Item #6 - Get a Psychic Reading

I am an engineer. I think rationally. I think logically. I dominated the logic section of the GRE's (if I know girls, and I think I do, they love guys who are boastful about standardized test scores). I understand basic probability, and that if you flip a coin 100 times in a row, and they all come up heads, heads still only has a 50% chance of coming up on the next throw (and if you don't understand that, then please, just stop reading. Go away. You have probably wasted way too much of your life savings on the lottery. We cannot be friends). 

Having the logical engineering mind is a fantastic thing. If the world were infested by zombies, like it's been in so many movies being shown this Halloween weekend, I'd like to think I'd be able to come up with a logical enough plan to survive the initial onslaught.  No need to panic.  Seriously, stick with me. We'll get through it.

But the inability I have to stop thinking like a damn engineer is also kind of a curse. It's probably a large reason why over the last 12 years or so I've moved my religious beliefs from straight up Roman Catholic, having gone to Catholic school from K through 12, to somewhere in the agnostic region (I assume somewhere down the list is a long-ass religion post. We'll get to it when we get to it). But going from knowing there's an afterlife to just kind of hoping there's one kind of sucks. It's a little depressing.

My insistence on logic and reason has certainly wasted many hours of my life arguing with my mom and ex-girlfriends. The deadly combination of logic and stubbornness does not allow me to walk away from a debate, especially one in which the opponent has clearly composed their basic argument on their "emotions" and "feelings", instead of concrete evidence and facts. "My facts are wrong? No, you're opinions are wrong!"

And my logical mind refuses to let me believe in "true love." Yeah, I definitely think there's something called "chemistry" that you can't really define and that only exists between select people. But rather than thinking everyone has a "true love", that everyone has one person on this Earth that they're destined to be with, I end up thinking about probabilities. If I randomly met 100 girls that I was actually attracted to physically, how many would I think I could end up marrying? 2 in 100? What's the equation for those odds?

(Number of shared interests + attractiveness out of 10 - number of DMB albums they own) x Seasons of Arrested Development owned on DVD

I assume my true equation is a little longer, but I'm getting off track.

I bring up my sometimes-annoying engineering mind because the idea of going to a psychic is 100% illogical. It is Anti-Alan thinking.  And after taking a 500-level probability class in grad school, I'm especially reluctant to believe that my future will be able to be predicted by a deck of cards. Was it fate that Card X got flipped up first? Umm, no. It was a simple 1/(total number of cards) probability.  The equation for predicting future does not compute

But once again, the list reared its ugly head. As Alycia and I were winding down our trip to Salem, and I needed to catch the next commuter train back to make my soccer game, we only had time for 1 more activity. I leaned towards a haunted house. She leaned towards a psychic, and smartly gave me the "you've done a haunted house before. You've never gone to a psychic" response. And of course, I couldn't argue with sound logic.

One thing that made me hesitant to go to the psychic? The cost. $35 for a 15 minute reading. Now, everyone has their own value for everything. I have no problem paying $5 for a beer at a bar when I can almost get a 6 pack for the same price at the store, but yet the idea of paying $5 for parking is insane to me. So paying $35 for someone that is the opposite of what I believe in is pretty ridiculous.

But alas, for the good of the list, I went with it, with apologies to the cheap hookers of Boston.

So after setting my fate based on the random probabilities that come along with the shuffling of a deck, my future was foretold.

Career

The first half of the reading dealt with the future of my job (and from here on out, you can just add "supposedly" or "allegedly" to the start of every sentence).

• My current employer is expected to come to me with an offer for a new position. 
• This position may require me to move, and it may be deemed as somewhat of a necessity on the company's behalf. 
• However, the offer won't be all that attractive to me.

This actually wasn't all that crazy (though really, how many people get this generic reading from a psychic). My company has a west coast location. They have offered to move me out there in the past. And recently, someone out here with my same basic position has decided to leave the company. So if I get offered to move out there again, for more money, to take over the vacant spot . . . OK, I might be a little freaked out.

The psychic went on to say that I'll also be getting another offer from a different company. This offer will probably be closer physically to where I am now and will generally more more attractive. More money. More stability. And I admit, this is not the craziest thing either. I've spent the majority of the last year working for one particular customer, and at one point, one of their heads said "if anything ever happened to your company and you need a job, call me up." So if they come calling . . . little more freaked. 

