How to build a sandwich

I saw something strange today. Actually, I've seen it many times before, but only today did it occur to me that I might comment on it.

We have this sub sandwich shop called Quizno's here. I don't know if it's national, international, whatever, and it really doesn't matter. You might have seen what I'm talking about.

They have a sign hanging in the "ordering area" that's apparently a suggestion (or dictum, even) on how to order a sandwich:

1. Select bread.
2. Select size.
3. Select contents.

Or something like that. So I'm supposed to say, "Whole wheat. Regular. Italian Meatball." Sorry, but that's not how poeople order sandwiches. Try this: "I want a medium Italian meatball on whole wheat." Doesn't that sound more natural? I'm guessing they formulated the awkward sandwich-ordering formula to match the actual sandwich construction procedure taught to the employees. It's easier for them ... they don't have to listen to entire sentences, and all that high-brow crap.

"I'll have a medium Italian meatball on whole wheat, to go."
"Ok, and what kind of bread would you like that on?"
"Uh ... whole wheat. Italian meatball. Regular."
(At this point I was attempting to follow the procedure. Unfortunately, I effed up the last 2 steps.)
"And what size?"

And so on. You get the idea. I did finally escape from the place with my sandwich, though there was a bit of confusion at the cash register. A woman and her daughter had entered the shop, actually after I had placed my order. We ended up at the register at the same time, expectantly waiting for our sandwiches to emerge from the Quizno's Bat-Irradiator. My sandwich emerged. All nice and toasty and everything. The young gal wrapped it up and set it aside. I have my wallet out, and am getting ready to pay. I wait. The sandwiches that the woman and her daughter had ordered emerge. The gal starts wrapping them up. Me to myself: "Oh, I see what's going on here ... they think we're together." Sure enough, the sandwiches are ready to go and the gal starts listing all 3 sandwiches. "Um, I'm alone," I say. The woman next to me says, "Unless you want to pay for ours!" A hearty chortle was had by all. Initially I was getting kind of irritated, since I hadn't eaten for about 8 hours. Hunger can do that to you. If I wasn't so desperate to start eating the sandwich, I might have said, "I suppose you want me to follow you home and take your garbage out, too!" Oh well, shoulda-coulda-woulda.

I can't believe I made a whole post out of that. Wait till something actually interesting happens!

Goals for this year.

1. To develop a "posse" or aquire "peeps."
2. To give "shout outs" and/or "props" to 1.
3. To become a "pundit", "maven", or "aficionado" of something.
4. To place "the onus" upon someone.
5. To get "my jollies."
6. To have "my druthers." (may be closely related to 5.)
7. To storm off in a huff at least once per quarter.
8. To "keep it real" in spite of 7.

I envision the satisfaction of a few of these rolled up into one event. In my fantasy, the corporate-wide announcement goes something like this:

"Please join me in congratulating Mr. inBOIL on his promotion to Master of Space and Time. He has been a programmer with us since 2003. He will assume his new duties beginning December 1st. Please note that going forward, The Onus will be on Mr. inBOIL, though he may place The Onus upon others at his discretion. He will have His Druthers on a weekly basis, and, as a bonus, he will be getting His Jollies each pay period. As per company policy, his benefits now include 4 floating Haughty Days and a quarterly Storming off in a Huff."

Eavesdropping on those zany conversations.

"Anyway, the fence guys left these little chunks of Sakrete all over the yard. Damn near ruined the mower blade. Took me an hour to clean it all up."
"What's 'Sakrete'?"
"It's this sugar-free concrete they came out with in the early 70s. Turned out it caused vaginal warts, though -- even on men -- so they had to take it off the market."
"Nice. Hey, park right there."
"No, let's drive around another half hour to find a space ten steps closer to the entrance."
"Yeah, I agree. I get enough exercise already. I was out doing yard work yesterday, too."
"Wow, you must be exhausted. A whole hour sitting on a riding lawn mower."
"Hey, eat me; I was also doing twelve-ounce curls."
"My sincerest apologies. I've misjudged you."
"OK. I'll accept your apology in lieu of eating me.
"Good. I'm not much of a cannibal."

