Great Times and Bad Hot Dogs.

Sunday was the night! Lizzy and I went to the WWE RAW wrestling matches at the Prudential Center. I bought tickets from D&G tickets and they delivered! We were second row ringside. The trip was awesome. We took the train up to Newark and walked the couple blocks over to the Prudential Center. When we got there, we entered into the building and no lines for us, we walked right to the floor seating section. Did I mention the seats were amazing!?! We got there about fifteen minutes early and the place really filled in as the wrestling began.

Watching the athleticism of the men and women in the ring was spectacular. As fake as wrestling is, there is no doubt that most of the people in the ring are talented athletes. By most I'm excluding some of the guests, like that ogre from NY, Snookie (who by the way did not show up at the Jersey venue).

Lizzy's eyes were as wide as saucers the whole time. WWE RAW truly is amazing entertainment. The performers kept the entire center hopping and involved. The wrestlers all did their rounds, slapping hands as they went by but poor Lizzy kept getting passed over. I sent her to the crowd control fence when Randy Orton and John Cena went by. She disappeared behind the crowds and I could only keep track of where she was by her bright pink shoes. She would come back and say daddy, they leaned right over me and were inches from me, but they didn't slap my hand. The last wrestler of the night to walk by was Triple H, Lizzy ran to the gate followed by a ton of other people. I saw Triple H hug one of the children, but did not even ask Lizzy if she slapped his hand for fear that, though so close to her heroes, she did not get to slap hands with any of them. 

When the matches were over Lizzy and I went to the concession stand. They didn't have any crowd control or any Triple H shirts in Lizzy's size. She was bummed, but I got her a 'I Was There' shirt, a Randy Orton Necklace and a WWE yearbook instead. As we walked back to the train station, she seemed tired and a little cranky. When I asked her if it was everything she expected, she said, “Yes and no.”, she didn't give anymore details than that, the wind completely fell out of my sails. I went from being super dad to the guy who killed the Easter Bunny in just three words. 

We were a block from the station when she looked up at me in some strange realization and said, “Daddy, Triple H hugged me.”, she continued walking. I slowed our pace and looked down at her, “Triple H? The Game? Hugged you?”, my mind raced to remember as he went by. I saw him hug a child, but behind the crowd could only see the blond hair and Lizzy was wearing a cap. I thought about the fact that I had to tell Lizzy to pick up her cap that had fallen behind the crowd control gate and my mind put it together, Lizzy was the child that was hugged, that was her blond hair, her hat must have flown off. She wasn't tired, she was in shock, the biggest wrestler of the day hugged her. Her young mind was trying hard to embrace the event, the unlikeliness that she would be the only child in the whole arena that was hugged by the man that would be taking on the Undertaker at Wrestlemania, the man who was The Rock's nemesis (when I used to watch wrestling in my college days), the no doubt future Hall Of Famer. The shock was starting to wear off and her face changed from the tired/shocked look to a look of awe. As we got to the station, Lizzy asked to see the shirt that I picked out at the concession stand for her. She admitted, it was excellent. The train ride was filled with Lizzy texting to her sister about the great time she had, all the wrestlers and 'The Hug'.

When we got to our station, we found the rear passenger door of my Escape wide open. Lizzy in her excitement had forgotten to close it when we left earlier that day. Luckily nothing was stolen.

The only downside of the night was trying to get food. Lizzy was in the mood for a Nathan's hot dog. She never got one. The, as of yet, unanswered letter I sent to Nathan's, that night, follows.

