Year of The _________

I try to date one girl per year. It just makes it easier when recalling past relationships so I can refer to my relationships as periods in my life. For instance, "Year of The Lisa." It's no coincidence that some of these periods of my life are names of horrific tropical storms.


As I prepare for the New Year, I've done some thinking. More than just the obvious thoughts that run through my head (like the fact that according to the Chinese calendar 2009 is the Year of The Ox which concerns me a little) but really contemplating. I think I just need to be really honest with women: I have NO money and I'm probably not going to age well. I've already reached my peak and it's all downhill from here. I've never been good at picking up on subtle hints so please just tell me what you're thinking. I will remember random things, but sometimes not the things you deem as "important" so cut me some slack....okay, maybe I should stop. I'm just reciting the actual conversations that ended each of the last few historic "periods" of my life.

I'm chewing the ocean

True Story: I was out with my (then) girlfriend to Black Eyed Pea for lunch. The waitress knew me, because I had given her a hard time in the past. At one point, I begged, "Please don't spit in my food" and from then forward, it was her joke everytime I came in. I would order chicken fried steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes and she would ask, "Would you like spit in that?" Yeah, I didn't think it was funny either. Anyway, this particular day, she asked the same question and I responded, "You know, I hope you really don't spit in my food or poison it every time I come here." Ha, ha, ha we had a good laugh, blah, blah, blah. Part of her daily pitch of specials included a Blackberry cobbler, made fresh for the lunch hour rush. We were there around 1pm for a late lunch, and I was surprised there was any left when I ordered some for dessert. So, back to the conversation with my girlfriend (she's married now, I kind of blew that one). We were having a fairly serious conversation and she was close to tears as I took my first bite of cobbler....there was something terribly wrong. It was, perhaps, the worst thing I've ever had in my mouth. I didn't want to cause a scene or interrupt the serious conversation, so I kept chewing, gagging, and finally swallowed what tasted like a huge bite of chunky ocean water. Finally, Sarah (the relationship I once had) noticed by the contortions in my face that something was wrong and paused the conversation to check in on me. Yeah, it was bad. I knew immediately - they made the cobbler with salt instead of sugar. Apparently, I was the 1st lucky customer of the day to test the awful mix of ingredients. I'm still not sure why I didn't just spit it out. So, we called the waitress over to inquire why she really went through with the threat of poisoning my food. She alerted the manager, who made the entire staff try the disgusting concoction and then they threw away all 6 pans of the wretched mix. Really, I can't ever have Blackberry cobbler again. Thanks Black Eyed Pea for a ruined relationship and bad food.

Second time's a charm

One of my favorite hobbies in high school was perfecting the art of TP'ing others houses. I had a friend who was constantly dating various girls, but most importantly, constantly breaking up with them. They made the perfect targets to practice our skills. One night, we were TP'ing one of his exgirlfriends house. When you're buying "supplies" at the store, the clerk has a pretty good idea of where you're headed. You're wearing all black, and purchasing 2 very cheap 24 packs of toilet paper - you're not fooling anyone.
Anyway, we were so excited, we went too early - we should have waited until early in the morning. Instead, it was about midnight and when we were almost finished, a car started coming up the street. We both laid down in the grass waiting for the car to pass. Instead, it began to slow down and pulled into the driveway - it was her dad!! At one point, his headlights lit up my face like a jack-o-lantern, but somehow he didn't notice me. I think he was too distracted by the 44 rolls of TP hanging from the trees. So, he gets out of the car and starts walking around the yard, pulling down all the TP and mumbling something under his breath. He was out there for a good 20 minutes trying to clean it up, all the while we're laying silently in the grass on opposite ends of the yard, sometimes just feet from him. Finally, he tore it all down...here was his fatal mistake: he threw it in a big pile, just outside the garage by the side of the house and went inside. We hated to see it all go to waste, so we stayed another 30 minutes and put it all back up, plus hung the additional 4 roles we hadn't yet used.

Lost and gone forever

So, if you know me very well at all or work with me on a regular basis (and, yes, I probably have your phone number memorized) you know that I travel all the time. I'm also extremely hard to reach or make any sort of contact with. All that said, my brother created an unique but honest out-of-office reply for my email:

Sorry I missed you, I am never in the office, in fact I would need a map just to find the office, so of course you missed me. Rumor has it my family has sent pictures of me for milk cartons and postcards.

