Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Friday, October 03, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
It's more like a sickness, if you get right down to it. I have some strain of OCD. I would like nothing more than to assure you, gentle reader (do people read this blog?), that it is not a severe strain but I am not so certain. I suppose I do not suffer from "full blown OCD" in the classical sense. You are not likely to find me straightening pictures in a hotel lobby. I'm not prone to fits of alphabetizing and color-sorting sugar packets at the local IHOP (my daughter is in charge of those.) However I do get a feeling of ants crawling across my brain when I see language bastardized in any way.
This affliction of mine (and do not think for a minute it is anything less) has caused a number of awkward situations to arise in both my personal and professional life. When I see a misspelling, typo, or grammatical faux pas, I am physically unable to keep quiet about it. I find myself squirming in high level management meetings, growling in movie theatres, and verbally red-lining the people closest to me. Whether it is socially acceptable or not to do so, I must point out the error(s) to anyone who will listen to me. As you might imagine, more often than not this "service" goes unappreciated. I would go so far as to say it is probably downright irritating to others. Nevertheless, even knowing this, I cannot sit comfortably in my own skin if I can't correct the mistake or at the very least grouse about it.
I had some time to reflect on this as I drove to work this morning, following a Scion with a backwards kanji 'AI' sticker on the back. Seeing it made my skin crawl. It occupied my mind the whole way to work and it collected lint in the spin-dry cycle of my mind throughout the day. I know it's neurotic, but I thought perhaps by sharing my irrational state of mind with the world I might know some relief. Now that I'm done, all I feel is ridiculous. :)
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Kevin, Jeff, Henry, and Garess
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Friday, October 19, 2007
Happy Evaluate Your Life Day!
All right, I can do this. I'm in my mid-thirties, I have a wonderful family. I have an amazing wife and a loveable daughter. I enjoy my job and the people I work with. I see my friends mostly while playing Warcraft these days. My dad's doing well as a teacher and has a good homelife and that's important to me. My brother is an overqualified, underappreciated store manager. I'd be exponentially happier if he'd move closer and hang out with me more. I'm expecting to start my parenting skills anew with rugrat-to-be in April. My health isn't the best, but I'm maintaining better than I have in years gone by. I'm actively working to reduce my environmental impact on the planet and I still haven't beaten Halo 3. I'm pretty happy with how things are going. Things ahead of me:
· be a good husband, father, brother, son, nephew, friend, business partner
· translate more
· get master's degree
· home improvement
· write a book
· drink a beer with LaDainian Tomlinson
· draw a comic
· get an epic flying mount (HA!)
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Happy Shave Your Beard Day!
I like to believe I'm a fairly intelligent and creative person.
Okay, I also like other people to believe it as well. In fact, I will admit on some level to needing others to believe it. I take obsessively take IQ tests. I pipe in (invited or otherwise) on trivial topics. I've even begun to score points vicariously through my genius daughter (*ahem* she is a prodigy.) I feed off of positive feedback in this area, to a certain degree. Insecure? When I consider my motivation as an adult for being a card-wielding member of Mensa, I confess that it is reminiscent of my childhood urge to be the first to raise my hand and smugly blurt out the answer. (Never mind the fact that other kids were never in "awe" of this behavior. More often than not, it inspired revulsion, not respect. After all, until you use your brain to win the jackpot on Jeopardy, no one likes a know-it-all.)
There. I came out and said it. That's my big character flaw. Well, maybe not THE character flaw. I know I have plenty more. I just don't feel like sharing those with you today. :)
Anyway, the reason I launched into this rant about my constant need for validation was to write about a particularly ridiculous example from my childhood. I can't be sure how old I was at the time, but I'm pretty sure it was around 5th grade. I wrote a poem on the Commodore 128. Errr... it wasn't an ode to the 128 (I wasn't that geeky), I just mean I composed it on the computer.
The poem was, no doubt, the mediocre ramblings of a pre-teen about darkness and the like. I printed it out and set it aside. When my father stumbled across it, he was curious about the content. In trying to recall the poem, I do remember it was titled, "The Void" and was fairly morose. Seeing the scene in my memory with the comprehension of a 33 year old father, I can see why he was asking. I didn't want to get into a psychoanalytical rap session with my dad so I blurted that it was for a school project and the topic was predetermined. I sincerely doubt he believed a word of it, but he let it go for the time being.
When I came home from school the next day, I returned to my poem with a marker and scribbled a sloppy A+ on the page and left it conspicuously in sight.
When my father saw it, he couldn't have possibly believed it was legitimate. In my attempts to avoid using my own handwriting for the "score", I used my left hand and wrote very slowly. The resulting A+ would have been plausible were it scribed by Stephen Hawking or my 2-year-old cousin. My dad simply smiled, rustled my hair, and said "great job, Justin!" He then stuck it on the refrigerator for my mom (and the world, it seems) to see.
Moments like these are like money in the piggy bank for fathers. The fact that my dad indulged his nihilistic and pathological boy rather than point out just how smart he was by seeing through the ruse just shows how emotionally intelligent he really could be for his loved ones.
I, on the other hand, was mortified. I exposed my darker broodings and then lied to cover them up! Now my weird visceral whinings were put on display to remind me of what I did. Who uses a computer to bare their soul to the world like that? (Pause for irony)
(I took the poem down before my mom came home.)
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Happy Presidential Joke Day!
Friday, August 10, 2007
Happy Lazy Da--*yawn*
Today is Lazy Day! In honor of the day, I wasn't going to write much, not to mention the fact that I'm in Las Vegas with my wife and we're waiting for the doors to open to see the Blue Man Group(!), but then I saw that it is also National S'mores Day.
I don't eat S'mores. I love 'em. But I don't eat 'em. Anyway, Kaylee still eats 'em and more power to you if YOU eat 'em!
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Happy Book Lover Day!
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Happy Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbor's Porch Without Him Noticing Day!
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Happy Sea Serpent Day!
Monday, August 06, 2007
Happy Wiggle Your Toes Day!
If you're a diabetic like me, I guess it's a good opportunity to be thankful if you still have toes you can wiggle.
Bah, I know how to turn even a lighthearted nonsensical day of goofy observance into a downer. I'm going to take a picture of my daughter's toes and post them on her website to lift my spirits. :)
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
[Jott from Justin Burns] This is Justin, testing out my blogging with Jott.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
What am I afraid of? Hmm... It's going to sound pompous, but hear me out. I'm most afraid of the atrophy of my grey matter. I'm not touting my own brain as the greatest natural resource available to the 21st century or anything. It's just a scary interpretation of the second law of thermodynamics.
The more I learn about the rate of degradation to the human brain through aging, the more I dread laying my head down on the pillow each night. Knowing that I will wake up each day with fewer brain cells and functional synapses is knee-knockingly terrifying.