Triple standard...

You know what I don't understand? How every action I make has a second or tertiary meaning that I am wholly unaware of. Actually, now that I think about it, it seems as if my actions have primary meanings I'm unaware of, and the significance I do place on these actions is apparently the second or third.

Allow me to paint a picture for you. I'm at the birthday celebration of a friend of the gf; not exactly the closest friend - so there probably won't be a load of people there she knows, let alone me. The gf and I sit down at an already situated booth. After a couple of minutes of mingling with the rest of the tables' residents, an unknown, attractive young woman comes over with a round of shots - shots which had been ordered before we sat down there. As such, there weren't any for us, which is obviously understandable. After the shots were taken the gf starts the round of introductions, after which it is discovered that there is one shot left over. At this point it should be noted that I was seated inside the booth, with the gf at the aisle. Well anyway, the woman hands the left over shot to me, which I gladly accept, me being an alcoholic and all.

At this point the gf starts being stand-offish, offering comments such as "I shouldn't have drinken that", which at the time caused me to look around at all the other recipients, checking to see if they were still conscious... Had the shots been poisoned? Was this mysterious woman recognized from America's Most Wanted? These were the things seriously going through my head. Well the gf wasn't really talking to me so I just started talking to the other table residents, no big whup (the mystery woman included - hereafter known as Aerith).

Several minutes pass and I come to find myself in a heated discussion with Aerith about whether beer or hard liquor gets you drunk faster, and I have always been a staunch proponent of the equality of various alcohols, provided they're consumed in equivalent ratios, so as I'm about to go into my spiel about BMI's and capillaries, she insults my beloved Bud and says I should try whatever monstrosity she was drinking at the time if I want to try a real drink. Always game for a debate, I - again - accept. At this point I hear a gasp and "Gideon!" coming from my gf. I look over, expecting to hear some juicy gossip as I take a sip. As I set the glass down she storms off as I thought to myself, "you call that a drink? I once chugged a cup of Black Label just because I didn't want to carry around the bottle anymore..." Then I thought "hmmm... maybe I shouldn't have taken that."

I could go on, but I'll simply present our eventual debate (I don't have arguments, I have debates). Her points were:

• I never should have accepted the shot, on the grounds that she didn't have one, she was introduced to Aerith before I was, and Aerith had to reach over her to put the shot in front of me, which leads me into point 2
• Aerith was obviously hitting on me, and I just sat there and allowed it; even instigating it at times.
• I accepted a drink from a) someone I didn't really know, b) a woman, c) a woman, in her presence, and d) a woman I didn't know, in her presence.
  

My counter-arguments were as follows:

• I'm conditioned to doing rounds of shots. When with my crew or hers, if a round is bought, by whomever, they are consumed without question.
  
• A shot costs an average of $10. If someone offers me a shot, 9 times out of 10 I'm going to drink it. That offending 10th being if someone already tried the shot and as a result of not liking it, spit it back into the glass.
  
• We were introduced as a couple, why would I assume some chick would attempt to usurp that, in such an obvious manner? I don't know how your estrogen infused brains operate! (It should be noted that these are simply paraphrases of the arguments)
• Would it have been different if it had been a guy that gave me that initial shot - all other events being equal?
• Would I have reason to be upset if this hypothetical guy had given her the shot instead (with or without reaching over me to get it to her)?

I had already awarded her the argument that I should have declined the second drink as circumstantially valid.

I won't get into the result of the debate, but when exactly did I lose the opportunity to accept a drink? When did unfaithfulness become a one-sided affair? Some would say these things occurred the moment we decided to "go steady", so to speak, and I can even understand the rationale behind that line of thought. I like to believe, however, that I have a choice in any potential extraneous relations, should they occur. Declining a drink from a random woman across the bar is one thing, but accepting one from an established acquaintance-in-law is another matter entirely, and should not bring about the belief that numbers will be exchanged once one party excuses themselves to use the bathroom. That's where trust issues come into play, but I won't cross that bridge at this point either.

I guess what it all comes down to is I'm sick of being told what I was doing or what I should have seen or the like. In retrospect, I assume that Aerith was, in fact, hitting on me (and really, can you blame her?) but I was not responding in kind, regardless of my actions dangnabbit. Can't a brotha be friendly without repurcussions anymore?

A chip and a chair...

