overhead in a Zombie picket line:
What do we want?
BBBRRRRRRAAAAAIIIINNNNSSSSS
When do we want 'em?
BBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAIIINNNNNSSSSS

What do dyslexic Zombies eat?
BBBBBRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNSSSSSS

Where does the preppy undead shop?
Aberzombie & Fitch

What does a Zombie look for in his thriving stock portfolio?
GGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNSSSSSSSSS

What is a Zombie's favorite state?
MMMMAAAAAIIIIINNNNNEEEEEEE

Why did the Zombie go to the hospital?
PPPPPAAAAAIIIIINNNNNNSSSSSS

What is a Zombie's favorite part of a horse?
MMMMAAAAAANNNNNNEEEEEESS

Zombie Carly Simon says "You're so -?"
VVVVVVVAAAAAIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN

More to come. Feel free to add some of your own.

New Experiment

I have been thinking about friends and loved ones in my life, and how I tend to disappear for lengths of time. It can take me weeks or months to respond to emails or phonecalls.

So for the next 30 days, I am going to attempt to immediately answer, within reason, any and all contact made to me. AND Each day I will seek out someone who I knew and have lost contact with and reach out to them and reconnect.

I will keep you posted as to how it all goes down.

Thought of the day

Can you have a best friend that is not your best friend? That is, can I consider you MY best friend, while you do not consider me YOUR best friend?

New Word and Definition

Conversation Cocktease - Noun

A person who starts a conversation with you, gets you really into it with their perspective, and then has to take another call or has to speak with this other person right away, so you don't get to respond, and have to sit there, audibly blueballed.

New Taiwanese Restaurant Name

Taipei Personality

Last Meals

I was reading through some lists of Famous Last Meals, and it got me thinking. What would I want as my last meal? So many choices. Do you request some strange meal made up of great foods from your life, or do you take something simple. I think mine would be simple at this point, but who knows, maybe I'll make it more complex.

My Last Meal

Beer Battered Shrimp Burrito with Chipotle Aioli from The Creek
A rasher of Duck Bacon
6 pints of Magic Hat #9 from the tap, not the bottle, also from The Creek
Banana Milkshake from Checkers, extra Banana sauce.
A viewing of the movie, "What Dreams May Come"

What about you, what would your last meal be?

Sight Seeing

If you had a limited amount of days left to be able to see, where would you go? What would you want to see? What would you want to see again?

I've been thinking about this more over the last couple days. I tend to have what I call "Bad Eye Days," where something seems to be wrong with my eyes, more so than usual, for me at least. It manifests itself in different ways; some days my eyes feel cloudy, like when you first wake and wipe the sleep from your eyes. Other days, I just feel extreme strain and sensitive to light. And other times, my eye will just keep watering all day.

All this makes me think about what may eventually happen to me. I am not scared of losing my sight. And I am not scared, necessarily, of the things I have never seen, and will have to go the rest of my life without seeing. I have seen beauty in the world, and it sits in my heart and my memory. I don't have a list of things that I want to see before my eyes die, like an Ocular Bucket List. I don't feel the need to spend all of the money I have (and don't have) travelling the world, seeing all the wonders. I think that my imagination can fulfill that for me.

But there is one place, that if I knew that I was going to lose my sight, that I would make damn sure I saw again. I have been there twice before, and to me, it is the most beautiful, serene, spiritual, awe-inspiring place: Ka Ena Point on the North Shore of Oahu. It is where Heaven meets Earth, where land meets sea, where my known world ends and the unknown world begins. When you walk to the edge of the rocks, overlooking the ocean, all you sea around you is the water and sky, as if you were an island of yourself. All the cares of "landed life" can be temporarily washed away from you as you listen to the waves crash against the rocks and reef, as if the waves themselves were the Earth's heartbeat, calming you, as a baby resting on its mother's chest. I could spend hours out there, just listening to nothing, and everything, and thinking about why I am here.

That is where, if I have to, I want to spend my last hours, minutes, seconds of sighted life, taking in the majesty of G-d's creation, and knowing that even though part of my life will be ending, a new part will just be beginning.

Remember the commercial with the Pasta Trees?

My coworker and I were talking about noodles, and she told me that she saw a special on Barilla pasta, in which they went to the factory in Italy to see it get made.

