Friday, January 22, 2010

If I could write a letter to me

I feel the need to write. I haven’t been “blogging” lately, and I’m starting to get the itch. I like being able to take the thoughts in my head and externalize them, even if I’m the only one who reads them. I think status updates are to blame for the decrease. I’ve been turning things that could be a few paragraphs into two sentence blurbs for a status update.


So what do I want to write about? The other day, I had a rough one at work. I was driving home, all depressed and bummed out. I was thinking what would happen if someone showed up at my dorm room in the fall of 1997 with a time machine and said “hey, you want to see what you’re doing in 2010?” I’m pretty sure that my college freshman self, who at the time was probably watching Bewitched reruns on Nick at Nite while thumbing through his high school yearbook wishing he could go back to ol’ WHS, would’ve jumped at the chance. I was that screwed up at 18, thinking my best years were behind me.

So 18 year old me hops in the time machine, excited to see where I was and what I was doing. When the time machine stopped, and he got out and realized he was less than a mile away from the dorm he’d been sitting in, what went through his mind? Did he think he was still in college? Did he think that time hadn’t traveled at all, that someone had played a cruel joke on him?

Then he walks into the office, and sees me, at my cubicle, typing a blog on a social networking site and listening to THE EXACT SAME SONG HE WAS DOWNLOADING BACK IN 1997! I’m a good 50 lbs heavier with the head of gray hair that 18 year old me always knew he’d have at 30, but was still holding out hope that it’d hold off. He asks someone why I’m not working, and whomever it is tells him “because his job requires very little of him.”

I know what he’d be thinking right then. He’d be thinking “Holy crap, my best years ARE behind me! It’s all downhill from here!”

I was thinking this as I pulled onto my street. As I did, it sort of dawned on me. I started wondering if 18 year old Andy would take the time to look a little closer at the older version of himself.

Did he notice the wedding ring? Did he notice the picture of his son in the frame on the computer? Did he see the one of him and his future wife on their wedding day? Would he stick around long enough to see the modest but nice house he lives in, or the modest but nice car that he drives? Would he start looking forward then, instead of looking backwards?

As I parked the car and opened the front door, I heard Jonah yell “Daddy!” from his bedroom and before I even had a chance to hang up my coat, he’s tugging on my leg begging for me to pick him up. I give him a big hug, put him down and kiss my wife. And suddenly, it doesn’t matter anymore that my job isn’t all I want it to be.

What I really want is what’s going on in that living room right then. So buck up, 1997 me. Stop writing letters to the girls you had crushes on in high school, then throwing them in the garbage. Stop moping. You’re going to be happier than you ever thought you’d be. Quit feeling sorry for yourself, and get busy living.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

The Wii: Bringing Families Together and Tearing Down your Self Confidence at the same time

So since the Wii has entered the door at 814 NW Riverbow Ave, it's been the central figure in the family. It really is almost like a family member. It's become Jonah's best friend, my personal trainer, and Rachel's....well Rachel treats it with indifference, almost as if it were a goldfish. Anyways, it's great because it's given us something to do with Jonah that's not simply sitting there watching a movie. He's a big fan of playing golf, and even gives the balance board a try, doing fairly well (for a two year old) in the obstacle course and the one where you are in a chicken suit and flap your arms trying to land on a ship. Sounds ridiculous, but it's fun. We've even been able to use the Wii as a social networking device. It gave us a reason to invite my cousins and their significant others over for a night of trying to head virtual soccer balls and mariokart, which was great fun. We haven't had them over in quite a while.




So yes, the Wii has been great fun. It's also been a pain in the ass.



Specifically the Wii Fit's insistence that I'm obese. Nothing starts my day off quite like hearing "measuring....measuring...measuring....all done!" followed by a skinny mii suddenly becoming a sumo wrestler and a little computerized voice saying "that's obese!" Real shot in the arm of confidence that is. Anyways, I've been determined to get myself out of the "obese" category, and have dedicated a half hour or so a morning to working out on the damn thing. So far I've lost about 5 lbs, but still have miles to go to get into the "that's overweight!" category.



The real fun begins when you get to pick your virtual trainer. You get the option of a male or a female trainer. I've never been a fan of guys in spandex with styled hair, so it was an easy choice to go with the female trainer. I named her Jessica, figuring it'd be easier to take directions from something with a name. Plus when she says "your leg's a little shaky," it's more fun to say "Kiss my ass Jessica," than just yelling at the TV screen. Rachel immediately picked the male trainer and named him Tony. Sadly (or in my case thankfully) Tony is not seen in our house that often, as Rachel can elliptical at work and as such only uses the Wii Fit on weekends, although one time this week, he pinch hit for Jessica. He says "Hi, I'm standing in for your regular trainer today, is that ok?" as if I have a freaking choice. No Tony, it's not OK. I picked Jessica because you look like someone I would never ever want to spend time with. Of course there's no option to tell him it's not ok, so I only did a 15 minute session that day.



It's quite amusing to see Rachel's Mii character fall asleep standing up from inactivity, when in reality she's on the go almost constantly and exercises more than just about anyone I know. Meanwhile, my sumo wrestler sized dude is bouncing around and doing yoga poses looking like an overcaffinated Biggest Loser contestant.



Jessica is not very forgiving. Besides "your leg's a little shaky," she also enjoys letting me know that my balance sucks by saying "you put your foot down, didn't you?" and reminding me that "it's ok to put my knees on the floor while doing pushups." It is not ok for any man to put his knees on the floor and do a pushup. If you have to do that, just stop doing pushups. Find another activity to strengthen your upper body until you can do a pushup. Jessica also apparently does not see the creepiness in her telling me that I can "also view her from the back" if that helps me do the exercise correctly. She also likes to tell me stuff like "wow, I must've stayed up too late last night" as she yawns and stretches like a kitten. Since it's six in the morning when she says this, it's entirely plausible to me that she is a little tired, and I find myself thinking "me too Jessica, why were you up late last night?" before remembering that she's a freaking computer program and immediately being creeped out at myself.