(arc)nova

There is a good chunk of you that know what I've been up to "behind the scenes" so to speak, and that is getting a move on with one of the more ambitious parts of my list fo Golden Things.  Unless you don't consider launching your own little "empire" ambitious.  And some of you may not, I don't know.  But I WOULD like to know what you do consider ambitious, if that's the case.  Behold the second to last on my list of 26 Golden Things:

#25 (arc)nova; the launch of a brand.

Last winter, @MarkStyleMe and I decided to get together for a coffee and devise a strategy that would bring some sort of personal business into reality.  In the past we had come up with little schemes to rake in money, ranging from idiotic to borderline genius ideas.  This time it would be something a little more grounded in reality, and we did come up with a pretty great business model after a couple short hours.  We also came up with a name.

A few were tossed around, with me wanting to keep it somewhat celestial and @MarkStyleMe mostly agreeing but also wanting to play with symbols and it not just being a word.  I think we spent more time on the name than we did on the business model, because evrryone knows a shit name doesn't get you anywhere.  After looking up definitions of countless words and putting them together in random sequences, we came upon our solution.

             arc: a luminous bridge.
                  nova: a star that suddenly becomes thousands of times brighter.

Now, the original business model dealt with (arc)nova operating solely as a talent agency.  Being as we were both in dead-end jobs and looking for the next great thing... it seemed like pretty solid idea at the time.

That being said, and as happens with most things in life, it fell by the wayside and was forgotten.

Flash forward a few months.

I'd just been in a fight with one of my bests (which resulted in the end of the friendship (see August 5th blog: "and then there were 4") and wanted to prove a point to her.  And I suppose everyone else at the same time.  That point being that ANYONE could start a business, they just needed the drive to do so.  I immediately contacted @MarkStyleMe and asked if launching (arc)nova as a multimedia-type venture would be alright with him, for the time being at least.  He agreed and I began devising my plan.

First was getting a Facebook page in its name (yes, I have had the (arc)nova page since August,) and then an e-mail address and finally a twitter handle.  Cover those bases, yo!  Next was the bigger question of what the hell was I going to use it for?  I've always been handy with Photoshop... or, not always, but at least the last five or six years though it was mostly tinkering, nothing serious.  Then several years ago I started getting random requests to "fix" pictures.

Lines under eyes.  Power lines in the backgrounds of wedding pictures.  Removing scars from shingles (no shit; the bride had bad scars on her cheek and I had to fix a whole wedding's worth shots, yikes.) Turning skies brighter blue.  Replacing chunks of dirt in a grassy background with the grass instead.  "Hey, can you whiten my teeth?" "Take Uncle Carl out of this group picture, I hate him."  "This picture sucks; can you do anything for it?"

It dawned on me that for all of the requests I had been fulfilling, I could have been charging for them.  Ask anyone and they'll tell you that getting photoshop work professionally done isn't necessarily cheap.  Even some photographers will add on extra photoshopping fees as a bonus, not an inclusion of the original cost.  Sure, you'll get a decent picture, but like the guy taking your senior portraits, you have to pay for them to go the extra mile (in my case, I had a bumpy forehead back then.  He blurred my face out, lol.)  Granted, this is not all photographers, because I know a few who only give back the best work possible and I think it's very cool that they do.  They have a name to protect, right?

Now, you can talk a lot about your skills but sometimes you just need to show some proof.  I did some photoshop work for my great friends Liz and Tyler a few months back because they were displeased with the quality of their wedding pictures.  I did it for free because it was a great chance to take some fairly good pictures (camera-quality wise) and mess around with them.  My own personal cameras don't shoot in very high definition so this was a real treat for me.  The goal was to make every picture worthy of being framed, and to expand on the original vision of the photographer with a little twist of my own.

Sometimes the issue at hand was as simple as messing with exposure and contrast ratios, like the below example.  A little bit of cropping also goes a long way by getting rid of the pavement and drawing your eye a little more naturally to the center of the image.  Toss in a few filters, boost the color, and ta-da!  Original pictures are all on the left, (hopefully) obviously.

There wasn't much beautifying done in the pictures (or any at all, actually.)  I learned my lesson a long time ago that you shouldn't remove moles and freckles without the request of the person in the picture, so that was obviously not the goal.  But we all have wrinkles under our eyes, divots in our skin, discoloration in our pigment, etc., and for pictures, specifically wedding pictures, you want to look your best.  If that means digital removal of said imperfections, soooooo be it.  In the below picture, you can tell the original version on the left was a little "under the weather" looking, which is fixed pretty easily.  Then it's just a little bing-bang-boom to get those blue eyes sparkling (c:

So you may be thinking "what else is there, aside from color correction and beauty-jobs?"  Well, it starts to get a little more complicated when you replace backgrounds.  The focus of this picture being Liz and Tyler was just fine, but with a line of cars, a white truck, and then a building in between them (as well as power lines on the left, my old nemesis!) it was distracting to me.  So I took them out.

More difficult than the distant background of a blurred mostly-one-color scheme is moving on to the removal of larger objects with a bit more focus in the image.  While it's easy-ish for me to do a lot of these tricks, this one was actually a bitch.  I loved the picture but I HATED the background.  You'd think it'd be common sense to not take great pictures with cars in the background, but you'd be wrong!  It was my personal mission to clean up the plate.

And then of course, to branch away from the "Everyday" sort of work, there are always the multiples.  That particular set of photoshop skills speaks for itself (c;

The point of (arc)nova is not to take the creativity away from photographers, it isn't even to take away the fact that they took the picture.  It isn't about that in the least.  The point is to give you (the client) a product you are happy with.  There won't be any branding on the bottom of images (for now or for the foreseeable future, at least until I start taking them myself,) nor will there be required advertisement of the work performed were you to post it.  It's all a private business, especially considering some of the subject matter that I've photoshopped in the past.

You have no idea what I've seen...

I think my hope when it comes to photo manipulation within (arc)nova is that if you are unhappy with ANY picture, be it one you took yourself or one you paid to have taken, I can fix it.  I should say, actually, there is a 90% I can fix it.  Because some shit just can't be fixed, am I right?  If you have a great picture that you've always loved but there is just that ONE thing you hate about it, give (arc)nova a shout.  Truth be told, if you're paying me to do photoshop work, I'll do it without any expectations on your end.  I'd even prefer it kept somewhat quiet because the last thing I'd want is for you to go running back to your wedding photographer (who no-doubt put a lot of time and work into those pictures) and scream "LOOK at what HE did to THESE!  Look how GREAT they are NOW!"

I know that would make me feel like doo-doo, were I that position.

The other facet of this venture is the video branch, and that really speaks for itself.  I've gotten quite crafty with my video work and that's just another service I will be offering.  Not too much in the beginning (lest you have footage for me to work with right away) but down the line expect it to expand.  Wedding videos, celebration videos of whatever... who knows where it will go?  It's obviously a little self-promoting to say (arc)nova is producing the finished product of "26 Golden Things," but who would I be if I wasn't a little shamelss at tossing my name out there?  Trailer is posted yet again below, for those so-inclined, lol.

The point, by the way, behind my slogan is that this is merely the start of the business.  There are so many directions it could head and so many shapes it can take that really, right now, it is anybody's guess.  But there is something kind of exciting about that, don't you think?  (arc)nova is just a glimmer right now... maybe it'll grow into something, dare I say, luminous?  Ideally I'll go (super)nova on this thing and take over the world.  Maybe someday.

