The Benefits of Toothpaste

Most of you think toothpaste is just for people who want their teeth to be shiny and their breath to be bearable to the rest of the world. That's all great, but now it's appealing to the people who like free music. Just last night, I got three (3) free downloads on Aquafresh's dime.

Some of you know my musical taste is eclectic, and while I wish I could say that my downloads reflected that, I can't. I did not download Vangelis, Grandmaster Flash, and The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. My songs were:

"Wouldn't it Be Nice" by The Beach Boys
"Sugar, We're Goin Down" by Fall Out Boy
and "Fields of Gold" by Sting

I think these three songs will be all I listen to for the next month or so. I already burned a CD with nothing but them.

I Give Up

Things and people other than myself who won this weekend:

Air conditioning
I finally caved on my resolution to not use air conditioning for the entire summer. It was just too hot this weekend. A man should not sweat in his own home, I think, so I decided that I'd be better off with the air conditioning, even if that means more than doubling my electric bill. It may have been too late, though; my brain already feels a little fried.

Christine
Christine beat me and Anna Leisa at Star Wars Monopoly. The game probably would have gone til 5 AM if I hadn't sold her all my property for like $1000, but she would have won anyway. It was a pretty good game for reasons I can't recall.

Frozen Custard
Not like I've been boycotting Liberty Frozen Custard, but this week marked the first visit I made there in the eight months I've lived down the block. It was good, not great, but I prefer frozen custard to ice cream, so it's cool.

My Cousin Miles and My Uncle Gerry
I played Mafia with my family this weekend. It was pretty great and a little surreal, what with the old people. Miles was the mafia nearly every single round, and the round he got teamed with Gerry, they took me out right away. Apparently I talk too much.

The Detroit Tigers
Those first two games really pissed me off. In the first one, you get Liriano pitching one of the best games ever--12 strikeouts in 8 innings? holy crap--only to have Rincon allow a winning run for the Tigers in the 10th, and in the second game stupid Kyle Lohse allows 2 runs like usual that debatably lost the game. Why the Twins keep this guy on the team I'll never understand. At least we won game 3, though it makes no sense how that happened.

I Heart Politics

For some reason, I've been reading a lot of political stuff on blogs and in person lately. This confuses me a little because we're not really that close to November yet. But it is pretty hot out, and I suppose it's hard not to babble when you're on the verge of heat stroke.

Normally, I don't like to talk about my political opinions. I have two reasons for this. One is I'm right, and the other is you're wrong. So what's the point? But since some people seem to think they're right, I feel the need to address their complaints.

God gave us the monarchy for a reason and that reason is so we didn't have to vote. He saw the ignorance of the masses and decided something to the effect of, "These people have no idea what's going on, so I'm going to give them a king to smack them in the jaw so they stop yammering like idiots." The monarchy gave us several centuries of peace and good will, completely without the thoughtless mouth-wagging of the mud-besmirched peasants. Good times all around.


And then what happens? America decides they don't want to pay taxes. Well, I'm sorry, idealists and revolutionaries, but everybody has to pay taxes. You'd have been better off drinking that tea. I bet it was good, too. The Motherland makes some great tea. Then the French come along, inspired by America's disdain for luxury food and beverage, and decide to behead their glorious monarchs. And from then on, nothing but chaos.


So here we are in the Twenty-first or Twenty-second century, and we're back to flapping our yaps at leaders because they're the ones who don't know what's going on. Did you ever stop to think that our leaders suck because we elected them? Didn't think so. I say we go back to divine mandate. Like heirs and bloodlines, prophecy, protracted civil wars, and magically bestowed swords.

Max Power

According to one of my coworkers, I'm the most powerful person in my company. Why? Because they like me a lot and they need me for...whatever it is I do, and I don't need them at all.