Random thoughts

(10/20/2004 11:00am)
I decided against posting further cleaning updates and highlights; it was just too sad.

Instead, I'm going to use this post as a notepad for my thoughts during the day. It's a kind of experiment, see. Here goes . . .

(11:03am)
I need to see another political ad like I need another crack in my ass.

(5:52pm)
Wow, I actually found work to do (translation: reading someone else's posts between mind-numbing sessions of code-diffing (you don't need or want to know what that is)). I'm going home now. I'll see if I'm able to continue this from there.

(5:57pm)
Oh, one thing before I leave: I don't own a "ride" or a "crib;" nor do I wear "bling"; I don't have "peeps", I never "keep it real"; and I don't ever want you to "peace out."

(Next day, 7:13am)
As you can see, I wasn't able to continue this from home. Let's try it again at work.

(1:37pm)
Twenty-three minutes until the meeting . . . nothing useful can be accomplished in that time, so . . . hm, the fabric covering this cube panel would be perfect for a meditation room; that is, it encourages the eradication of all conceptual thought. Excellent for the workplace! I can tell you from experience that the last thing a computer programmer needs is conceptual thought.

(10/21/2004 02:52pm)
Just start typing. Write something, anything to get the brain going, the pulses flowing, the fungus growing. "Kanga-back, jute-back, and monkey-back!" Guy's name was ... Dave something? No, it was Mike something.

jute
n.

1. Either of two Asian plants (Corchorus capsularis or C. olitorius) yielding a fiber used for sacking and cordage.
2. The fiber obtained from these plants.

Is this like hemp? In that case, they left out "doobage".

(10/22/2004 02:07pm)
I may just have to wrap this up and call it a post. Jeez, is any of it worth reading? Who cares, it's a diary. To my knowledge, only one person has ever read it (other than me). I'll give myself until the end of today to finish this with something "totally boss".

(4:02pm)
Forget it. I'm working on a separate post now. This one is done. Bye.

This is a sample of the results of last weekend's cleaning. "That's clean?" you say? You haven't seen the "before" pictures. And you never will, because I didn't take any. So there.

But these will be the pictures for this weekend's cleaning, so you have something to live for.

You're welcome.

Good lord . . . my first post in almost 2 months and I decide that my cleaning adventures are interesting?? Has it really come to this? Apparently so.

I'd be more of a hoot if I was sleep-deprived and delirious. Sorry, this is all I've got right now. I promise it will get better.

UFOs, ghosts, and such

I was just listening to the George Noory show. It used to be the Art Bell show, but now he just does it on weekends or something. Either way, I adore that show. You hear some of the most consummate nutjobs on there. I just heard this guy who apparently has an ongoing relationship/dialogue with an alien race, and he referred to quartz crystals as "the teardrops of the gods." What more do I need to say?

I've never seen a ghost or a UFO, but I know plenty of people who know someone who claims that almost for certain they've heard of someone who knows someone who may have seen something.

Another really good talk radio show is the Phil Hendrie show. I had no idea what the premise was, but I actually believed it the first time I heard it. Hard to explain, but if you get a chance to listen to it, do so. It's pretty funny.

I guess I'll add links for George Noory and Phil Hendrie.

Don't get me wrong ...

I was looking back over some of my posts, and I noticed my use of the term "Jesus shows." I have no doubt most anyone who reads this knows exactly what I'm talking about. I don't know why I have this sudden urge to qualify my statements, or even to be "apologetic," but let's get something straight: I'm not anal enough to be an atheist, and I'm not needy enough to be a born-again Christian. I'm more of a Zen Buddhist. Which means I pretty much accept everything. Course, that disqualifies me in the eyes of many, because what is the purpose of religion if it doesn't involve condemning others in order to make yourself feel better.

Here's an example: A couple of years ago I worked in downtown St. Paul, Minnesota. I had a contract at a local parking ramp, so I generally parked in the same place every day. At the time, I owned a fairly large SUV. One day, I returned to my vehicle after work to find a note under the window wiper. I wish I still had the note, because the original text would be much more effective, but it went something like this: "Two days in a row you've parked next to my car, and I've been barely able to get into my car. [something about parking too close to other cars, etc., etc.] I will pray for you so that you will be more considerate in the future." Is that the most passive-aggressive thing you've heard in your life? "I'm pissed off about some dumbass thing, but if I say that I'll pray about it, it makes me look just like Jesus. And that bastard with the big truck look like a sinner."