I don't like to bitch in an email, but what I saw this evening was a disgrace. Let me start off by saying, I normally go to your Monmouth Mall location and they do a good job. Tonight I went to the WWE event at the Prudential Center for my daughter's 9th birthday. The people in front of us came back with Nathan's and after seeing them with it, my daughter proclaimed she was hungry and wanted a Nathan's hot dog. The people in front of us commented on how long it took them to get their order. A 10 min. intermission came and my daughter and I bee lined for the Nathan's. I asked my daughter if she would rather have pizza, but she insisted on a Nathan's hot dog. When we got to Nathan's, all of the lines were between seven and nine people long. We got in line and eight minutes later were still in the same spot. A lady several lines to the left demanded to see the manager and complained that she had been waiting ten minutes and the lines hadn't moved. The manager yelled to an employee to get her, her order. The pizza place had funneled through every customer, even the ones who had shed from the Nathan's line and had NO LINE. I asked my daughter once more if she wanted pizza, but she really wanted a Nathan's. Someone came and said that the intermission was over. My daughter and I went back to our seats, missing the first couple minutes of the match that she wanted to see most(She was wearing Randy Orton gear from head to toe). We didn't get a hot dog and ended up grabbing food at a deli on the way home.

I don't want to tell you how to run your business, but somebody obviously has to. I managed a deli and now run a successful small business. If I was half as inadequate as the manager there, I would have been reprimanded or probably even fired on the spot. If you know your restaurant is at an event center filled with children, at dinnertime and the intermission is coming, maybe, I don't know, be prepared. At least serve some people. The manager seemed completely uncaring and the staff looked like statues. I was not the only one who was cursing Nathan's. As we left the line, empty handed, and went back to our seats, there were at least 50 other people in line who left grumbling the same time we did, not to mention the many who got in line after us and left in disgust, before we had the sense to.

Sincerely a former customer,

Tuesday Tips for Living Alone (and even with people) – Taking out the garbage.

No, this is not going to be a political bashing, though by the title, it's iffy. Today is about the wonderful world of garbage and how it gets from point a, your house to point b, the curb. When you live with more than one person, there is a trash day safety net. That is, if one person forgets to bring the can(s) to the street, there are 'backup people' to take care of the task. When you live alone, the backup has crashed and if you forget the task, your front yard begins to smell worse then American Idol's new judges.

There is a bright side to living alone though. I HATE overflowing garbage bags, cans, fill form of container in here. When you live with other people, a centuries old game of 'last piece in takes the garbage out' becomes a daily event. In this game Jenga-like skill is used to get one more piece of garbage into the container. The game continues until the trash bin gets to the point of 'filled ten pieces ago' or explodes with enough force to leave a crater the size of a football field. I don't think that there is a family household in America that does not play this game.

I started living alone and the game ended rather abruptly. At first I actually missed it and would throw random, 'foul shots' onto the floor. Later, I would pick them up in disgust and add them to their awaiting friends, that had made it to their destination the first time, just as I had always done. Eventually, I decided to get rid of my larger garbage can in favor of smaller bags that I could empty more often and easily replenish when I went shopping.

When the kids come over on the weekends, they still try luring me into the game. When I reprimand them and ask, “Can you not see the bag is full? Did you not see the paper towel plop out onto the floor?”. They look at me with confusion. In their mind, I'm convinced that garbage is like cartoon characters, “That Pesky Paper Towel Pete, He jumped out of the garbage boat again. I hear he's armed and dangerous, I better leave him be... on the floor.”.

This brings up the solution for both living with people and living alone. If your problem is living with people who don't understand that the bag's cavity is finite, empty the bag more often; put it on a schedule. Empty the bag once or twice a day whether it needs it not. If it seems like more work, consider what it takes to clean the floor or trash cabinet or crater from the overflow.

If you're single, Look for that one neighbor that thinks he is the mayor of the town, you know the one. He usually lives across from you and complains about all of the city ordinances you've broken by sneezing on a Friday, by an open gate. Chances are, this person lives for leaf collection and breathes garbage day. If you were still in high school, you'd flagpole him (probably by the pole he has in his front yard.). If all else fails, set an appointment alarm on your cel phone (that is what it's for).

I Know I'm a Little Late.

I was going to blog on the President's belief that bullying causes drug use. Of course he then says that he was severely bullied. Is that a cry for help? Does he use drugs?

I Digress.

Today I wanted to write about the horror that happened in Japan. My thoughts and good wishes go out to those who were effected by the earthquake, the following tsunami and the after effects that are still happening there.

