Summer is Blazer Prepping Season

Okay, transferring pics from the iPhone isn't as bad as I made it out to be. It is definitely more difficult than it should be, but it's probably because I'm used to picture files appearing as an external hard drive rather than a camera wizard. If that sounded confusing, it's because it is. Anyway.

So when I came back from Europe, I weighed in expecting about 5-7 lbs weight gain from all the booze, carbs, lack of protein, and messed up sleep patterns. But it was only 2 lbs! We did walk a lot, which probably resulted in the loss of a couple of inches around the waist. I almost fit into my favorite bootcut jeans that I had to retire back in 2nd year of grad school. And it turns out that I fit into my cream/beige blazer that I bought around that time!

(me, 25 lbs lighter)

I never got the sleeves fitted because I have never worn it outside. It is physically impossible to wear a blazer for 10 out of 12 months in this Texas heat, and so there was never the occasion to pimp this rocking jacket with the salmon/red/pink shirt.

And if you look really closely, that pocket square is made from a very thin piece of 8.5"x11" printer paper. We met this very metro Swede on our eurotrip who reportedly spent the equivalent of $40 on a hot orange pocket square to complement his blue blazer. And though I almost vomited at the thought of spending that much on a piece of hemmed fabric, I must admit that combination looked spectacular.

So when I do get my jackets altered (I also have a blue blazer with brass buttons), I'm getting a few pocket squares to go with them. I'm thinking white, blue-green or turquoise, orange, and pink.

I saw this outfit while window shopping in France:

I dig the waist-hugging fit, but this jacket is a bit more white than cream; cream allows for more combinations in my opinion. Plus, I only spent $40 on my jacket in 2005; the price for this French one is obscene!

iPhone, It Mostly Works

Okay, I'll concede that the iPhone 4/4S is damn sexy, especially the white one. It's extra sexy when combined with a barely-there case. A good many people put those large, clunky otterbox cases, but it's akin to putting a supermodel in an XXL puffy jacket. Why, people, why? And those with no protection leave nothing to the imagination. So yes, I bought into the flagship of the Apple culture, but after just a couple months, I'm ready to jump ship.

Some gripes:

No app cache clearing. Facebook and other large apps can take a huge toll on the non-expandable 8gb (6.4gb actual) memory allotment. It would be nice to have the option to clear cached memory from time to time to increase speed, which is a standard option on the Android platform. iPhone, nope. It will automatically clear it whenever it feels like it, which is almost never. And I'm not doing the delete & reinstall workaround. It defeats the ease that Apple promises.

No forcing of full sites. I think Safari is one of the best smartphone browsers available. And surfing on the iPhone is vastly more pleasurable than using Android's default browser. But you can't force the iPhone to display full sites natively; you always have to click the "Display Full Site" option from the default mobile site. Now Chase.com refuses to offer such option so you're stuck with the crappy mobile site. Android has a workaround to always display full sites for that stupid company that refuses to acknowledge the computing power of newer smartphones. (I guess this is more of a complaint against Chase).

No sorting in packaged Reminders app. Every other pre-installed app has an option to reorder items, why not this one? For such a sleek & elegant system, this is a glaring omission/mistake.

Ease of transferring photos & creating albums natively. I spent a good couple hours trying to figure out how to get pictures from the phone onto my PC in an efficient manner. If it just works, then it should be intuitive to figure out. I'm far from a techie, but I'm no idiot when it comes to technology. Suggestions: list the iPhone as an external HD (Apple will never do this), show pictures tab in iTunes like they have for ebooks & music, have an import/export feature from iTunes. Oh forget about creating albums from Camera Roll on the phone itself. Not an option. UPDATE: I take this back. You can create albums in Camera Roll. Don't rely on discussion topics from 2009. Oopsy! :)
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I've looked and there are countless discussion topics dedicated to these issues. And unlike Android which seems to be a more open platform, with Apple you're stuck with what they give you. There is an update I'm currently downloading (taking forever, btw), but I doubt it will fix any of these problems no matter how much demand there is.