I wish I had written a reply note: "And I will pray that you mature in your relationship with your creator, so that you realize that a minor wrinkle in your day doesn't mean that the devil is working through Joe Blough, and that poor Joe will most likely go to hell ... unless you pray for him enough."

It wasn't necessarily that she didn't have a point. I had a pretty large vehicle, and I'm sure it may very well have caused some inconvenience for her. But it wasn't like I pulled up and said, "Hah! There's no way this lady is going to be able to enter her vehicle! If I do nothing else evil this day, at least I can rest knowing I caused something akin to pain!"

This is the problem with getting too religious and too pure. It disconnects you from being a human. "I'm going to heaven and you're not." This doesn't go much beyond a two-year-old mentality (see my "Assholes" post).

Oh, by the way: I no longer own that large SUV. My current vehicle is constructed from my own fingernail-clippings, and it runs on farts and gopher-snot.

Anyway, peace be with you.

Wow

Gee, someone actually called my bluff on the dog pictures. So here I am, delivering said pictures.

This first one was taken minutes after we wrote the check for the ol' boy, which was in May of 1996. The second picture was taken in Florida sometime ... oh, probably about 2000.

Arlo puppy

Arlo in Florida
Does this mean you'll read my next 6 posts??

Assholes

Ok, here's my schpeel on the etiquette of interacting with your fellow human beings:

I first noticed this attitude while driving. I later realized that it extends to every situation where you have to interact with your fellow humans. The grocery store, K-mart, the DMV, Subway ... you name it. There seems to be this attitude that can be characterized thus: "I am outraged because, while in public situations, every element of the situation is not perfectly arranged for my total convenience and satisfaction." Another version is: "It really irritates me that I'm not the only person in the universe." This attitude doesn't come out of the blue. Anyone who's raised a child has recognized this attitude vividy displayed at ages 2, 3, 4. I'll qualify this by admitting that I haven't raised a child; but I know many people who have, and I think everyone has heard of "the terrible twos."

So why do people conduct themsleves as 2-year olds in public? I will note that there's a drastic difference between driving and other types of situations. In driving, people's dark sides emerge in full. It's like they're playing a video game. There's some kind of definite psychological thing about being enclosed in a steel box.

I don't really have any more to say about this. It seems I like people less and less as time goes on, but I'll add this: "That which you hate most in other people is that which you fear most in yourself."

Deep, huh? Anyway, let's try to quit acting like assholes.

Mouse in my house

I had a mouse infestation in my house about ... oh, maybe a year ago or more. I found this picture today and decided to post it. This little guy was brave enough to pop up on the kitchen counter ... looking for treats of some kind. I haven't seen mouse-sign here for a long time, but I wasn't really upset by this little guy. I was thinking of a way to persuade him that he'd be better off roaming the open plains than trying to chew his way through tupperware to eat my chocolate chip cookies.

I think I might have something to say about driving etiquette; and more generally, about interacting with your fellow humans on a daily basis. Not in this post, though. I need to think it through.

I've been operating this music device for the last few hours. I'ts playing a CD of songs created by me and friends.

At the same time, I was playing trivia (online trivia thing ... did I mention that? Oh, I didn't? Well deal with it.) when I went to check out a favorite blog. I guess it's time to figure out how to place a link on my blog. I'm sure that by the time I finish this post I'll have figured it out, so go visit the link.

Ok, so let me sort this out. It has something to do, initially, with the music being played upon above pictured device, and something to do with trivia, the Dalai Lama, and cable Jesus shows. But the Jesus show ended, and then there was a show that claimed that the answer to everything was the B12 pills they were selling. That seemed much easier than Jesus, so I went with that.

At any rate, go visit the Yarn Lady. I'll eventually establish the link.

I think I know what the problem is.

