It's not easy being green

When I was in college, I took a class that was popularly referred to as "the drug class," "fun with drugs," or "I wonder if the professor will give us drugs today." I don't remember the actual name of the class, but memory loss in this instance is ironically hilarious – so I refuse to actually look it up. In fact, I don't remember much about the class at all - not because I was on drugs (you guys are assholes) – but because it really wasn't that interesting.

Something that I do recall, however, is the theory that people take drugs because of an inherent desire to alter consciousness. The theory suggests that humans start this altered-state experimentation at a very young age. For example, children spin in circles to make themselves dizzy in an attempt to rework their known sensory realities. The dizziness sensation allows them to experience something outside their typical existence. Interesting concept.

So, similarly, when adults desire to feel that altered state, spinning around in circles just isn't enough anymore and they turn to more sophisticated, manufactured instruments of euphoria.

What is your opinion on the topic? Do you think the theory has merit?


I remember when I was a kid...I was convinced that if I jumped at just the right angle and with just enough momentum, that I could actually fly. I am serious. I recall running around in the yard jumping all over the place. Perhaps after running around like a lunatic and hurling myself upwards, I may have caused myself to get lightheaded, thus allowing me the illusion of flight. I also thoroughly enjoyed making myself dizzy.

As I write this, I found my self wondering if I seek out mind-altering experiences any differently now that I am an adult. Will spinning until I fall down allow me the same joy at 26 as it did when I was 6? If not...will I seek other avenues to adjust my senses?

Nah.

I don't know about you guys…but all this spinning around in circles has made me very thirsty. I'm gonna go get a beer...or 12.




Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Bravoholic

I have a serious problem. I am obsessed with Bravo programming. I was addicted to Project Runway and now that the season has ended, I have adopted Top Chef as my Wednesday night "must see TV." Next to Chef Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares on BBC America, Top Chef has got to be my favorite show EVER. (Are we sensing a food trend here?)

Last night was the Top Chef season premiere. It's a bit too early for me to pick a favorite, but I think that there may be some interesting surprises this year and I am super-pumped.

One thing that may be funny (if not annoying) is contestant Andrew's uncanny similarities to McLovin from Superbad. (The link takes you to an interview on Bravo's website - but you will see what I mean if you watch the show). I will be rooting for him just so I can quote the movie every Wednesday.

Keep the following clip handy for next Wednesday (or re-runs).

Office Commandments Neurosis

This post began as "When using the office restroom, thou shalt not use an open stall next to a stall in use" - then I thought...this has got to be just me.

I have a whole set of bathroom neurosis, including (but not limited to) the fact that I cannot "perform" when surrounded. This particular issue only applies at the office, as I have no problem going to the bathroom at concerts, baseball games (Go Go White Sox) or other public functions. Hell, I drop trou and pee mid conversation with friends whilst on the phone. I pee with Matt in the same room brushing his teeth (sorry baby). It is only at work where I suddenly feel claustrophobic and get stage fright. In my world, urinal rules apply whilst at the office.

That said, I hereby present "KC's bathroom issues" in no particular order;

* I have a favorite stall at places I frequent and at work. This is typically the first stall in the row. I feel put off and more than a little annoyed when someone else occupies "my" stall.

* I spare no expense on toilet paper. Only the best for these buns. In college, I bought my own because I couldn't stand the tree bark they tried to pass off as TP.

* If, upon entering "my stall," I find that the previous occupant did not flush, I will grudgingly move onto the next stall rather than flush before use. If, in the same situation, the toilet is flushed but there are "mystery drops" on the seat, I will wipe them away with a "glove of TP" and proceed to use the stall. How does this even begin to make sense?

* I always wash my hands after using public restrooms and become agitated if I have to open the door inward to get out of the bathroom. If I just washed my hands, the last thing I want to do is touch the door handle. (I usually use a paper towel)

* I rarely wash my hands after using the toilet at home. (I do wash them before I handle food)

* Just the thought of port-a-pottys make me gag, yet I frequent outdoor concerts and festivals with alarming regularity.

* Dried up boy pee on that inner lip of the toilet is one of the nastiest things to clean. This is why I ask Matt to clean our bathroom on cleaning days. Thank God he does this without complaint.

* Similarly, Man whiskers aka beard shavings in the bathroom sink are also a point of contention. Meanwhile, I shed long hair all over the apartment like it's my job.

* Mystery moisture in restrooms is the thing of nightmares. People that put carpet in their bathrooms should be immediately institutionalized.

* Padded toilet seats terrify me, but not as much as fuzzy toilet lid carpets.

It's not easy being nuts.

Meme, youyou

I was tagged for my very first meme (I'm new to the blogosphere - what?) by Aunt Becky.

Directions: Pick up the closest book. Open the book, turn to page 123, count down to the fifth sentence on that page, and then post the next three sentences.

The book is "The Tipping Point" by Malcolm Gladwell.

But Sesame Street just somehow never took that idea and ran with it. They knew that kids did this some of the time, but they never tried to build a show around that idea. Nickelodeon did some pilot shows before Blue's Clues where kids would be explicitly asked to participate, and lo and behold, there was a lot of evidence that they would.

Now that I have typed someone else's words into this space - what am I to do? I'm not sure if what I read is supposed to have some sort of existential meaning. Perhaps I am supposed to reflect upon this passage and determine it's place in the greater scheme of things and this discuss it at length in this post. Luckily, I am just not that deep when it comes to my reading material (or life in general, really) - so you shall be spared the boredom.