That's all for now, thanks for reading and (hopefully) coming to me with your requests at some point in time.  I love a challenge!  And take THAT #25 (arc)nova; the launch of a brand!  I wrote all about you and didn't leave my chair ONCE to do something more fun!  Ya bitch!

Ciao kids (c:

'tis the season

Well, today is December 1st and I already find myself with the burning desire to start writing again.  It's not unheard of that I would want to do this after a marathon of forcing myself to sit and pound a blog out (last night, blech,) but it is rare.  I think when I force myself to blog my natural instinct is to get up and walk around and then look at websites before I flip through magazines.  Like the child who is told he must finish his homework before he can play, the last thing I want to do is work.

Childhood never ends, people.  I've made it official!

Today I went with my parents to get our Christmas tree, the 15th year in a row that we've cut it down ourselves.  There is something fulfilling about that... I'm not sure why.  It's always a quick trip; leave the house by 9 and return before noon with less than 30 minutes being spent at the tree farm.  And though the last few years have been bare of snow (more on that later) during tree-choppin' day, I can't really complain too much.  The best part about not having the snow, aside from the obvious chill factor, is that it is usually moist air and it looks really atmospheric and cool at Harmony Hill Evergreens.

When we got home and successfully stood the tree up on the first try (why did the dreaded-ex and I always do it wrong, causing the tree to inevitably topple when we weren't home?  Must have been an omen) I marched upstairs to get to work on a list of chores I had created.  I don't know if it is a sign of me getting older and not being able to remember everything I need to do or if it is just because I have waaaaay too much commotion in my mind right now to handle the medial tasks of buying Christmas presents, organizing my desk, paying bills, etc.  I'd like to believe it is the latter but of course I could be wrong.

Having Novemeber wrap itself up is such a blessing for many reasons, chief among them that December is my absolute favorite month of the year.  This year makes it a little more special because it means I am just 31 days away from completing my list of 26 Golden Things and the resulting video.  Speaking of that video, I worked on that as well today.  Right now it clocks in at 55 minutes (yeesh,) but I still get excited everytime I watch it so I suppose that's a good sign.  I started putting the bits filmed today into sequence, and once I added music to it I got surprisingly emotional.

It shouldn't come as a surprise to any of you by now that I am a huge crybaby, mostly over things that are sentimental but also with animated movies, romantic movies, dramatic movies, superhero movies, tv shows, some commercials, sad letters... I can go on.  But today, with the music joining the December cue card and the small note "at last" scrawled across the bottom of it (see picture above) there was an odd sense of finality to it all.  Not only that I will achieve what I set out to do 334 days ago, but that it is culminating in a series of events I don't think I believed would ever arrive.

Anyway.

Now I'm searching for a venue to host the premier and I have a couple great options for that.  The goal being that for all of you that will come, you'll have a place to sit and eat/drink rather than stand and watch.  I know I personally wouldn't want to stand around for an hour watching someone else's life no matter how much I had been filmed in it.

To touch back on that snow thing... I really hope we get dumped on in the next couple weeks.  Last year we didn't have snow until January and I would just love to wrap up this most perfect of years with the most perfect of holiday nods.  A little white powder could do that, and not the cocaine kind!

Okay, back to work.  I just wanted to say hello and I love you (c:

cruisin'

Hey there, hi there, ho-ho there!  Two weeks since feverishly pounding out that last blog, and I'd say I'm right on track.  In fact I'm better than being right on track, as now that the cruise (biggest event of the year) is wrapped up, I feel like the tracks are cleared until New Years and the subsequent end of the Golden Year.  It is a grrrreat! (Tony the Tiger reference, natch) feeling.  Now, the cruise was always going to be the big conglomerate of events that would mostly wrap up the list of 26 things, as it contained six (yes, 6) things I had never done before.  Of course it had a million more things that I had never done before but I didn't want to take the cheap route and finish the list prematurely.

What the hell would I have to write about in December?

As such, I narrowed the cruise down to those six things, mainly surrounding the biggest parts, and they are as follows.  Readers behold!

#19 A Bigger Boat; embark on a cruise.
#20 Different Shores; leave the continental US.
#21 The X-Rails; off-roading in Cozumel.
#22 Up in a Canopy; zip-lining through Belize.
#23 Under the Sea; scuba-diving around Honduras.
#24 Sandbar Thrills; swimming with stingrays in Grand Cayman.

And we're off!

Day 1:
After a day of travelling across the country and then a night of relative calm in a hotel on the corner of "Desperate St." and "Slum-land Rd.," Jill and I were boarding a bus that would take us across Miami and to the port where we could embark on our cruise.  We were both filled with a fair amount of excitement but apparently not as much as the two lesbo's behind us who were CRYING when they saw the ship.  Oh shut up!  Embarkation was a slow process, having us waiting in lines and listening to instructions for about two hours before we were on board and strolling around to take in the sights.

#19 A Bigger Boat; embark on a cruise.

The Carnival Liberty was actually a really great ship and had a remodel just under a year ago, so everything on board felt new.  Being on the 8th level ("Promenade," the elevator would say every time it came to a stop,) we were one level beneath the Lido deck (to which I kept making Legally Blonde references ("Why don't you check with your cruise director on the Lido deck?"(I'll stop using parenthesis now (for a while, at least.)))  The Lido deck had a few restaurant type buffets on it, as well as a couple bars, the pools, the waterslide, giant chess boards, mini-golf, and a track.  Oh and a basketball court.  Just a few luxuries, whatevs.

That first night when we set sail, there was this big party on the Lido deck where the cruise director and his team of back-up dancers made everyone join in a dance.  Jill and I were up on a balcony, thinking we were safe from him calling us out, but noooooooo; I was wearing a BRIGHT red shirt (as you can see above) and pretty quickly he was saying into his microphone "You in the red shirt!  Let's see some dancing!"

So I'm thinking "oh fuckballs" in my head as I jump into action and start dancing.  Mostly I did it because the patrons of the ship were screaming at me but also because a cameraman was filming me and my dumb ass was being projected on the 11x20 foot screen directly above me.  After that debacle though we just lounged around and drank, the highlight being when I said "All smooth sailing from here!" before tripping over my feet and almost wiping out on the running track.  Eventually we made our way to dinner where we we would meet our two excellent table-mates who we (luckily) got along with so famously, Dan and Jess.

Day 2:
This was our first full day at sea, or as Carnival likes to call it, "Fun Day at Sea!" though I didn't see any reason there should be an exclamation point.  Jill ditched me pretty quickly that day to watch the Packer game at the ESPN Sports Bar, so that left me by myself for FOUR HOURS (she didn't realize we were an hour ahead.)  I mostly just laid out and got some sun while watching Cuba go slipping by, did a little walking around and was recognized at one point by one of the dancers from the night before that saw me on the big screen.  Awkward.  I also ate a lot of Chocolate/Strawberry frozen yogurt because the machines were alllll over the ship and it was free so why not?  Don't judge me.