I imagined a hollow warehouse, with low hanging lights, with those dog-cone style lightshades, swinging in the hot breeze coming from the massive ingredient mixers, full of hundreds of modified sewing machines, with elderly Italian women hunched over each one, their feet constantly pedaling to keep the pasta flowing through, spinning spaghetti and singing old Italian pasta making songs, while a Foreman approached each one, and in a voice that carried both concern and condemnation, inspired them to continue with, “Spaghet like the wind!”

I nearly peed myself.

Bad Day

A chronicling of a crap day.

- Woke up from a weird dream, leaving me in a funk. Something about buying a house and then forgetting I owned it until it is sold to someone else.
- Dumped a cup full of ice all over the kitchen.
- Called my brother to talk about serious issue and he's too busy playing a video game
- Walked right into a wall and gave myself a really nice lump on the head.
- Grocery store didn't have what I was looking for.
- Kitchen store didn't have what I was looking for.
- Nearly hit a guy in my car as I was making a turn.
- Dryer I was doing laundry in broke down partway through the cycle, so I have soggy clothes.

But I did watch a fun movie, AND we have a new president (officially). So that ties up the end in a nice, little bow.

10th Anniversary

You know how sometimes you get in a particular mood and you don't know why exactly you feel that way? I have had this kind of thing happen before, and it happened again today. When I thought about it a little, I realised that today is the tenth anniversary of my divorce. OH YEAH, I SAID IT! DIVORCE!!

I was married. I wanted the things my parents seemed to have: companionship, a best friend and lover, someone to celebrate the ups and downs of life with. That is not to be, at least right now.

I got married to a beautiful woman (inside and out), and I thought, "This is it. I have found the one that I will spend the rest of my life with." Apparently, the rest of my life equaled out to a little less than three years. The divorce papers (filed by her, not me) say that the marriage was "irretrievably broken." I was never sure of what that meant, because I thought, and still do think, that if you really want to make something work, you will do just that. You fight for what you truly believe in.

Granted there were problems, youth probably being the biggest of them. As young adults, we (general we) think we are not going to mature any more than we have. I am today what I will be in ten, twenty, or fifty years. But life has a funny way of showing us different. I have seen that first hand, on both sides. When I see my friends, who are younger, and seemingly going through similar situations that I went through, I try to lend my opinion and help, so that there journey will be less rocky. Almost inevitably, the people I try to help reject my help, as I did when I was in the situation. Only in retrospect can I see what my friends then were trying to do, and I appreciate them more for it.

All of this hurt so much, and I still carry the scars from it. But it has never kept me from jumping back in all over again and giving it my all.

I have never regretted the decisions I have made in life, because everything you do in life are bricks in the road leading you to where you are supposed to be. Do I wish I could go back and not do this? No, because if I hadn't had this event in my life, I wouldn't be sitting here writing this.
Have I spoken to her since the divorce? Twice, I think, once on purpose and once on accident.
Would I speak to her again? Yes, if only to see if she is happy in her life and feels as fulfilled as I do with where I am today.
Have I tried to contact her? No. Simply because she may not want to hear from me, and who am I to force my way back into her life, if ever so brief, if she is happy without knowing anything about what happened to me after?
Do I hope she'll read this? Sure, why not. I don't think I have said anything false in this post.
Will I be sad if I never talk to her? Maybe slightly, but that is just natural to feel that from someone who was your everything for however long you had them in your life.

If I am never to talk to her again, this can be my last conversation with her.

Belle*, if you read this, I hope you are happy in life. And I hope, that if you think of me, you spend more time on the happy times than sad.

Sincerely, Gaston*.

*Nicknames provided to protect the innocent. But, of course, if you are reading this blog, you can find out who Gaston is by looking at the blogger's profile. D'oh!

Charleston Comedy Festival

That is where I have been for the last three days.

I didn't write over those three days. I wanted to, but the Holiday Inn we stayed at only had two complimentary computers for all the guests. And I didn't want to be "that guy." And besides, we already had "that girl" there. Several hours looking at Wedding photos on Facebook. Seriously. Who does that? That can't wait until you get home? Oh, wait, maybe she's homeless. But then she wouldn't have a Facebook account.

But anyway, I was torn because of the promise I made myself to do this experiment. I have to think of a way to make it up to myself. Suggestions?

T Minus 7 Hours

Horse & House is making a trip down to Charleston, SC for the Charleston Comedy Festival.

It's gonna be AWESOME! 9 hours in a car with my troupe mates.

YEEHAA!

Play is important

I just got home from my day.

Tonight was the first night in about two months were I have been able to "play." I had my first rehearsal back with one of the groups I do Improv with. And it was a blast.