For me, the iPhone is like a really attractive trophy wife who is extremely uptight and stubborn. The things she chooses to do, she will do well and quite elegantly. But there are things you know are possible that she will absolutely refuse to do, no matter how much research & finagling you try. You just have to enjoy her beauty and live with her faults. Or divorce her in 21 months and get the newer, sexier Android model.

Failed Pickup in Prague

Oh man, Prague was ridiculously fun! But the best parts are secreted between my travel companions, my journal, and myself. If you want to read about a fun Prague experience, go yourself then write about it. Trust me, it will be so much better that way.

I'm healing (hopefully) from this objectification-of-women disease I've been suffering from as of these past couple of years. Well really I've probably had it my whole life--I just didn't realize it until a couple of years ago. To be fair, I objectify dudes too, just not in a sexual way (though one could doubt that considering the Nice post). It's so much easier to view people as a collection of traits: physical, mental, and material. But that's wrong. I don't want to be viewed as some muscle-bound (getting there!) smart dude who makes a six-figure salary. While those things do describe me, I am so much more. And people are so much more. Please excuse the armchair psychology/philosophy.
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So I did intend to meet people on this Europe trip. If it was a bad experience, it's not like I'd ever see them again, which took away from the awkwardness of talking to random strangers. It was surprising the number of cool people (men and women) whom I didn't keep in touch with through Facebook or other means. It made me realize that there are nice, friendly people everywhere if only you were nice and friendly. As the saying goes, "It's nice to be nice."

But of course I am a dude, and try as I may, there is always that undercurrent sexual tension whenever a man talks with a woman. And that undercurrent becomes a raging river once a little alcohol gets in the way. One bit of advice for Prague: try not to get too drunk off of the really good $1.50 beers.

Fortunately, concurring with my desire to not be that guy anymore, I won't go into the blow by blows. I hesitated to write this post, but I just had to immortalize the stupid drunken notes I made on my phone while on the Drunken Monkey Pub Crawl. It's 400-500 Czech kronas which translates to $20-25. Do it! If the fellow pub crawlers suck, then drink some more until they don't suck or until you just don't care anymore. Disclaimer: g does not advocate drinking as a way to solve problems, though it can help immensely.

(I'm surprised I actually don't have a pic from the place, so this will have to do. Notice the dude rocking the Astros cap in the bottom right pic. H-town represent!)

Note 1 (on Reminders iPhone app): Oh snap theyre playing dreamland!

After playing beer pong the weird UK way (bounce-ins only, no shooting directly into the cup) and the American (the real) way at the opening bar, I was sufficiently sauced when we started to crawl. And in one of the other bars, they played a song from Robert Miles's Dreamland. Really trippy when you're not expecting techno/trance/New Age, but oh so welcome. I really dig chill-out music.

Note 2: Don't call a Brit an ahole for stealing a Finn :(

By the third or fourth bar/pub, I slowed down the alcohol consumption to practically nil. The power-2.5-hour was over, and I didn't quite feel like paying for drinks that I wouldn't remember, even if they were only the equivalent of $3. With increased sobriety, I also gained increased wherewithal to notice all the hot girls all around me. Again, go to Prague!

So I approached a few of them sitting on a nice comfy couch, with the excuse that I was just resting. Struck up a conversation, then encountered the dreaded s-- test: "You know I'm not going to sleep with you tonight."

Casually, smiling, "I don't want to sleep with you either. I'm here for the culture. Besides, I'm not an easy guy; you have to work to get me into bed!" With that, I did a takeaway to talk to the other girl. But a couple minutes in, I see the first girl making out with a skinny Clark Kent looking jerk replete with large, black wayfarer-like glasses. Totally distracting, and upsetting to me since I was still buzzing hard.

A while later, we all make our way outside, and I complimented the guy on his victory by calling him an a--hole, which apparently to Brits is a severe insult. Guy was about to start a fight then and there. Being a lover and not a fighter, I offered a defusing apology and stepped away from the pugilist. Not worth my time.

