I also suck at people

I learned something shocking today.  Are you ready for this?  Are you sure?  OK, brace yourself...

Two of the guys who take the same commuter train that I do are father and son!  Can you believe it?  I'm still trying to get over the shock.  What do you mean, what's the big deal?  My world is upside down!  I kinda thought the dad was gay.  And he still could be.  I mean, fathering a child has no bearing on that, right?  (Ha!  Bearing!  Get it?  Elbow yourself in the ribs for me.)  And I was definitely rooting for the son to be gay.  The son is impossibly hot.  (Son!  Hot!  I'm on fire!  Goose yourself again.)  I mean, male runway model, "Can I wipe your forehead?", opening bars of "Modigliani (Lost in Your Eyes)" play whenever he walks up, I want to be the loose change in his pocket, H-O-T hot.  I know this is a sad comment on my pitiful life, but sometimes I use the promise of seeing him on the platform as a final motivation to get out of bed in the morning when all else fails.  OK, by sometimes, I mean most of the time.

I can't figure out why I'm so upset that he's related to his father.  Oh shut up - you know what I mean.  It just seems wrong to be so enamored of someone (not that I would ever let it show) with his dad standing right there.  Can you imagine if I had remarked to the dad about how gorgeous the son is?  Or if I said something to the son about the dad being gay?  Of course, I don't know either of them anywhere near well enough to have conversations like those.  But I might have in 10 years, and boy howdy, would I have been embarrassed then!

Also, because I am essentially a 12-year-old girl, I had almost convinced myself that the son started taking my train because he is also secretly smitten with me and looks forward to seeing me every morning.  Hmpf.

I'm also about 3% creeped out by the idea of taking the train to work with your dad every morning.  Not your dad, you know what I mean.  I know I love my dad, and that love is inversely proportional to the number of daily commutes we share.

Speaking of beauty from afar, did I mention last Thursday's fundraiser?  It was a night of two things I hate: jazz and people.  But it was also the only thing Mrs. G wanted for his birthday.  (The actual request was that I a) buy the tickets and b) attend.  I hate having my loopholes anticipated.)  And since he did such a nice job with my birthday, I was happy to oblige.  Also, I really like the friend who runs the non-profit, and I think she and her co-workers do amazing work.  Anyway, there was a silent auction.  I suck at auctions.  But I did find one thing I liked a lot, so I bid on it.  And for the rest of the night, no one else did.  Sweet!  Meanwhile, a friend and I spent the last hour or so admiring a random stranger across the room.  He wasn't handsome necessarily, but he oozed sexy, you know?  So with about five minutes to go in the silent auction, Unhandsome Sexy Man jacked up the price on my item beyond what I was willing to pay.  So I still suck at auctions!  But I got his name and phone number.

Too bad I didn't have it the weekend before.  We went upstate to hang with the Best Gay Couple Friends.  Mrs. G was rooting around the refrigerator.  I was talking to one of our friends...

Mrs. G:  Go put the sheets on the bed.  I wanna take a nap.

Me:  Do it yourself!  What is this, The Diving Bell and the Butterfat?

We actually had a lovely time.  I'm just too proud of that one not to share.  Feel free to quote me.

Death spirals and small delights

It's been a while since I've posted anything other than a weight update.  I apologize for that.  I'm going through (another) rough patch at work.  I hate blogging about bad times in the workplace because no one cares, and on the infinitesimal chance that a co-worker stumbles upon my blog and recognizes himself or herself in a post, then I've probably just made things worse.  In other words, nothing to gain and everything to lose, so why take the chance?  All  I can say is that the situation is deteriorating rapidly, and I don't know how to turn things around.  It feels like I've lost control of the plane, and anything I do will result in an overcorrection - I crash and burn anyway.

I should find another job, right?  I've been looking around.  The City has a hiring freeze on, thanks to the economy.  The vacancies I've found sound even worse than the job I have.  I've just about decided the ideal situation for me would be a demotion.  When I add up all the things I enjoy about my job, and tally those up against all the things I hate, it's pretty obvious that all the things I hate stem from my responsibilities as a manager, and all the things I enjoy relate to the technical and professional side of the work.  My sense is that many career paths run this course.  In order to make more money, you have to take on more managerial responsibilities, until at some point, you realize you've stopped doing the work you love and become a full-time manager.

Having said that, I'd like to be a better manager.  I think I still have a lot to learn.  Part of the problem I'm having at work is that I'm very good at identifying who isn't a productive member of the team.  I'm not as good at finding ways to get them to be productive.  And I'm not getting any support in disciplining the hopeless cases, who just refuse to work under any circumstance.  They run to file grievances and EEO complaints, and the next thing I know, others are wondering why Grouchbutt has unhappy employees.  What is he doing wrong?  Where there's smoke, there's fire, you know.

