The Wind Beneath My Nostrils

So, I was on the TreadClimber this morning, having an awesome time sweating and breathing heavily, when all of a sudden I smelled the unmistakable stench of fart. I quickly brought my sweat towel up to my nose, thinking that my own funk would be better than the deathly wind that accosted my nostrils. I surreptitiously looked to my left and saw the woman on the elliptical fanning her nose as well; the guy on the recumbent cycle on my right had temporarily plugged his own schnozz. This made me count them out as the possible culprits. Which meant only one thing: the guy on the treadmill in front of all of us must have been the one to have passed gas just then. Okay, I’m all for bodily functions being all natural, yada, yada, yada. But, I also believe that there’s a time and place for everything. And, if it had only happened once during his workout, I probably would’ve been open to accepting it as an accidental release on his part. But, it happened again. Two more times. How fucking rude!

Get to Know Me Better

Bryan tagged me with this meme. Just spreading the love here.

The rules are:

1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.
3. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.
4. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.

1) What was I doing 10 yrs ago?

I was in the insane world of the hotel industry. In eight years, I worked in five different hotels. In spite of my executive level position but because of the high profile nature of most of the hotels at which I worked, I managed to log an average of 14 to 16 hours a day, often working six days a week. Not a way to live, IMO. It got in the way of everything– fitness, time with family and friends, relationships, leisure time, hobbies, etc. It also, dare I admit, led to one glorious year of serious drinking. (And I don’t mean sodas.) I am grateful for the skills I attained from my years in that industry but was more than elated when I finally decided to get out.

2) What are 5 things on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order):

1. Workout. (Heading to the gym in 15 minutes.)
2. Eat a waffle. (Because I feel like it.)
3. Shop for a new pair of jeans. (Because twelve just ain’t enough.)
4. Organize my storage unit. (I’m probably not going to do this.)
5. Write. (Well, here’s a start…)

3) Snacks I enjoy:

• carrots
• granola bar
• Doritos
• pretzels

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire:

• Travel around the world
• Set up my own art design studio
• Split my time between New York City and Tokyo
• Engage in charitable causes

5) Three of my bad habits:

1. procrastination
2. impatience
3. Doritos

6) 5 places I have lived:

1. San Juan, Puerto Rico
2. St. Louis, Missouri
3. Napa, California
4. Cannon Beach, Oregon
5. South Orange, New Jersey

7) 5 jobs I have had:

1. Executive Assistant Manager (Hotel)
2. Rooms Executive (Hotel)
3. Assistant Rooms Executive (Hotel)
4. Rooms Division Manager (Hotel)
5. Assistant General Manager (Hotel)

8 ) 5 peeps I wanna know more about:

1. smysore
2. DAVE ID
3. nectarfizz
4. curlywurlygurly
5. John

Garmin With The Wind

Real men don’t ask for driving directions. That’s what we’re taught to say. Are GPS devices, therefore, leading to our inadvertent emasculation?

Some time ago, I offered to provide a couple of out-of-towners driving directions on how to get to a particular spot at which we all needed to meet up. The guys told me my directions weren’t necessary since they had a Garmin. I said fine and we went on our separate ways. I hopped in my car and decided that I would take a “short cut,” knowing that my “short cut” would get me to the spot at least 10 minutes faster than the other guys who would no doubt be instructed by their Garmin to take the freeways.

Big mistake. I ended up getting a little lost on my “short cut” and actually found myself in a part of the city with which I was unfamiliar. Naturally, I didn’t stop to ask for directions and, instead, managed to make my way to our rendezvous point by following my own instincts and basic navigational cues. I arrived at the spot 10 minutes later than the other guys, who mocked with, “And you wanted to give us driving directions.”

Ultimate Trio: Eatin’ Good in the Neighborhood

On Sunday night, we ate at Applebee’s by default. It was by default because we ended up there after beginning our discussion about dinner going back and forth between having Mexican or Chinese cuisine. Our biggest consideration would be to ensure that our fussy dinners (two toddlers and a vegetarian–hmm, that sounds like a CBS sitcom) would have something to eat. When we left the house, we decided on Mexican and went to a place that I’d read about was good and was close-by. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the restaurant, the hours of operation sign on the door proudly announced that they took their siesta on Sundays. That was to say, they were closed. So, off to Applebee’s we went.

Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with Applebee’s. I think it’s a safe bet when you just want to have “something to eat.” It’s not going to end up on Conde Nast or Fodor’s any time soon, but it’s not entirely nasty either. When I opened the menu, I was rewarded with the tantalizing image of a plate brimming with boneless hotwings, two miniburgers, and a sliced steak quesadilla towers. That was it. I knew exactly what I was going to order. So, when the waiter asked me for my selection, I lifted the menu, showed him the picture, and said, “Exactly as shown.”

