Should Have Been A Shrink...

I must have an understanding face.

My department happens to be populated, for the most part, by one family---a father, and two of his boys. One would think that this is a wonderful thing, allowing the father and his sons many opportunities to bond and strengthen their relationships. Unfortunately, in between the times of bonding and relationship building, there are long painful times of miscommunication, irritation, and annoyance.

Co-workers will always have issues with one another, but their issues usually originate and remain at work. What do you do when the co-worker's issues stem from prepubescent memories of emotional abuse? The phrase "he has been like this since I was born" is a bit unsettling to hear from a co-worker in reference to their boss.

And where do I find myself in all of this? In the freaking middle, that's where.

All three individuals have come by my desk today to talk about one of their co-workers (to which they are related). Each conversation followed the identical format. First, there is the "startling" revelation about the "idiotic" co-orders conduct, followed by the usual, and somewhat clichéd complaints.

After the complaining had come to a close, I was then asked to give insight into the actions of the offending individual. And I did, much to the chagrin of the questioning party, as I was honest, and told them exactly what I thought of the whole situation. I even went as far as instructing them in what I thought they need to change in order to improve their working relationship with the "offending party."

At the end of each tête-à-tête, I wondered if I had helped, or just added to the confusion.

What I do know, is that they all chose to come to me for a bit of advice and a lot of venting, and that just makes me wonder if I missed my calling.

Couches are so much more comfortable than office chairs, and Psychiatrists make so much more than Office Managers...

Lifting Can Be A Blow To One's Pride...

Last night I decided to go to the gym and lift.

At present, I have found lifting to be an extremely good stress reliever. Some people smoke, I lift.

So there I was lifting away, felling the burn, when I look over to my right and I noticed this skinny old guy perusing the free-weight selection. Not thinking much of it, I politely started minding my own business by staring at myself in the huge mirror.

Have you ever watched someone lifting weights while staring at themselves in the mirror? It's almost like they think they can will their muscles to increase in size by staring at them intently.

So while I was willing my muscles to grow, the skinny old guy was sitting down next to me with his weight selection. Now visualize this---me, with my dumbbells in hand, straining and puffing, and him, with his huge dumbbells, pumping them like they were cans of tuna.

"Deflated" does not even come close to describe the feeling that overwhelmed me at that moment.

The "A" Word...

Today I stopped by an auto parts store on the way home from work to pick up some oil for my car. While walking out to my car, I caught a glimpse of myself in the store window and the image caused a thought to surface in my mind.

"When did I become an adult?"

There I was, the weary laborer, coming home late from work and stopping by the auto parts store to re-supply my stockpile of motor oil. At that moment I felt like a responsible, conscientious individual. What the heck happened? One minute I'm free as a bird, traveling the world, poor as a church mouse, and then WHAM! I'm working 8 to 5 for the man, and have a savings account.

What's next? A wife and kids?

All of this went through my mind as I was walking out to the car, and believe me, I was bumming.

Then I spotted my computer in the back seat---the computer I would be using at a LAN party---a LAN party I would be attending on a Tuesday night---a Tuesday night, which just happens to be a work night.

"What an extremely irresponsible thing to do" I thought to myself, as the traces of a wicked little grin began dancing at the edges of my mouth.

Suck on that adulthood.

The Shoe Guy...

While at college, I was riding in an elevator with a group of unknown females when I noticed that one of the girl had one a pair of oddly attractive shoes. Wanting to encourage such behavior, I proceeded to complement her excellent taste in shoes (something that was quite rare in that particular school---those having visited the school can attest to the veracity of my claim). Upon hearing my innocent compliment, the girl's eyes widened to saucer proportions, causing me to think I had offended her in some way. She then proceed to exclaim "So YOU'RE the shoe guy!"

It was at this point that I reevaluated my policy of complementing girls on their shoe selections.

Seriously, doesn't a moniker like "The Shoe Guy" make one surmise that the bearer of such a title has some kind of weird shoe fetish?

Not really the best of reputations.

My conclusion is thus:

Only compliment a girl on her shoes if she knows you well enough to receive the compliment in the spirit in which it was given---not someone who would then go around spreading the rumor that you make a habit of sneaking into girl's closets to try on their shoes.

Or just don't go to lame colleges.

The Elusive Song Obsession...

This is how it works:

I hear a song on the radio, on a movie or TV show, walking in the mall or in a store, and either it strikes a chord with me, or maybe it brings back pleasant memories of days long past...

After having this emotional connection with the song, I focus on the lyrics and musical style, taking an auditory snapshot so that I will remember what to search for when I get to a computer. Believe me when I say this is not just a casual practice, but a serious undertaking bordering on obsession. I must find that song at all costs.

Step 1:

Google the lyrics

Step 2:

Search iTunes for Artist and Song

Step 3 (if step 2 is unsuccessful):

Search amazon.com for CD


As of yet, I have never failed to find a song, no matter how elusive or obscure.

God bless the internet.

The evils of all you can eat buffets...

In the interest of forging a bond of brotherhood with my co-workers, I have been taking my meals with them at various dining establishments of their choosing. Now, when one works in a manufacturing shop all day, with minimal financial benefits, that individual is given few options when it comes to choosing a place to eat. All you can eat buffets offer a large amount of generic food, for a relatively low price, making them the ideal place for my co-workers to eat.

So I was sitting at one of these fine establishments when I had an epiphany. You see, I was watching this fairly large couple (weighing an easy 500 pounds combined) as they approached buffet line. At first glance they appeared normal, boring in fact, but on closer inspection, I could see the distinct glint of lust it both of their eyes. The crazy thing was that they were not looking at an attractive woman/man, they were looking at the food!

I could almost hear their thoughts:


Large Man: "Boy, I wonder how much of this food I can eat before I explode"

Large Woman: "I wonder if anyone will notice if I eat more food than 10 full-grown men"


The couple then proceeded to load up their small plates as quickly as possible, giving the impression that they though the food would disappear at any second. The sad thing is, this "food lust" that one sees at all you can eat buffets does not just pertain to people with evident eating disorders, it affects almost every person that walks through the door.

My epiphany:

I realized that all you can eat buffets are indeed evil, causing even the strongest to stumble, and should be destroyed for the pain and suffering they have caused (not to mention the fact that the food tastes like crap).

The Beginning...

So I was talking to myself today (a practice that is becoming alarmingly commonplace). As the conversation progressed, I realized that the topic of this very odd internal communication was taking an alarming twist.

You see, I started out the conversation with the usual crap about the weather, followed by the fairly normal conversational topic regarding the lack of quality dining establishments in small towns. It is at this point that the conversation went off the reservation and entered abnormalville.

And so, in the interest of quelling future inner monologues with myself, I have decided to join the wonderful world of blogging. Joining the ranks of venerable and world famous bloggers like the ingenious group of individuals behind the west virginia lovin' blog, as well as a multitude of other highly intelligent life forms.