Archive for March, 2006

You lose some. You win some.

Friday, March 17th, 2006

For those who see me on a regular basis, much of this blog will likely be old news. In fact, if I were them I’d be downright sick of hearing about it. Those around me probably haven’t even noticed that I purposely haven’t said anything about it in a blog until this point. But I’ve done so on purpose.

That’s all going to end right now because I want to talk about what happened to me today, and I can’t do so without bringing it up. So let’s welcome the elephant into the room.

I’ve lost just about 50 lbs in the last 6-7 months. I did so by following the Weight Watchers program and regular exercise. This is the second time I’ve lost a considerable amount of weight in my life (the first time was the end of college), but this time is different for a number of reasons:

1) I’ve gotten to a lower weight than I did last time, and I’m still going.

2) I actually followed the Weight Watchers program this time instead of reading the material and then starving myself.

3) I realize now it is something I can’t just "get off of" once I reach a certain weight. I am committed to eating this way for the rest of my life. Seriously.

.

So why do I not want to talk about it? Mainly because I don’t think it’s a big deal. It’s kind of like when people cheer or applaud someone who’s had a baby. I don’t get that. They’ve just performed a basic function of human existence, so why is that an accomplishment? In a similar vein I think eating right and staying in shape is a basic thing that most people can and should do. So for me to finally get back off my ass and lose the weight I need to lose to live a long and healthy life isn’t really an accomplishment, its more like: "It’s about damn time."

Just for fun here’s a little pictorial collage of me in the last 12 months.

April 2005 (my sister Suzie and I at Hollywood and Highland):

Jonapril05

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

May 2005 (my parents and I at a Giants game in SF on my birthday):

Jonmay05

.

.

.

.

.

.

October 2005 (about 2 months in/20 pounds lighter; Kelly and I at Halloween):

Jonoct05

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

December 2005 (about 30 pounds lost; Christmas in Florida):

Jondec05

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

February 2006 (about 45 pounds lost; the most recent picture I can find; Jung, Matthew and I at a bar):

Jonfeb06

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Now that is in the open, I can discuss what happened to me today. I went to get my suits tailored (since I lost all this weight), and the one I bought in OCTOBER for Halloween (even after I lost 20 pounds) is apparently too big to be tailored! Yeah it’s the one pictured above.

Gah. And that’s the suit I said: "the hell with it", and got the expensive (for me) $350 one.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You see when I bought the suit, I was still afraid to get a suit that fit me perfectly in case I gained any weight. So I got the next size up and had them fit it down to my size. Now that decision has come and bit me in the ass.

But I have to bite the bullet and go buy a new suit, cause I really like having a black suit (and that was the only one I had).

Live and learn, I suppose. I got to use the suit a couple times (Halloween and going to Club 33), but now it’s getting retired into the closet under the dark presumption that I might again someday gain a bunch of weight.

As if to alleviate my pains about blowing $350, I got a letter from the IRS today telling me that (even though I used a professional tax preparer) that my refund is apparently $3k short. So I’m gonna get a whole lot more back than I thought.

Very nice. At the end of the day, I’m left feeling pretty good about it all.

This blog is now 100% commited to “24″ Analysis.

Tuesday, March 14th, 2006

Okay, this blog isn’t necessarily just supposed to be me talking about TV shows, but 24 has again gone and done something this week that I cannot simply sit idle and let slide into history uncontested.

So yet again, if you haven’t watched this week’s episode of 24 stop reading right now and go paint a wall, or perhaps learn how to use a pogo stick. Anything besides scrolling down and reading.

Seriously.

Stop.

Reading.

Now.

You’re.

Pushing.

It.

Dangerously.

Close.

To.

The.

Edge.

Whew. We don’t like those people anyway; they were just holding us back.

Pardon my french, but what the f!ck were the writers of "24" thinking when they punked Tony F-in Almeida like that? Weak. Weak. Weak.

This is the mo-fo who has survived 2 bombings, being shot in the neck and drinks beer from a CUBS mug in the middle of the day when most people are working. That’s right. He pours beer out of a perfectly good bottle into a MUG. And not just any mug, a Cubs mug. The baseball team that epitomizes suffering.

And those pussy-ass writes went and had him offed like that? Stuck with a needle? A bullet in the god-damn neck couldn’t kill this guy!!!

I mean, sure, yeah, the guy who did it is Robocop. If anyone can apparently ignore the effects of a metric ton of drugs pumped into their system its gonna be Robocop (either that or Steven Tyler). And perhaps Tony was weakened from his coma and trauma over losing Michele. . .BUT STILL. WTF?

The freakin’ hobbit got to go and save Jack Bauer. It is a rare honor to save Jack Bauer; perhaps more special than meeting with the president or inventing electricity. And they give it to the hobbit and not to Tony Muther-F!ckin’ Almeida?

Why did they even keep Tony alive after Michele died? He didn’t do anything at all! Why bring him back just to get figuratively kicked in the nuts? Why not just let him die holding his wife in his hands, by getting cooked to death by a fiery inferno?

Why, why, why? 

All I know is that Tony better rise from the grave as a zombie-Tony, a robot-Tony or something like that. And then he better damn well get to die for real this time saving millions of people or Jack Bauer. Those are the only two outcomes that could possibly exorcise the disgrace the writers have bestowed upon Mr. Almeida currently.

