Goin' South...

Happy Summer everybody, and I'm back after a week long vacation in the South with some of my wife's family and yours truly in a series of what I like to call, "Trials."

Trial 1: The Drive Down
From point A in NoVa to Point B in the South, we had to cover approximately 600 miles. However, I had to make the trip in a Minivan with 3 kids (8, 6, and 1), a Sister-in-law and my wife. You can only imagine how much fun that was.

Where's my Brother-in-law you may ask? He works for a company based in Europe that could give a God damn about the U.S. Independence day, so everyone begrudgingly worked the long weekend for the Commie bastards.

For most of the trip, the 8 and 6 year olds were busy with their hand held games and their backseat DVD player. Thankfully I had brought my brand new Nintendo DS, and was all set to take the second shift in driving after my Sister-in-law(who has made the drive before) took the first shift until...we went to the local Sheetz for coffee.

I went in and got my rations for the road and came back out while my Sister-in-law stood guard in the minivan with the kids. Then my Sister-in-law took her turn and some stupid, idiotic, bitch bumped into rushing off to her shitty minimum wage job, spill boiling coffee all over her hands. She was mildly scalded and the ice packs in our cooler did the trick, but she was in no shape to drive first shift. Bye-bye DS and personal time to swim in lake "me."

Trial 2: The 4th of July
I basically worked on the 4th of July on what I wished and hoped was my "vacation." Unfortunately, I spent my 4th serving bikers, church-going folk, and teenagers. Basically my Mother-in-law has a nasty habit of inviting a bunch of people over to her house for the holiday, but no clue (or bank roll) to feed the incoming guests. That's where my wife, my Sister-in-law and I come into play, being the rich Yankee folks that we are. (*Sigh*)

Those weren't her exact words, but it sucks to feel taken advantage of when she puts us in this situation and expect us to bail her out and pay for it. Why invite guests to the house with NO FOOD in the house at all! The 3 of us were just this side of a "Stay-cation" and she springs this on us in the morning of the 4th to spend money, 90% of which, I'm not related to!

Trial 3: The Drive Back
This was the only part of the vacation that went off without a hitch. I was given the joyous task of driving through 3 states to get back to NoVa. It may sound hokey, but despite my whiny niece and nephews, it was a very relaxing drive and you get a chance to really appreciate all the beauty this country has to offer.

L8er.

Power Struggle...

I apologize once again for the lack of updates, but I actually have an idiotically stupid reason why: I suck at life. That aside I had the shock of my life on Friday the 13th (*ironic gasp*) only to find that none of my electricity worked in my house. Jammed in my screen door is a note stating that I haven't paid the electric bill, and that they've sent me 2 notices by mail (never received folks!).

So we walk in the house and there's a stench of just non-air conditioned must in the air. Everything that was illuminated and functional was dark and uncommunicative.

Considering the fact that I was batting a thousand by paying the wrong bill instead of the electric bill, my wife decided to make that phone call to the power company.

"Ma'am we've sent you 2 notices of non-payment."

"Really?!? Feel free to take a look at our payment history, we consistently pay on-time and all of a sudden we would just stop paying hoping you wouldn't shut off the power? That would be foolish!" my wife said.

"Yeah your record is pretty consistent."

"Well let's go ahead and pay it now. What's the soonest we can expect power?" my wife asked.

"The earliest we could restart the power would be Monday."

"MONDAY!" we exclaimed in unison.

This is where a fundamental difference between my wife and I showed through.

My theory would be to pay them on Monday to get our service back on Monday. Why give them the satisfaction of getting their money NOW if I'm going to suffer in the house with no power for 2 days?

Her theory is to pay them as soon as possible to get on their schedule to flip our switch on Monday regardless of the fact that we're paying excruciatingly early. Also this included late fees, service charges and a $75 security deposit.

Still I was no position to argue since this was my screw up, so I piped down and gave her my debit card.

"Don't you have anyone that lives close to us that can do us a favor and turn our electricity back on?" my wife pleaded.

"I'm afraid not. The only people we have on call are linemen and they're only trained to deal with downed power lines."

So for those of you keeping score at home, they have trained chimps whose job is to turn electric power to customers in arrears off and on, however; trained linemen who deal with thousands of volts of electricity during snow and thunderstorms are not competent enough to flip a switch and turn on my electricity, at no danger to themselves or others.

Just checking.