You forget the fun you have with people you really care about until you have been out of the loop for a while.

It's good to be able to play again.

Take-away from tonight - find you inner child and let them roam free.

The Life After Life

There’s not much that really freaks me out, at least consistently, but I have one thing that sometimes sneaks up on me and really does a number on me.

“What happens when we die?”

I will get washed over by this panic; my body will shut down for a few minutes while this thought consumes me, and makes me reel with angst. This is one of the few things that will cause me to have a panic attack. I can’t function when it hits, and I have to let it wash over me, have a mini freak-out, and then try to get back to work or play or whatever I was doing at the time. Sometimes I am around someone who I can talk about it with, but not always. It usually manifests itself in a sense of, “What happens after you die? Is there a Heaven and Hell, is there nothing? What is this life we lead all about?” I get this lead weight feeling in the pit of my stomach and I get light headed, and I start to really get scared. It comes on from nowhere, seemingly, and it becomes like a distant thought by like an hour later. But in that moment, it is overwhelming.

It’s the fear of possibly going to Hell. Or of just no longer existing. The fact that I am here, right now, composing this, and it may have an impact on someone’s life, or not, and then POOF! I am gone and it’s all over for me. How can this be? Is there more than just this life? There are so many battling opinions out there in the world that claim to be the one truth, but are they? We don’t know. The same blind faith is what makes people follow Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or even Atheism, along with all the other belief structures. As one believes in G-d to the Nth degree, another believes in Nothing to the Nth degree. And so forth. Regardless of what you believe, something happens when you die, and that something may be nothing, but whatever it is has the power to complete invade me and turn me into a sniveling 4 year old child, wanting his mommy.

I think that this “fear” has kept me from trying things in my life; all of those extreme things, and even some that aren't extreme at all. I would gravitate away from them for fear of something going wrong even though the chances were slim that anything bad would happen. But I am trying to at least face my fear more these days. Case in point, on my last trip to Hawaii, my brother and I took surfing lessons. Tod, my brother, asked me if I wanted to do it with him, because his lady didn't know how to swim. I was super psyched about it, I have never surfed, it looks like fun. But then my brother started reading that we had to sign a waiver, just in case, I started to freak a little. There was a chance that we could be attacked by a shark. Or swept out to sea, or dashed on the reef in the shallow waters. These chances were slim indeed, but I still began to think twice about whether or not I wanted to do it. It turned out to be a perfect experience, and I now have a new appreciation for surfers, and dental hygiene (most surfers are missing some teeth from taking a board to the face at one point or another).

I always feel a bit nebbish with stuff like this because everyone has done these things and very few have been hurt or killed by these things; Bungee jumping, Skydiving, etc. All of these things are fairly safe, in the way that life is fairly safe. You could walk out of your house and be killed by a skydiver falling out of the sky just as easily as you could plummet to your death while skydiving. But still, this thing keeps happening to me and every time it freaks me out as strong as the previous time.

I wish I knew where this thought came from. But I guess that is like trying to figure out the meaning of life. You won’t ever know that answer until you are at the point where you can be let in on the secret, because you definitely won’t be sharing it with anybody.

Top of the bottom of the barrel

I was taking my usual daily walk to the Safeway near my office with my coworker today, and we started to talk about engagement rings (He started it not me). He confided in me that he had X amount socked away for a ring, like a little trust fund. When he told me the amount, I was taken aback, because I had spent less than that on my last engagement ring (yes, there have been multiple rings in my life, what can I say? I am a hopeful romantic). He then told me that he was only a quarter of the way to the price amount for the ring he wanted. That blew my mind! I had to remind myself of what he does for a living and how much he makes, or will be making. That was when I realized just where I stood in the scheme of things. The last time I told someone how much I spent on the ring I got, the person I told had the same reaction that I had to my coworker's announcement.

I am not sure if I take this whole thing as a plus or a minus to me. I am somewhere between the top of a small barrel or the bottom of a big one. And if I am there, do I have to make a choice as to which barrel I want to stay in? Or can I maintain this razor's edge, tightrope walk for a while?

When we had finished the conversation, he asked me if he should reconsider his "dream ring." I told him to give all he has to offer to his love. Love hard! Love big or go home! All of those cliched phrases with love replacing certain words to make them apropos to the moment. In the end, you have to love this person like there is no one else for you. And if it doesn't work out, get the ring back, because you can probably buy yourself a nice car for that amount.