Note 3: Don't drink when you're running game especially when you have a chance

The next place I was still distracted from the earlier proceedings. That's my excuse for fumbling through conversations, etc. The other pub crawlers bought me a drink which helped ease the pain and frustration. Again, alcohol does not solve problems! :)

Note 4: Being drunk and or buzzed makes you vulnerable to old habits

We eventually called it quits and walked along the main thoroughfare of Prague, to enjoy really delicious  drunk junk food from street vendors. I had a fried cheese sandwich with a Duff beer*. It was like a giant mozzarella stick garnished with a tartar-like sauce and encapsulated in a hamburger bun. And if that sounds utterly amazing, it's because it is! Kind of like having a Spicy McChicken & Double Cheeseburger after a night out, except I washed it down with more booze.

When we got back to the hostel, I apparently recounted the Brit/Finn story a number of times to my bunk-mate, because a couple days later when I told the story, he shook his head saying, "Dude, you're still on that?"

And so that is hopefully the last time I tell that story. For all I know, the Brit and Finn could have came together and I was the jerk for trying to make a move. Oh well, I had a great time regardless. Her loss, yes?

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*The beer was awful even after a night of drinking, so I can't imagine how much it sucks when sober

Not Top 100 Bucketlist

More posts on Europe, I promise! ...maybe :)

First off: the cleansing of random notes I've had before the Eurotrip. Whilst making the pseudo bucketlist, I also came up with some other goals which didn't quite make the top 100. Since there aren't even 100 items on the list, these just sucked for one reason or another. Without ado. (Note: these numbers are also made up)

#115 Get a 15-star rating on PlayStation Network. I currently have an 8-star rating after completely beating 7 games. This was during my slight video game addiction phase. I'd play about 4 hours a day and would think about playing for the other 20 hours (sometimes I'd even dream about game sequences). Eventually like with most things, I got bored and stopped. Another 7-stars may not seem like a lot, but the system is progressive: I'd have to beat another 25-ish games in order to get to 15-level. I may get there in the end, but it's definitely not a goal I strive for.

#108 Qualify and play in the U.S. Open (of golf). I'd have to get ridiculously good or all other golfers have to get ridiculously bad. I'll definitely try, but items on a bucketlist should be reasonable. My first golf goal is to break 100. Then it will be to consistently beat my brother.

#118 Become a competitive eater. On Sundays I eat whatever and however much I want to reset my metabolism (aka a cheat day). And the meal can get pretty massive. Emboldened by these epic pigouts, I attempted and completed a 4-lb pho challenge. While initially delicious, it started becoming work and eventually started to hurt. Don't do it. Not worth a free gigantic bowl of pho, which was my prize. Maybe worth the picture on their wall of fame though :). After that experience, I gave up on considering competitive eating.

#132 Finish the Star Trek series on Netflix. For awhile, I was also hooked on Netflix streaming. It was disgusting: I'd wake up, and the first thing I'd do was watch a couple episodes of series XYZ. While some were worth it (like Lost and Battlestar Galactica), others were definitely a waste of time. Currently progressing through Scrubs now, but only a couple episodes here and there. When Netflix announced their partnership with Star Trek, I was initially excited, but there's absolutely no way I could watch that and the other things in my queue. So Star Trek, live long and prosper without me.
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On a sidenote, I'm going to try to treat this blog like she being brand new:

"i was back in neutral tried and
again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg.       ing(my
lev-er Right-
oh and her gears being in
A 1 shape passed
from low through
second-in-to-high like
greasedlightning)"

Taking it slower, steadier, and consistent-er. Versus my track record of being quick, labile, and capricious.

So I say.

Brave Old World

I am back! And though Europe was quite a blast, a month in foreign lands is long enough for this Texas boy. I've been dying for a good chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes (with cream gravy), mac & cheese, and fried okra, but I will have to wait just a bit longer while I get back into my workout/eating right rhythm.

A month is far too much to encapsulate into a single post, so just some thoughts about how the Old and New World can learn from each other.