**Aside: I have to give this spouse of mine credit where credit is due. She could've flown off the handle, packed her bags, went to her sister's house and asked me to have my things out by tomorrow. She could have gone postal and started a screaming tirade starting with how much of an idiot I am, and ending with how much I'm going to pay for the divorce. She could've vowed to never fulfill her wifely duties for the next 8 months!

She did none of the above. She was "angry at the situation and not at me."**

"So what do you want for dinner?" I murmured.

"I'm not in a good place right now Darian. You don't want me in public right now..."

"Look. I f-ed up, but that doesn't mean we have to starve. Its 85 degrees in here. What's done is done. Let's go to a nice, air-conditioned restaurant and get ready for tonight."

Twenty minutes later, we more or less sat at the restaurant in silence. I give her the benefit that she was trying to make small talk. I don' know whose venom was worse: Her venom for me, her venom for our power company or my venom for myself.

Friday night was nightmare! NoVa was way too muggy to open the windows at night and sleep upstairs so we were relegated to the Basement hotel.

No futons here folks. In our basement/entertainment center we have an electrically dim: TiVo Box, Bose surround sound system, a 51 inch plasma television, a 4-year old overstuffed chair with ottoman and an overstuffed couch.

Given that I had made the error and was in for a hot sticky night in the cooler basement, I took the chair and ottoman and got about 5 hours of sleep and a crick in my neck and back. T, more or less slept comfortably, but only as well as expected considering the circumstances.

Saturday and Sunday we had grown accustomed to our Amish-like lifestyle and mentally we were racing to the Monday finish-line to return to our electric laced lives.

We made doubly and triply sure that they would be turning our power back on consider how early they had our cash. Everything came off without a hitch, but this snafu was something for the record books. I'm going to be hearing about this screw up well into my 70s.

Oh well...L8er.

Idiots say the darndest things...

I wish to expound on one of the points I made in my previous post about some women choosing to pursue me because of the fabled taboo of dating outside of your race. In this short 20 something span that I call a life, there's been quite a few one liners directed at me and meant to be taken as compliments, but are really just outright foolishness.

Now before you jump down my throat and say that I'm playing the race card, allow me to retort: all of these "compliments" were met with the following: a blank stare, a gawk, and a befuddled "wow" and that was the reaction of the witnesses. I said nothing because reacting negatively would further support their skewed view of African-Americans on the whole. I also feel, why waste my breath with a clever retort, when everyone around me feels it's not warranted. You don't reward stupid.

The first liner comes from a chum of mine in college. She lived a very charmed life of privilege and I represented the only sliver of diversity in her existence. I have no beef with her, because we're still close to this day. I don't hold it against her that I'm her only Black friend and never will. We were talking about a race relations class that I was taking and I was merely saying how interesting it became when we began to talk about dating outside of one's race. I said, "My parents basically gave me carte blanche because I didn't date too much in High School, but I don't know how my parents would react." She said, "If I came home and told my parents I was dating you, they would be happy and fine with it. If I came home with any other Black guy...I don't think they would take it well."

Now to her credit, that's not exactly ALL her fault. However, I never looked at her parents the same way again, because it was plain to me that they didn't consider me Black.

However this next example is on the other end of the spectrum. He was a fellow I knew in High School, and he was from a lower middle class family. He has quite a few Black friends but this still came out of his mouth at random. He actually interrupted out conversation with this, "You know what Darian, you're a cool guy and you're a great friend. You're like an Oreo cookie. Black on the outside and White on the inside." YES PEOPLE! I've had acquaintances that actually FORGOT that I was Black.

He considered me White because I had the ability to code switch, I got pretty good grades, and I kept my nose pretty clean. For some reason in his mixed up head, he considered those "White traits." Despite the very fact that he was White, and the exact polar opposite of me.

***aside: Code switching: It's basically the African-American version of Windtalking. It is the phenomena of speaking one way around one group of friends and speaking another way around another separate group of friends; i.e., using inside joke vernacular around your buddies, but not around your mother.***

And the Coup de Grace was in High School again, during Black History Month. The only span of 28 days where we study people that look like me. The class nerd raises his hand and asks, "Why isn't there a White History Month." Everyone in the room grilled him for being so daft and insensitive. But the teacher smirked and said, "We study White People everyday." Then a student chimed in, "Yeah, everyday is White History Month you Ass! Now shut up!"

