Monday, July 18, 2011

My Strange Addiction

I’m sure the title of my blog is copyrighted by the network with the weirdest show on Television, TLC. Oh well. In case you haven’t seen this show, you really only need to watch it once to comprehend what I mean by weird. A lady with 52 rats as pets. A girl who has eaten drywall for 7 years and never bothered to look up what ingredients are in this outstanding delicacy (i.e., fiberglass, toxic chemicals of sorts, etc). The former was the rocker, the latter was the shocker, and now I’m about to give you the show stopper...a guy who breaks into people’s homes and pulls hair out of shower drains. I couldn’t have made this up if I tried, really. Oh, and the longer and slimier, the better.

After first watching this show, I thought of a couple things I’d like to see on My Strange Addiction in the future. Like, I think it’d be really cool if they could find a person who collects people’s asparagus pee. Does organic asparagus pee smell different than that of the frozen Trader Joe’s brand? I also want to meet a family who never speaks to each other, but only sings all of their interactions like they're on Broadway...even when arguing. They also flash the lights in the hallway to symbolize their anger.

I could go on for hours, but I’m starting to get anxious. Why, you ask? Well, it’s been about 5 minutes since I started writing this blog, which means it is 5 minutes away from my girls. Ya know, the US Women’s National Team. They have effectively entered my life and become my strange addiction. I know it doesn’t sound that strange yet, but it’s because about 14 million people per second were probably semi-addicted to them last Sunday too. Yes, I know this is how many people were watching the World Cup on Sunday courtesy of a retweet by @AlexMorgan13 from @ESPNResearch. My addiction didn’t stop, though, when the Japan player sealed the PK deal…in fact, it was moderately close to the beginning of me hitting rock bottom…which is most certainly where I am now.

In my head, I’ve been going through the criteria for Alcohol Dependence just to see if I really have developed an addiction. Basically, I’ve just substituted “stalkUSnationalteam” for consume alcohol. Let's see what happens...

Do you stalkUSnationalteam in dangerous situations? Yes, I drive and refresh my Twitter so I can see what hotel the team is staying at in NYC.

Do you spend a great deal of time involved in activities associated with stalkingUSnationalteam? Yes, in fact I’ve done that for at least 3 hours today. I’ve been to dinner on YouTube at Abby Wambach’s house in Rochester, NY and watched her family interview her. I listened to a song about Megan Rapinoe. I found out that Ali Krieger has a brother named Kyle and he was “the most amazing brother” when he flew all of the way back to Frankfurt for the finals…he is “so proud” of Ali.

Do you find that you stalkUSnationalteam in greater amounts than you plan to? Duh. This certainly wasn’t planned, because I’ve never stalked before…well, at least I’ve never been arrested for stalking.

Have you neglected social and occupational responsibilities as a result of stalkingUSnationalteam? Certainly. Dissertation progress = notsomuch; I didn’t go get drinks with friends tonight…instead I hung out with the US National Team…well ok, you might not call it hanging out but I do.

Has stalkingUSnational team caused you social problems? No, but after people read this, things could potentially get weird. My dogs have stopped licking me too.

Do you continue stalkingUSnationalteam despite physical or psychological difficulties? Psychologically, the anxiety stays away as long as I maintain contact...not sure if that's a difficulty Doc. My back hurts though from sitting in this chair for hours and I’m still seeing what my girls are up to every few minutes. Also, I haven’t eaten but am drinking a glass of red wine, because Abby likes red wine. She had it when the Rampone family came over for pasta dinner. Yeah, I guess not eating is physically unhealthy, but so what if I'm waiting to eat from the Wheaties box with a pic of my girls.

I think I’m gonna stop there because I’m actually creepin’ myself out a bit. I’m sure my mom will call me later and be like, “Your blog just was kind of...weird this time.” I’ll just say, “Well, I bet Hope Solo is weird too...have you seen that cra cra look in her eyes?”

Seriously though, I think it's time for an intervention. God, wouldn't that be the best intervention ever?? The girls reading me their letters about how my addiction has affected THEIR lives in the following ways...

Friday, June 17, 2011


To the chagrin of my millions of fans, I haven’t written a blog in a minute…so, I’m going to satisfy the masses today. I really don’t have a particular story to tell which might be a first for me, but I’m about to transform this toolbag at the bar here into some material.

He’s the only person in here other than me. Tortoise shell sunglasses, attempt at a breezy button up shirt, Birkenstocks, windblown brown curls. He’s got this annoying voice – like a feminine version of Matthew McConaughey…basically a girly southern drawl. He hasn’t stopped talking since he arrived, literally, and he’s averaging a beer every 15 minutes. I’m sitting over his right shoulder, unfortunately, which enables me to notice him “casually” looking over at me after each sentence, because he thinks everything coming out of his mouth is so epic. He also keeps calling the bartender by her first name, even though she clearly isn’t a fan. Every time he looks at me, I ensure that I have a seriously contorted work face so as not to suggest that I will ever change my mind and become interested in what he’s talking about. Fuck, he just asked me a direct question...

Now, he is talking about his “athletic” dog. I mean, how do you know if you have an athletic dog? They all run fast, and most of them jump and catch balls in their mouth. So, what the hell makes his dog athletic? I’m not going to ask…oh wait, shocking…he just gave me some info to answer my critically important question. His dog can apparently “swim for a whole hour in the ocean”. Woah, an hour, like 60 minutes. Fish must be so athletic. After 5 minutes, I’m already over this character…any more direct questions, and I’m just going to say, “I’m not sure.” Unfortunately, that response didn’t work for “Do you live around here?” Ah, the joys of men with families…would love to meet this guy’s wife and kids; she either sucks or doesn’t really exist.

Speaking of dogs though, there is this really funny YouTube video called Ultimate Dog Tease. It’s funny until drunk people start loudly imitating the human voiceover of a dog cry. Last night, these two dudes kept doing it over and over again and telling me that they were going to create a human parody of the video and post it on YouTube. I mean, all you can say when somebody makes a comment like that is, “Wow, genius idea. I bet not one of the 41 million people who have viewed that video has thought of that. Simply genius.” By the way, an ambulance just drove by. I bet this guy’s dog is drowning from the swim. He’s gonna have to change that mutt's name from Lebron to Adam Lambert. Speaking of the toolbag again, he just informed the bartender (while of course looking over at me and laughing) that he saw his first naked woman in Jaws. That explains a lot.

I guess my work face isn't doing much to deter this guy, so I’m gonna call it quits and leave you today with a few really helpful life hints:

1) Prosecco is a great hangover cure…except when there is a bug in it

2) Don’t eat Cheerios if you don’t want to eat bugs…when they harvest the grain, there are bugs everywhere (this hint comes courtesy of toolbag)

3) If you ever write a song, don’t call it “Birdsong” and have lyrics that say, “Hey little sparrow, when you come around, leave me your sweet song, and a feather crown.” This just makes you seem weird, and gets you a huge Pandora thumbs down…just saying

4) Don’t watch the US Open if Tiger isn’t playing. You will be so bored.

5) If you are a man sitting at the bar alone, don’t ever say, “I have a bunch of pre-teens at my house.” Like, ever. (This hint is courtesy of me in honor of toolbag).