Until that happens, I want everyone to bow their heads and give Tony Almeida a moment of silence. Then look up only with your eyes (do it now you sissy), and whisper "yeah!".

This beer in a Cub’s mug is for you Tony. Have a safe voyage into the great beyond.

.

.

P.S. Yes, I do have issues separating reality from fiction. Its only a problem if someone gives me a weapon, so no worries everybody.

The Cold War is over.

Sunday, March 12th, 2006

I’m here to announce today that the cold war is over. From here on out I will be posting my blog on both Friendster and MySpace. Although tensions have run high in the past between the two super-powers, I’m confident that my bold attempt to start a lasting peace will be successful.

Finally now my friends on MySpace can enjoy all the wit and intelligence that I’ve been intermittently spreading around Friendster for months now.

If you feel the need to leave me a comment letting me know that some other douche-bag you know has already done such a thing, please, don’t bother. We all know that anything I haven’t read before doesn’t actually exist.

With that out of the way, let’s talk about what I witnessed tonight. Nothing spectacular, just one of those everyday life moments that stick in your mind for whatever reason.

.

Sunday March 12, 2006.

Location: "Sav-On" in Marina Del Rey.

Time: approximately 8:30pm.

Scene: I am at the checkout sliding my credit card through the reader, while the neurotic indie-rocker clerk makes sure I’m performing this complex action correctly. Behind me, a mother with two little boys stands in line.

One of the little boys notices a Coca-Cola mini-fridge conviently located within the confines of the line. He moves towards it.

Boy: Mommy, I want some water. Mommy, I want some water. I want some water.

He looks wistfully at the fine selection of "Dasani" ™ plastic bottles contained within the fridge.

Boy: Mommy, I want some water. Mommy, I want some water. I want some water! I want some water!

His mother, obviously having built up an immunity to just this sort of nonsense over the years ignores his ever more intense pleas. Meanwhile, the boy has now opened the fridge door and is grasping at some of the bottles as though they contain some magic elixir that can cure him from a life threatening disease.

Boy: Mommy, I want some water. Mommy, I want some water. I want some water! I want some water! Mommy, I want some WATER! MOMMY, I WANT SOME WATER! I WANT SOME WATER!!!

I have finished my transaction and begun to walk away from the register. The mother, finally needing her children to move forward in the line, figures it must be time to actually acknowledge that her child has repeated the same sentence at least two dozen times in the last 30 seconds.

Boy: MOMMY, I WANT SOME WATER! MOMMY, I WANT
SOME WATER! I WANT SOME WATER!!!

Mother:
No. We have water at home.

Boy: Okay.

A Chupacabra then leaps from aisle 6 (deoderant) and mauls the whole family. With that, I leave the store confident that something that silly can only happen in real life. You just can’t make that shit up.

.

.

P.S. Some liberties may have been taken to make the story more dramatic. For example, the "indie-rocker" clerk was really just some guy with a tatoo on his arm. Not the Chupacabra part, though. That absolutely happened.

No More Funny!

Wednesday, March 8th, 2006

My Blog updates have become too infrequent, and they don’t seem to actually include many details about myself. I think that’s because I’ve been putting too much pressure on myself to try to make a humorous entry. If I can’t think of something I think will be funny, I don’t post.

The obvious downside to that kind of thinking is that if I can’t think of anything humorous, then I don’t update the blog for a month+ at a time. I’ve decided that kind of aggression will not stand, man!

So I’m gonna mix in some regular ‘ole "what did I do today/this week/this month/who died/was born/mutated/got married/etc" blogs. I hope you’re ready because it’s starting TO-day.

First up on the stream of consciousness: I was watching the TV here at work with the sound off and I saw a funny "lower 3rd" on the screen. Those are those graphics that pop-up during newscasts that give you some information about the person speaking. They say:  "Joe Schmoe: local hero", for example.

Well, this must have been a story about a court case involving some women, because there was (apparently) a lawyer on the screen, and his lower 3rd said (I’m making up his name because I don’t remember it):

"Joe Lawyerman: Attorney for the women"

I thought that was absolutely awesome. I think he should make up business cards that say exactly that:  "Joe Lawyerman: Attorney for the women (as seen on Channel 4 News)".

.

.

Besides that, the only other thing that I have to mention was this week’s episode of "24". If you haven’t seen this episode yet, for the love of god don’t read any further.

I’m.

Serious.

Don’t.

Read.

Any.

More.

Okay, now that we got the lazy Tivo junkies out of here, I just want to tip my forty over for my poor man Edgar Styles. First his mom was killed by Terrorists and now the big guy suffers the same fate all before getting the chance to hook it up with his dream girl, Chloe.

Sometimes TV can be so cruel. . .

My opinion on this season of "24" has gone up and down more than a Paris Hilton home movie (ba, da, bump. . .ding!), but I can safely say that the last couple of episodes have got me pretty riveted.

From Jack Bauer shooting Robocop’s wife in the leg, to the glorious return of the lovely Kim Bauer I can safely say that I HAVE BEEN ENTERTAINED.

And at the end of the day, that’s all you can really ask from the ‘ole idiot box.

Talk to you soon.