Salty feelings

Do any of you guys ever get the feeling like either too much of the world is into all the same things you’re interested in, or perhaps you yourself are too much like the rest of the world, and are more or less falling in line with a parade of similarly behavioral people?   I’ve been feeling like this recently.

When I was a broody moody teenager, I recall taking great lengths in deliberately going in directions that “everyone else” went.  Whether it was class selection, choice in artistic expressions, to simply things like routes I drove, and the things I decided to do.  I was trying to differentiate from the crowd, and it required effort.

Eventually, and it’s probably closest to my current state of being, I simply stopped trying, and kind of let life dictate itself as if it were water flowing, moving constantly, but at a default motion.  However, by doing such, lately I feel like in spite of my past efforts, when the day is over, I’m not quite the unique butterfly that I like to think everyone likes to think they are sometimes.

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This stuff writes itself

Long story short: WWE wrestler Daniel Bryan comes home, discovers two men fleeing after breaking into his residence, gives chase, catches one, takes him down and puts him in a chokehold until authorities arrive.

I know people think wrestling is all fake and all, but it’s stories like this that I always get a ton of enjoyment out of, because in spite of the scripted storylines and predetermined match outcomes, the physicality of wrestling is still very real.

It’s apparent that the burglars had to know they were breaking into Daniel Bryan’s home, because it’s implied that they might have been the ones to have done it ten days prior.  Clearly, they had no fear of robbing a person who emulates violence for a living, or the repercussions that could have occurred if they ran into said person, since they tried.

What’s funny to me is that Daniel Bryan’s first instinct to do upon catching the crook, was a wrestling maneuver.  Sure, he does it for a living, but in the land of reality, a physical strike of some sort would be my first instinct.  When I chased off the two thugs that broke into my house while I was home, I ran at them with a metal baseball bat, and thoughts of putting them into a LaBell Lock with it were the last thing in my mind.

Regardless, DB takes the guy down and puts him in a rear-naked choke until the cops arrive.  The best part about it is his complete discount of a guy whom he acted upon first, without even considering if he were armed or not:

“He was very, very tired and it literally took zero effort to take him down,”

One of these days, I’m going to defeat someone at something, and I’m going to use the phrase “literally took zero effort” regardless of it were true or not.  It’s so arrogant and self-championing that I can’t help but love it.

I’m not sure if this overtakes Chris Masters’ uprooting of a tree to use as a battering ram to rescue his mother from a burning home.  Actually, it doesn’t, because nothing is more entertaining than Chris Masters uprooting an entire tree to use as a battering ram to rescue his mother from a burning home.  But it’s still pretty awesome that Daniel Bryan ran down a burglar and choked him out, in “the real world.”

Maybe I should have just gotten the body

Camera body, that is.  It probably would have been way less work.  No, it definitely would have been.

So, since I embarked on a journey to try and get a new digital camera for the cheapest total cost possible, I went the route of spending a pretty penny for the camera, as well as a whole bunch of shit that I don’t need, because there was a mail-in rebate that basically halved the total price spent.  In addition, there was the gamble of selling all the extraneous goods, to bring the total cost down even further; but that would require work.

Work, I thought that wouldn’t be so bad, because I had my eye glued to the bottom line, that in hindsight, now seems so very far away.

Long story short, I haven’t even listed all the crap I want to sell on eBay yet, because of all the aforementioned work.  I’m researching what my old camera can realistically sell for, as well as all the accessories that I’m trying to flip, and since I’m already going to go on an eBay selling spree, a few other select items that have been sitting around and collecting dust that I think I might  be able to make some quick sales with.

And then there’s research on shipping costs, all while trying not to overly micro-manage weight, box sizes, packing safety, and all this nonsense.

If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll have my auctions up and running at some point this weekend, but then there’s factoring in the optimal time to start a listing, so that people on the west coast can also view and gain interest on the things I’m selling, and preferably while they’re at their boring menial jobs, and more apt to compulsively shop.

Sometimes I think I should have just plunked down the $450 and gotten the camera body.  If that were the case, I’d really only be attempting to unload my old camera, and could feasibly bring my total cost down to something maybe not quite as great as what I think might be my current end result, but with far less tedious work involved.

Perhaps my perspective will change if my auctions go swimmingly, and I make a good bit of money back on my gamble, with the eventual mail-in rebate being like a cherry on top.

Virginia is the worst place in the country to drive

Whatever a traffic sign estimates in Virginia, assume it to be double, for accuracy.

Typically, whenever I visit my old stomping grounds, I fly into whichever Northern Virginia airport has the most availability (usually DCA), and then I’m at the mercy of whomever is willing to give me rides or let me borrow cars, in order to do my business or get from point A to B on my own volition.

Over the span of the last year or so, be it for a myriad of circumstances, I’ve grown really weary over the notion of traveling in and out of the greater Washington D.C. area airports.  Old convention doesn’t seem to apply like it used to.  I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a trip where I didn’t get tragically locked in place in some leg of my trip.  Demand to or from D.C. is unpredictable and completely without logic, and I’ve had flights that looked open fill up at the drop of a hat due to weather, or some giant student group being unaccounted for until it was time to board the plane.

Needless to say, I took an opportunity to try something new during my last visit up to Virginia, because in theory it seemed like a very good idea: fly into Richmond, pick up rental car, drive to NOVA, Charlottesville, NOVA, Richmond, and leave from Richmond.  Richmond has direct flights to and from Atlanta, is a smaller airport with a smaller demand to and from Atlanta, and with a rental car, I wouldn’t have to inconvenience anyone for rides, or take time away from them.

In the end, it turned out to be a pretty good trip: I made it to Richmond in one try, and in spite of a car rental reservation snafu, I actually managed to come out slightly better with a daily rate.  I saw my friend sing the National Anthem at one game, I collected bobbleheads with other friends and another game. My extended family was clearly too shell-shocked at my appearance at a family function to bother lecturing me, I spent some time with both my parents, as well as my sister and her kids, and I left from Richmond on my first try with no difficulty.

Everything about my trip went pretty well; except for one thing:

Having to drive in the Commonwealth of Virginia.

It’s the worst place in the country to drive.

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The answer is always yes

In moments of frustration, have you ever asked the types of rhetorical questions that are directed to people responsible for said frustration, regardless of if they can even hear you or not?

“Is _____ really that difficult?”
“Is your job really that difficult?”
“Is driving a car really that hard?”
“Is it really that difficult to use your turn signal?”
“Is it really that difficult to re-rack your weights?”
“Is it really that hard to wipe down that bench?”
“Is parallel parking really that hard?”
“Is parking really that difficult?”
“Is it really that hard to check your email?”
“Are you really that stupid?”
“Are you really that dense?”
“Are you really that oblivious?”

And the list goes on and on.  I ask these kinds of things often.  Sadly, it’s taken me longer than it probably takes other people to realize that in 100% of these inquiries, the answer is always yes.

So lately, whenever I reflexively blurt out these questions, or ask these things in my head, I actually have to consciously remind myself that the answer yes.

When it comes to the rhetorical questions, inquiring about the difficulty of common human behaviors, the answer is always yes.

That being said, I am apparently very good at many, many, many difficult things.