But enough of that.  I can't believe that I've let so many weeks go by without talking about the new Pet Shop Boys CD, Yes.  It's pretty awesome, lightyears better than dreary Fundamental.  Much (well, some) is being made of the fact that it's produced by Xenomania, which means squadoosh to me.  But whoever Xenomania are, they've spruced up the sound with a fresh coat of paint.  I know that doesn't make any sense, but that's the closest I can come to describing how I feel.  All the elements of everything I love about Pet Shop Boys are there, and it all sounds fresh and recharged somehow.  Loved the first single, "Love etc."  The second single is "Did You See Me Coming?", and if you like it, then you should, without hesitation, buy the CD.  I like three or four songs better than that one, and I think "All Over The World" is one of the best PSB songs ever.  I hated it the first time I heard it, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head since.  "Beautiful People" sounds like it was written for Petula Clark (in a good way).  "More Than A Dream" and "Pandemonium" are wonderful, bright dance tracks.  I also like the weird, two-step balladry of "Legacy."  The one song that didn't work for me was "Vulnerable."  The lyrics sound kind of forced, and the music is limp.  The chorus of "Building A Wall" is also kind of awkward, but I'll overlook it.  I think one reason I like this more than Fundamental is that the theme is more accessible to me.  Yes is very much a CD about getting older and watching the world change.  Spring for the limited edition, which adds a second CD of remixes, plus a new track with Phil Oakey (squee!).

Weekly weigh-in: Week 18

All weights rounded to the nearest pound.

Beginning of diet:     226 pounds
Goal:             180

End of week 1:    219
End of week 2:    216
End of week 3:    214
End of week 4:    210
End of week 5:    207
End of week 6:    202
End of week 7:    200
End of week 8:    199
End of week 9:    196
End of week 10:    195
End of week 11:    194
End of week 12:    190
End of week 13:    190
End of week 14:    190
End of week 15:    188
End of week 16:    190
End of week 17:    187
End of week 18:    189

Total weight lost to date:    37 pounds
Weight lost this week:    -2 pounds
Pounds to go:         9

Comments:
Went off the diet for the weekend.  I don’t expect to lose much more weight, to be honest.  Any time below 190 is icing on the cake.  That still puts my BMI in the overweight range, and that does bother me a little.  But I don’t really want to make any more lifestyle concessions to get down to 180.  I can live with this.  This is likely the last weekly diet update.  I’ll still keep a log for my own monitoring, but I can’t imagine that anyone, even my blog friends, are remotely interested in these fluctuations.  Thanks to all who provided support and praise - your goodwill really did help me get this far.

Weekly weigh-in: Week 17

All weights rounded to the nearest pound.

Beginning of diet:     226 pounds
Goal:             180

End of week 1:    219
End of week 2:    216
End of week 3:    214
End of week 4:    210
End of week 5:    207
End of week 6:    202
End of week 7:    200
End of week 8:    199
End of week 9:    196
End of week 10:    195
End of week 11:    194
End of week 12:    190
End of week 13:    190
End of week 14:    190
End of week 15:    188
End of week 16:    190
End of week 17:    187

Total weight lost to date:    39 pounds
Weight lost this week:    3 pounds
Pounds to go:         7

Comments:
Back on track.  Not a bad result, especially since I misjudged the arrival of my next Nutrisystem delivery and had to fend for myself for three days.  Saturday was a lost cause (hint: cheesecake), but Sunday and Monday, I surprised myself and probably upset the delicate balance of the universe by making relatively healthy choices.  I’m on the fence about whether or not I want to keep going to 180 or focus more on maintaining my weight from now on.  Honestly, I don’t want to buy even more pants.  My closet already looks like a consignment store.  Plus, I’m enjoying drinking my wages on Friday nights or Saturdays.

That's no lady...

So one of our friends invited us to an event organized by some of his female friends, who are all lovely people, and all of whom are incredibly fun and friendly and nice and sweet to us.  I totally don't want to attend.  Maybe I should go into details?  Or is it enough to say that it falls in the category of Girly Things I Don't Like To Do?  I'm not sure it matters.  My point is, and I do this just as much as anyone else, I think we sometimes confuse being a gay man with being a woman.  Yes, I enjoy penises.  I don't, however, enjoy Sex and the City.  And if we're being perfectly honest, breast cancer is not my #1 disease to Promote Awareness Of.  I'm not judging or saying I'm better than anyone else.  I just think that sometimes people assume that the gays are always up for a girls' night out.  And I'm almost never up for that.  That's all.