Eventually Jill did come back and had been harassed throughout most of the game by some big fat pervert named Bryan.  I told her it served her right for leaving me that long.  Got a couple naps in that day though, had some late afternoon sandwiches and watched the sun set over the caribbean before marching off to dinner.  I had a strawberry bisque soup that night which was pretty delicious.  We also did shots of Limoncello... and I'd have to say that that goes down better in drink form than shot form.  Yikes.  We ended the night by buying a cheap-o $10 watch for our excursion the next day.  The chick from Bulgaria working at the store politely told me it wasn't waterproof, despite the box saying it was.  Lick it, lady.

Day 3:
#20 Different Shores; leave the continental US.

We awoke to find the ship was docked and ready in Cozumel, Mexico.  We got dressed and were out the door pretty quickly; after grabbing a light breakfast we were off to find the guy that would take us to our first excursion.  This was the first of four times that we'd have to find a stranger in a forgein country so that we could climb into their shitty van and/or bus.  Just saying.  So we find the guy, check-in and sign away on sheets of paper saying that if we die it isn't their fault, and then we are on our way.

The drive was over in about 20 minutes, with me sitting uncomfortably up front.  Though I suppose Jill had to sit in the back with strangers so it was pretty even.  We did pass a truck carrying a donkey in the back so that was about as "Mexico" as it could get.  The first excursion for us would be one that would make us dirty, sore, and in the end a little bit angry due to faulty equipment provided by the locals.  Alas, we had a great time.

#21 The X-Rails; off-roading in Cozumel.

After an instructional class that lasted all but 5 minutes, we were pushed through a line to buy handkerchiefs to shield us from dust and then marched through the "jungle" to the vehicles.  The X-Rails are like two-person dune buggies, obviously meant for off-roading.  Jill didn't want to drive and that was fine by me, but the steering was manual so that sorta blew balls to crank the wheel just to make a turn. At first we were squealing at every little bit of mud that got on us, rolling through a lake of black water that would eventually come back to haunt us.  Pretty quickly though as we picked up speed the ride was a great one; bouncing off our seats and slamming back down, cracking our helmets against the roll bars above us.  At one point my harness-seatbelt came undone and Jill had to fix it as I refused to slow down.

Good times!

Eventually we get to this place called the Jade Caverns, and it was actually where the Mayan's used to go to sacrifice virgins to the Gods.  They would tell the families when the girls were little that there daughter had been chosen, and then between the ages of 16 and 18 they would come for her.  It was an honor and "allegedly" the girls were never scared, but I doubt that.  Having rocks tied to your feet and then being pushed over a ledge to drop down a 60 foot deep cavern of water is hardly my idea of an honor.  #losethatvirgincardearly

We did get to go to the cavern and jump in, which I would have rather not done because a) the water reeked of sulfur and b) it was fucking cold.  But we bobbled through the cavern, Jill panicking because the ceiling was covered in bats, and then we got the chance to jump from the sacrifical cliff.  Because nothing shows respect for the dead like a bunch of tourists mocking there sacrifice, hey-o!  After the cavern we were back in the X-Rails and ended up behind a couple we met that was from WI as well.  With everyone driving super slow and us at the back, the guy would stop his buggy to let people get really far ahead and then he would SLAM on the gas and I in turn would SLAM on the gas and together we would fly through the jungle at 40 mph, sand literally exploding away from the tires as we screeched around the corners.  That part was an absolute blast and Jill and I couldn't stop laughing the entire time.

Finally we get to the end and one of the workers is there saying that we need to go through the lake of black "mud" water one at a time, and to go through as fast as we wanted to.  Pretty quickly we decide we'll go full-throttle into that bitch.  So when it gets to our turn, I floor it and away we go.  Well we may have pussy-footed through this thing the first time and giggled at the splashes, but the second time?  The second time resulted in a six foot tall wall of black death rising up in front of us and dousing us in murky water from head to toe.  It instantly soaked through the cheap handkerchiefs and filled our mouths, filled our shoes, filled everything.  But it was worth it for the video footage I got.

I should mention now that the entire trip was captured on multiples cameras, the excursions chief among them on a GoPro thanks to @caitcd and her wonderful generosity in lending me her equipment (c:

After that excursion (which ended with the discovery that there were no pictures to purchase thanks to the shit cameras the workers used) we headed back to the port and took showers on the ship.  Jill and I scooted around Cozumel a bit, leaving the port's "tourist" shops and heading to a shady liquor store because I didn't want to buy tequila that you could get back in the US.  The lady working there was incredibly nice and instead of giving us thimble-sized amounts of tequila to taste, girlfriend was pouring full shots of coffee flavored tequila as well as orange flavored.  Jill and I both got the same bottle of coffee flavored tequila, and we both got a good buzz as well.  Not much else happened that day though... we were called Mr. and Mrs. Parker a few times, and "OH LOOK NEWLYWEDS!" more than that.

Day 4:
Woke up early this day to take a tender (smaller boat) to Belize City, Belize.  Hop-skip-and-a-jump and we were on a bus headed into the heart of the country, listening to the tour guide tell us all kinds of random facts about Belize and the locals.  The terrain was mostly flat but in the distance you could see the mountains and they were pretty neat to see.  I was used to seeing the mountains in California but they always looked kinda dead and ugly brown.  Here you could tell they were covered in a rainforest.

Which, by the way, started very abruplty.  I mean, one minute you're looking at women and kids washing their clothes in ditches on the side of the road and the next you're staring into foliage so thick you can hardly see a few feet into it.  This was a nature preserve though so it was beautifully maintained and the people working there were all very nice.  I did learn very quickly that you are never supposed to say something is "great" or "fantastic," they wanted you to say "wicked."  Or to scream it, actually.  "WICKED!"

#22 Up in a Canopy; zip-lining through Belize.

The workers here were much more professional than those in Cozumel, you could tell right away.  I think that may have had to do with the fact that we would be shooting through the trees a couple hundred feet off the ground, suspended by some ropes.  We got suited up and I was thankful the harness hit me in the right spots because it made me look super skinny and that's neeeeever a bad thing when in front of groups of strangers.  Ladies am I right?

After the instructional class we went for a bit of a hike, up fairly steep slopes (some paved with big cement pavers and some just mud that my water-shoes weren't helping much with) toward a platform.  A couple people were panicky up there, one so bad she had to be undone from her harness and allowed to step away.  Jill wanted me to go first because she wanted to hear me screaming, to which I assured her wouldn't happen.  I wasn't scared at all, which I felt was surprising but whatever.  And sure to my word, when he pushed me off the platform and I rocketed across the gaping chasm 250 feet above the ground, it felt like going down a slide really fast.  Too fast, actually, because each jaunt across the wires was over before I knew it and that was a bummer.

In the end it was a fun excursion, capped off by a trip to the Crystal River (totally underground, totally fucking freezing as well) but not one I would really do again.  Like I said, it felt like going down a slide and where is the thrill in that?  I did enjoy it though, just not something I would need to go back for more of.  After all was said and done and I drank a local beer (Belikin, look it up) we bought a dvd of our pictures and then drove back to the port to take a tender back to the ship.

Aside from a great dinner of prime rib and filet mignon, as well as the yummiest raspberry chocolate vanilla cream cake ever, the best part of the evening was Obama winning the election.  And the subsequent screams in the hallways of the ship, namely from a black lady laughing and clapping and shouting "I told you so, Wayne!  I told yo' ass so!"

Day 5:
I learned on this day that the reason all of the ports we had gone to looked the same is because Carnival owns them.  In fact, where we stopped in Honduras at Mahogany Bay, Carnival had just finished a $65 million renovation.  So how about them apples?  This day was the one I had been looking forward to the absolute most, because the excursion was one I had wanted to do since I was a little kid.  Oddly enough, this may have been the most important thing to do on my list of 26 things.