Weekends are tough

I found it is hard to write about stuff when you don't do anything all weekend. I was supposed to go into work today, but I helped my friend Mark with a video project he is working on and by the time we got finished it was 7 pm, and no time to go to the office.

Ugh.

I need cooler stuff

I just finished a marathon of video game playing with my buddies, Jon Lee and Erik. What a great way to spend a rainy Saturday! XBOX 360 and Playstation 3. Some really fun and addictive games: Dead Space, Little Big World, and Portal. I spent the last 6 hours of the day playing all the way through Portal. A fun game that we all helped beat. Thanks, you guys!

I can upload videos of myself?!?!?!

F U AT&T

Eternal Kodachrome

I’m going to try something new today; writing before 11:30 pm.

I have had a few thoughts today that I thought I would munch on.

First was a comment that my coworker said to me while we were discussing James Earl Jones and his 2008 Lifetime Achievement Award winning, as chronicled in the Screen Actor Magazine. In the article, there are many pictures of Ole’ Low-Voice himself from his many films, etc. I made the comment that he looked a lot darker when he was younger compared to now. My coworker said (jokingly) that he was fading as he was getting older. I found that thought funny and poignant. At first I thought of it as the curse that you get for not wrinkling. You see, my mom is of the thought that African American men and women don’t get wrinkles as they get older, but us white folk do. So when my coworker said what she said, my immediate response (thought) was, “That’s for not wrinkling.”

But as I thought more on the subject, I came to think that it might be more a fact. And again, as I work, I don’t research anything, I just like to make my own assumptions. But it actually made sense to me that he would fade, not like a picture though, but purely based on science. Our bodies are limited production houses. We have only so many heartbeats, so many strands of hair, so many eggs and sperm, so why not consider that we have only so much melatonin? As JEJ gets older, his body produces less melatonin, which would make his skin lighter in appearance. This could be a scientific fact, but like I said, I am not going to risk actually finding out the truth.

Then I started to think of people as a picture or a newspaper; as they get older they begin to break down, and fade. Leave a soda can out in the sun and all the color will be removed from it. So as we get older we become harder to see. (Ha, an eyesight joke! Works on two levels, three if you know me well enough!) And the fading made me think about how we as a society have pushed our elders away, putting them in homes, and assisted living communities, etc, essentially fading them from our own lives, because for whatever reason, we can’t be bothered to take care of “our own messes.” Better to pass the buck, literally, and pay some stranger to take care of our parents so we don’t have to think about them. I can understand why people would do that, but at the same time, we need to honor our parents, IF they deserve that honor. Now, I have some very good friends whose parents I think should definitely be put in a home, so that my friends would never have to think about them again, but far too many people use these assisted living places as an excuse to just abandon their parents.

And who can blame them though? We live in a disposable society, where children are dropped off by their parents at day care centers, and where they spend half of there awake day with a “foster” parent, not necessarily learning anything, just remaining alive. And even when the parents have a day off, they still drop their kids off at the day care center, so they can spend a day without them. Why should it be any different when our parents and grandparents enter their “second childhood?”

All I know is that I have made up my mind and made this known to my parents, that when they get to the point where they can not live on their own any longer, they will come and live with me (and my family, if I ever have one). I refuse to let them fade out of the picture.

So Tired

I've been having trouble sleeping the last few nights. Part of it, I think has to do with the post-apocalyptic TV shows I have been watching. Whenever my alarm goes off in the morning, I think of it as some early warning system, or that it can't be real, because we don't have technology, and then I keep oversleeping. Meh. Must realize it's all in my head.

Oh yeah, and I put together a shelf unit I bought from Target, so tiny, but I guess it serves its purpose.

Time for sleepy.

Magellan

My brother is currently travelling across the lower United States from Los Angeles, CA to Augusta, GA. He Left on Saturday and is currently in Houston, TX. He and I had been talking about this trip for a while now.

Originally, I was going to fly out to LA and we were gonna drive cross country together. A kind of brother bonding bit. Unfortunately I was not able to work out the details - work issues prevented me from being able to do it. But there was one phone conversation he and I had right around Christmas, when he was getting really fed up with the situations at his house and in his life.

You see, my brother and I are what people call "Nice Guys." We are the guys that are the shoulder that is cried on when a person is hurting. The back that holds up the weight of someone else's problems. And in doing so, we often times are walked over, and mistreated, by the same people that we are trying to save from pain. And he and I often have to be sounding boards for each other so that we keep from saying all the hurtful things we sometimes think and feel. We joke about what we should say to a person, knowing full well that we would never actually say those things. It just helps us to deal, like writing that letter to the person and then never sending it, just to get the emotion off your chest. I think that because we have to keep so much in ourselves, that it can create outrageous ideas and impulses.