I believe I am supposed to tag some more people now. I think only about 5 people read my blog, so I shall tag you all. Special taggage goes out to the Other Lovely Becky for being my only regular commenter that I don't know IRL. Yay for my virtual posse of 1. You are truly a pioneer.

Office Commandments (Part 2)

When exiting the elevator, thou shall move thou fat ass as people exit to make room for thou co-workers.

Amen.

The bonus illustrated version.......

Cast of Characters

Bubble #1: Guy that looks familiar - but I just can't place him

Bubble #2: My old boss

Bubble #3: The HR admin - she smells like cigarettes

Bubble #4: The Girl on 6 that always looks like she is going to the club instead of work

Bubble #5: The skank with the burnt popcorn yesterday

Bubble #6: Some skinny chick

Bubble #7: Me - trying to get to the 10th floor

Bubble #8: Fat Guy from the 17th floor

Bubble #9: Intern

We enter at the lobby, filling the elevator to it's 9(ish) person capacity. We smile dimly at first and then avoid eye contact at all costs.

Several riders exit at their respective floors. Notice how I get pinned in the corner (I am bubble #7 - pay attention!) between fatty #8 and Club-wear chick #4. Smokey the Admin (#3) stays put and Burnt Popcorn (#5) move forward to give Fatty a little breathing room. Meanwhile, Clubwear is texting her bff whilst I attempt to burn holes in the back of her tube top with my eyes.

At my floor, I have to physically move Clubwear out of my way as she has now answered a call on her cell and is ignoring my polite "excuse me." I am met with a dirty look as I stumble out of the elevator after tripping over Fatty's lunch bag. Burnt Popcorn says "Good Morning" as she turns toward her cube carrying a big box of Orville Redenbacher. Smokey in HR coughs and the Elevator door closes.

fin.

Office Commandments (part 1)

Thou shalt not make microwave popcorn during the hours between 8am and 6pm. He who makes popcorn in spite of the commandment shall be shunned and silently cursed by his co-workers.

He who foresaketh the aforementioned commandment and burns microwave popcorn in the office between 8am and 6pm shall be immediately shot. The assasin shall be promoted immediately.

Amen.

Rant in the name of dog

It has been a beautiful day in Chicago - probably around 50-something degrees (It has been a horrible winter so 50 feels like 80 right now). Like every other Chicagoan, I grabbed the dog and took the opportunity to go outside today - sans gloves, scarf and hat - to get some fresh air. As it was the first nice day we have had in months, I dressed Mojo in a cute (yet badass) skull and crossbones scarf. After all, special weather begs for sassy style.

We walked about a half mile up to the nearest dog park, where I was hoping to see at least a few small dogs. No such luck. I spotted a Pitbull mix, a Lab, a bulldog and a couple other larger mix breeds. I decided to be cautiously optimistic, hoping that the other dogs would be gentile. Mojo plays very well with big dogs, but in the absence of dogs his size, he will usually keep to himself. Besides, I thought, why would someone bring their dog to be off-leash in a public area if their dog is aggressive? I have always had good luck at dog parks, and did not expect today to be an exception.

We entered the park and I let Mojo off his leash. The Pit approached quickly, getting a running start to jump up at my chest - splattering the entire front of my jacket, pants, shirt and hair with mud. I yelled at the dog to "Get Down!" but the dog had other ideas. It jumped up at me again - and then went after Mojo - knocking him down and rolling him over...in the mud. Meanwhile, the Pit's owners sat chatting, either oblivious or perhaps unwilling to accept responsibility for their dog's behavior.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't wearing my Sunday best or anything. In fact, I fully expect to get a few paw prints on my clothes at the dog park. It happens. I'm cool with it. It does, however, piss me off that the owners didn't even try to get their dog to play nice. Nor did they apologize for the result of their negligence. Fucktards.

Not to be defeated, I shoved the dog away and led Mojo over to a quiet area where he could sniff around by himself. Meanwhile, the Pit picked a fight with the Lab. When the Lab's owner could no longer control the aggression against his dog, he left the park and the Pit set it's sights on Mojo. Again. I ended up having to carry my muddy dog out of the park as the Pit jumped up at me - desperate to catch a taste of my little pup. The Pit's owner lit a cigarette.

The situation pissed me off for two reasons;

1. These type of dog owners are the reason Pits get a bad rep. Pits can be amazing dogs, when owners take the time to be owners. These are the same type of people that raise asshole children - the kind that run screaming through restaurants and grocery stores. It's just too bad that children are not held to the same legal standard as dogs - quarantined or put to sleep for biting and other undesirable behavior. I kid, I kid.

2. My little dog should be able to play in public dog parks without worry of decapitation. Sure, little dogs can be assholes too, but if a maltese bites my pug, Mojo can shake it off and live to pee another day. Now if it's a German Shephard that decides to play a little rough - that owner is going to feel pretty bad when Fido maims or kills someone else's furry friend.

So what is the solution? Personally, I think that public dog parks should be sectioned off into a main run and a smaller section for little dogs (under 35 lbs). It would be like the kiddie pool at a park district. The little dogs could still hang in the main area, but there would be a safer option for the little guys to excersize and play. As far as I know, there is nothing like this in the City of Chicago. Evanston has Pooch Park (which sounds like heaven), I would even be willing to pay the fee, but the drive leaves something to be desired.

Days like this make me wish I had the $ to make my ideas come to life. I would even pay a per day entry fee for a clean place for my dog to run and play with other dogs his size. Whose to say that others wouldn't feel the same?

*And yes, I realize that this is the second post in a row about my dog. As much as I don't wanna be that guy (or girl) ...I totally am. Just to prove it - here is another picture of my dog making his sexy face at Grandma's house. You like it. Don't lie.