#23 Under the Sea; scuba-diving around Honduras.

We hopped in a rusted-out minivan and drove across the island of what they said was a very poor place to live.  I guess as a tourist I only noticed the lush jungle and not the crappy homes.  Crappy or not, I would live there in a heart beat.  It was just beautiful, and at the end of the trip, was my favorite place we visited.  So you can just know that, especially coupled with the fact that it was rainy and super cloudy that day as well.  I suppose it can't be rainy without the cloudy part, so... yep.  Me and my logic, hard at work.  The place we were going was Anthony's Key Resort, which I'm sure was beautiful in the sunlight but in the grey it still looked pretty decent.

When we got there we were ushered into a classroom, where a hunky guy from the UK named Pete came in and announced that he was our instructor for the day.  Score.  The class was about 45 minutes long and he went over everything from what your body is doing when it is that far under the water to how the breathing apparatus worked.  Very informative though admittedly, me being the monstrous nerd I am, I knew a lot of it already.  Thanks, Steve Alten!  After the class we went out to the boat and shed some clothing in favor of our flippers and tanks.  A two-minute ride toward a dolphin enclosure was where we jumped in for our hands-on training.

The water was about four feet deep and Pete revealed he would be the instructor for my group of four.  Score again!  We sank down to our knees under the water and he started demonstrating the five skill sets we would need to know (getting water out of our masks while down there, how to find our regulators if they got knocked out of our mouths, how to clear the regulators of water, etc.)  He would demonstrate, signal to make sure everyone understood, and then I had to be the first to demonstrate it back.  One lady gave up right away and stood up; she wasn't doing it.  Jill had a bit of a hard time with her demonstrations of the skills, but eventually she got it and our group of three went back to the boat.

The weather was picking up by then and we headed out to the reef that was a good 25 minutes away.  The waves were pretty rocky and were it not for the adrenaline and dramamine running through my veins, I'd have been sick as a dog.  When we jumped in my foot shot through the front of my flipper, so that made me panic until I could fix it and then we were going under.  Lost another member of the group who couldn't hack it.  So Jill and I started scooting down the rope leading to the bottom of the sea.  Pretty quickly though Jill was wagging her hand near her ear to signal there was a problem.  Pete signaled to see if I was fine, and I was, so he had me go in front of Jill and continue down to the reef.  A few minutes later he returned and had sent Jill back to the surface because she couldn't get her ears to pop.

I was sad for her, honestly I was, but... lemme hear ya'll say it.  Score.

Pete ended up taking me away from the other divers that had come down with the other instructors and we went to the edge of the reef.  Out there we were at about 55 feet deep, but when the reef ended it was a 6,000 foot drop.  And it was gorgeous; the most beautiful sonic blue abyss you could ever imagine.  Eventually we came across a sea turlte, which was my favorite part, and it didn't seem like 50 minutes had passed before we were heading back to the surface to get back on the boat.  When we broke the surface Pete immediately asked me if I had done this before.  I told him no, it was my first time, to which he shouts:

"I don't even have to ask if you enjoyed it!  LOOK at that SMILE!"  So I blushed, obviously.  He went on to tell me I was a natural and that I should get certified and come back for more diving because when it is sunny out, the water down there is beautiful.  He kept insisting it, and I believed him.  So... maybe someday (c:

I felt awful for Jill though and the smattering of people that had stayed behind.  The waves had really picked up and they all had their heads between their knees because they were so sick.  We scooted back to shore right away and eventually made our way to Mahogany Bay and the ship.  I didn't buy the DVD they had produced of our dive (there was a guy down there with a video camera,) mostly because Jill wasn't in it at all and partly because I had it on video already on my GoPro and I was only in the DVD like twice.  Hardly worth $45.

When we got back on the ship we both passed out for a few hours because we were totally drained, and then later that night after dinner Jill and I, along with our tablemates Dan and Jess, went to the Karaoke bar.  Jess sang Evanescence's "Bring me to Life," and I was ready to go do Alanis Morissette's "Ironic" but they announced they wouldn't be doing any more songs and I was consequently saved by the bell.

Day 6:
So our day in Grand Cayman was almost ruined by a bunch of refugees from Cuba.  No shit.  The ship was delayed getting into port because it came acrosss a sinking lifeboat, and upon stopping to inspect it was discovered to be full of 20 refugees that had missed Grand Cayman and were now floating out to... I guess South America would be the next stop.  So after the authorites came and hauled their asses away we couldn't dock because the weather was making the water too choppy.  So the ship sailed a bit farther around the island and we docked at a different bay that had no shopping (kinda nice, not complaining.)

Now, I won't say Carnival doesn't know how to run a show because they do, but I will say they sucked balls at getting people off the ship.  Logic would say that if a passenger had paid for an excursion, they should be among the first to take a tender to shore so that they could make there departure time.  But noooo, Carnival was letting anybody go, willy-nilly, even the people that hadn't paid for an excursion and just wanted to fart around the island.

Jill and I eventually made it there, found the guy with the sign for our excursion as he was putting it away, and he vaguely said "Your group is over there."  Phew, we made it, right?  So Jill and I go over to where he pointed and after a few moments of waiting I asked where these people were going for an excursion.

"Oh," this lady says, "we're taking a tour of the island."  SHIT!  We run back to the guy, bark at him, and then he takes off running WITH us to a bus on the opposite side of this parking lot thing.  He is pounding on the doors as the bus starts pulling away, and thankfully it stops so that Jill and I can get on.  Narrowly made that sucker!  The trip to the marina was about 20 minutes and the guide spilled some interesting deets about Grand Cayman and the cost of things ($8 for a tank of gas and $11.50 for a gallon of milk (in US dollars, natch.))

We get to the marina and the group is ushered down this long pier to the catamaran that's waiting for us all.  You could tell the crew was pissed because, all-in-all, the group was two hours late and I'm sure they had shit to do afterward.  We board and set sail almost immediately but it's with the motor and not the sails which bummed me out.  Beautiful ride though, smooth sailing and really the first chance we got to see that "tropical" water you want so badly to live on.  Up until then, the water had been dark everywhere either due to weather conditions or because it was just too damn deep.  But soon enough we reached our destination and I crossed off one more thing from my list of 26, the last one of the trip.

#24 Sandbar Thrills; swimming with stingrays in Grand Cayman.

When we got to the sandbar you could see these big dark shapes scooting around in the water and admittedly, I was thrilled.  I spent a good chunk of my childhood and teen years wanting to be a marine biologist so I made it a point to know a whole myriad of things about the sea.  Until the sea-turtle the day before, I had never seen anything bigger than some fish while swimming (Sea-World doesn't count.) So to get in the water with these guys, some of them five-feet wide, was great.

They were South Atlantic stingrays, also known as kissing stingrays.  The locals believe that to have a female kiss you, you are granted seven years good luck.  A male, 14 years.  The males though stick to the sand so we didn't kiss any, but this gal (her name was Snowflake) was alllll about it.  I'll take seven years good luck!

The photographer took a liking to Jill and I and would later tell us that she got trigger happy for us because we made her laugh.  And that was cool with me because her pictures were fantastic.  It was a really good day, and a great one to end our excursions with.  And, as luck would have it (maybe thanks to Snowflake) when we got back on the catamaran the captain raised the sails and we had the wind carry us back.  It was perfect.