When my brother was talking to me about how the pressures at and around where he was living were getting to him, I suggested that he just get in his car and drive across the country to GA and surprise our folks on Christmas or at least Christmas weekend. Naturally, he was hesitant to do that. My argument to him was this - you are already traveling across the country, no matter what, that much is certain. But how many people can say that they packed up everything they wanted to keep in their lives, hopped in their car/truck, and made that trip by themselves? Just you against the road.

Granted, a lot of people, back in the day can stake that claim, but today? Not many people would attempt that, not even small trips. People think that they need safety nets and bumper guards. But I bet, if you tried to drive across the country, on your own, and something did happen, you'd find that deep down in the heart of it, all people are helpful. My brother's argument was that he was unsure of whether or not his truck could make it. My counter was that if it didn't make it, I'd bet that there would be someplace near where it died that he could pick up a rental truck and swap out his stuff, and scrap the truck and keep on truckin'.

That is what I would do. That is what I want to do. When I moved to Maryland back in 2001. My parents and I drove all the way across the southern US, and up the east coast, my mom and dad in my mom's Volvo, and me in my dad's truck, the very same truck that my brother is taken across that same stretch of road. And as we were making that trip, I made a mental plan that I would circumnavigate the contiguous US one day, maybe not all in one go, but I would definitely be able to say that I have driven through all of the perimeter states. I will make that happen. And although it is always more fun to have someone there with to explore and have fun, when the time comes for me to make this trip, whether or not I have someone to go with, I will make this dream a reality.

A Silent Office

I went into work for a few hours today to work on my special extra project. I love going into the office on the weekend because I get to play my music as loud as I want to, and sing along at the top of my lungs when the mood strikes, which is pretty often.

Pandora has been great to me because it has introduced me to music I probably would have never heard otherwise. It's weird to think about how you have lived without something in your life, after you have introduced to it. Whether it is Internet, or cell phones, or morals, or Hershey's Kisses. But at the same time, as my mom would say, all things in moderation, and I have found that though I avail myself to things when they are close to me, I can certainly live without them, or at least go long periods of time without them in my life.

On cell phones, think about this. Think back to before you had a cell phone, can you remember your home phone number at your house? I can 703-369-8993. That was the phone in my house in Virginia, when I graduated from High School. I still remember it to this day. But thanks to cell phones, I have no idea what my parents' phone numbers are, other than they start with 808. Funny how technology has just made us lazier, and yet we are (I am not) ready to give up on the comfort of owning a cell phone.

Wall-E really shined a light for where we as a people are headed.

The Day After

I always find that on the day after I have been a complete sloth, I am usually pretty darn productive. Today was no exception. Laundry - check, Storage Shelves bought - check, new movies added to my ever growing collection - check.

As I went through my day today, I was beginning to get concerned that I might end up with a similar entry to last night; nothing really to say, but the need to do this as part of my experiment. But, as the fates would have it, something fell right into my lap.

I ended up in the Wheaton area because the Peeve needed to go to the HMart, which is like an Asian Super Walmart. It's a pretty cool place, lots of free samples of small, crunchy, spicy things - mostly fish, but tonight I wasn't feeling it. As we pulled into the parking lot, I remembered that there was a Hollywood Video in that same strip. And after having experienced the joy of my old Hollywood haunt while visiting the parents for Christmas, AND discovering that HV was having a buy two, get two free sale, I figured I could poke around for a while and see if I HAVE to pick up some more DVDs.

Now, it's not how you think. People think that I just buy movies no matter what, but that is not true, especially as I have gotten older. I have become more picky in what I buy for myself. There have been plenty of occasions
in the last three years or so, that I have walked into a store and picked out a handful of movies, only to return them to the shelves and walk out with nothing, thinking that there are more important things that I should be spending my money on, like Diet Soda.

I had this high expectation for this store before I entered, based on my experience back in GA, and I was sorely disappointed in this place. Granted, their selection of Previously Viewed DVDs was pretty good, all in all, it was the store, the presentation, and the customer service that left much to be desired.

I walked through the many shelves of Previously Viewed DVDs, looking for those movies that I just couldn't live without, sometimes based on the film itself, but many times it's the price, and it's always based on the fact that I had seen it before. I don't buy movies that I haven't watched before; this is what separates me from the rest of the animals. I ended up with many DVDs, and ended up putting about a third of them back. It is always based on the sale. In the end, I ended up with 6 DVDs, that were part of a "50% off all DVDs Marked $9.99 or Lower," making them all each under $5.00 at least, so I had to buy them. That's a rule.