I am currently on a (Choose one: plane, train, automobile, ship, space shuttle) and will be spending the night at a hotel in (name a location in North America) which I will be available between 12-3 as I sleep, but I have meetings immediately before and after, following that I will be back in a (Choose one: plane, train, automobile, ship, space shuttle) until my next (chose one: sale meeting; sales training, vendor visit, client visit, or my (name of the place I am at) girlfriends house) after which you can reach me (go back to the beginning)

Your best hope of ever catching me is calling a random stewardess at the main airline hubs in the country, where they all know me by name and may also be my (name of a location in North America) girlfriend. Don’t bother calling me on the cell phone as I can never answer it and the voice mail is always full. Forget emailing me despite the fact I have four computers at my disposal - I never have time to use any of them. But you can read my blog and check out my website if you have forgotten what I look like or would like to pretend I am talking to you so you can engage in my great sense of humor.

Do not use this email as an invitation to rob my house just because I am not there - all my mail and money go to my parents house and I don’t have any time to spend my money and buy things anyway. Despite the fact I work 80 hours a week I actually don’t make that much money either. So unless you are offering a new job with less hours and better pay forget trying to get hold of me. Please just close your eyes and remember the times we used to have together and the man I used to be.

Thanks,
Toby (the machine)
(***) ***-**** [cell] (not that it's going to help you anyhow)

Aaahhh, the joy of travel

Remember me? We were probably friends at one point before I started traveling for a living. My job is taking me across the country for the past 4 years, but now the travel has increased even more. I keep telling my girlfriend that it's like 'Summer Camp'. One week at a time that we're away and it'll go so quick she'll barely notice that I'm gone. Yeah, that was a nice idea but not so much.
So if you don't know me, welcome into my head. I needed something to keep me sane while I travel, so i thought blogging was a nice option. Let me introduce myself: I'm strange, sometimes funny, and somewhat bitter about random things. That's all you need to know - I don't want anyone stalking me. Speaking of stalking, I used to work at Focus on the Family. I was a tour guide so i had lots of interaction with the public. The security staff there recommended that I didn't put my last name on my ID Badge for fear of guests stalking me (believe it or not, it had happened in the past with other tour guides). Despite their advice, I included my last name and figured, "Aaah, I'm a college student. A little excitement of a stalker might be fun." No one ever stalked me (i know, you thought that was going to be a really good story. nope.) I loved being in college - I didn't have anything. everyone was so worried about Y2K when I was in college. People were warning me to prepare and stock up for "the end of the world". I never did, because I figured even if I loose everything I have....I'm out $300 bucks.
Currently, I'm in a hotel room in Grand Rapids, MI. DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S IN GR, MI?!?! nothing, except a customer I needed to see. Earlier this week I was in Chicago (city and suburbs) and I finally get to spend a few days at home starting tomorrow. I hit some great food spots in Chicago, including a pizza and grinders restuarant downtown on Clark. It was amazing food. Also, I never miss going to Portillo's for hot dogs when I'm there. Good choice.
But traveling certainly creates lots of great stories to tell. For instance, last time I flew to Chicago, I was suddenly awaken on the plane by a loud, gushy, belching sound. At first I didn't know what it was, until I looked down and saw the vomit on my clothes from the passenger behind me. He apologized (wasn't that nice!) but "sorry" doesn't make the vomit go away. understand that I have just about the weakest stomach ever. I can't handle blood, vomit, boogers, or other secretions from the human body. I could never make it in a hospital, and I sometimes question if I could ever handle having kids. All that said, I would have lost my breakfast that morning on the plane, but United Airlines sidesteped that landmine by no longer serving meals on flights. No, just small bags of "Plane Cheezies" (a terrible imitation of Cheezit crackers shapped like airplanes - seriously, what am I, 5 years old? what a joke). So, the flight attendant (or whatever the PC term is now) brought me some wetwipes to clean off my khaki pants so I could attend my morning meeting that I was flying in for. What a day.
This trip, there are many stories - some which are a little vulgar and being that my mother could read this I won't share. One consistent problem of traveling is often I'll travel with roommates/coworkers. I try to remember to warn them that I talk in my sleep and occasionally scream like a 4th grade girl at recess. Now, understand that I'm not really a cussing-type-guy. But the other night I woke my roommate up with one simple word, yelled at the top of my lungs - $#!+!!!! Even though he was shaking and his heartrate trippled, deep down i think he thought it was funny.
Well, stick with me on my adventures on the road - we'll talk soon.