The First Day of the Rest of My Life

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Yet another event that should probably shock me into living healthier...

A co-worker of mine had a mild stroke.

This co-worker is 26 years old.

According to a blog he posted on myspace, he's been through a lot in his personal life. Broke up with a gal he was talking about marrying, been taking MBA courses at the local uni, and working at the call center dealing with angry clients for eight hours a day.

The pictures of him drinking with his buddies don't really make him the model of health (though I have referred to him as "a cut Buster Poindexter" in the past). But, yet again, another red flag waving in front of me telling me to take better care of myself. Of course, the Chik-Fil-A sandwich I had for lunch today didn't help.

Here's to a no-meat Friday tomorrow! (Then again, with V coming into town tomorrow, I can take solace in the fact that beer is made from whole grain...)

Sunday, September 24, 2006


179.5: My weight as of Friday, just about the highest I've ever been.
270: The count of my total cholesterol.
100-199: The healthy range of cholesterol. (The doctor wanted to start me on some medication, I said I'd make a more concerted effort to eat better before our next appointment in December.)

112: Approximate number of miles I considered driving today to bail a friend out of jail.
187: Approximate number of miles said friend was going to drive to pay me a visit last night. (Oh yeah, it was my Aggie friend who was making the trip.)

5: Number of hours I've spent outside my home during this long weekend. Been in quite the funk the last few days. How to get out of it, I'm still wondering.

23: Number of days I'm into the sabbatical.
2: Number of women who have sent me messages through online dating sites over the last couple of days. (What timing...)

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

I had another "genius" idea pop into my head today.

Since I've got Friday off, and no committments other than a doctor's appointment that morning, why not take a road trip?

The only problem? Where to go. Probably not on as grand a scale as one I plotted last year, but I'm feeling the need to get out of town. But where?

Dallas to take in "big city life"?
Houston to see some friends?
College Station to get my rocks off?
Corpus Christi to remind myself of how brown the Gulf is?
Somewhere else?

Feel free to drop any suggestions of things to see/do/eat this weekend in the comments.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

From Seed Magazine, via

The Media Assault on Male Body Image

Maybe it's not just me...

Friday, September 15, 2006

At 10:51 this morning, I turned down sex.

I've spent the rest of the day convincing myself it was a good idea.

She's the friend of a friend who I met a few years ago. Currently, she lives in College Station. We've been fuck buddies for a while now, our last encounter coming about three or four years ago (whenever it was that John McCain was on Saturday Night Live, don't ask me how I remember that). She did state that I was the most skilled person she'd been with, which is a bit scandalous considering the whole Aggie-Longhorn thing.

The other night, she sent me a text message celebrating the fact that she had just quit her job at a pet store. Two days and approximately 150 text messages later, we had made tentative plans for her to drive from Houston to see me on Saturday. The plan wasn't even for hanging out or anything, just sex.

This morning, while getting ready for work, all sorts of thoughts went through my head, including...

  • How would this affect the sabbatical?
  • Would my performance meet her expectations?
  • What would Jesus do?
  • Am I going to be okay for work on Sunday?
  • My place is REALLY gonna need cleaning...

A moment of moral clarity came on the drive into work, while Harvey Danger's "Flagpole Sitta" was on the radio. (I have a feeling that will be the only time in recorded history that sentence will be typed.) During my first break, I sent the following:

I'm not sure it's a good idea if you visit Saturday. Been going through some
stuff lately, not sure if messing around will help matters. Hope you

Earnest, if not honest. She replied that she did, and that was that. Since then, I've been trying to see if there's anyway to go back. But, after talking with G about it, I guess I did end up doing the right thing. (She did say she was proud of me, and that's got to count for something, right?)

Anyway, instead of hot sweaty monkey sex, I get to watch hot sweaty guys play football tomorrow. At least there's a possibility of barbecue involved...

Thursday, September 14, 2006

So, what do you want?

An ode to one of the favorite politicians of my youth? Some more reflections on my dad's illness? A status of the sabbatical? My thoughts on the latest ratings stunt? An intorduction to my new favorite blogger?

Sorry. Not here, not now. You'll just have to settle for a web version of the grade-school favorite, MASH.

(As for my future? See below...)

Thursday, September 07, 2006

I apologize for the rambling and length of this post in advance. (One of these days, I'll learn how to make those cool cut links...)

Yesterday afternoon, I decided to work out for the first time in a long time. 30 minutes of interval training on the elliptical, some ab work, and some lifting. After showering, I found two voicemails on my phone, both from my folks. The first asking if they could come over, the second asking to call when I got the message. I called, and my dad asked if I could come over. They'd make me dinner, so obviously, I said I'd be there.

On the way there, my mind raced with the possibilities. "Maybe they want to tell me the good news in person... maybe they can't say what they're going to say over the phone..."

When I got there, my mom was warming up some leftover sausage, rice and beans. I sat down at the dinner table and asked what happened. My mom (still standing a bit away from the table fixing me a plate) broke the news to me.