That night on the ship there was a lot of laughing at our dinner table, and then after there was a lot of drinking and dancing on the lido deck.  I may have looked like a fool but that's what vacation is for, right?

Right.

Day 7:
Our final day on the cruise was just a day at sea, and if the first one didn't really deserve Carnival's "!" of approval, this one sure as shit didn't.  Jill and I laid out for a very short while until it got too cloudy and windy to really enjoy it, and then we were inside.  We napped a bit and watched TV (Happy Feet and The Vow were on repeat, I swear.  And The Chipmunks movie.  Ugh.)  We had a great farewell dinner that night, bid adieu to our new friends from Massachusetts, and then went to bed for our early morning de-embarkation.

Soooooooo there you have it, the cruise.  I could have been so much more detailed on this and I'm sorry that I wasn't.  I was going to make this into a couple blogs but, alas, here it is.  I think I get boring when I provide too many details anyway, so if you'd like to know more about anything you are of course more than welcome to ask me.  Lord knows I love to talk!

That being said, I did compile some of the footage into a cohesive movie for you to enjoy, should you so desire.  It's about 14 minutes long, and it's just fun.  Lots of fun.  And you'll see the things I talked about and you'll probably see a bunch more that I didn't.  But, for now, here it is.  Thank you for reading and for being so patient with me to get this puppy posted.  One more month and the Golden Year is over.  I hope you're as excited to relive it with me as I am with you (c:  Toodles gang!

a particular moment

I have like three blogs in this weird sort of gestation right now but I was driving tonight and I couldn't wait to get home and start pounding this one out.  I think the best kinds of blogs are the ones that start with a simple idea from days earlier and suddenly (typically without reason) just explode in your mind.  I put out on Facebook the other day how I felt like going away on the cruise had changed me in some way... that I came back a little bit different but I didn't know how.

I think I may have put my finger on it.

And I'll get to the cruise stuff next time, so don't fret; like any of you would.  But I've gotta get this off my chest so bear with me.

I have never thought too much of myself.  That's not me being dumb or ignorant or naive, it's the truth.  I've never put much worth into my own opinion of who I am as a person.  Shy in most situations that are new to me, almost to an annoying point.  Anxiety over new experiences.  Annoyance (bordering on disdain) of how my body looks.  Disappointment in my achievements.  I'm not asking for a pity party by any means, I'm just pointing things out.  When I left for the cruise I was starting to realize how far I had come this year.  Well, more like the last year and a half (since the dreaded-ex went poof!) but mostly this year.  Where I started it, and where I will end it.  I think you can kind of sum it all up in one word, and that word is determination.

I was bound and fucking determined to change things.

And before I go off on a crazy rant about THAT, I must say I am only telling you the "word of the year" because I am lacing your minds for the blog that comes at the end of said year.  This isn't about that.  The thing I couldn't put my finger on when I got home from the cruise was the amount of clarity I attained while on it.  That's what this is about.

I think in the beginning I spent so much time being angry over what happened that I stopped paying attention to the world around me.  I surrounded myself with my five bests and relied on them to push and pull me through the murk of what my life had settled into, head down and arms crossed.  Then New Years came and with it, the idea for "26 Things," aaaaand with that the feeling that if I wanted something done I would just have to do it myself.  So I started doing things myself, for myself.

I started working out, or my version of it, as it were.  Then I started paying attention to how I presented myself to the world (wardrobe, hair, skin, teeth, etc.)  What I didn't realize that when I stopped caring about what the world thought of me was that I would subconsciously begin work on my own internal reconstruction.  Again, I didn't realize it while it was happening.  And naturally, slowly, but surely, as the year progressed some of the "bests" started sliding away.  My attention focused harder on the reconstruction.

With a new job, the obstacles in front of me shifted and altered.  With new friends, my outlook transformed as well.  I opened myself up to new people and new experiences, trying to keep a "yes" attitude to everything that I could.  Still, I had my head down, telling myself and often those around me that I was working toward some sort of goal.  Outwardly it was just to get ready for the end of the year and "whatever" I would do for 2013.

Inwardly, it was the search for that... moment.

That moment when I would know I had reached the only thing I wanted to reach.  I wouldn't understand until it happened, and I couldn't anticipate it because how could I know what to look for?  It would be a spark, and light, a moment in time.  It would be everything out of nothing, but the culmination of nothing from everything.  It came tonight... partly last night, I suppose... and over the course of the week that I've been home now that I think about it.

The realization that I'm no longer disappointed in myself.  It makes me so sad to say that and it makes me so happy at the same time.  I'm no longer disappointed in myself?  Good grief.  Is that what this whole year was about?  To veer my life away from what it had been and towards something I could actually be proud of?

The short answer is yes.

I've never walked into a social situation with people I had never before met, exuding confidence.  Never.  Job interviews are one thing, meeting friends of friends is another, and going places you've never been before with no idea what to expect?  Forget about it.  But then the cruise happened, and with it I started to see how much I had changed this year in terms of my approach.

I walked into my job interview earlier this summer with my head held high and an ambition that shocked my future employers.  I've met more new friends this year than ever before in my life, not shying away but instead throwing my personality out there and saying "fuck it" if they didn't like it.  Honing my presence in social situations to something... very particular.  Some of you know what I'm talking about.  Every excursion for the cruise we went on meant going up to a total stranger, saying hey, then getting into a shitty looking bus or van and hoofing it into the heart of a foreign country.

There's that old adage that we fear most what we don't understand, and I think generally that applies to the external forces in our lives and that's about it.  People, places, and things.  But can it apply to you as an individual?  Can you, for lack of a better word, be afraid of yourself, simply because you don't understand?  I'm not sure what you wouldn't understand... mostly who you are as a person, I suppose.  What you mean to everyone else.

I won't lie and say I know everything there is to know about myself, what I'm capable of and what I'm not, but I will say that for the first time ever I feel like I have more to offer than the average Joe.  And I never would have thought that possible.  I have always held other people up on a platform around me, hoping to attain the greatness that they themselves have and never believing I could have it in me as well.

We are all great in our own rights, we all do things better than some and worse than others.  You are told that countless times from childhood through high school you are special.  Unique, even.  But does it ever sink in?  No, because typically it is met with an eye-roll.  At least for me it was met with an eye-roll (I like doing it... this isn't a surprise.)

The second you start to believe it though... that second is magical.  Tonight I looked back at the last several months and it really hit me that I've changed.  As desperate as I was to do so, I did it.  It wasn't a complete 180, because I didn't want that, but it was a slight enough change in direction that it will only create greater distances in the future.  Distances between who I was and who I will eventually be.

I'm sure when I re-read this before posting it I will think I am trying to sound prophetic and will roll my eyes (see, told you,) but that wasn't my intent.  Sometimes I just need to get things out on paper (or blog, natch,) because when they are out of my head they become a bit clearer.  Tonight I started to see things a bit clearer.  And as I predicted, that moment was everything and nothing all at the same time.  A spark in the dark, a light in my head... maybe a swerve of the wheel.  That part isn't true, but it would work in a movie, right?  Right.

The year is drawing to a close and I have a newfound excitement for the things coming my way.  Blogs about the cruise are soon to follow so stay tuned.  And what else can I say, what else... my hair looks great?  Yes, that'll do.  My hair looks great!

