Mon, January 19, 2004

After being mired in catch-up work for the first two weeks, my 2004 is finally getting started, and I have to say it's shaping up mighty nicely. First of all, the quality of the writing on this website has received a much needed shot in the arm in the form of a birthday gift from Arksie and his better half, the inimitable and radiant K-licious. They handed over a copy of Chuck Klosterman's book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs as their tribute to the anniversary of my goo-covered entry into the world – it's a series of short essays about popular culture, with plenty of sarcasm and witty turns of phrase. I read a couple of entries before bed every night, and Klosterman is inspiring me, educating me, and all around ruining my shit as far as how much better I could be doing with the writing around here. I'm feeling a triumphant return to my former glory in the making.

Not today, though. Today I'm writing about mushy, boring stuff like feelings and happiness. (You have to start somewhere.) It's pretty rare that I find myself skipping any more – and not just because of the inevitable sack beatings that would result if I did it in public – but I have to say that this weekend I found myself sorely tempted to do just that. You see, I've been a little buried with work since I got back from the holiday break, and so it's been a tad stressful. I booked a day at the spa for last weekend, and then they forced me to reschedule for this weekend, which couldn't have worked out better because it enabled me to finish all my work and set it aside before indulging in my day of relaxation.

And what a day it was! It began with a relaxation massage. Actually, that's inaccurate; it began with some quality naked time in the jacuzzi in the men's spa – and we all know how much I adore that! Then, it was down the stairs of Burke Williams's elaborate labyrinth of hallways and tunnels to the massage room. It's like a role-playing game in there! I mentioned that it had been a stressful few weeks, so I was probably tight. I had no idea! I think at one point, she brought in a jackhammer for the back of my neck. Afterwards, I just felt like a sack of pudding. But it was facial time! Anyway, I'll skip all the silly details, but it was a day of much-needed pampering and there are all sorts of special tools and outfits; it's a very impressive operation. In fact, the manicurist – my spell checker says, antichrist? – told me that they have over 300 employees working in three daily shifts of 90 or more. Wow! That's not an impressive operation, that's frickin' Disney World! Clearly there are new passageways and secret levels that I haven't unlocked. Maybe if I can win the silver key...

After that, it was time for some shopping. I had a few things to pick up at Best Buy (more on that another time), and also groceries to get. After yet another confusing trip through Ralphs (the strike continues to keep certain sections of the shelves inexplicably bare), I headed over to Trader Joe's because of Andy's recommendation. But not before encountering a full-on balls-out scavenger hunt by a bunch of Jewish couples in their mid-40s. Accustomed to seeing 13-16 year-old girls engaging in running, giggling, Polaroid-snapping scavenger hunts? Me too! But this time it was chiropractors, accountants, and mothers who make their sons feel uncomfortable about their girlfriends even though they mean well. One very cute mom in casual slacks, a shoulder-padded blazer, and three-inch heels came sprinting over to the candy rack near where I was standing. From what I gathered, her list included gumballs, so she grabbed a bag and then took the rest and hid them behind some marshmallows. Feisty! I flirted with her while she did so, so that she would know I was available to have sex later if necessary, but she clearly only had eyes for Manny. Probably for the best – I was probably flustered by the reality-show levels of frantic dashing and devilish scheming.

But, like I said, off to Trader Joe's, someplace Andy has been begging me to visit for months. Over dinner on Thursday, he recommended their frozen coconut battered shrimp, and I am always looking for things to cook which require minimal cleanup – balling up a piece of foil and tossing it in the recycling is about as minimal as you can get! Once I got in there, it was hilarious how quickly I got excited about everything. Philosophically, I'm not a big fan of Trader Joe's because in my superficial understanding of the thing, they're all communist hippies who don't believe in cows or sugar or the stock market. It turns out I may have been overreacting a little because they had lots of fun heat-em-ups! I went in looking for just one thing and I ended up freezing my little armadillo hands carrying around five or six frozen entrees. It was the trip back to the parking lot that made me feel like skipping. It was an exciting feeling to have so quickly quintupled my options for upcoming dinners at home, and it had already been a very good day. (I told you the stuff about feelings would be boring.)

