Aug 31, 2008

Fritschie, now available in healthy!

I haven't posted in a while, and the main reason for that is because I quit smoking. And, until I got used to the idea of not having a cigarette in my hand at any given moment, i had to detach myself from certain activities that lent themselves to the activity of chain-smoking, such as sitting at my computer for hours on end and goofing off on the internet. Hell, the average blog post wasted away at least a quarter of a pack of Camels. Little by little, I'm re-introducing those activities back into my life, always careful not to give into the temptation to run around the corner to QuikTrip for a fresh pack.

I've also adopted some new philosophies in my life, namely the idea that anything is bugging the living crap out of me at any given moment should be purged as quickly as possible... within reason, of course. Case in point, I cut off my long hair. I did that last Thursday. I went right up to the counter at the barber shop, looked the lady right in the eye, pointed at my hair and said, "Make this go bye-bye."

Her response, "Did your girlfriend put you up to this?" And her face kinda lit up when I told her I didn't have a girlfriend. But, I didn't take it any further than the haircut.

Another reason for not posting was that I didn't want to bore your guys with constant bitching about wanting a cigarette, which I firmly believe is why all of my previous attempts have failed.

In case you were wondering, here's a progress update: Doing great. It's been nearly two weeks on the patch, with Altoids and chewing gum for extra strong cravings...and if all else fails, I punch the cat. Fortunate for Chuckles, the cravings haven't been that strong. I also made sure that I got the name brand Nicoderm patches, and not the cheaper store-brand versions, whose dramatically lower price has me convinced they are nothing more than Scotch tape that's been licked by a three-pack-a-day smoker.

And I've only cheated once. Wait, I can explain:

On this past Tuesday, I left for work without putting on the Nicoderm patch. I tried to make it through the day without any nicotine in my system, but I couldn't. Work was too hectic to allow for me to run home for lunch and put on a fresh patch, and putting one on at night would've ensured a massive surge into my bloodstream too close to bedtime, and I've come to like my sleep. Plus, with the stress of my workload that day, it had come down to a choice between a cigarette or triple homicide. I actually only wanted to kill one person in particular, but... you know... there can't be any witnesses.

So, I bummed a smoke from my neighbor, and the head rush I got from the first drag led to me promising to name my first child after him. Sure, it tasted like hickory-smoked skunk hair, but it was soooooo worth it. That flood of precious carcinogens had my brain swimming, and I felt like I was kissing God. But, in the morning, I was back on the wagon. No harm, no foul.

I've also been transplanting that bad habit with a new, healthy one: I've been going for walks down at the River Parks. Granted, since getting my sense of smell back, walking around downstream from industrial plants with the low waterline leaving the nastiness fairly concentrated, hasn't been that much of a treat, but that has only helped quicken my pace a bit.

I started out small, a little over two miles per walk, but now I'm up to about five miles four to five times a week. It keeps my mind clear, and I've dropped a couple of pounds as a result. Once I drop a few more pounds, then I'll introduce a little jogging and running into the routine. I've also been capping off my walks with a few push-ups and ab crunches.

Walking around the River Parks have also afforded me new opportunities to witness some truly fucked-up things. For instance, there was the guy the other day who yelled at me to mind my own business because I happened to be walking past while he was fingering his girlfriend on a public park bench. I told him, "Sorry, pal, I didn't see the sign back there that said 'CAUTION: Dumbass reaching third base ahead'." Needless to say, at that moment, I quickly added wind sprints to my exercise routine to escape a thorough ass kicking.

There was also the impromptu recumbent-bicycle race I witnessed yesterday; five guys going as fast as they can on bikes that just screamed, "Why yes, I do work as a LINUX programmer! Why do you ask?"

Then there is the morbidly obese couple on the tandem bike that I see almost every time I go out there...really stretching the definition of the term bicycle-built-for-two. All I can do is just marvel at the tensile strength of bicycle frames nowadays.