Having said that, Mrs. G and I spent the day Saturday with Mom and four of my aunts.  They're road tripping up the Eastern Seaboard.  Mom and her sisters are a riot.  I can't believe I had never heard the story about the time the town drunk offered Grandma a "real good washing machine" in exchange for one of my aunts.  (Mom:  "Mommy always said she regretted not taking that deal...")  And then there's my favorite Grandma anecdote:  she convinced all the kids that noise attracted lightning, so during thunderstorms, they would all sit perfectly still, afraid to move or make a sound.  I wish I had thought of that.

It's a good thing hanging with family doesn't fall under Girly Things I Don't Like To Do.  I woke up on Saturday to discover that our TV was broken.  "Seven-Blink Syndrome" is what the customer service person at Panasonic called it.  So named because the Power light blinks seven times in a row, in a repeated pattern.  There's some debate between Panasonic and my local authorized repair center over who is responsible for curing Seven-Blink Syndrome.  Panasonic says it "may" indicate that one of the panels "may" be faulty, and a customer service manager has to determine how much, if any, of the cost of parts and labor Panasonic "may" cover.  The repair shop says it's all on Panasonic, even though the warranty has expired.  So now I have to fax Panasonic my proof of purchase and await a verdict.  Meanwhile, the TV is still not working.  But the mills of God grind slowly, or something like that.  Process is king.  Customers are a tiresome necessity.

Weekly weigh-in: Week 16

All weights rounded to the nearest pound.



Beginning of diet:     226 pounds
Goal:             180



End of week 1:    219
End of week 2:    216

End of week 3:    214
End of week 4:    210
End of week 5:    207
End of week 6:    202
End of week 7:    200
End of week 8:    199
End of week 9:    196
End of week 10:    195
End of week 11:    194
End of week 12:    190
End of week 13:    190
End of week 14:    190
End of week 15:    188
End of week 16:    190



Total weight lost to date:    36 pounds
Weight lost this week:    -2 pounds

Pounds to go:         10



Comments:
D’oh!  I hit 186 (and the 40 pounds lost mark) last Thursday or Friday before a massive backslide over the weekend.  Went drinking (and eating) on Friday night to blow off steam from work.  Went drinking again upstate Saturday night with friends.  Went out for lunch on Sunday before returning home.  Went on another salted nut snack mix binge.  Should be horrified that I actually put on 4 pounds over the weekend.  Not worried about it, strangely enough.  Caught Mrs. G yoinking my Nutrisystem breakfasts, which I find fascinating and crazy-making because he is ALSO ON NUTRISYSTEM AND GETS EXACTLY THE SAME FOODS IN EXACTLY THE SAME AMOUNTS AS I DO!  I think he has a tendency toward kleptomania.  Mooching makes everything taste better!

Let's talk about estate planning and birth defects!

a.k.a. why Mrs. G is the Worst. Drinking Buddy. Ever!

Mrs. G has a non-linear train of thought even under the best of circumstances, but after we've both had a few beers, I feel like I'm in a David Lynch movie.  Non sequiturs are the norm, and misplaced subordinate clauses and confusingly-referenced personal pronouns are the law of the land.  Plus he uses the time to plan things and talk about Serious Relationship Issues.

And while I'm bitching about Mrs. G, all I can say is thank God he wasn't governor of Texas in the 1970s, because if he were, there would be prisoners on death row whose executions are still in progress because he put dimmer switches on all the electric chairs.  Mrs. G loves him some dimmer switches.  After all, why turn off a light when you can instead keep it so dim that people who aren't in the room can't use it to see anything?  And this from a man who keeps trying to recycle plastic that the City of New York won't accept, because recycling it is easier than throwing it away, and besides, the Environment is Worth It.

But enough of that.  Yes, dear reader, I have a little buzz going.  And I totally fucking deserve it.  It's been a rough week at work.  Everybody's job sucks; I get that.  But most people's jobs suck due to economic uncertainty.  My job sucks because my staff is about evenly divided between long-term civil servants who resent having to work and millennial newbies who are pissed off because they don't have Nobel Prizes for work they intend to do eventually.  And of course, the right thing to do in both cases is to make sure people are working now, which only seems to foment resentment and discontent.  Here's a peek inside the mind of a typical Grouchbutt employee:

"I should have a raise, a promotion, and a window office, plus I should only have to do the things I like to do."
"I don't care if my job title has other duties and/or they need me on something else and/or they don't have any money or window offices and/or my job performance has been woeful for 10+ years or I've only been here for 6 months.  I'm entitled, dammit."
"It's not fair.  I'm filing a complaint."
"What?  I still can't have my way?  Fine.  I'll stop working and/or be a bag of dicks to everyone."
"Disciplinary action?  Are you kidding me?  This must be retaliation because I filed a complaint."

