Immerse Your Soul in Love's blog: "You're not who you think you are."

I live in a small college town, which is great because it greatly increases the amount of random shit you are a witness to.

It’s 8:45 Sunday morning. I’m driving to church. It’s cool, maybe 50 degrees, overcast and a misty rain is falling. A young lady is walking towards me. She’s a big one, and I notice her from a distance. She is wearing a slightly outdated emerald green formal. She’s a college sophomore or junior, definitely not a high school girl and when I say, “She is a big one”, I mean five five or five six, two thirty, at least.

This time of year is spring formal for many of the fraternities. I wasn’t in a fraternity in college so I don’t know how many of these things work, but I don’t think it is supposed to end this way.

She doesn’t look happy. She looks fucking pissed. Here hair is completely disheveled, half out of last night’s upsweep. Heels in one hand, purse and keys in the other. Her strand of fake pearls is longer doubled, and hangs below her sizable belly. She crosses the street in front of me. The back of her dress is slightly zipped up, stopping just below her bra’s cross strap.

She continues down the street, looking for home, a ride or maybe her car. The rain intensifies. Her hungover head slumps.

I’m strangely proud of her for realizing before 9am that she need to get the fuck out of wherever her night ended, only a few hours earlier. Have only to have had my camera.

I’m headed home, my last stop is 27F.

27A & 27B two teenage brothers, 27C aisle, 27D open (score!), 27E late 40’s mother, 27F stolen by 27D, a father in his late 40’s. Now seat stealing isn’t a major offense in my world. It’s two and a half hours of my life, so window, aisle, I can deal either way.

But you probably shouldn’t steal my seat, splitting up your family, then proceed to talk to and pass shit over me across the aisle to your family.

My petty, passive-aggressive streak kicks in. 27F refuses to open the window shade on a sunny afternoon when we’re headed for a cloudy, rainy destination. I click on my reading lights. 27E, clearly cold and trying to sleep, so I crank my air point it only half on me, half on her left arm and proceed bang on my laptop keyboard for the next hour.

Paradise comes with a price that you must be prepared to pay.

A little known fun-fact about me is that I am one of six straight males in the Midwest who have impeccable, if not exquisite, taste in women's shoes. Today, an Italian professor put some science behind my near fetish. So a big thank you Dr. Curruto and to the world's best, not the finest, news source for providing some science behind my lust and for publicizing that science. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/7225828.stm

Last night I’m imbibing at the local watering hole with three of my friends. I’m in jeans and a button down, but they are all in dress clothes. The bar is dead, three people at the bar and then our table of four, so as her only table, we are receiving a lot of attention from our waitress. None of us minded, we’re all early 30’s and attached while the waitress is a 20-year-old blond college student who is very attractive, but Very Stupid. She’s already told us about her lucky sequined shirt which she is wearing under her work t-shirt, her trip to the nearby town to visit a rodeo museum, and that she is a psychology major, but doesn’t know what to do with herself. About 11:45 our waitress wants to say, “I want to go home, don’t you guys have jobs to go to tomorrow?”, but she more politely asks, “What do you for do for a living?” Without giving us time to answer she says, “I bet you’re truckers, and are in town today, so you had the chance to booze tonight.” Dressed as we are, none of us are easily mistakable for a trucker. I respond, “I’m not a trucker but I have a suicide wheel on my Honda.” Waitress, “Ok, we need to stop talking now. I own a truck, a Ford, and you should all drive Fords. Ford, Ford, Ford, Ford!” pointing at each of us in succession, me last. Me, her finger still pointed toward my chest, “So you’re a buy American type?” Waitress, pause, processing, pause, accusingly blurts, “I can’t believe you just asked if I was bi.”

My significant other takes her birthday Very, Very seriously. After 5 years, I've yet to surprise her with a gift because she's so sneaky about it. Last week, for her birthday, I finally pulled off the perfect surprise and flew out her best friend from the East Coast out to visit. A wonderful gift by any measure -- a beautiful 29 year-old fitness instructor/nurse who's is my SLF's best friend and look-alike (photo soon). The visitor and my SLF love to party together and the Red Bull Vodka's were the drink of choice. On the way back from the airport, we stopped at the discount retailer to get a six-pack of Red Bull and a bow to put on both the visitor and the Red Bull. I causally say we won't need a bag. The clerk asks if it is a gift. My guest says, "Yes, I'm the other half of the gift." I say, "Yes, for my SLF." It was a good weekend.

I was pretty pissed off today when I saw the networks and the writers' guild were nearing a settlement on their impasse. This writers' strike has been quite the little boon for my sex life! Not that I was a big TV watcher prior to the strike, but I am generally a big labor kind of guy and I really like sex. Don't get me wrong, I miss "The Office" and "The Daily Show". The newly formatted "A Daily Show" just isn't cutting it (kind of like Jon Stewart's stand up), but I couldn't give a shit about anything else on the tele that isn't news. So I'll take the sex. I read on CNN that 90 million people were expected to watch the Super Bowl. What the fuck are the other 210 million people doing? Everyone I know watches that shit. The tv was on today, and the Nurse is asleep on the couch.

My dog broke my Special Lady Friend's nose last week. I live in a great old turn-of-the-century home with beautiful wood floors. In front of our couch we have a rug. My SLF was laying on said couch trying to rest after a night shift. Our dog, who is very mild mannered, but excitable was roosting around when the SLF called her. Predictably the pooch ran across the wood floor Scooby Doo style, spinning everywhere. When the dog reached the rug she vaulted from about 2mph to around 95mph in less than six feet. Porsche, Mercedes Benz, or even Maserati would be proud with that acceleration, but it wasn't good for the SLF's nose. At least blood and mucus are easy to clean up off wood floors. The SLF works with trauma all the time and it was an impressive sight when she reset her now crooked and flat nose. I asked her what gave her the strength to painful wrench her nose back like that and she just said, "I was scared it would stay that way if I didn't do it."

The guy that I share an office with is hooking up with the office hot chick. He has been since the summer. As details of their affair come to light because of my officemates now pending divorce the "slut" double standard has been fully exposed in my office. And surprisingly, I couldn't be more disappointed by how the men in the office have reacted. Every one of the females in our office has been negative to the hottie, who does happen to be quite personable, not particularly good at her job, but she is Very, VERY attractive. Distractingly hot, which I suppose doesn't help her cause with the double standard. And predictably, every one of the males in our building has been congratulating my office mate about his conquest. The whole thing annoys me, but especially the males reactions. I'm not one to discriminate about divorce or infidelity -- my divorce was one of the best things that has ever happened for me. But what's with all of the guys in my office being so sophomoricly aggressive about their congratulations? The guy is a mess and I have to deal with a whole ton of bullshit! You should be buying me beers for being the shoulder to cry on.

You can't even binge on Cock Pasta anymore in Norway without being reminded of how terrible it is for you. Fucking fascists. http://www.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUSN1356867420071113?feedType=RSS&feedName=oddlyEnoughNews

Apparently "Family Values" religious right types aren't just hypocrites in this country, they are hypocrites in Australia as well. http://www.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUSSYD15660920071029?feedType=RSS&feedName=oddlyEnoughNews