I don't think it's true, but I'm going to start pretending it is. This afternoon, I'm going to invite my CEO down here--I mean up here--to let him know about a few changes I'd like to see. I'll have the meeting start at 3, but I'll tell him it starts at 3:30, so when he arrives a half hour late, I'll fire him. Better yet, I'll make him a slave in my diamond mines. Could always use more slaves.

Phase 2: get an ice cream machine.

You Had Me at Hello, Wisconsin

Yesterday (and possibly the day before since I check my mail so infrequently) I received two letters from Wisconsin, and my love for the state and the university has grown a few feet taller. First, I opened a thank you note from the UW Foundation that thanked me for my $50 gift to the university. They also gave me a Bucky luggage tag as a token of their appreciation. I have no need for a luggage tag, but I have a great need for anything containing the image of Bucky, so after a moment of hesitation, I fell in love with the tag.

My second letter came from the Wisconsin Union, once again requesting I purchase a lifetime membership. It gave a top ten list of reasons to join the Union, and you could tell that they couldn't really come up with more than two or three, and the only one that matters is the terrace. But then I read one of the lower reasons. It said something like, "You love the Union. Admit it." That floored me. You're right, Union. I do love the Union. So I'm sending in my check for lifetime membership.

You win, Wisconsin.

Dear

From now on, I begin every letter with the word "Dear," sometimes maybe "Dearest" if I feel so inclined. Why? After a long line of getting sick of things (the internet, rock music, facebook, etc.), I am now sick of the word "Hey." Not thoroughly sick of it; it's far too deeply ingrained in my vocabulary for me to disregard it completely. I'm only cutting myself off from it in writing where I can control what I say. While I'm at it, I think I'm going to swear off email all together. And cell phones.

I Just Dropped in To See What Condition My Condition Was In

Last night me and Jess were playing NBA Hang Time, as bros are wont to do, and we sucked hard. Our first game was good--we started out kinda poor as Jess tried to figure out what the buttons do, but then we came back for a dominant second half. Jess ended up making a 3-pointer at the buzzer to force overtime--I stood up and cheered I was so excited--but then we got absolutely killed. Overtime wasn't even an option in the other two games.

What was most disturbing, though, was the spot where you enter your name. I tried to enter "Buttzo," but the game blew the whistle at me and wouldn't let me do it. Then I tried "Buttzy," but that didn't work either. And by now time was running out. I tried simply "Buttz," but that also failed. I finally settled on "Buty," which is so far from what I originally wanted that I nearly cried.

Then we watched The Big Lebowski and ate some excellent Papa John's pizza. It was a night that belongs in dreams, except for that travesty of naming. That part of the dream should be destroyed by evil zombies.

The Longest Punking of All Time

A couple months ago, my coworker Steve changed the color of his emails to teal. Everything he sent showed up in my inbox as teal. Today I just found out that this was a long-running practical joke on yours truly.

Apparently, Steve snuck onto my computer while I was away and changed the color of messages I receive from him. For the longest time, I thought everybody received in teal. But it was just me.

I found out because I tried to change the color of the messages I sent. I sent a message to Steve entitled "Color me Badd," and to add to the embarrassment of that subject line, it turned out I was neither colored nor badd.

Pennies from Heaven

Here at Cigna, we've had a penny in one of our urinals for the last month or so. Until today, I didn't get it. I just thought a penny fell out of some idiot's pocket while he was peeing. I also thought that an idiot was playing with pennies as he peed, and maybe the penny got slippery and he dropped it. But today, I realized it was a joke. A dada inside-joke, as it were.


This particular "work of art" is called Fountain. And that's why a penny in a urinal is a joke.

Changing Horses

I recently read about some English girl in France who got fired for writing about her life on her blog. Not like she just got fired for journaling, but she talked about her boss and her job and stuff, and when the company found out, they got really pissed and fired her. Even though she never named the company, the employees, or herself. Sounds stupid, but that's France for ya.

Anyway, I decided that it might be prudent of me to no longer say that I work at Cigna. I mean, you guys all know that I work at Cigna. You've heard me complain about it. That's old news. New news will no longer include the name of my company.