New World pro: free water. In the States, there is almost always a water fountain just outside public facilities. Though it may not be the cleanest, it is certainly available, and it's free. There is almost no free water in Europe. Order water at a restaurant in Europe and you'll likely pay a few euros for bottled. They also like their fizzy Perrier-like water, which can be pretty awful if you're not used to it.

Coming from a place where I was regularly consuming about a gallon of water a day (16 glasses), I felt so dehydrated most times. After only a couple days back, my hands are soft and moisturized again (and I don't use hand lotion). The lack of readily available water is also one of the reasons why I didn't work out much in Europe. That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it. Fortunately, I only gained a couple pounds. No worries; those pounds and its friends will be leaving soon enough.

Old World pro: The price you see is the price you pay, ie tax and gratuity included. You can't imagine how convenient it is to pay straight sticker price. If the price is 4.50 euros, then you're going to pay 4.50, not 4.87 with 8.25% tax. And not having to tack on 15% gratuity is amazing. Europeans were shocked to learn it's standard to tip 15% on okay service in the States. "At restaurants in the States, you look at the price then add another 25%. That's the real price." "What? Really?" "Yep. If you can't afford tax & tip, you can't afford the meal."

My traveling companion did make a good point, "In the States, you have the option of not tipping them if you don't want to. Here, it's already included in the price." But living in such a tip-driven society, it feels awful not tipping, like if you were to ignore the collection basket at church.

At a steakhouse in Amsterdam, I think the waitstaff was extra friendly to me as an American, thinking I'd leave the standard hefty tip. In hindsight, I should have left a couple euros, but I needed them for FEBO! An American waiter/waitress would probably have run after me screaming obscenities had I stiffed them.

Another thing, they do have 1 and 2 cent euro pieces, but its use is much less common than the penny because of the tax included thing. Though to be honest, it doesn't matter too much to me since I use cards for pretty much everything.
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How scattered are my thoughts tonight? At least I'm not drunk to the point of amnesia! I made a $10 bet shortly after that last blog post that I would not get back to the hostel 3 hours after my travel companions without good reason. And so for the rest of the trip, I respected the effects of alcohol. That doesn't mean that there aren't stories which have been safely sealed away under the principle of Mutually Assured Destruction. What happens in Europe stays in Europe :).

(attempted photobomb which actually turned out to be a nice contrapposto pic)

Le Royale Cheese

I am going to ignore that I somehow got back to my hostel without getting jacked. I believed before I passed out that I was following a gay Brazilian and a New York girl to some club. I managed to dance somewhat successfully given my intoxicated state and I might have even kissed a gay guy(s). But the recolllection now that I'm safe in my hostel, locked outside of my room is a bit fuzzy, like all good drunk stories tend to be a bit non-kosher. It is almost 7AM.

It is warm, and the only difficulty lies in a funky keyboard which is almost QWERTY but not quite. Did I mention that I cannot get into my room? Anyway. The events of the last 2 hours are significantly strange to me. I gained consciousness somewhere on the outskirts of Nice, France, without the benefit of a map. My iPhone does not have GPS nor unlimited internet as it does in the US. I was following some girl and a gay guy trying to make progress with said girl, but as we see from this post, I had most likely failed (or had failed or will have failed). So I made my way to landmarks, most notably the Mediterranean Sea.

In the daytime, it is a brilliant shade of azure blue, a color which you can't imagine without seeing it in person. At night, it taunts you of your own frustration in finding a place to rest your head.

But I conquered this foreign obstacle even if I cannot get into my bed. I have reached my final destination to blog at 6:30AM local time. I cannot get into my room, but I am not dead or missing. I am alive and well, and surprised that I somehow made it back to where I should be.

Which is quite beautiful in the daytime with its azure waters, but in the night, it is a bit bland, especially when you're trying to find your home for the next few days. It ended up being okay, since Europeans are quite nice, even in the darkness.

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I honestly cannot believe that I let myself indulge in crazy matters that I have done in this foreign country. I had fully intended to eat a nice dinner of pate and cheese on French bread and maybe have a glass of wine to unwine before going to bed.

But I ended up putting on my pink dress shirt. slacks, and dress shoes not very much later. Which was quite fun when I knew what was going on. Somehow, my separation of reality and extant reality kicked in, and I panicked.