About the actual condition: it's stage T2A. In layman's term's still fairly early, only on one of the two lobes of the prostate. (I have a feeling there's gonna be a lot more biology on this blog in the coming months...) From what I always hear, early detection is key in treatment, so thank goodness for that.

My dad said he has three options: wait and see what happens, radiation therapy, or surgery to remove it. Each option has its own risks, so he didn't tell me which one he was leaning towards.

The drive home wasn't that great. The thought crossed my mind of calling the ex for support. (No, I haven't done it yet, and don't plan to.) I did end up calling Laura, and left a voicemail. I was somewhat surprised with how well I took it. Maybe it was because of the severity (or lack thereof) of my dad's condition. Maybe it means I'm actually becoming a mature adult.

Work helped get my mind off the situation. (Again, it's amazing how much angry clients can take your mind off personal matters.) Dinner from Subway and a trip to the walking track was how I spent most of tonight. During the walk, some old demons decided to make their presence known again. On the way home, Laura called. After a few second of (unintended) dramatic pause, I broke the news to her. She actually expected me to be upset over a girl. We talked for a few minutes while I drove home.

Before last night, I had ignorantly thought that cancer was something that happened to other people. Now I'm wondering on which box I might have packed the LiveStrong wristband I wore back in the day.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

A month ago, I went to my parents' house for dinner. I saw something on the calendar for early September, written in red to signify great importance. Prostate check, my dad told me. Seemed normal enough for a man within shouting distance of his 60th birthday.

A week ago, my dad went through his tests. He was a bit worse for wear, but in good spirits overall. (My mom seemed to take joy in telling me that he ended up having to wear one of her Kotex pads.)

An hour ago, I went to my parents' house for dinner.

My dad has prostate cancer.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Copied from a post to my myspace blog from last night...

Take some soul-searching, some straight talk from a friend, and loads of greasy food, shake well, and you get me the last few days. Not to go into too much detail here, but let's just say I've been all over the place.

In order to get some sense of sanity back into my life, I've come up with an idea: a month without dating.

30 days without worrying about what the fairer sex may think of me. (Which may be good or bad...) A month to get my house in order, both figuratively and literally.

Ladies, sorry to say, but this brown boy is off the market until October 1. (Which just happens to be Yom Kippur. Not that there's any meaning to that...) After that, who knows? If nothing else, this will be a good time to save money, gas and embarrassment.

Monday, September 04, 2006


You two are a pair of liars. You looked so nice on the shelf of my friend's store. And mud flaps! How novel!

But why did you have to go and chew up my heel tonight during my run/jog/walk? You didn't do it last night. Was it due to overwork? If that's the case, I'll not overburden you guys. But I'm trying to look somewhat presentable for my 10-year reunion in October, and you guys ruining my feet aren't helping matters.

Need breaking in? Sure, I'll bend the back of the shoe until it becomes as bendy as my old girlfriend. Help me help you...


Sunday, September 03, 2006


From an e-mail sent a couple of weeks ago that answers a question posed here...

FROM: Greg
TO: profgrrrrl
Date: Aug 20, 2006 9:00 PM
Subject: RE:Well ... have you tried to kiss her yet?

I did. And that's where things get interesting.

First off, some background. She's a 30-year-old microbiologist. We metat a downtown bar. She was at a wedding earlier, I was at another bar earlier. I was out to celebrate my friend V's birthday (she came into SA for the occasion). Being a good wingwoman, V asked themicrobiologist (also named V) if she was "single and on the prowl." She said yes, and I ended up with her phone number.

We've been out three times since then. The first time, meeting up at a beer joint, followed by joining her friend's birthday party at a posh Italian restaurant and dancing at a newly opened club. The second time, meeting up at another beer bar, then joining her friends for some two-steppin'. The other night, meeting up at a nice restaurant, then going to a jazz club to listen to a pretty good quartet.

Thursday night, I barely got up the nerve to hold her hand. I don't know about you, but I suck at reading people and their vibes. Almost like I need some sort of vibe radar. (Yes, it does sound funny when said fast, but stay with me here...)

At the end of it all, after I walked her to her car, I gave her a hug, then tried to kiss her. I ended up kissing her right cheek. From this, I get the feeling (or am jumping to a conclusion) that she likes me as a friend. Which is fine, I suppose, but I figure I have enough friends. (55 on myspace, at last count.)

I hung out with another gal for most of the day today, but I get the feeling she has the same platonic vibe as well (the Dane she met in England over the summer probably doesn't help my cause much). Not thatI'm trying to put pressure for any of these women to be my girlfriend (I believe I was warned about that in a previous blog post), but I'm just trying to find some way to effectively communicate that I'm interested in them being more than just friends.

Sorry for the rambling, just wanted to get my thoughts out of my head. This may show up on the blog soon...

Your Friendly Neighborhood Brown Boy,