I know people are expecting a rant and rave about Toyota and the death mobiles they knowingly sent to America, but everything seems small compared to the forces of nature and the brutal devastation that it causes.

As a race we are resilient and resourceful. We adapt and change our environment; seeing the tsunami as it dragged cars, trucks and houses back into the ocean, we realize that nature will not be quelled. The arrogance of man to believe that he could challenge such a force.

After the initial shock of the event, my heart cracked at the thought of people being trapped. Surrounded by water and yet none to drink. Surviving the initial disaster and hoping for a rescue that in only days would be too late. Nine days approximately. In nine days a healthy adult will likely die without fresh water. The weaker and the children, don't even have that 'luxury'.

If you are religious, say prayers for the people of Japan. If you can donate, do. Regardless look into the eyes of your family and friends. Cherish that which can be taken away so easily.

This weekend the tsunami came up as a topic of conversation between friends. Someone made the comment that says it all. It doesn't matter about the buildings, the trucks, the houses or the planes, they can all be replaced. The people, they are what really matter.

Tuesday Tips For Living Alone - Finding Sh!#

When you live with someone, it is relatively easy to find lost items.

The steps for finding something when you live with someone:

1. You ask other person where lost item is and they swear they never saw it.
2. Look everywhere you might have put it.
3. Think like the other person (may require a brick or sledge hammer) and look where they would put it.

Voila, item found.

When living alone, it becomes much more difficult. This was the case with my dual screen digital camera last night. 

I know I keep all of my cameras in the closet in various camera bags. 

I know that the last time I used the camera was at a wedding. The front lcd puts on a show and is much less intimidating when trying to take pictures of younger children then the jagunda dslr. 

I know I put the camera cable and battery charger with it.

I know it still took me an hour to find it.

The steps for finding something when living alone are:

1. Look where you would have sworn you put it last.
2. Look where you thought you saw it last time you couldn't find something else.
3. Look where you know it should have been put but never was.
4. Go into Navy Seal mode and begin a room by room sweep of the place proclaiming, “Not here!”, at every possibility, until all rooms are exhausted.
5. Stop and tax your already malfunctioning brain by trying to remember where the hell you put it.
6. Start looking in the remote locations, that by some act of a higher (or lower) power you might have placed the item.
7. Fuel an improbability engine with thoughts like; it was raining on Tuesday and I turned a light on, the item must be in the medicine cabinet.
8. Think of the last time you had company and where you put all of the items that needed to be “moved” out of the main living areas.
9. Scour every room, looking in places where the item could not even possibly fit, seething, “NOT HERE!!!!”.
10. Randomly go through the above steps until exhausted.
11. Sit down and contemplate the meaning of woe.
12. Give up on ever finding the item again.
13. Start doing a meaningless task.
14. See lost item while doing meaningless task.
15. Shrug and forget why you needed the item in the first place.
16. Leave the item there so that next time you can go through the same steps.

I know that some of you are saying, "Just be more organized.".  Look at your own homes. Every dwelling has at least one “closet of death and despair” where unused items go to die or much worse, be tortured and left for dead.  It's that closet that you hope no guest ever opens for fear of them being buried alive or drawn in never to be seen again. Basically if you cringe with fear, when opening a closet, that is the one.

The solutions to the lost sh!# problem.

1. Next time you are going to search for something, don't! Go online or to the store and buy a replacement for the lost item. This will result in the immediate discovery of the lost item and now gives you two of them to lose.
   
   
   or
2. Change your life to incorporate a one use/disposable architecture. Realize nothing lasts and after using an item throw it out or donate it. It's easier to find an item in a 100,000 sq. ft.warehouse store than your < 10,000 sq. ft. dwelling.

Self Reflection.

So I was sitting around the co-op deciding what the next upgrades were going to be. It feels like I've been working on this place forever, and the progress seems rather minimal. There were so many small things that needed to get done and now I need to start tackling larger projects. Being a master of avoiding things that I don't want to do, I decided I'd hit the internet. 

Wow, I realized I had not been on dating sites in a real long time. I type in some of the more well known ones like cupid.com and begin doing a search. I check Females, Single, 29 – 41, within 20 miles of where I live, “Search”.