I would, however, like to hear a case that I got fired because my blog damaged the value of our stock or our company's reputation or whatever. It'd be incredible to hear someone read my Yaris dialogues in a courtroom.

Oh, I just remembered, that chick also got fired for blogging from work. So it's a good thing I live in America.

#2: Justin Timberlake

Many of you were surprised by my sincere Keanu fandom, but prepare to be even more surprised. Not only am I a sincere fan of a "bad" actor, I am a sincere fan of pop star Justin Timberlake.

Until yesterday, my love for Justin was one a part of my personality that I took for granted. But when Anna Leisa and Rachel discovered it, they were shocked. I don't know why. He's a great singer and a great performer. I'd be more surprised if someone didn't like him.

Remember, this is absolutely for real! I'm not pretending to like my boy JT for laughs. And I'm seriously excited for the new album. Because Justin's bringing sexy back.

The Dreams Return

Last night's dream once again featured zombies. More like zombie-like creatures, really. Actually, they were giant ears of corn with arms and legs. There were two of them, and they were total jerks. They looked a little bit like this:

Caucasia, Here I Come!

Just talked to my Peace Corps recruiter, and though the nomination process hasn't officially begun, he has a few programs for me. So it's semi-official (and actually not that official at all): I'm going to Eastern Europe. More specifically, the Caucasus region. Also possibly Central Asia.

Here's a map. By next June (so I'm not leaving til next June), I'll be in one of these countries.

Where Am I?

My friend Anna Leisa (another plug...I'm such a sellout) recently asked me where I have been. As this seems like a question many of you would ask, I decided to have a public response instead of just replying to her.

I've been in the same places I usually am: Cigna, and my apartment. If you don't see me that often, it's because I'm really bad at hanging out with people. I don't know why, maybe it's because I can never think of fun stuff to do. Does that explain it?

Specific to Anna Leisa: more like where have YOU been? Oh, that's right. Everywhere but Minneapolis. Well, I'm sorry I didn't hang out with you in Nebraska.

And if anybody wants to hang out with me in the future, I suggest Summer Music and Movies at Loring Park every Monday for most of the rest of the summer. Starts at 7. And it's free.

The King is Dead; Long Live the King

I'm quitting facebook.

Many great people have quit facebook before me. Dave, Chad, Will, and maybe some others. Did Christine quit? Now my time has come. My reasons, however, are unique. Everybody else quit facebook because it was "stupid" or "distracting," but it is neither of those things to me. It's now become a nuissance with the constant emails about being invited to join new groups. It's also too artificial. Facebook communication/connection is far from real. So I'm done.

What will happen to Flipper and Babar? These magnificent creations will also have their profiles retired. Perhaps I'll enshrine them in a museum or archive of some sort. But that seems much too difficult to bother with.

I would hereby like to thank everyone for making these last two years-or-so the best that facebook has ever seen. While the master must concede his throne, there will surely be another to rise and take his place.

Work

Today, until just now, I did nothing but clean out my "sent items" folder in outlook. Managed to take it from 1100+ messages down to 278. Aside from the fact that I still have an hour to go, this is one of the fastest days ever.

Deciding which sent items to save, though, reminds me who I'm stalking. It's good to keep track of that. Got rid of a few superfluous names, including the probably over-stalked Justin Timberlake and probably under-stalked Martin Landau (who may not be alive anymore). It's time for me to move on, guys.

And while I was looking up a word on Dictionary.com, I discovered a contest where you can enter to win Kelly Clarkson's Mustang. My thoughts went like this:
Thought 1. What?
Thought 2. Um...OK.
Thought 3. Why am I not more confused at this?
Thought 4. Pharaoh is spelled with an "a" before the "o"? That doesn't make any sense.

Shout-Outs

In general I try not to plug other blogs, but continuing in the trend of discussing mass destruction at the hands of Blogger (a la yesterday's post), I present to you Jodi's blog, which is not working for me today.