Finally, and this is just an overall observation: What is truly great about the River Parks is that there are no real social mores in place here. Sure, everybody is really friendly, but looking at some of the things that go on there, I can't help but laugh at the thought that you can do pretty much anything you want, wear anything you want, as long as you make it look like you're getting some form of exercise. At any given moment, you might see some guy running in place, checking his pulse, with a lit cigarette in his hand. You might see a guy testing out his new homemade skateboard, which consists of a palette skid with furniture wheels nailed to it. I keep expecting to come across someone who sees absolutely no problem with practicing his javelin toss near the playground.

Yep, the River Parks...Comic goldmine.

Aug 17, 2008

I claimed this weekend in the name of Fritschie

THURSDAY

My mom came to visit me. We went out to eat at McNellies and had a blast. I made a futile attempt to pay for dinner, but Mom informed me that it's gonna still be a while before I could wrestle the check away from her. In retrospect, I should've put a couple more drinks on the tab, but hey...

FRIDAY

I took Friday morning off so Mom and I could settle the car loan at the bank. But first, we had breakfast at Blue Dome Diner, which is now becoming a tradition whenever Mom comes to town.

I'm all set up at my new bank. Once the checks and debit card are in my possession, I can bid farewell to BOK once and for all. Time for me to bank with people who give a shit about me.

Work in the afternoon was pretty light, and seemed to pass with no problems whatsoever. After work, I went to Target to pick up a few things, and wound up running into a couple friends of mine, so we went shopping together...also gave me a sneak preview of their birthday presents to me.

Treated myself to some Chinese food for dinner. Chicken Pad Thai is my new heroin lately. Then, off to Borders where I bought myself the Watchmen graphic novel. Never read it before, and I wanted to get a copy before they slapped the "Soon to be a major motion picture" label on it. Damn, this is this a good novel, and my expectations are really high now for the movie.

SATURDAY

Brunch with friends at Blue Dome, grocery shopping, and preparing for the party. We had a dive-in movie at Gene's mom's house. We had a screen set up over the pool, and we watched Jaws, the Life Aquatic, and Pirates of the Caribbean. I had an absolute blast with my friends, I grilled up some fantastic food, and got drunker than I have in recent memory.

About 2 a.m., just after we started watching Pirates, I got myself my eight or ninth shot of Jameson's. That's about when things started turning a wee bit fuzzy. I realized that my equilibrium was a bit off, so I decided to sit down. Just then, I had a strange feeling like I was the center of the universe, and by that I meant that everything around me started revolving, with my head being the axis point.

Gee, maybe lying down on the sofa would solve this. Then, the invisible weights were attached to my eyelids. Hard as I might, I could not hold them open. I wasn't asleep...I just couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. After a few minutes, or perhaps an hour Earth time, I became painfully aware of some urgent pressure on my bladder. I rushed myself to the bathroom to take care of the situation, mildly interrupted by knocks on the bathroom door from friends asking if I was alright. I was...just needed to pee really badly, and since it was bad enough that I knew I was gonna be passing out soon, I'd rather not have soiling furniture thrown into the mix.

So back to the sofa, where everything in my body completely shut down for routine maintenance...except for my sense of hearing and ability to understand words. I was incapable of reacting to such stimuli, but I could hear what my friends were doing, and ponder what it will be like to wake up in the morning. The last word I remember was "Sharpie".

SUNDAY

Woke up on the sofa, thankfully still clothed and magic-marker-free. However, I did have about thirty stuffed animals piled on top of me. I'm still unclear how so many stuffed animals became available to my friends the previous night, but i gotta give them all credit for originality.

I took a few minutes to get my bearings back, which was difficult with the four-alarm headache, stiff back and the feeling like the back of my throat had been sandblasted. I had a moment of panic when I couldn't find my camera. It was like, "Oh shit! Someone might have my camera, and by virtue of the digital format not only doesn't have to have the pictures developed, but they might already be plastered all over cyberspace."

I packed up my stuff and drove home, stopping at QuikTrip to get a tanker of Gatorade. I down 52 ounces of that stuff by the time I got home, and went straight back to bed.