I figured out where my hostel was and I trucked back home in the dark, guided by the sound of the crashing waves on the gravelled shore. Even without a cell phone, I somehow remembered the name of the hostel where I was staying, though I cannot call nor text my friends to open the door.

Which is fine, because it is my own damn fault.

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It is okay, because Europe has treated me grandly so far.

I had hoped to get my Royale Cheese whilst on my quest for home, but alas, I may have to do that tomorrow.

No worries. The last dude in Barcelona had a saying: No pasa nada. Loosely translated to don't worry about the past.

And I am not. I live in the present, and the present is quite fun, even if a bit unexpected!

I will get my Royale Cheese before I leave France though!

-g

What's Luck Got To Do With It?

...got to do with it? What's luck but a second hand-ed notion?

Did you see what I did there? I subbed "-ed notion" for "emotion"? Please excuse that bit of ego-stroking.

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I don't have very many pet peeves. I don't know or care about the proper use of nauseous vs nauseated. But one of my main ones has to do with the correct use & meaning of words. Luck and fortune can easily be mistaken for good decision-making. But it is a severe disservice to dismiss tough, difficult decision-making as a simple smile of the fates.

As mentioned in the last post, I'm departing for the Old World in a couple days. It's been fun making friends turn that lovely shade of gangrene, and I revel in the "I'm-so-jealous!"s. But I silently bristle when I hear the oft-said "Oh, you're so lucky!"

"No. I made the right decisions; some of them were very hard. Please don't belittle the things I had to give up to make this month-long trip that I may never be able to do again." That's what I want to say, but I'm not that much of a jerk. And they mean well, even if they equate my choices' outcome with that of the Mega Millions winners.

There wasn't a Eurotrip lottery. There weren't cross-Atlantic plane tickets in the middle of the street for any lucky fool to pick up. How is it luck? Not to bore you with details, but suffice it to say, I made several sacrifices including several grand, willing unemployment and time.

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The second part of my annoyance comes from the sometimes tragic reliance on luck. It's sad to see people suckling on the addictive teat of casinos' false promise of wealth. Though some may win big at the house games, most leave broke when they don't regard the trip as entertainment. The simple fact is that the odds are always in the house's favor (with the exception of poker, etc). The right decision is not to play the games.

We are in control of a large number of our actions even if it may not seem like it. You can quit your job if you so choose (though it should probably be for a very good reason in this economy). You can go to Europe for a whole month. You can lose all the weight that you resolved to do every New Year. You can get healthy. You can always try to do everything you want to do. It's not about good nor bad luck.

It's about belief. Then, and more importantly, it's about proper decision-making. If you're a single parent living paycheck to paycheck, then no, you probably can't go to Europe this year. But you can go back to school, get a well-paying job, save up, and when your kids get older, you too can see Barcelona, Paris, London, Berlin, etc. It's not about luck.

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Back in high school, a teacher ventured a guess that I liked chess:

me: Why is that? I don't really care for chess.

teach: That's surprising, since you seem to like to be in control. And chess isn't a game of chance.

me: Hmm. Never thought about it that way. But I think chess sucks.

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I think it's because I didn't and don't have the patience to learn all the moves & gambits & such. And it's probably because I can't quite control what my opponent is doing. And it's a stretch to make chess lessons applicable to life situations. I'd much rather play golf. It takes longer, is more expensive, vastly more frustrating, and hence immensely addictive.

As I get older, I recognize decisions and see the hidden choices I can now make. I understand the consequences of my actions, and I forgo immediate satisfactions for more profound rewards. I'm starting to challenge the accepted 9-5-with-2-weeks-vacation-per-year-white-picket-fence-2.5-kids norm. I'm not doing what everyone else is doing (or should be doing) because I'm not trying to be everyone else.

I'm trying to be the best me. Forcing myself to recognize all options and sequelae has helped me tremendously this past year: what works, what doesn't work, what will never work, and what may work in the future.

It's not about luck. It's mostly decision-making and a little skill.

-g