Reading Jodi's blog is one of rocks of my day. It's one thing I count on. Usually it's a highlight. There's a new post every work day, and I check in right away every morning to see if it's up, and if it's not, I check back in periodically. Sometimes I check back in periodically even after I read the day's post to check the comments or something. It's a consistent and trusted distraction.

But today I'm lost. Every click on that link opens up a blank screen. Not only can I not read it, but I can't use those precious links that I can't find anywhere else. Which means no JLP or Problem with Kevin today either (but I can deal with that cuz it means my computer won't explode with pop-ups, and Kevin's blog has lately been full of some patronizing talk to a cat).

Whatever happens with your blog, Jodi, now you know that I care.

Disaster

Today I figured I'd end my work day with a little John Larroquette Project, but I get no further than "Check out the latest" when the screen explodes with pop-ups. And I mean EXPLODES. They kept spawning, and I kept x-ing, but they won the race by a long shot. Thankfully they quit after about thirty seconds, leaving me with somewhere around 50 windows to close. The funny thing, too, was that they were all little windows displaying exactly the John Larroquette Project site that I visited originally. Under any other circumstance, I would have warmly invited all of you to click on that link I posted above and visit the JLP, but today I'm warning to never click on it ever.

And now that I blogged about that adventure, I don't have time to read the page that I eventually whittled my screen down to. All that work for nothing. But after 23 years, I'm used to it.

Rational Love

I was reading the Wikipedia entry on Revenge of the Sith, and I discovered a link to the entry on Romantic love. I guess I'm not surprised that it made Wikipedia (though maybe I am a little surprised that it was linked in a Star Wars article), but it's interesting to see what the encyclopedia editors have to say. The part I really dig is the list of principles of love. They are:

1. It must take you by surprise (the result of a random encounter).
2. It cannot be easily controlled.
3. It is not overtly (initially at least) predicated on a desire for sex as a physical act.
4. If requited it may be the basis for a lifelong commitment.

I think The Notebook pretty much refutes every one of these. But good try, Wikipedia.

Also, this entry is apparently part of a series on love. My favorite is the one on Puppy love, which says, "Puppy love is an informal term for feelings of love between young people, especially during adolescence, so-called for its resemblance to the affection that may be felt towards a puppy."

To Regulate

Today on my drive home from work while I was stopped at an intersection, I heard a car honk, and I believe that car was honking at me. I looked over at the guy in the car that honked, and he looked back at me. I hadn't done anything that warranted honking, at least I thought so, until I realized the music that I was playing at a loud volume. Every white guy's favorite rap song, "Regulators" by Warren G featuring Nate Dogg.

Good thing I didn't have to regulate, man. Cuz I would have SUCKED. I had neither 16 in the clip nor 1 in the hole, and even if I had that advantage over my opponent, it's a well-known fact that 612 can't hold a candle to 213 on the regulation of things. So Warren G, if you're ever in my hood, you can just go ahead and take my car.

The Cold Hand of Lifetouch

Lifetouch, the company that probably did your school pictures, is celebrating its 70th anniversary this coming week. I have a hard time believing they've been around since 1936, but it's not my fault that their bookkeepers can't write 1986 right.

So since my company lives just down the block from them, they decided to invite us to their fireworks extravaganza on Thursday the 27th. But right after they welcome us to their party, they say that they don't have enough space and that we have to watch from our own property. What a bunch of jerks.

Normally, I would encourage revenge. Instead, I encourage competition. Cigna should have their own fireworks display at the same time. And we should aim our fireworks at their building. Good thing we'll be watching from our property. Who's got the life-touch now, jerks! HAHAHAHAHA! Oh wait, I guess that is revenge. Meh.

My Favorite Phil Collins Experience

Some of you might read that subject line and wonder if I've had enough Phil Collins experiences to have a favorite one. Let me tell ya, I've had plenty. Too many to count, but not enough to wanna shoot myself.