I woke up around one, and felt much better; nothing a few dozen Tylenol and some caffeine couldn't cure. So, I went to Alisee Momo for the Tulsa Creative Network meeting, and my buddy Corey hooked me up with some grub and Pepsi. I stepped out for a smoke and wound up having to call an ambulance for a bum complaining of chest pains. Just to look at him, I think a little tightness in the chest was the least of his problems. There was sand and gravel stuck on his face, his clothes were ripped in various places, and it looked like he'd been doing some self-medicating and, as per usual with this practice, seriously got the dosage wrong.

Later, a bunch of us observed my birthday tradition: a movie. Namely, The Dark Knight at the IMAX. Pretty. Fucking. Sweet. This was my third time for this movie, and seeing it five stories tall just kicked ass. What a lovely way to finish up my birthday.

Now, I'm home and using up the last of my cigarettes. Tomorrow, I start off my 33rd year on this planet with nicotine patches and hopes to finally give my whitening toothpaste a fighting chance. Wish me luck.

Aug 11, 2008

Gotta love that new car smell

This weekend, I picked up my new car. It's a maroon '06 Chevy HHR, and oh, how I love it.

Perhaps my perspective is a bit askew, here. I've been driving a 2-ton pickup for a year and a half, with a tape deck, vinyl seats and no air conditioning. Now, I'm in a car with leather, A/C, CD player, sunroof, keyless entry, remote start...all the bells and whistles. I fear I'm going a little mad with power.

When I really think about it, the only perk the truck had over the new car was extra leg room. However, everything worthwhile in life requires a little bit of sacrifice.

I'm buying this car from my folks, or more to the point the BANK is buying from my folks and I'm buying it from the bank. This is my first major purchase in five years that wasn't a verbal contract. On the upside, this is gonna work wonders for my credit. On the downside, it's gonna be much harder to sweet-talk an extension from my debtors.

This means that the budget is gonna be stretched thinner than usual. I'm gonna try to float by for a few months with all of the perks I've grown accustomed to, like cable TV, name-brand cereal and a social life. One thing that's definitely gotta go is the smoking. I'm quitting on August 18, the day after my birthday.

Why not just quit now? Well, because I want to enjoy my birthday to its fullest without having to battle will power the whole frickin' day. Another reason is because i started smoking after a special occasion (Y2K, long story), and I'm gonna quit it after a big occasion. I also plan to quit with the same brand that i started with: Camel Red Lights. Yep, I'm that much of a graphic designer that I chose my brand of smokes by the cool packaging.

This is gonna be a trip; a life-changing experience. An exercise in discipline, and a long-overdue one. Let's see how this goes

Aug 3, 2008

Cars, boobs, beauty, Bub and bed

Tonight was Comedy Night at the Nightingale, and I did a killer five-minute set. I'm still a little buzzed from drinking four Red Bulls at the show (dear Lord, I need help), so I'm gonna be up for a little while.

So, here are the highlights of my week:

1. The plans are set for me to pick up the new car next weekend. My folks have the title in hand, and I need to fix a few things on the truck this week, get insurance set up, and have my folks sign and notorize the title. Then, I'll be good to go, and in debt again.

2. I did my usual Thursday night Guinness night at Arnie's Bar. I took my camera with me, and at some point in the night, a mystery woman took the camera and left me with a couple of breast shots. Two problems, though: First, I couldn't tell whose breast it was...even doing some CSI:Photoshop work couldn't solve the mystery. Second, and this is a note to those wishing to give a guy breast shots on his digital camera: Use the damned flash!

3. Last night was the Ms. Center of the Universe Pageant. I, and Personality of Cult by proxy, helped sponsor the show by designing the poster for the show. The show was great, and speaking as a guy who has worked with real pageants, they did a great job in mocking the process, and I'm looking forward to this being an annual event.

4. This morning, I got a message that my great-uncle Bub passed away. I'll have to check with my boss tomorrow and see if it would be possible to take off for the funeral. However, the truck may not be long-trip worthy until I can get the repairs done Thursday night. We'll see.

5. The Red Bull is finally wearing off, and now, I'm off to bed.