But that's not what the people (aka, my single digit followers) want to hear about

Love

Yes, I'm supposedly going to meet someone. And here's the details.

• She may come into affect when I have to choose between jobs (based on where she lives)
• She also works in the medical field, likely at a hospital, though she's probably not a doctor or nurse, as she dresses more business-like. 
• She more of a free spirit and is going to "loosen me up." 
• She owns her property
• She's pretty fit

At this point, I AM a little freaked out, because sitting 5 feet away was Alycia,  who actually fits those descriptions. But . . .

• She's an animal person, and probably owns a dog
• She has lots of hair, "kind of all over the place"

Alycia . . . . does not fit that description. Alas, my quest for love continues.

So as I continue on with this list, and hopefully hit 52 items, I may be writing the final post with my new fit, hair-everywhere medical-ish girlfriend in her dog-friendly house with my new job. Odds of that happening? 23.813%. 

Elsewhere

• Just a quick thanks to everyone that's actually reading this blog, and everyone that's written back positive things (though feel free to write negatively too. Maybe item #7 can be "get berated in my own comments section").
• I've slacked a little in the announcement aspect, but I do want to post updates on Facebook when I plan to do things, and anyone is welcome to join in any activity. 
• New ideas are always welcome. Email me. Post em. Whatever.

Item #5 - Visit Salem during Halloween season

Halloween is my favorite holiday. It has been for years. It may have taken the #1 slot about the time I learned Santa didn't exist (unless you're like 6 years old and reading this blog in which case . . . I'm kidding! Hooray for Santa!). Or it may have taken over #1 around the time I started drinking. Dressing up in a costume in your mid-teens in front of girls because you want some candy? Lame. Dressing up like a jack-ass later on when you can get drunk and beg girls for their "candy"? Much more fun. However, during my early-teens when all I wanted was non-metaphorical candy, I'd at least come home satisfied. So that was nice.

But being a jack-ass is what makes Halloween my favorite holiday. The more you know me, the more you know I am kind of a jack-ass (just ask any of my ex-girlfriends). But on Halloween, everyone is allowed to let out their inner jack-ass and dress as stupid as they see fit. Even the biggest wallflowers can come up with a clever costume and end up as the talk of the party. It's equal opportunity stupidity. And it's fantastic. I've dressed as various girls (sorority, school). I've dressed in uber-skin-tight spandex. I keep year-long list going just in case I'm getting costume-block come October 1st. The higher the degree of jack-ass-ery, the more props you usually get. Though i think theres also a direct correlation between level of jack-ass-ery and likelihood-of-going-home-alone. Oh well. There's 364 other days I can worry about reigning it in. But Halloween has no limits (that I've found yet. We'll try again this year to find them).

My own jack-ass-ery and personal experience aside, I would probably rank Halloween as the second best night of the year to meet members of the opposite sex (and by night of the year, I mean specific day of the calendar. Weddings may be easier, but those aren't specific dates).  If everyone is willing to dress stupidly and let go of their normal inhibitions, then . . . everyone is willing to let go of their inhibitions. And all the costumes lead to easy opening lines (or so I'm told. When I grow a pair, I can make that statement more surely). The full ranking of best days to meet members of the opposite sex:
1) New Year Eve 
2) Halloween
3) Valentines Day
4) Arbor Day 

So as a longtime superfan of Halloween, I've always wanted to make it out to Witch Capital USA for the Halloween season . . . and it only took me 7 New England Halloweens to do so. So on Sunday October 26, my friend Alycia and I took the commuter rail up for the experience.  Luckily, she had done it before, so she knew what attractions to avoid because they were underwhelming tourist traps (spoiler alert - there were lots of them).  So we'll just go with a picture tour here (a plog?), complete with snarky comments.

Yes, it's a statue of Samantha from Bewitched. It debuted in 2005. So instead of creating it during the height of the TV show's fame, they actually created it the same year the "smash Hollywood hit" Bewitched came out. Genius.

 

The Salem Witch Museum. From what Alycia said, its basically a bunch of animatronics that make It's a Small World seem life-like. Alas, we skipped it.

No snarkiness here. I got nothing but appreciation for people that go all out on Halloween decorations.