I was walking down my apartment hallway after work, and I overheard a conversation in apartment 3. Apartment 3 is home to my rapper neighbor. He's a really nice guy, and he's got a pretty good flow. But this time, instead of hearing that flow, I heard a discussion of the merits of Phil Collins. A visitor said that Phil Collins was terrible, and my neighbor named a couple good Phil Collins songs to prove that Phil Collins is, in fact, the bomb. I wish I could remember those songs named because neither of them were "In the Air Tonight" or "Salisbury Hill," and neither of those songs prove anything about Phil Collins aside from the fact that he is lame.

Happy Bastille Day!

Ah, there's no day as cherished as July the 14th, the day the French finally shook of the shackles of aristocratic tyranny and...um...put on the shackles of middle class idealistic tyranny and daily executions? That doesn't seem like that great of a celebration.

Actually, French history is pretty much nothing but smattering of blood. You've got the violent riot of Bastille Day, then you've got the Reign of Terror, and then there's the Napoleonic era, which is of course characterized by war and death. There were probably a few years of moderate peace between those things, but overall I don't think the French Revolution is anything to be happy about. I mean, sure, equality, fraternity, and that one other thing, but I assume those things would have been just as good without the guillotine. But I'm not French; I can't say for sure.

Peach vs. Nectarine, Parts 2 & 3

Part 2.

I bought a few nectarines last week. I went a long time without eating them, and they got a little soft, so I thought I'd have to throw them away. But then I had one and WOW. It's probably the best thing I've eaten in years. I can't describe the volume of flavor. Just incredible. So nectarine wins. Granted, I didn't have any peaches, but I'm pretty sure the point is moot now.

Part 3.

Today I went to eat my last nectarine, and it was moldy. Somehow the nectarine leaked. So that kind of ruins my taste for nectarines.

Fickle is such a stupid word.

Bald Eagle, Meet Your Match

For centuries, Americans have debated what should be our nation's mascot. Mostly we rely on our national bird, the bald eagle, but as our nation changes with the times, so must our nation's symbol change. We need an image that we can present to the rest of the world that displays our dignity, our strength, and our endurance. While most people are divided between "beer bong" and "Optimus Prime," we've overlooked this masterful candidate.


Move over, bald eagle.

My Life Without Pocket Protectors

I remember days when there was nothing to do but watch TV in the mornings, and I preferred to watch syndicated episodes of Head of the Class. I don't remember what was enjoyable about the show; I just remember the nerdy kid who got made fun of for having a pocket protector and a calculator. His name was Arvid, and he looked like this:



I also remember becoming a lifetime fan of Howard Hesseman because of this show. That's right, I said I'm a lifetime fan of Howard Hesseman.

Dinosaurs

Dan (my brother) and I always seem to have hilarious conversations. Yesterday at the Galleria, he stopped me outside a store to watch something on the store televisions. When we stopped, the only thing on the TV was a bunch of trees. The following hilarious conversation ensued.

Dinosaur walks onto television screen
BEN: Is that a dinosaur?
DAN: (pause) Yep.
BEN: (pause) Why did you show me this?
DAN: Are you kidding?

The Interview

The straightforward, unfunny explanation of what happened between the hours of 10 and 12 on 7/11.

The interview was almost exactly the same as any other interview. Questions included stuff like, "tell us about a frustrating experience and how you dealt with it" and "what's one successful leadership experience you've had" and so on. There were a few questions about what I might have concerns about in terms of being in a foreign country/culture and different customs, but I didn't have any concerns, so that was kind of boring.

Then they took my fingerprints, so I had red junk all over my fingers all day.


The big updates: where I will be and what I will be doing.

The where is not resolved at all. He only said that the teaching English programs are mostly in Eastern Europe and Asia, so those are likely options.

The what is similarly unresolved. Though I went into it expecting that I'd be teaching English, the interview kind of made it clear that I'd be just as good--if not better--for the community development program. So I have to decide between those two and get back to the Peace Corps guy at the end of the week. And right now, I have no idea.