First entry; Sunshine Eyes 18 Brooklyn, Loves to laugh, adventurous, loves to try new things, mister right where are you?”.

First, in what universe does 29 -41 years old mean 18? Second what fold in time and space puts Brooklyn within 20 miles of where I live? Third, I sorted in distance order, how is Brooklyn closer than Red Bank? Well, I got 27 cupid emails and 4 winks. Amazing considering I had none when I first logged on after an insane amount of months and by some psychic dating presence, they all decided to contact me the exact same day and want me to text them back.
Of course texting costs money, do I smell scam? Then to make matters worse I decided to see if they have any speed dating events. That's how I found this site in the first place, over a year ago. Let's see, they do mention speed dating. It's an article saying how speed dating doesn't work. My guess is it probably wasn't profitable enough, so they axed it and now are bashing it.

On to Okcupid.com. Names are close, but this one seemed more interesting when I started signing up for it last year and was referred by a friend. The problem is after hours of answering hypothetical partner what if's, I fell asleep at the keyboard and decided this site was way too much of a hassle. So now I skip all of the questions and start looking on the site. I get an email and think, great, here we go again. Wait, the email is from a staff member. They are telling me that if I submit a picture, I'll be included on more searches.

Awesome, except for one thing. I'm never in front of the camera. Out of the tens of thousands or so photos on my network drives, I'm not in any of them. The only photos I have of myself are me in Halloween costumes or me when I was like seventeen years old. Of course I do have the ones I took for the blog and the one that is on cupid.com, but in those I look like I'm stunned to see a camera or a speed baller coming down off a bad high.

I'm not saying I'm the greatest looking guy in the world, but in pictures, especially self portraits, I look a little more like Joseph Merrick (Ben Affleck's twin brother.) then I'd like to.

I quickly grab my dslr and realize, that without setting up the tripod, it is not the right tool for the job. I try a few shots anyway and realize, I do not have any lenses, that at arms length will look good. No problem I have my Iphone. Taking a picture with an Iphone in anything but OPTIMAL light looks like ass (Steve Jobs face),unless you photoshop the crap out of it. Saying pictures from an Iphone are hip or artsy or cool, does not make you hip, or artsy or cool; It makes you a douche bag. It is equivalent to saying it would be artsy to scribe your bands latest diatribe of unfortunately failed suicide on a wax cylinder.

So now I remember, that while I was replacing (even though I never got rid of any of) my camera equipment, I bought a Samsung dual lcd digital camera. It's the type that has an lcd screen in front for self portraits. Great, now all I have to do is find it. I keep all of my camera equipment in cases in the closet, so how hard could it be? Let's just say, tomorrow's blog will be on just such a topic.

I take a few shots, upload them to the laptop.  Damn, I didn't shave and am wearing my old glasses The glasses are so dirty. I have like 8 pairs of glasses (Strangely, I'm nearsighted but my prescription hasn't changed since I was 15). Problem is that I leave them all over and whichever pair I find first, I wear.

So I get done taking the pictures, upload them and now I'm ready, at least I thought I was. I now have to fill out more essays then any communication major could tackle. Whew, I'm almost done. If I send someone a message, my profile will be 50% complete, time to find a match. I check Females, Single, 29 – 41, within 20 miles of where I live, “Search”.

First entry Green Eyes, 37, NYC, NY.. Wow dating geography sure is strange. 4 pages later and hey, there is a woman within 10 miles of where I live. She has no profile information and has not been on the site since August of 2010, but hey, maybe I should send her a message. 6 more pages later,

wow a real candidate. Lives close, seems intelligent, wow I think I'll message her. Wait, what's this, answer 10 questions on compatibility? OK 10 questions answered, I'm going to send her a text. Wait, take the tests that they took and compare results. Sure.

Well, now I've spent as much time as I'm going to on this site. I haven't found a date, but according to the tests, I'm an OrangutangCat, a centrist who is financially conservative and I'm the life and soul of the party.