Pubelic Humiliation

I received a call from my darling little cousin Tierney a few weeks ago. She left a message saying, "Oh my God Steve! I can't believe... hold on your mom is calling me... click" What kind of message is that. What a little sharkface! So I called her back from her abandoned message and here's what the message was regarding... I'll include the backstory.

Alright, so a few weeks ago I informed the world at large of my move to shave "the gotee" out of my life. And I did. An item that incites as much emotional reaction as a grotesque gotee must not be eradicated from a peoples without some great action to accompany it. Thus I decided to inform my gotee's two most distinct rivals of their ultimate victory over the feared beard. So I did what any rational human being would do... I saved the hair I shaved off, separated it into two equal groups, and inserted into two envelopes. On one, I wrote "Mom," on the other I wrote "Tammy." I must inform those who do not know, I am my mother's only child, so she had an easy enough time knowing that the contents of the envelope (not containing a "From") were indeed from her beloved child, how proud she was. My aunt (Tammy), however, was not given the clue of "Aunt" preceding her name to allow her to know that the envelope was from me.

Upon opening the envelope and finding it full of short curly hairs, she freaked out. She had no clue who it was from... negligence on my part. My mom found her envelope first and told me I should put a "from" on it for my aunt, but my car was in the shop and I wasn't able to make it over there to correct my mistake. Annnnnyway, my aunt, in her panic, calls the cops. They show up and she wants them to get fingerprints. They exclaim "We can't get fingerprints off of hair." "THE ENVELOPE, GET THEM OFF THE ENVELOPE!" my aunt calmly responds.

She's wondering who would do such a thing. They have a maid also named Tammy who was there the previous day, and they wonder if it was hers. Who would commit such a hate crime? What sick-minded pervert could possibly have the audacity to disgust a decent American family with such a lewd act?

Her daughters are telling her that it must be a joke. But my aunt is still freaked until she finds out (dun, dun, dunnnnnn) it was me. Once she discovers the culprit, she thinks it's hysterical. She calls my other aunt, Trina, and they laugh until they almost pee. I had heavily considered splitting the hair into three parts, and including Trina, since she despised it too. I'm just glad Tammy wasn't mad. And days later when I visited, the envelope was sitting next to their kitchen sink, as if it was waiting to be used or further discussed when company was over. Weird... but so am I.

Steve Love... Steve Hate

Does anybody else ever get to points in their lives where they realize it's time to take inventory. You just aren't quite who you want to be or your life isn't quite what you thought it would be. Then you ask yourself, "what needs to stay and what needs to go?"

I'm having one of those now I think, which is typical every year or two. So I'm going to work at reinventing myself in some ways. I'm not totally sure what that even means, but it seems right. I feel a little like George Costanza when he realizes doing everything opposite of his normal inclinations gives drastic, and great, results.

I definitely want to start putting myself out there more. Meeting new people, doing new things. Do the things I'm often too timid or scared to do or say. Parts of my life are definitely progressing very well and I'm pleased with what God has placed before me, but there are other areas that need some change.

Change and reinvention sometimes require not progress, but regression. Such as, the ever popular Steve love, Steve hate lists. I was hanging out with Kristin last night, and these came up at some point, and I was glad to reminisce.

So without further adieu, a sampling:

• Steve love vegetables
• Steve love puppies
• Steve love the gym
• Steve love cute girls
• Steve love Redbox
• Steve love "spring forward"
• Steve love his semi-new Mac laptop
• Steve love small business
• Steve love Rojo-Tron

• Steve hate paying for car inspections
• Steve hate bleu cheese
• Steve hate that he is watching American Idol this season
• Steve hate wrinkled clothes
• Steve hate when Redboxes don't work
• Steve hate doing dishes
• Steve hate stimulus package
• Steve hate Twitter

Although Steve hate Twitter, Steve think that the "Steve hate/love" idea would be a much better rendition of Twitter.

Last night, as I was at Kristin's, which has been a more regular event lately, and we decided to play The Office board game. I went to my car to get it, and found the Legos from Campus Life a few days earlier. I was excited and brought in a container of legos. As I played with my childhood building blocks, nobody joined me :( But Kristin told me I should build Rojo-Tron.

Rojo-Tron started about a week earlier when a group of peeps were playing Settlers of Catan at Kristin's (it's a popular place). I have this habit of taking my unused pieces from the game, and creating characters or faces or whatever out of them. This particular night I was the red player, so all my pieces were red. I formed a robot looking figure out of my unused road, settlement, and city blocks. In my witty fashion, I named with robot "Rojo-Tron," a play on Robotron, substituting the Spanish word for red, "rojo." You think I'm dumb, but it was fun then.

So I spent the evening creating a mostly red rendition of Rojo-Tron out of legos. It was fun. He now lives at Kristin's house, so maybe she'll take a picture and send it to me so I can upload it to my blog. The best part of Rojo-Tron is that he carries a briefcase and aspires to be a ballerina.

Another eventful moment from last night was an incredible "That's what she said!" I feel that I cannot repeat it because it is kind of bad, but was innocent in its original context... until Kristin said, "That's what she said." And we were grossed out and filled with laughter.

So on that note, I want to let all my readers know, if you aren't being an active part of my life right now, you should be. I'm pretty freakin' awesome and I create sweet inside jokes, like "Special Bill." I bet most of you have no idea what I'm talking about. Yeah that's right, you wish you knew!

Yeah, I farted, jealous?

Ok, I'm just being weird now.

Forgive me. Farewell.