I think the reason I don't know exactly what to do with this blog is that I'm not sufficiently impressed by anything (positively or negatively) to go into any kind of depth on it. Hmm, what's that about? That's not a good sign.

Let's see here ... I'm watching a local cable channel that is showing some kind of outdoor concert. It seems like some kind of Cajun-type band. Lots of people dancing. Let's see ... ... ... nope. I have nothing more to say about that. Rats, this sucks. Maybe blogging is not my bag. "Oh, come on, Steve! Pick yourself up and dust yourself off! Give it the old college try!" I hope to hell they aren't referring to my college career. Ah, what the hell. I got a decent job out of it. There we go. This blog will consist of me arguing with my voices. If I start to sound dangerous, like I might hurt myself or others, please call 911 and tell them "This guy Steve in the midwest is losing it. Get there as fast as you can!"

I'm going to end this now and try to find some inspiration for another post later.

Terminator!

Well, I've found something else to post about. This is actually more about a friend of mine than it is about me. He's a whiz with art materials, etc., etc. A number of years ago he created these makeup appliances which are based upon The Terminator. I've chosen one of the pictures for my official profile photo. He actually had to make a plaster mold of my face to do this ... just like hollywood. Here's another photo of that effort:

Disclaimers: 1) That is me about 10-15 years ago. 2) The visible eyebrow is fake ... it's part of the makeup.

It's difficult to see in this photo, but if you look at the full-sized version of the profile photo, you'll see the glowing red eye. My friend installed an LED in the appliance, and there were wires leading from behind my ear down to a 9V battery in my back pocket. It was halloween, by the way, so I could legitimately roam about town like this.

Bribery

I've come to the realization that I don't have a clear idea of what I want to do with this blog. I should have been born 20 years later. I have all sorts of things that I wrote down in notebooks during my 'teens and twenties that were (possibly) blog-worthy. Hell, maybe I'll dig some of them out and type them in here. On second thought, scratch that. I just remembered what it's like to read something you wrote 15 or 20 years ago. It goes something like this: "God, what a clueless nitwit." I'm certainly not going to post those things so that you ("you" being anyone I can force/guilt into reading my blog) can hurl similar or even less nicely-worded criticisms. In other words, I don't want to turn this into "Here's what I would have blogged if I could when I was 14." It was probably a lot of stuff about girls. Nothing you haven't heard before. Well, that idea didn't last long.

I've got it! I'll post a picture of my dog. If nothing else, I can string people along by promising more pictures of him.

Ha! Now you're hooked. I'll make a deal with you. You read the next 3 posts, and I'll post another picture of him after that. This is great! I hadn't considered bribery before. I just assumed I had nothing to bargain with.

Let's see. I bet I can come up with something else . . .
Nope, that's it for now.

Dirty morning

So that's what that candle looks like at 8am on a Sunday morning. I don't remember the last time I was awake at 8am on Sunday morning, much less able to operate a camera. Don't tell anyone where you heard this, but a sneaky way to get up at 8am on Sunday morning is to not go to bed on Saturday night.

Okay, today I mowed the lawn, pulled weeds, built a fire in the back yard, listened to the dog snuff around the yard in the dark; I saw the Milky Way, the Big Dipper, and a meteorite.

Later, I received an email entitled: "Notice - Your computer is dirty."

Twelve years of therapy down the tubes.

There we go!

Sunrise - Aug 13, 2004

That wasn't too difficult. Now I can add pictures. This is the picture I intended to publish earlier this morning.

Now that everything works I can start making posts that are a little more interesting (to me, at least).

Well, then

That didn't take long. Apparently I can put pictures in here too. Let's give that a shot. Let me see if I can find something interesting to take a picture of. Hold on just 5 or 10 minutes.

Oh, wait. Ha Ha. You're just reading this so you don't have to experience the time. Lucky you.

Ok, now I know more. You can't just paste pictures in. They actually have to exist somewhere else on the internet. I don't have that right now, so you're just going to have to wait.

Lucky you.

begin

The deeds were done and done again as my life is done in watermelon sugar.

I have to go reply to something now but maybe I'll write something else here in the near future.