I've always lived my life as the "exception to the black stereotype". Not "like the others" in their words. I prefer it that way, because the expectations are advertised on T.V. and rap videos that I should be rough and angry. White men of this idiotic mindset automatically think that I'm trying to date their sister, or trying to steal their girlfriend because I'm Black. White women think my "member" is huge, and that I'm trying to get into their pants because I'm a Black guy, and I actually speak to them as people as opposed to sexual prospects.

I can assure you that none of these idiots have affected me to a point where I would stop talking to White people all together. I don't believe in throwing out the baby with the bathwater. One cannot blame the flaws of one person on an entire race. All I ask is for the same patience in return.

L8er.

The Reunion Plot Thickens...

Why is it anything that you happen to do out of sheer nostalgia, like signing up for Classmates.com while in college, comes back like an errant boomerang?

I receive a random message from Classmates.com that "Someone wants to reconnect with you!" Translation = someone you knew in High School is trying to stalk you in the hopes that their unrequited love for you can be fulfilled.

90 percent of the time, I presume this message to be junk mail, however; in a brief moment of weakness, and considering the person I ran into last week, I bit. It turned out to be a girl that I held a huge torch for and she chooses now to tell me that the feeling was mutual. And given: I'm no Brad Pitt or some big, sexy, chocolate piece of Man Candy, but I don't believe I'm hideous!

Also, considering the love connection could have been interracial (**facetious gasp**), the other question I asked myself before deciding not to pursue her was, "Is she looking to date me, or looking to date a black guy."

Now some may say that dating me is dating a black guy, but that's not what I mean. There are some women that I've met that seemed to be more interested in the whole, "Me and you against my parents and the world" thing as opposed to dating Darian, flaws and all. They seem to be more interested in showing you off to her plain-Jane friends that find you so "deep" and "strong and silent" or showing her father just how big of a rebel she can be, but I digress(as always!).

Another question, what is it with women that prefer to give you one last shot at a love affair? Follow up questions, why do they choose to proposition you in your yearbook? It pissed me off that I've been going to school with these women for a minimum of 4 years, and in some cases, my entire school career! You feel heat, and a connection with this woman, but there are obstacles:

• They're dating your best friend
• They're your best friend's little sister
• Your best friend already dated her, and your risk the ire of your best friend and your inner circle

I've been in all three of these situations, and I've never fully acted on any of them in fear of retribution or that it won't work out.

So in the case of this person trying to reconnect with me, she fulfilled the first bullet point. Upon our first meeting, she was dating my best friend since Elementary school. We flirted, we chatted, and I would protect her in his absence, but there has never even one date between us.

Senior year, she hasn't dated him in 2 years and I still never worked up the nerve to ask her out. She then writes the infamous message in my yearbook about how she's yearned for me for the last 2 years, and to "give her a call."

So I go to the Classmates website and find that she's still single, attractive and is waiting with baited breath to see me at the reunion.

Now part of this is my fault. I was the one who didn't "man-up" and ask her out on a date or something. But to be glib, what is it with you women and timing?

L8er.

Everyone has a price...?

Today was quite a curious afternoon. I actually had to only work half of the day today, so I had the opportunity to get a few errands done and managed to get lost on the way to one of them. Anyway, while I was on the other side of town, I went to a small general store owned by one of my clients.

He's a good guy with a wife and child, and in his 40s. I found it curious when he came in with this business idea that he was opening in a neighboring town. His idea was a moderately priced Dollar Store, but instead of importing everything from Asia, he chose to focus on the untapped European exporters. On paper a great idea, but I give him mad props for not being afraid to fail. However, in this economy, Small Businesses, especially Rookie businesses fall victim to the almighty tightening of the purse strings.

So anyway, I always make it a point to visit when I get the chance and do a little shopping at the same time. He welcomed me in as usual but told me he's going to sell the store at the end of the month. Mainly the rent is too high and the income on the store is too low, despite the low overhead.

So while I was checking out, we started talking about fraud and fraudsters in our respective industries. He then brought up a friend and former co-worker of his was caught up in the Tax Fraud Scandal involving the bank manager and the D.C. Tax Office.

"I was just reading about it online, and I just couldn't believe it. She was such a nice person and always treated me great. I guess it goes to show you that everyone has a price," he said.

He continued, "I just hope that bad people never meet my price, because we're all human. If someone asked me to rob a bank for $50,000.00, I would probably call the police and have them reported. If someone asked me to rob a bank for $500,000.00, I would ask 'What bank!?!' "

This made me think, does everyone have a price?