I'll leave you with a good song, as I'm in a super good mood.  Time to begin (c:

a sleeping beauty

It's funny to me how (and when) the inspiration to pump one of these out comes.  October as a whole was a pretty drab month in terms of me WANTING to write, but in reality it was actually a fantastic month that as usual ended too quickly.  Today is Halloween, and I find myself in a much different mind-set than I was in last year.  365 days ago I was settling in for the long months of winter ahead and day-dreaming about a boy I had just met.  Right now?  I'm half-assed packing (that will turn into feverishly packing in a little bit) for my caribbean cruise I leave for on Friday.  Winter is settling in, sure, but it seems like it is more of a welcome sight this year than in years past.

I'm not sure why that is but hey, I could fill a book with shit I'm not sure about.

I've always teetered on saying Halloween is my favorite holiday, because while I get into it pretty severely, Christmas is always right up there with it.  You can't really go nuts for Easter, and Valentines Day is always a dump unless you're in a relationship.  Thanksgiving is finished in a 24 hour period and St. Patrick's day just runs until you pass out.  But Halloween and Christmas extend beyond the days they inhabit and because of that, they are equals to me.

I tried to do as many "Halloweeny" things as I could this month, mostly to make October look somewhat appealing in my video project.  If it weren't for the cruise in November... then that month would be quite the bust I assure you.  The month started by joining @caitcd in the search for a perfect pumpkin.  We took her pooch Walter to an apple orchard/pumpkin patch in Darboy and spent the afternoon walking around and taking pictures (both dressed for the part of "Autumn Cutie," natch.)

The days rolled onward, eventually reaching a Friday night where a whole group of us took part in one of the many haunted houses that seem to continuously appear every fall.  This of course being the Burial Chamber, though nothing there is actually called "The Burial Chamber" anymore, so go figure that one out.  That night was admittedly a blast.  Haunted houses don't tend to scare me because I am too tall and when that occurs, the people can't really get into your face.  HOWEVER, there were a few scares that had me screaming like a girl.  @caitcd was flying through the place so I resigned to holding onto Mr. R (no twitter handle for him, so sorry) most of the night.  Partly because I couldn't see very well, partly because he let me, lol, and partly because eeeeeeevery now and then I play the damsel (or dudesel, whichever) in distress.  And I was buzzing on mini bottles of Bailey's, so... rockstar, I know.

The highlight of the evening was this gem (seen below) coming up to us and screaming and hoo-hawing because he was supposed to be an army guy.  @caitcd asked if we could get a picture.

Him - "Well SURE!  Choke yourself!"
Me - "Hu-wuh?"
Him - "I said choke yourself!"
::I reach my hands up to choke myself, confused::
Him - "With MY hands, fool!"
::I notice his hands and roll my eyes, obliging::

They aren't allowed to touch you, ya see?  He had girl hands anyway.

Then the focus back home at Parker Manor turned directly to my costume.  I think that in years past I've given a sort of vague outline to my mom as to what I want to look like and sorta... heaved costume bits at her to see the result.  This year we really went to town and I think the result spoke for itself.  But before the real Halloween escapades could fly, I was to attend the Masquerade at Ash&Ember Studios.  I supplied almost all of my Halloween decorations for the event, to assist in whatever way I could, and it was nice to know they were being used.  In a weird way.  While I would have loved to throw the fourth annual "Halloween Extravaganza" this year, it wasn't really in the cards.  I didn't have a location to host the party, I didn't have the funds to buy everything I would need for it (and still afford anything else,) and above all I just didn't have the time.

It sucked on the one hand but it was great on the other because for once I didn't have to put everything together myself and hope people showed up.  This time it would be ME getting to show up, on my own terms, and that was pretty rad.  For the Masquerade I had this great Venetian mask (long nose, etc) that fit great but when I took the little cardboard hang-tag off of it I realized how badly it dug into my forehead.  I'd have to wear it "up" most of the night so naturally, me being me, I took the additional opportunity to wear makeup.

The Masquerade was a great time, both due to the host Ryan and by the company I shared it with.  The silent reminder of my decorations EVERYWHERE made me think in my head "year four still happened," even if no one but me noticed.  I think next Halloween when "Year Five" blows the doors open it will be with a BANG! and a nod to this years costume.  For you see, each year I reference my costume from the year prior, and of course this would be no exception.

The fourth annual party was silent because the host was taking a nap.  And that brings us, my dear readers, to #18 on my list of Golden Things.  Yes, I just sneak-attacked you on this bitch, what-WHAT!

#18 A Sleeping Beauty; finally go Disney for Halloween.

Before you roll your eyes at me for using something as simple as a costume as one of my Golden Things, I'd like to state a fact for the record: I have thought about doing Disney severalseveralseveral times in the past.  From Ursula to Jessica Rabbit, to Gaston (pfft) and at one point Snow White.  For some reason or another I never went through with it.

Partly because being sweet as humble pie for Halloween doesn't interest me.

And while yes, you can argue that Hocus Pocus (Winifred Sanderson) is a Disney movie, and three Peter Pan costumes as a child were as well, I really mean Disney Princesses.  And what better way to recognize the legacy of cartoon royalty than to, shall we say... twist it?

There is an artist named Jeffrey Thomas who drew a series of portraits of the Disney Princesses as altered, "twisted" versions.  I suggest you google them because some of the pictures are pretty damn fantastic.  Belle sucks though... just saying.  The reason I settled on Princess Aurora, aka Sleeping Beauty, is because I could not shave my chest this year for Halloween.  With the cruise just a few days after I didn't want a) razor burn and b) the loss of my comfort shield (the fur vest, FYI.)

That and I thought she looked like a total badass.

Mom got the costume finished in a very short turnaround and in my opinion, it is the best yet.  Mainly because of that CORSET and how THIN it made me look!  Work it!  I reused the Babydoll wig from last year (sorry girl, RIP) that @markstyleme was then able to reshape into those iconic blonde bangs.  Behold, reader, my interpretation of the one that pricked her damn finger:

This was my ugly year and I stayed true to my word.  I do think it was also pretty magnificent, because that makeup fuckin' rocked any way you look at it.  I wasn't as tattered looking as the picture would have warranted but that was because I can always reuse these pieces and I didn't fancy chopping them up.

The night was a pretty fantastic one, starting at @markstyleme's home with him and @caitcd, detoured quickly back to Parker Manor because I forgot my boobs at home, and then on to Wrightstown for the house party my old neighbors were throwing.  From there we ventured to downtown Appleton, stopping at a few bars along the main strip.  I was nervous as shit because being in drag on the "straight" end of the avenue seemed like a bad idea, even on Halloween.  To my surprise it was mostly decent, with several people commenting and stopping to take pictures of us.

We ended it all at Raven's, just in time for the costume contest to start.  I took a deep breath and strolled on up to the stage, remembering how last year I took a chance on a character (Babydoll) from a movie few people saw (Suckerpunch) and LOST miserably.  Would this year be different?  I wasn't the "normal" version of Aurora; who would get it?

Well no one would get it, lol, and I still lost, HOWEVER I made it back up to the stage as a finalist and that was all I needed to happen.  It didn't matter if I won or not, I still did well enough to hit top five.  And for the record, that fat bitch in the red hood and whoever it was in the wolf mask that stole second place?  Go fuck yourselves; my costume kicked both of your asses and will continue to do so any day of the way, and as I said that night, a Disney Princess ain't got shit to prove.