One thing about menus, I was reminded later, was that the food rarely looks as appetizing in real life as they do in the carefully prepped photos. My “Ultimate Trio” came in three kidney bean-shaped ceramic containers atop a 14″ plastic platter lined with wax paper. Not only did it not look “exactly as shown” on the menu, my order also looked puny and I doubted it would fill me up.

Lo and behold, halfway through the visually unappetizing treat, I was busting at the seams. Don’t get me wrong; I managed to finish the meal, but it took a while. And it was actually quite tasty. Again, they won’t pass the Iron Chef judges– especially those from the original Japanese version of the show– but they weren’t nasty.

So, if you happen to end up at Applebee’s at some point, try their “Ultimate Trio” menu, and you’ll soon find yourself “eatin’ good in the neighborhood.”

Six Degrees of MySpace

I have always been fascinated with the idea that the connection between any two individuals on our planet may be as little as six acquaintances. Surely, the advent of the Internet over forty years ago breathed new life to this concept, which was first conceived by Guglielmo Marconi in 1909. In fact, I wonder if the supposed existence of a multiverse would not only strengthen this supposition but actually decrease the degree of separation. Social networks like MySpace and Facebook and, dare I say, even WordPress, also contribute to our shrinking world, where people from all walks of life and every corner of the world are able to connect albeit virtually (and even anonymously, for that matter). And if a current science fiction idea like a “group mind” were to come to be, there would be zero degree of separation. We will forever be connected with everyone and we will never be alone. Hmm, on second thought, that would be a bad idea.

Saturday Pic Picks // 04.19.08

Copyright © 2008, JonSquared Productions.
All Rights Reserved

Spatred Has Slightly Diminished

I’m feeling a bit conflicted right now about how I view David Spade. I distinctly mentioned in my About page how much I despised him (and Chevy Chase), but after hearing him on the Adam Carolla radio show two mornings ago, I’d have to say that my opinion of him has somewhat changed. David Spade actually sounded like a nice guy. Herein lies my conundrum.

Maybe it was the characters he played on TV that I didn’t like; the personas he’d portrayed. Maybe the David Spade from the Tommy Boy and Joe Dirt days that I completely abhorred is not the same as today’s David Spade. The Adam Carolla radio show David Spade certainly was different and not the least bit annoying. Has my Spatred (tm Aaron Ivey) indeed dimished?

And just when I was about to add Pauly Shore to my list of people that I undeniably hate, he goes on the Adam Carolla show and is actually likable. Is Adam Carolla inadvertently bridging the gap between me and the people I loathe? Which detestable creature will he have on next on his show that I will suddenly begin liking again? Is Adam Carolla an ambassador for peace?

New Ad Campaign? Priceless.

Remember when the first “priceless” commercial from MasterCard came out, and you may have thought to yourself how simple yet brilliant it was?  I certainly did.  I considered it a masterstroke in advertising. But, now, over a decade later– with a bajillion incarnations of that ad, including spoofs and satires– I now consider it one of the most annoying, predictable messages on TV. It’s like knowing which character in a Friday the 13th movie is about to get whacked. I don’t know if there are any statutes of limitation to how long a particular ad campaign should be run by any company, but, c’mon! This ad has run its course, in my opinion.

First Hot Day of the Year

It got up to 76 degrees Fahrenheit in Portland yesterday with sunny, blue skies. And, yes, that means a ton in P-Town. Everyone was outside catching the typically elusive rays. I, myself, didn’t want to waste the sunshine and spent most of the day out of doors. Thank goodness for free wi-fi at coffee shops and pubs. The shot above was taken as I sat outside the Matchbox Lounge, a small neighborhood bar that is within three blocks of my residence. (Convenient, ain’t it?) A buddy of mine joined me and we imbibed on a few choice cold beverages. (Note to self: Clean laptop.)

Rockin’ The Beard Again

I posted around Christmastime that I was going to shave my beard off come January 1st. I’d sported one ever since I left the hoity-toity world of the hotel industry nearly two years ago, wherein facial hair on employees– at least in the luxury hotel tier where I once toiled– was not only frowned upon but was downright prohibited. (Only a select few were allowed and only for “medical reasons.” Say it with me, “Huh?”) Well, I did shave it off on New Year’s Day morn, and actually felt good about it.

That was until I went back to work on the 2nd, where I heard plenty of “Oh, you look different.” especially from the females, to whom I felt the phrase was actually code for “You looked better with a beard.” I also had a poodle-haired co-worker comment: “What, did you want to look like a 12-year-old or something?” Prior to growing a beard, I’d always been told that I looked younger than I am. (Actually, I still got that comment even with the beard, but the age they threw at me was 3 to 5 years older than what people mistook it before to be.)

Anyway, my “baby face” lasted only until my ski trip at the end of February when I let my facial follicles grow rampant again that, when I returned to work from that trip, I got some compliments for it. “Oh, yeah, he’s rockin’ the beard again!” the same increasingly creepy poodle-haired co-worker bellowed one morning to me. And, it got me to thinking that, when I was beardless, did I look just absolutely hideous?