And this is where the experience turned ugly. I stood waiting to get served for a few minutes while the two, and then three, staff members talked among themselves about this and that. I tried to endear myself on them by helping answer another guest's query about a specific Charlize Theron movie, which ended up being "Aeon Flux." I got checked out and I was signing my receipt, and I noticed that one of the movies was not marked 50% off, and was in fact priced incorrectly at $12.99, when the sticker said $9.99.

I pointed out the error to the cashier, and he said that the sticker was incorrect, I excused myself and went and grabbed the other DVDs of the same movie to verify to them that they were all priced the same and should be a part of the deal. (You see, I always look at the price tag on almost every copy of a movie to see if one is marked cheaper than the others, hey every penny counts) My cashier couldn't make the refund, so I was shuffled off to the manager, which is totally understandable. But the manager, who happened to be the Store Director, end of the line as far as the store goes, spent the next 24 minutes (I have the two receipts showing that time difference) trying to figure out how to fix the issue, apparently having to void out multiple attempts to figure out why these one DVD was priced incorrectly, or how to make the exchange and refund me back the difference. At a certain point, I was sure that he was stalling to get me to just say, "Fine, whatever, just give me the movie." But I had nothing else really planned for the night, and I wanted to get the movie for $5.00.

Now, I used to manage a Hollywood Video, granted that was a little over four years ago, but the computers system didn't appear to have changed much; they're still using dot matrix printers for their receipts. I tried to explain to this guy that all he needed to do was a refund of the original price and then sell it back to me at the $5.00 price, either by manually changing the price to $9.99 and using the 50% off coupon, or just manually pricing the DVD to $5.00, but I didn't want to just say to him that I used to run a store, and all that.

After the 24 minutes of him clicking and clicking on the computer, he took my credit card and swiped it and refunded me $8.47. And when I looked at the receipt, it was exactly how I said it should have been done. But why had it taken him 24 minutes to do that? On a Saturday night? These guys aren't pulling in much business if our transaction was allowed to take up that much time.

In the end, I got my movies, at the price I wanted to pay, but I think a piece of my heart died. It's hard to see something you dedicated 7 years of your life to, fall into the hands of incompetents.

A Day is a Terrible Thing to Waste

We make plans for ourselves, every day, or just in life, and then we sometimes sit and watch them go by from the sidelines, or from your sweet Lazyboy recliner.

I was supposed to do the massive amounts of laundry today, but I just sat on my butt and finished watching Jeremiah on Netflix. It didn't help that I was feeling a little ill, but that is no excuse. I feel so unproductive. Meh.

At least I wrote today. Day 2 down.

The Experiment Begins

2009 is here.

A time for a clean slate. A chance for us to begin anew. To start fresh. Pure and virginal (pronounce that vir-jy-null).

I made a promise to myself as 2008 came to a close; That I would start something and see it to it's end. I have made up my mind to write every day for the entire month of January. To see if I could do it. It will be a stream of consciousness writing experiment, with only going back through to correct spelling errors. I will write for as long as it takes to finish whatever thought is in my head when I sit down to write. So here we go.

I love movies. Anyone who knows me knows that about me. I decided as a great way to start the new year, I would recap my 2008 in movies. I went through my Netflix queues, both online watching and the DVDs I was sent, and my Hulu account, and just see how many movies I had actually watched. OVER 300 movies and TV series. I actually had thought it would have been more, to tell the truth. But still if you calculate the average length of a movie and a TV series it will tell you, and me, where all my free time went. Let's just say, for arguments sake, that of those 300 or so, 260 where actual films and the remaining 40 were entire TV series.

260 movies at an average length of 90 minutes equals out to 23,400 minutes, or 390 hours, or 16.25 days. A little over two weeks straight of just film watching.

A TV series can range from 30 to 45 minutes long, and episodes can be anywhere from 12 to 20 per season. So let's average that out. We'll say 38 minutes per episode, for 16 episodes per season. That is 24,320 minutes. That's 405.33 hours, or 16.89 days. Another two weeks plus of TV series watching.

Basically, a month, and one with all 31 days, was spent by me, watching movies and TV shows in 2008. I don't know whether to proud or ashamed by that number. I think I'll lean towards proud, in a nerdy kind of way.

Cheers!