So the legend is true. I just came back to win a poker tourney after being down to 1 chip (this chip representing 1/10 of the small blind). I'm not even sure how or why I wound up having just that chip, but I'm pretty glad I did. Usually when I'm at that point I just throw it into the next hand, regardless of what it is. This time I decided against it, probably because I was watching a movie at the same time and I didn't want to start another tourney.

I've gotten fairly good at online poker, and it seems to even rub off in the real world because in every instance in which I've played in a real casino in the past year I've cleaned up. It's a shame those instances are so few and far between. (Though I have yet to play in a casino in the continental US). One of these days I'm gonna enter one of those $1000 tournaments. And after I bust out in the 8th hand, I will summarily enter another one immediately, crap out after 3 hands, and jump off a bridge.

Also, on a random side note, I'm pretty sure you can make a consistent profit in super-turbo sit-n-go's just by blinding out.

The Real McCoy...

So Josh seems to think that he's the one with superpowers. Well little did he know that I decided to finally get a physical yesterday. It's been about 3-4 years since my last one. Why you ask? Well the answer to that will be revealed soon enough...

So I'm getting some bloodwork done, and the flabotamist is having a tough time getting a sample. She keeps sticking the tube in me but nothing comes out. She says that it's probably because my veins are collapsing, but I know the truth. This certainty became even more evident when, upon finishing her duties, she attempts to apply an adhesive bandage, but alas; There is no wound. My arm is entirely unblemished, even after all the repeated injections.

And you have the mutant healing factor. Ho ho ho, my dear friend, I think not.

With great power...

I came to an uncomfortable realization the other day. In two separate conversations, with two separate individuals, I made references to choices that I have made - or will make - using reasoning like "I try not to do too much strength training so my body remains lithe", or "according to my research, you can survive a 3-story fall if you...". It was shortly after that second statement that the epiphany occurred.

In my heart, I honestly still want to be a superhero.

Like, truly. Thinking about it now, the signs are all there. The research on night-vision goggle prices. The perching on rooftops looking out over the masses (working in construction helps out there). The planning of escape routes in different parts of the city. I've apparently been planning this for years. I've always kind of known, but I just thought it was a silly hobby. Now I know it's not. At some point in the near future, evil must be vanquished by my hand - or I will be considered a failure.

I already have my costume picked out. I figure something along the lines of Solid Snake, except I would wear a mask, of course. My identity would have to be kept secret because of my quasi-mortality (I'm still working on a serum to alleviate that) and my loved ones.

I would not use firearms in any way; silent weapons only, like swords and telekinesis. (Mental note to investigate the possibility of fire arms, though). I will also use some sort of portable version of the man-cannon, of my own design.

I would also have a monkey assistant - trained in aikido, though I haven't completely thought that aspect through.

Be cool

I don't pay utilities in my apartment. As a consequence to that, building management controls when to switch over the central ventilation system to AC. They usually do it on memorial day, but perhaps because of rising oil prices they have yet to do it.

It has topped 95 every day this week.

This is not a good combination. There's a desert/rainforest effect going on in my pants. It never stays any one ecosystem for any discernible length of time. It's pretty much pot luck.

As a result of this, I refuse to go home after work. And really, wheres the best, cheapest place to spend a disturbingly hot day? That's right, the library. I decided to go to the movies, however; books are for squares.

So in 3 days I've seen Zohan, Indy 4, Speed Racer, Baby Mama, and What Happens in Vegas. I was fairly close to seeing Redbelt as well, but I was getting sick of whoppers (the delicious malted candy, not the delicious flame broiled patty). I'm pretty much movied out at this point. Luckily, I didn't feel any of them were a waste of time. Speed Racer did seem to have a few too many anti-capitalist monologues for a kids movie. Fortunately there was a chimp.

Now I'd say I'm pretty caught up this movie season (I think the only movie I wasn't able to see thus far was the Forbidden Kingdom). This weekend I'll probably catch the Incredible Happening. Both of them have the potential to be good, but the buzz on M. Night isn't too promising, nor is the buzz from Ed Norton. We shall see...

New movie idea...

I saw this really good pitch online, and I may steal it for myself if enough people agree with me regarding its potential for greatness:

"I just had a dream last night about a movie I want to come to theaters called Suicide Horses. It's about people jumping out of planes on horses to their tragic deaths. Here is a visual of my idea:





Maybe an alternative title could be Skybiscuit. I think it would be an amazing and tragic movie to watch skitty [sic]."