I've about had it.  I think I may be the only libertarian civil servant I can think of.  If shrinking government means that all of these whiny douchebags aren't earning a living off of my tax dollars, then yay anarchy!  Of course, my personal tax dollars probably comprise pennies of any one person's salary, so theoretically, any one of them could give me a dollar and tell me to go fuck myself for the next few years.  But I'm pretty sure that's how they feel about me anyway...

Weekly weigh-in: Week 15

All weights rounded to the nearest pound.



Beginning of diet:     226 pounds
Goal:             180

End of week 1:    219
End of week 2:    216
End of week 3:    214
End of week 4:    210
End of week 5:    207
End of week 6:    202
End of week 7:    200
End of week 8:    199
End of week 9:    196
End of week 10:    195
End of week 11:    194
End of week 12:    190
End of week 13:    190
End of week 14:    190
End of week 15:    188

Total weight lost to date:    38 pounds

Weight lost this week:    2 pounds
Pounds to go:         8

Comments:

Result!  Finally!  I don’t know...I haven’t reached my goal weight yet, but I really don’t want to drop another waist size.  I’m down to 36.  I never thought I could be so excited about 36 inches and be the only person in the room.  And I’m starting to hear things like, “Careful, you don’t want to lose too much weight.”  Maybe I need to start thinking about the weight maintenance phase of my nutrition planning.  I do like the convenience of Nutrisystem for breakfast and lunch on workdays.  Maybe there’s a way to combine that with eating a few more calories for dinners and weekends.

Weekly weigh-in: Week 14

All weights rounded to the nearest pound.

Beginning of diet: 226 pounds
Goal:         180

End of week 1: 219
End of week 2: 216
End of week 3: 214
End of week 4: 210
End of week 5: 207
End of week 6: 202
End of week 7: 200

End of week 8: 199

End of week 9: 196

End of week 10: 195

End of week 11: 194

End of week 12: 190

End of week 13: 190

End of week 14: 190

Total weight lost to date: 36 pounds
Weight lost this week:  0 pounds
Pounds to go:         10

Comments:
Went on a salted nut binge earlier this week.  I regret nothing!  Weirdly, my waist size continues to shrink.  I think.  The skinny pants I bought are now too big, and I'm on the last hole of my replacement belts.  I have no idea what's going on anymore.  I think I've reached a point where I'm going to be less slavish about the Nutrisystem and eat other things every once in a while.  I may not lose another pound.  Or I have a tumor.

On grooming and the follies of man

I went to the barber yesterday.  I love the shop I go to, but I've noticed the past few times that they argue with me about how to cut my hair.  I love my hair super, super short.  I always tell them to use the #1 clipper guides, and they gape at me and tell me that #1 is too short; #2 is better.  The past couple of times, I've caved and let them have their way, and 2 weeks later, I look like I've just hatched.  Yesterday, I was determined.  I wanted the #1 clipper guides.  I told the guy I wanted my hair really, really short.  And it is shorter, but I don't think he used the #1 guide.  My hair still doesn't feel as short and velvety as I like.  It's disappointing.  I do love the shop.  It has a great atmosphere.  But I don't understand why they insist on not cutting my hair the way I want it.  I did notice later in the day that my eyebrows were longer than my scalp hair.  Eek!  I trimmed them this morning.  Which now that I think about it, is something the barber should have done!  Dammit!

While we're on this topic, I've also noticed lately that my antiperspirant/deodorant isn't getting the job done.  I use Sure Unscented, because it's the only unscented I can find.  I love wearing cologne, and I refuse to have my Vetiver or Boucheron Jaipur mixed in with Right Guard.  Gross.  Anyway, I think I forgot to use my Sure one day, and I was pretty stinky when I got home from work.  As far I as can recall, I have never had this problem before.  My armpits have always brought to mind lavender and violets and vanilla sachets.  But I think this one sin of omission somehow allowed the MRSA of underarm odor bacteria to take hold, because I've noticed a problem ever since.  I'm using different soaps, but I'm not sure it's enough.  I also went to the drugstore and bought five different brands of deodorant to try out.  I'm somehow convinced that aerosols would be better.  The cashier at the drugstore did a nice job of not judging.

I know, I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive.  I like to think that, most of the time, I catch myself or use it for good.  Having said that, one of the ways it manifests itself is on the train ride home.  I get to my train pretty early, so I can usually have my pick of seats.  And I always choose the same one.  For the past couple of months, an older woman with a cane has been getting there ahead of me and sitting in my seat.  It drives me crazy, and I catch myself getting angry with her, and then I stop myself and laugh at what a dumbass I am.  Of course, if I get there ahead of her, I take the seat.  And then she scowls at me!  The nerve!  It was my seat first!