Is the only thing keeping us from a upright citizenship and moral decay a dollar amount? Maybe I'm being a bit to idealistic, but what about the value of one's word? What about doing the right thing consistently? Is it all a matter of waiting for the right ne'erdowell to offer us the right amount of money, and we'll pursue illegality with reckless abandon? Are we all that vapid and morally bankrupt?

I have no idea but it sure is something to think about. Do you have a price or an opinion on this subject? Comment away!

L8er.

Class Reunion...

So believe it or not, my 10 year class reunion is coming up, and I'm not quite sure how to take it. On one hand, I'm excited to see how everyone is doing and catch up on old times; a straight-up nostalgia-fest! On the other hand, I'm a bit unnerved at the prospect of having my lovely wife, T, find out about just how big of a NERD her husband WAS in High School.

The topic of this lovely Shindig came up by accident. I was working my second job, when a familiar face came in to make a return. These situations always seem to put me in a pickle because I've taken a staunch stance on crossing paths with associates from High School: If I recognize someone from school and the other person doesn't recognize me, I don't bother telling them who I am. I feel that saying "Hey, remember me from high school?" is just this side of being the "Creepy guy from high school that just never learned to let go of the past."

The problem is I remember this guy when I was IN high school! I'm unafraid to admit that in HS I was a choirboy, literally! There was a high level of seniority in the choir game, but it was always prudent to pass the torch to the next generation during your Senor year, so in a way you're leaving the legacy of greatness to the Juniors. During my first year in choir, there was guy that left for college, but just kept coming back. I easily saw him 3 times a week, which is normal for the newly graduated. Then I saw him the next year. He just couldn't let go. He came to all of the performances, hid in my choir teacher's office, played jokes, sat in on the class...it was quite sad.

So anyway, I saw this girl from school and suddenly she began to get this look in her eyes...and then she said, "Don't I know you from somewhere?" A part of me panicked. Understand that I enjoy my second job, but not enough to be caught by a girl who was pretty popular in HS to catch me at my second job as opposed to my career where I have a desk, an office, a wedding photo, a job title, you know, any semblance of success!?!

I know what your thinking, "Why do you give a flying fig about an 'associate' you had in HS and what she thinks about you?" That's a great question to which I have no answer except to explain the theory of reversion. It's actually quite simple: It's the way your mother treats you whenever she sees you. She treats you like you still live at home even if you have your own wife, home, income and several offspring.

So now this girl from school decides to go in for the kill, "Did I go to High School with you?" I relent, "yes." She responds, "Wow! You look great! Do you know about the reunion?" I answer "No." She then continues to fill me in about the time and date and asks for my email so she can send me the invitation.

After work and getting over the morbid embarrassment, I called my best friend, Lance. Way back in the day, he held a bit of a candle for this girl. "Does she still look great?" I answered, "Yes. Actually I believe she may be a zombie, because she looks the exact same as she did in HS, which is a bit unfair. It's as if she bought a Cryogenic Chamber of Youth." Lance of course was floored, and follows up his awe of her with, "So are we going?"

I then brought up the vow we made to each other about the Reunion. If he goes, then I will go and vice-versa. The other vow was to go without our girlfriends or spouses for 2 reasons:

1. the flirt factor and Wingman plays that could be made if one or both of us happens to be single
2. The escape factor in the event that the Reunion is completely wack and warrants a hasty exit

Now the first of these reasons is null and void, due to the fact that we're both happily married in our lives. The second factor however frightens me, and we will both be fighting tooth and nail with our spouses that the reason for going alone isn't for the flirt factor.

Have you ever tried to leave someone at a party or a get-together with a date and you have that heavy talker that just keeps putting the screws to you like a walking Anchor? When you're alone you have the latitude to go the bathroom and make a break for it.

So why do you go to HS Reunions? Is it the Maury reason: "In High School I was wack, but now I've got back?" Is it the Morbid Curiosity that Lance and I shared? Do you agree with our theory about going to the reunion sans spouses because it's easier to leave? Hit me up with some comments, because we're gonna need some advice about this one.

L8er.

I'm so sorry for the lack of updates...

Hey people, I'm so sorry that I haven't been to the site in a while. Also, mad props to my girl the Disaffected Scanner Jockey for giving my a big ups on her website. I've been sick as a dog, and I'm just getting back to regular life.

It all started with chills and fever on Sunday and an "upper respiratory infection" knocked me on my ass from Monday through Thursday. I'm back now, and please expect regular updates coming soon. Thank you so much for reading and giving me a chance. Much appreciated and reciprocated!

L8er.