In closing, I should mention that Andy has likely also achieved the title of Best Birthday Present I Ever Got. There's a story behind this – when isn't there? When I was around seven, I was famous for having referred to a gift from my grandparents as "Not the best birthday present I ever got." Yes, in front of them. Right after opening it. Come on! I was seven! And that's a period in your life when you're getting a lot of fun toys and things like that. And they gave me a game called Junior Trivia, which consisted of Trivial Pursuit-style cards for kids my age. As it turned out, my sister and I had a lot of fun with that game (a few years later, when we'd learned a lot about the world, we knew all the answers; so, the game became getting the right answer exactly – as in "The Treaty of Ghent," not "Treaty of Ghent"), but at the time, it was like school. My mom had given me countless plastic toys that either turned into something else or shot at something that turned into something else, and my grandparents had given me... flash cards. So, in my youthful ignorance of gift etiquette, I was a little too honest. You know how darned the things are that kids say – they're the darnedest!

Anyway, Andy took me to dinner at PF Chang's on Thursday, and gave me another book for my birthday. (I say "took me." I mean he drove me there. We still went dutch. Whereas Arksie and K-licious treated on Wednesday. It's perfectly all right, but it's very Andy. He's a fantastic guy, but you wouldn't accidentally call him "thoughtful." Now, before I get an angry phone call, I should explain. I'm not saying he's a bad person. He's exactly like my dad in this regard; very nice, sweet as the day is long, but rarely thoughtful. In fact, they're alike in many ways: tall, dark hair, impossibly lean, rakishly handsome – okay, I'm just trying to get on their good sides – and very set in their ways. In fact, Andy is in his mid-50s in just about every way a person can be while still being 26. Andy isn't quite as funny as Dad, but he shouldn't take that too hard – it's like saying someone isn't quite as Bruce Dern-y as Bruce Dern. The point is, these are both wonderful men. They are kind and compassionate, and they'll bend over backwards to do you a favor. In fact, I owe Andy my life. But thoughtful is doing nice things on your own without being asked, and it's not their forte. It's not everyone's. That's fine; I'm not the sort of person who holds that against a good friend. It's not a character flaw, it's just a fact of life. I adore Andy, but I don't expect for him to call out of the blue with an offer to go rollerblading when I'm feeling down. In fact, I have proof. Once, in college, he and Arksie and I attended a meeting of some sort of Baha'i student group. I started feeling sick and had to leave early; I ended up being violently sick in the elevator just within earshot of the assembled Baha'i. Someone came downstairs, and brought me back up, and let me wash up, and then I left to walk home. Andy, fed up with the religious group, was leaving anyway, so he was going to "walk me home." He did so at a distance of about a block and a half ahead of me. I always kid Andy about this, and – obviously – bygones, but I think it makes my point.) I'm about to contradict myself a little, though, because Andy's gift was pretty thoughtful. He gave me Giraffes? Giraffes! by the McSweeney's gang, which pretends to be an educational nature book for young children but is actually packed with silly misinformation. For example, giraffes arrived from Neptune on conveyor belts about six thousand years ago. This is a truly hilarious book, a fine work of performance art (in a way), an inspiration for my own silly writing, and by far the Best Birthday Present I Ever Got. (Now, you may say that its thoughtfulness is diminished a tad by the fact that Andy "short-stopped" the book on its way to me. That it's like giving me a bowling ball with "Andy" inscribed on it. In that case, take it up with Andy – I'm through beating him up.) I do have to add that one of my favorite games is to pretend that Andy and I are a gay couple when we're out about town. (Using phrases like "out about town" is a big part of achieving this effect.) From our mannerisms, physique, and the fact that we're an all-male twosome, everyone is already thinking this anyway. So, I'll just say something to the checkout guy at PETsMART like "He hates this shirt." It's all in the name of fun. So, it was hilarious that, after I implemented my clever ruse to ask our waitress for extra rice so there would be plenty to box up later, when the boxing-up actually occurred, they put all of the rice in one box. PF Chang's just assumed that we were going home together. Surely, everyone dining there who saw us drew the same conclusion. Hee!

I'm way off the subject. Obviously, I'm almost as giddy as I say I am. I've randomly spewed nearly two thousand words on the subject. It's shaping up to be a pretty lovely year so far, and in fact I can't foresee any major disappointments until at least November, so I suppose it's a good time to be giddy. Thanks for the great birthday, everyone! And Andy, spot on about the Trader Joe's – I should've listened to you sooner.

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