Exhaustion

This morning I woke up and I could hardly move. My arms--both of them--were completely sore from tubing two days earlier. My back was completely sore for some unfathomable reason. Probably because I slept on a comfortable bed after sleeping on the floor for two days. Then I get to work only to find out that I have to work harder than ever before for the entire day. I did the math with a coworker, and we fiugred we had the equivalent of 5 people doing the work that 15 people are supposed to do. So I answered calls all day. It went something like this:

"Cigna Behavioral Health EAP message center, this is Ben, how can I help you? ... Well, actually I'm just the message center right now, so I can take your information and have someone call you back in less than an hour."

I said that nearly 50 times, perhaps more.


It's funny how that kind of stuff messes with my mind. It seems that I'm only inanely funny when nothing's going on. When days like this happen, I'm stuck in stupid reality. So here's what's going on in reality.

1. Just got back from Will's cabin in the mediocre state of South Dakota. The trip, unlike the state, was awesome. I got to experience Will gyrating, I got to hear "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" sung louder than I thought songs could be sung, and I got to partake in my first frisbee session in months. Some other great stuff happened too, but it's more important and serious, so you probably won't hear about it til I hit Retirement Town.

2. I have my Peace Corps interview tomorrow. If you don't have anything to pray for, you could pray for that. I'm not too nervous, but I'm worried that I will be nervous, and that's making me nervous. Dead serious. At least I took the day off for it and won't have to deal with answering calls.

It kinda sucks that real life has only two plot points. But I guess it's better than having too many.

Beauty Is Subjective

Here's how I know that a person's beauty is on the inside, not the outside.

I was grocery shopping today, and I saw this magically beautiful woman: long, red, wavy hair, shapely, etc. Passed her a couple of times, and there was no denying it. But then, as I leave the grocery store, I saw her driving by taking hits off a can of whipped cream. And struggling with it too, like the whipped cream wouldn't come out like she wanted.

Granted, I can't judge if she was chugging Readi-Whip because of an inner self-loathing or because she thinks it's cool. I don't think I care. And it's not like I expect a certain etiquette in women I see driving out of the grocery store. It's just that this girl's outer beauty was not consistent with the inside because the inside was full of whipped cream and high on whatever gas they put in those cannisters.

Also, she might live in my building. I'm pretty sure I saw the same car in my parking lot.

The First Time I Didn't See Fireworks

July 4th, 2006 is the first July 4th I saw no fireworks. I realized this year what I've almost realized many years before: I don't really like fireworks. So around 8:30, I decided I would not watch the fireworks this year, and it was good. I hope you all enjoyed your fireworks. I know I enjoyed my episode of Six Feet Under followed by sleep.

A Big Deal

OK, guys. Big news. I have received two free American Express magnets--TWO--in two weeks. How awesome is that? At this rate, my refrigerator will be covered in magnets before the year is out.

Hey America

Has anyone ever noticed that July 4th is about as bastardized as Christmas? We turned a meaningful holiday into a celebration of fireworks and beer. Is that really what our independence is about? We should be going around exercising our right to free speech, carrying firearms, and kicking military personnel out of our homes. We should visit the representation that justifies our taxation, or, failing that, we should be throwing boxes of tea into the nearest ocean, lake or water-containing place. We should be playing piccolos and snare drums and marching with three-cornered hats. Most importantly, though, we should watch 1776, the most moving presentation of the dreams of our founding fathers (in musical form).

Here's to you Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, George Washington, Cesar Rodney, and so on. Without you, we'd be slightly more likely to have British accents. Cheers.

Peach vs. Nectarine

Will someone please explain to me what the difference between these fruits is? I'm about to get back into the fresh fruit industry, and I want to know what I'm getting into. I like nectarines, and I like peaches, but I can't differentiate. Ah, fresh fruit despair. Maybe I'll just end up with a bowl full of raisins.