So now I'm way behind on packing and the night is drawing to a close.  Another Halloween come and gone, this one somehow feeling so much less like Halloween than any before.  I think that has to do with living all the way out here with no trick-or-treaters, or maybe it's because I did SO much Halloween stuff that I am pooped out from it.  I did also work today, which was the first time that happened in a good eight years on this o-holiest of days, so that bit the shit-bullet as well.

I'd like to take a quick peak at what next year will hold, if there is a fantastic party or a first-place award in my hands, if I do an outfit that is so over-the-top that I won't be able to top it again or if I do the unthinkable and actually go as a dude (only if I have my abs by then, natch.)  Who knows?  I know it'll be a little bit more on my own terms than the last two have been, that's for sure.  I do throw a mean party after all (c;

Goodnight for now, gang.  It was a great season all-in-all and now I look forward to that day two months from now where I wrap up the year and get ready to premier my movie for your wondering eyes.  Stay tuned, the story only gets better!  See you in two weeks, but in the mean-time, enjoy watching that dumb bitch @markstyleme get yelled at by me.  Turn the volume up; it's hysterical.

second iteration

Well, well, well, el pollo has come home to roost.  And look where we found ourselves; today is the one year anniversary of my blog!  Hooray!  I love anniversaries, of any sort.  Really and truly, I do.  I will say they were better when I had someone to share them with, but those were a certain kind of anniversary and not the kind to which this entails.  This sort of anniversary, to me, is more along the "milestone" line than anything else.  And everyone loves a good milestone!

I don't have SO much to write tonight, but maybe a sorta off-the-wall reflection as to where I am this year compared to last would suffice.  I'm writing this with Modern Family blaring in the background so I'm sure I'll be attacking this thing like an ADD afflicted five year old.

Let's see here, one year ago... what was I doing?  Well by all accounts, at this moment I was watching the series premiere of American Horror Story on FX.  I have this great service I subscribe to called "Timehop," and it sends you your Facebook status updates from a year ago every morning in an e-mail.  And if you update with the sweaty, feverish intensity of a fat girl writing her first love letter like I do, it's a nifty service to have.  Unless it reminds you about something shitty, in which case it isn't fun but a mocking point of view from "Timehope Abe" and his cruel words of reminder.  Son of a bitch.

I mused that October 10th, 2011, about what this blog would entail.  My thoughts and ramblings, neither positive every step of the way nor negative to counteract it.  Just me being me, and as has happened in the past, it became a self-fulfilling prophecy.  That's always a pleasing result (c:  Sometimes I do look back on old blogs and wish they could always be funny; those tend to be the more enjoyable ones.  Then again, miserable ones may be just as good and you all simply enjoy reveling in my oh-so-deep emotions.  The blog-views don't lie on that logic, haha.

I'm pleased that I kept up with this thing.  I've started blogs in the past on other social sites and they haven't really amounted to much.  I think a big part of what keeps me going is that I can see people are reading these.  Some of you talk to me about them, and some of you talk to each other about them.  That part is super cool, to be honest.  I've always wanted to be in the vernacular of the masses, never thought I would have to do it on my own terms and through my words.  But what else would a self-proclaimed author do?  This is my 39th blog in 365 days... maybe next October I'll have hit 100.  That would mean this next year would have to be pretty fuckin' rad; anybody up for the challenge?

A lot has changed in a year though, that part is for certain.  I'm not pining for the same guy anymore, the one that I would end up writing a blog about in roughly a week that dealt with admiring someone from afar.  I'm not working at the same job and whining about my pay or things being unfair.  No more busted car, no more feelings of resentment toward the dreaded-ex for what happened.  I guess you could say I'm a happier person all around, and that's rarely a bad thing.  I don't know WHEN it would be a bad thing... but that's just something people say, right?

Tonight I have been researching the final bits I need for my Halloween costume; I bought the contacts for it and they should be here in about a week and a half.  I've got almost three weeks to the day until I depart for my cruise, but before that I have another laser treatment on ye old back.  Bleh.  Aside from that all there are a few big events coming in the next few months, some possibly bigger than others, and of course there is the end of the year and the premier of my video project as well.  All of these THINGS you guys have to look forward to!

So what does the second iteration of the blog look like?  I don't know if you're asking that, but if you are, I'll tell you.  It looks a lot like this... but it also is going to look a little different.  Expect to see a lot more dedication to my book, because by the time the third iteration rolls around, I'd like to be  a published author.  And wouldn't THAT just be a fantastic prophecy to become self-fulfilling?  Yeah, I thought so too.

So excited I could just spit.

For now I'll sit back and pet my cats that are fighting on the bed behind me, and then I'll take a shower and go to bed so as to be at work by seven am tomorrow.  Not the most thrilling blog in the world today but hey, if it was, I wouldn't have been true to my words from a year ago.  Happy anniversary to me!

Enjoy some Muse before you skadootch, because I still can't get this song OR the video out of my head after a month (c:

the reality of dating

I think if you gathered every gay man on the planet up and asked him what his ideal dude would be, he'd have roughly the same answer.  Now, that isn't a thought that is 100% certain, nor is it a fact that you could sit down and write a thesis on; just an opinion.  It is my own, it is that of my friends, and it is what seems to fit the mold.  What kind of guy do I like?  A man.  A man's man.

That's about as pure and simple as it gets.

Now I don't want to alienate anyone with this blog, but as I begin what will presumably be a long and arduous process of dating, I begin to also understand the complexities that comes from it.  I.E., how fucking picky I really am and how big of a nightmare this is going to probably become.  I know you can't expect to find "love" while you're dreading the mere prospect of it, but what else am I supposed to do?  I've been on my share of bad dates.  I've had my fair share of crummy circumstances.  And as I sit and reminisce on them, I thought it'd be fun to take you along on a couple of my historically bad dates.  Three to be precise.

I'll start with the most tame, and also the most recent.  It was a couple weeks ago and one that I only told a few people about.  I suppose it wasn't technically a date as it was more of a "hey, let's hang out" type of thing.  And in hindsight this story isn't as particularly funny as I thought it was but I already started writing it and now I can't stop.  We'll call him Ted.  Ted and I started talking about a year ago through a chatting service on our phones, and at first I thought he was a nice guy and fairly good looking.  Then he said he didn't want to keep texting, he wanted to talk to me on the phone.  When I asked why, it was because he wanted to make sure I didn't have, and I quote "a gay-ass pussy voice."

Wow!  Charm the pants right off of me!

So he got a quick block because I didn't feel I needed to keep talking to someone like that, even if all I had to do was prove my voice wasn't gay-ass or pussy-esque.

It's NOT like that.

I mean come on... it's not like that... right?

Flash forward a year and I am talking to Ted again but not realizing it's him.  THIS time, thanks in large part to one of my "multiples" pictures from earlier this summer where I look exceptionally brawny, he says we should hang out to get to know each other.  Not a date though.  I aquiesce to his request and go to dinner with him.  All I can say is that first impressions really are correct, because he was every bit as much of an asshole as I remembered.  Rude, condescending, crass, racist, sexist, homophobic (yeah, really.)  I'm sure I'm not the shining example of a perfect guy but this one... wow.  I told @markstyleme that if that is what a man's man is, then count me out.  Anyway, that was that one.  Moving along.