 

A lighthouse right by the the replica tallship Friendship. Yes, they named the ship Friendship. Get it? Its a play on words. Its clever.  

There was a small carnival along the water (is there a better smell than carnival food smell? Answer . . . no. We had corndogs. They were delightful).Considering they were put together by drunk carnies, these rides might be the scariest things in Salem. I mean, am I right? . . . AM I RIGHT?

 

We rode the ferris wheel. This is me realizing that since we were the second group to get on, I'd be stopped at the top with Alyica while they let the opposite groups off. 

 This is the uninterested face Alycia would make as we were stopped at the top.

 

Apparently the cemetery in the middle of town is the second oldest in the country (the oldest? I don't know. Google it or something).  John Hawthorne is buried there. He was a judge during the witch trials and the great-great-grandfather of The Scarlet Letter's Nathaniel Hawthorne. I think if you were a Hawthorne in Salem, you were probably guaranteed ass.

We caught a play/reenactment of one of the trials. After witnesses presented their evidence, audience members were allowed to ask questions. One harpie apparently didn't realize this was just a reenactment, as she basically tried to take down the whole Salem judicial system with her continuous questioning. I weep for her husband.

After hitting the bar (it would take some advanced withcraft to formulate a spell that kept us two near-alcoholics from enjoying the Fun in Sunday Funday), Alycia talked me into doing one more Salem-esque attraction that would actually count towards another list item. The rare item-within-an-item. So here's the sneak preview of list item #6:

Will I find true love? Will I get fired? Will I lose an arm in a combine accident? Only the cards know.

Item #4 - Blind Date

So earlier this year, I created an online dating profile, which was a pretty big shock, mostly to me. 10 years ago, I laughed at the idea of online dating. 10 months ago, I said "well, everyone else who's single around here is doing it, its winter, and I have nothing better to do", so I signed up for it. And in reality, online dating makes more sense than trying to randomly meet people at the bar.

Online, you can go through hundreds of different profiles, while at the bar you get what you get in terms of numbers. Online, you can actually get a good sense of the person's personality based on their profile before you ever even say hello, while at the bar you pick someone you're attracted to and just pray for the best. However, in both cases, you're probably only 80% likely to be attracted to the person after the initial meeting, whether it be because the photos online don't quite match up to the live person standing 2 feet from you, or because the 4 beers you had when you met at the bar impaired your vision.

But like many things in my life (and hopefully not like this blog), i was excited for the online thing for about a week and now it just kind of sits there. I'm guessing I've gone the proactive route and initiated conversation only 2 or 3 times. I kind of just figured the ladies will come to me, like I usually do at the bar. This game plan . . . has not worked out so well.

(margin of error +/-1%)

But I have been on a few dates through the profile. One was fantastic. One was pretty good. And one . . . left a bad taste in my mouth. 

Now before I go on with the story, please note that I pretty much know where I stand with the female community. I'm no 10. I'm not going to be drawing a bunch of looks from random girls based on just my looks (see above). I'm usually lucky to get by on my oh so hilarious wit. But on my online profile I'm at least respectful enough to put only recent pictures on the site, receding hairline be damned. Face forward. Full body shots. It is what it is, even if it is a 7.5 on a good day. 

So the last time I met up with a girl, post-online conversation, I was the first to get there. It was a good 5-10 minutes of waiting, letting the anxiety build over time. And when she finally arrived, the immediate completely honest though that went throught my head was "I was attracted to your pictures online, however, I regret to inform you that I am not attracted to you in person." She wasn't unattractive per se, but I definitely thought there was some false advertisement in her profile.

Now if this sounds terrible, and if you want to give the "looks don't matter speech," then I also regret to inform you that you are a liar. The meshing of personalities is the overwhelming reason relationships either work or don't, but if you're just not attracted to the person, it just ain't going to work. I don't think that's some great revelation. And if you disagree, feel free to go on Dating in the Dark and prove me wrong.

Anyway, though I immediately knew that date wasn't going to work out, since I'm not a complete douche, I stuck it out the hour or so it lasted and called it a day. A depressing day being as that I was actually a little excited for the date based on the email conversations. At the very least, while the date was on a Sunday afternoon, the NFL season hadn't started yet, so I didn't miss any football. So the date had that going for it.

(side note - I really need to end the dating apathy I have. One bad date and it completely sticks in my head (though the apathy was there well before that). On the other hand, the girl friends I know that are online dating are going on 2-3 dates per week. And the last bad date story I heard was that they went apple picking, and the guy thought it was a good idea to do shots before leaving for the orchard. . . at 10am. he also decided that a roadie glass of wine was a good idea for the way back.  Lesson - like everything in life, there is always someone who has a worse story, so get over it!)

So having said all that, going into the blind date I was fairly terrified. As I said before, this was the first item on the list that made me regret making the list in the first place. Something I would have said "no" to 99 times out of 100.  And while I could have easily asked matchmaker HeyJin for a picture of the girl (since she has a name, I should probably use it. It's Laura), I didn't think that would be good enough for the spirit of going on a "blind" date. So despite my better judgment, I went in knowing 3 things - she's an allergist, she's a runner, and she's pretty.

And . . . it went pretty well . . . I think.

 

If you want full gossipy details of the date, you'll have to visit my dating blog at apatheticdater.fakeblog.com (and if you're really in the mood to snoop, I'll dash your hopes now and let you know that she's not on Facebook). But the 2 main reasons for this 52-new venture are to A, make me not bored after moving into a 1 bedroom apartment, and B, do things that might take me out of my element. And the blindness of the date was exactly that. I mean, considering it was a friend of a friend (which is actually how all 5 of my previous girlfriends came about. again, not so great at the random bar meetings), I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be murdered and have my body tossed into the Charles. 

Jerry: What'd she do?

Kramer: : I don't know! But I woke up in the Hudson River in a SACK!

But besides that, there was a very real chance the date could have blown up about 15 minutes into it, and I'd once again be left to count down the number of sips she had left in her beer before I could run away as fast as possible. But it didn't. In fact, it was a good 3 hours worth of drinks. No real bad awkward pauses. No internal monologue about not finding the other person attractive. No "soooooo . . . . what kind of music do you like" questions. 

(I am fairly snobby about music/TV/movies, and thus, those are important questions. But the blatant askingof those questions to kill an awkward pause on date #1 usually spells doom. When they happen organically, I'll probably go off for a good hour about them. And if you answer "yes" to both "do you like DMB" and "do you like Two and a Half Men", then it's guaranteed doom)

 

So yeah, I'd say it went pretty well. Most likely well enough to warrant a Round 2. And definitely well enough to not make me so terrified of doing it again. And though I I did find her attractive (hi Laura!), if I did get offered a blind date again, I'd at least have the sense to demand a picture, like a rational human being would. 

Item #3 - New foods (Round 1)

I may not have kids. I may never have kids. I may never find a girl that would be willing to have my aforementioned kids. But if I do, I will force them everything that can legally be considered "edible."

Those that know me, know I'm a terribly picky eater. Well, sort of. Within the foods that I do eat, I'm incredibly easy to please, and I'll rarely complain about a food I do enjoy. BUT, the realm of the foods I do eat is limited to say the least. No eggs. No salad. No rice. No shellfish. Minimal soups. The list goes on. Its sad really. And I blame my parents dammit!  

Supposedly, as the oldest child, I was never force fed. I didn't like it, I didn't have to eat it.  When my brother came along, he was force fed more. And when the baby of the bunch, my little sister, cam along, they made her eat everything. And 30 some years later, here we are, with the same eating habits we had as 1 years olds (see Chart 1).

So, to all the parents and soon-to-be-parents out there, here's some advice from someone who can often barely take care of himself - make your kids eat everything. In fact, have them eat dog food. Have them eat bird seed. Have them eat shit that will make broccoli sound awesome.

And with that said, as a food pansy, I think I can justify simply trying new foods as list items. Granted, I don't plan on counting things like "tried salad for the 10th time and still don't like it", but this weekend's wedding provided multiple opportunities for new (and exotic (to me)) foods, so I'm counting this 3-pack as an item (its my list dammit, I'll add what i want to).

New Food #1 - Butternut Squash Soup

I've never had squash, and I've probably tried 4 soups in my life. So this was really a double whammy. And luckily, while I wasn't drunk, I was enough beers deep to say "fuck it, let's do this" (yes, i know its pretty sad that i'm trying to sound like a bad ass while trying new foods, instead of say, jumping out of a plane).  So I went for it and . . . meh. Not terrible enough for me to gag. Not good enough to down the whole cup. But I made it halfway through, without even having to plug my nose during it. Hooray me.  So we're going to give the butternut squash soup . . . .2 out of 5 "Blech's".

New Food #2 - A Flower

Yes. Item #2 was a flower. I have no idea what kind besides "white and purple-ish." (what can i say - I'm a boy and thus, rarely buy flowers (reason #28 why I'm single?)). 

So the flower came out on top of the giant hunk of delicious non-exotic good-ole-fashioned American chicken, which was itself on top of a mound of good-ole-fashioned American mashed potatoes (fun fact - I didn't eat mashed potatoes until I was about 24 years old. seriously, i could write a blog post a day for a year on foods that I don't eat (or didn't eat) that normal Americans do). I figured it was just aesthetics, but my friend Walter informed me (or duped me into thinking) that it was in fact edible. So after watching him down it first, making sure he didn't immediately turn purple from an allergic reaction, I took my turn at it.

 

The verdict? More harmless than lettuce (again, I don't eat salads, and people who say lettuce has no taste obviously don't have the refined palette that I do, but since everyone has tricked themselves into thinking it has no taste, we'll use that as the comparison here). No taste at all. Not something I'd order (if that's even possible), but because it was so benign, it merely warrants 1 out of 5 Blech's.

New Food #3 - A Pumpkin

With 2 foods down, and me on a roll (and me a few more beers deep since the butternut squash soup), I decided to give the cheering onlookers a gift.

The centerpieces were bowls of mini squash and mini pumpkins, and since it is the season of the pumpkin beer (which is sublime, and if you disagree, you may hate America), I decided to bite into one of the pumpkins like an apple. It was . . .

 

. . . a poor decision.  For my reaction, please see any of the pictures that now represent the Blech Scale. Not surprisingly, this new food didn't make it's way to my stomach, but instead into the nearest coffee cup (always a classy move at a wedding). It was instantly gross, but since it didn't result in a gag reflex, it deserves 4 out of 5 Blech's.

Upcoming Endeavors

• Barring a change a plans, Item #4 (the blind date) will be taking place tomorrow. This one has already elicited a weird mix of utter excitement and total fear and anxiety. 
• Anyone interested in seeing Salem during October? Doing a lot of these list items solo is perfectly cool.  Doing a haunted house alone makes me the creepy weird guy who parents will probably hide their children from. I don't want to be that guy. 
• And if you need an explanation of what the hell of writing about, see Post #1

Pot Committed

I've had my first official case of list-makers remorse.  

A lot of the items on the list are there because they'll probably be fun as hell. Some are on their because they'll theoretically make me more cultured. Some are on their because I'll end up learning a new skill.  And some of them are on there because they're new experiences that will take me out of my element, and most likely, make me a little comfortable. A blind date falls into that last category, and a blind date has been offered to me.  And the thought of a blind date makes me want to delete the list and go back to that whole 3-hours-of-video-games-on-a-weeknight thing.

Without this new year-long gameplan, I absolutely would have said "no," or at the very least would have gone new-age-stalker and looked up the girl's Facebook profile and hunted down pictures of her. But the existence of the list compelled me to say "yes" . . . . and to immediately get the butterflies going (I think I'm less scared for potentially skydiving). And since the list does indeed say "blind date", against my better judgement, I do indeed plan to go into it blind (though I told the setup girl Heyjin to go ahead and have the potential date look up my own Facebook profile. While I'd love for her to quote Arrested Development during the date, I'd prefer she doesn't show up and 30 seconds later start quoting the Bluths with "I've made a huge mistake". Alas, she has given the initial approval based on my Facebook profile, so I guess I got that going for me).

So while I don't know exactly when it will be, item #3 is in the works. She is apparently smart, pretty and an allergist, and that's all I'll go into it knowing. And yup, I'm terrified. Damn the list! (said while shaking my fist in the air like a 80 year telling kids to get off my lawn).

Other news and notes:

• My first actual attempt at a third item was a failure, though a bum knee certainly contributed. No 5K in sub-7-minute pace. It was closer to 7:25. Sigh. But we try again in 2 weeks.
• As expected, the 100-beers item is well underway. 14 down. 86 delicious experiences to go.