When I was still in high school and hiding my "secret identity" from my parents, I went on a date with a guy that lived in Milwaukee.  His name was Ryan.  We met on hotornot.com (hahaha... true story) and decided to meet for coffee on some random week night.  The date was ok, nothing great.  There was also no kiss because I was too scared to do anything like that by ANY means.  So a few days later Ryan decides to come back and go on ANOTHER date, this one having him tag along to the spring musical at my high school on a Saturday. We went, had a decent enough time, but I started noticing something about his breath.

Namely how bad it was.

I had to drive him back to the mall after the show because that was where he had parked his car, and then he pulled the moves.  Lots of kissing.  Kissing that gave way to just how awful his breath was.  After a little while he pulled away and asked when we could go out again and I said point blank that we couldn't.  He had this sort of hurt look on his face and asked if we could make out a little more.  I remember looking at the clock in the Jeep and thinking "I have to get to Sara's house for dinner" because that was the plan, but I let him kiss me anyway.  He spent a lot of time on my neck.  A few minutes later he slid something behind my ear and got out of the car in the rain and ran to his.  I reached behind my ear and pulled out a rolled up $10 bill.

What the FUCK?!

I remember being a little angry, and then laughing about it.  I told everyone at Sara's about it and then we used the $10 to buy supplies for spaghetti.  It was at the grocery store that everyone pointed out to me the HUGE hickey he left on my neck; the worst part was that I was taking a senior trip two days later to New York City with a bunch of classmates.  His new nickname was created that night; Poo-Poo Breath Ryan.  Oddly enough he would wind up being a close friend of another friend of mine.  That's also the inside-scoop on the "$10" story that sometimes still circulates with select individuals and myself.

Now we come to the worst date.  Or weirdest.  Or both, I don't know.

I think his name was Kyle.  It may have been Zach, but we'll go with Kyle.  This was in the summer fo 2006.  Randomly on Myspace (you heard me right) one day, I got a message from this guy named Kyle.  A faint memory placed him at a club called The West I had gone to when I was 18 (the West was the only place I could get into because they had a dry section for 18+.)  So he and I got to talking and I remembered him more and more, namely that there had always been an attraction.  Dim lights, thumping music, you know how it goes.

So we agree to go on a date.  It was August and I told him that I just didn't want to do anything outside because it was muggier than shit and (honestly) I was growing my hair out and it looked frightening when not in an air-controlled environment.  And I of course wanted to look my best for the date.  He thought it was a good idea and agreed he wouldn't plan for anything that involved the outdoors.

Our meeting place was at Barnes&Noble and immediately I thought to myself when I saw him "well... pictures did too much justice."  There was just something off about him... the way you would see the runt of a litter and know it hadn't been the award winning sperm but maybe the 8th runner up.  We said our hellos and he told me he wanted to take me to Stuc's for dinner, which is a pizza place in Appleton.  I had never been there before so I said sure and offered to drive since he had come down from Green Bay.  As we are walking to the car, I smell something funny but I'm not sure what it is.  We get to the Jeep and climb in and immediately I realize "oh shit, this guy isn't wearing deodorant."  If he was, he should have put on an extra swipe of Ladies Speed-Stick because he still stunk to high heaven.

I rolled the windows down a crack and sped to the restaurant, where we quickly got a seat and I was able to lean away from him as much as I could.  It takes a lot to get to me but it was the most offensive smell I've ever encountered in such close proximity.  We get our sodas and keep talking and admittedly, the conversation is good.  He gestures a lot with his hands and I'm watching them because I notice there is something else somehow askew.  Finally he pauses to breathe and looks out the window, resting his hands on the table top.   And I see it.

Three of his fingers don't have nails.  They don't have nails AT ALL.  Not like "Oooh, ouch, you bit your nails down too far."  THEY DIDN'T EXIST!  His thumb had a sliver of a nail on it, like it was the far edge of a nail, and that was it.  I was absolutely horrified, lol, and I remember kind of panicking and looking around the room to see if everyone else was seeing this.  Of course no one was there to witness the deformity so I kept my mouth shut and finished the meal when it came.

Eventually dinner was over and we continued the date, which coincidentally involved playing mini-golf... outside... in the sweltering humidity like I said I wanted to avoid.  But by that point he had no points in my book and didn't look to be attaining any either.  After that he wanted to watch a movie at my house and I was too nice to say "not a shot in hell ya mutant!" so we went back to my parents and watched Spider-Man 2 in my bedroom.  After the movie was over I drove him all the way back across town to Barnes&Noble and would only agree to a farewell hug.  As the days after went on, we kept talking and I thought that maybe I had been too harsh in my judgement.

Wait, I mean... did I say judgmental?  Like anyone would EVER think that of me.

About a week later I got out of work one sunny afternoon and got in the Jeep and smelled something absolutely and revoltingly rank.  I looked in the backseat, seeing nothing.  So I drove home with the windows down, not sure what it was.  When I got home I looked again and almost threw up in my mouth; his left-over pizza from the restaurant was still in the car, and there were maggots on it.  I immediately threw it away and washed my hands several times, recoiling in heebie-jeebies from the sight.  Eventually I checked my computer to see that he had sent me a survey on MySpace that he had already filled out so helpfully.  Only one thing in that entire survey caught my eye:

Tell me one thing most people don't know about you: I was born with eleven fingers and twelve toes.

I said FUCK IT and never talked to him again; and that's the vain nature of me being me!  At 20 years old it was, at least.

So in the end I like that every bad date led to a great memory.  Maybe at the time it was nothing more than a case of me rolling my eyes and mostly acting like a bitch, but they were stories that I told over and over to people because they always got a good laugh.  I'm sure there have been several other bad dates.  I know there have been, actually, but right now they aren't really coming to me like I thought they would.  I suppose bad dates should stay in the past, yes?  Expect for 'ol fingernails there.  That one I'll NEVER forget.

But with the bad comes sweet, and like Jason Lee said in Vanilla Sky, "the sweet, can never be as sweet, without the sour."  I'm still not all about "love" yet.  As much as I'd like to find that perfect man and get swept off my feet, I'm too focused on myself right now to have room for anyone else.  I realize as I say that how conceited it makes me sound but I don't mean it that way at all.  With the end of the year looming, along with the reality of how far I have to go to finish not only the 26 Things but also the movie that accompanies them, where do I have the time for a budding relationship?  I figured if I could make it through a solid year without dating anyone I'd be ready when the year was up.

One of the 26 Things was not "#(insert-number-here) Re-entering the Stratosphere; fall in love again."  I would never be so bold as to think I could PLAN on falling in love, let alone have it on my list.  After all, I've been in love so it wouldn't really count as something I had never done before.  Still, I'll entertain the thought and keep my eyes set on the goal of New Years Day and this year being completed like a long-in-gestation homework assignment.  Only it's one that I gave myself... and really, is there any better kind?

Until then I'm happy and single and enjoying the memory of shitty dates and somewhat looking forward to the new memories of more shitty ones.  Like that prick Ted.  I'm sure "the one" is out there, but for now he's happy in his own world and I in mine.  Which makes it sound like he'd be unhappy in mine, lol, but we can't win all the time!  Look for another post on the 10th; it's a retrospective for my one year anniversary of the blog (c: