There was this infomercial on TV when I was a kid. It was a language learning system for children that used cartoons to teach French¹. There was this one part that stuck with me, “Je suis une jeune fille.” I would repeat it any time I heard something that sounded remotely European. This continued on until I was 15 or 16 when a friend of mine asked me if I knew what it meant. I did not. She informed me that I was proudly telling the world that “I am a young girl.”

My lingual faux pas² did not stop there. When I moved to Dallas for college³ I befriended a lovely Columbian girl at my school. We spent quite a bit of time together regardless of the fact that she was not entirely fluent in English. After several months I started to become attached to her and I felt the need to express it in her native tongue. For weeks I would tell her “te quiero.” I felt clever and happy that I knew how to tell her “I like you.” I was mortified when I realized I had been telling her “I want you.⁴″

It’s embarrassing when you say the wrong thing. A little joke about “What’s really on your mind?” or simply “I meant to say…” will usually get you out of trouble. But when you find that you’ve been repeating nonsense or, worse, phrases with meanings that you did not intend, there’s no real way to recover. Lo que será, será.

I’d like to see more blogs with well written personal stories, witty social commentary, and a return of the manifesto. I want the funny events, random pictures, and interesting links from Twitter to channel Chuck Klosterman and add a couple thousand characters. I want Twitter Plus.

Caught up in the hype and logical fallacy, I set out to do something really meaningful. I wanted to create a masterpiece, invent something that would change life as we know it, or do something else really incredible. So what did I do on such a special day?

I spent time with family, celebrating life. We ate, talked, and shopped. So I didn’t invent the next light bulb or paint the next Mona Lisa, but today—this weekend really—was memorable in that I was surrounded by family.

I was never any good though. In fact, I spent most of my time falling. I fell off stairs, I fell off walls, I fell off rails, and I fell off ramps. I fractured ribs, I scraped up limbs, and I ended up with this nasty scar on my hip.

One day I was going as fast as I could down a nice steep hill. The asphalt a blur under me. I pushed hard. Left, right, left, right, imagining myself as an olympic speed skater (you know the guys with the five wheel skates). And then, in some random spark of youthful retardation I became aware that I should try a little jump.

My knees bent and pushed–I felt the vibration in my feet cease as my feet left the ground. We have lift-off! My skates came together. The goal was to point them off to my left, a quick jab and back on the blacktop. But sometimes what we envision is not what happens in reality. I became aware that I was once again about to fall.

My feet had not returned to their forward facing position. And when they once again conected with the pavement I found my body careening through the air. Something I had not anticipated. My hand touched down, my right hip followed, and I came to a grinding halt on the pavement.

There was a sizable wound on my hip. No blood, just a pulsing, bluish tissue. Sometime after my mother scraped the asphalt out of my hands and before she poured the hydrogen peroxide into the hole in my side the tissue started to bleed, which sent both my mother and sister into terror.

“I’m fine,” I said, cooly, as if nothing had happened. They shrieked and buzzed around like bees. In the end it healed up alright–about the size of a nickle. This is the first time I’ve ever admitted to sucking at skating though. That one will probably take a while longer to heal up.

1. Eating food
2. Design/typography
3. Companionship
4. Boating or camping on Lake Powell
5. Talking to my kids on the phone
6. Athiesm/Agnosticism
7. Riding a motorcycle
8. Watching a sci-fi flick
9. New music and live shows
10. Learning new stuff
11. Smoking, oh how I miss it!
12. Traveling (US or abroad)
13. The interwebz
14. Writing, mostly blogging
15. Linux and the GPL
16. Think tanks
17. Sex, nuf said
18. Vector illustration
19. Asian emoticons (#^_^#)
20. Being vegetarian

A few reasons for the hiatus:

• My breath literally smells like shit
• I can be a support to those around me
• I feel like I’ve been smoking too much

Of course I’ll save money and probably be healthier as a result. Or maybe not…

Today I found myself eating to distract myself. I had a cup of coffee, a soda, two Red Bulls, a cocktail, a bag of Quaker Granola Bites, a package of Hostess Donettes, M&M’s, and chocolate chip cookies (not including lunch and dinner). Holy shit, fatty!

So why do I smoke to begin with? Stress and boredom are the biggest reasons. I’m used to doing it to fill space. So I guess It’s time to get creative.

While I’m at work it helps to take small walks, drink water, and listen to podcasts to keep me from getting bored. It gets tough at home though. I used to smoke when I got home from work, then again after dinner, and again before bed. Those slots can be filled with writing and watching movies. Painting sounds fun too–something to do with my hands I guess.

Last time I quit smoking I noticed something interesting that I’d like to take advantage of this time around. I get very meditative. Each breath is deeper, more purposeful. They feel better. My mind (while scattered and a little melancholy) seems to find greater meaning in the everyday things. A walk around the office is contemplative.

I don’t know how this is going to pan out. I’m not optimistic, and honestly, I’m only barely motivated. Will I start again tonight, or make it until November? I do know that if this is really going to happen, I’m going to need to be a hell of a lot more convinced.

• Does the issue happen often?
• Is there a larger issue contributing to this one?
• Does the offense seem out of the ordinary?
• Are your expectations too high?
• Is it abusive? E.g. lying, betrayal, or controlling behavior.
• Is bringing it up going to be productive?
• Are you ready to deal with the consequences of bringing it up?

Additionally, there are several hot-button issues, namely, trust, finances, sex, child-rearing, and relatives. If it’s not one of these issues it may not be big enough to tackle.

One thing the article doesn’t mention is actually bringing the issue up. Of course this would take a post of its own to flesh out with any justice, but I thought it would be useful to throw in my two cents anyway. If you do decide to bring it up consider the circumstances:

• Have you thought it over?
• Is it late at night or early in the morning?
• Are you or the other person tired, hungry, or intoxicated?
• Are you or the other person at work or otherwise distracted?
• Are you having a great time? Would it be worth interrupting?

If you answer “no” to any of those questions you should probably wait until a more appropriate time to discuss the issue at hand.

Oddly enough, I’ve never really thought about the movie from a plot perspective. Three well-meaning actors lose their jobs, and take a job in Mexico under the pretense that it is with one of the most famous actors in South America. When they find out it’s the real thing they run away, tails tucked. In the end they grab their gajones and save the village.

Come to think of it, my life has been a lot like that of the Three Amigos: Well intentioned, I made the wrong move. Despondent, I walked hopelessly through desert. Then the realization came. I reinvented myself. I didn’t save a village from the “Evil! Murdering! Villaneous! El Guapo,” but I have managed to create a peaceful life that’s better than ever. It just wasn’t as funny to watch.

Texas feels a lot like Arizona, but the humidity makes it miserable. I used to call Texas the “armpit of America,” not because I didn’t like the place, but because it felt like an armpit. A giant armpit so filled with sweat that a herd of manatees would feel right at home.

I’d say that Texans probably experience a substantial degree of weather-envy when it comes to the humidity. Of course Texas has Austin which somehow offsets the fact that the universal descriptor for any city in Texas is “muggy.”

Mardi Gras used to be the scapegoat for Louisiana. Sure it was still hot, but at least nobody had to wear shirts. Now all they have is heat, humidity and a really hard name to spell.

See how this works? Arizona has a giant hole in the ground…not nearly as impressive as half naked people dancing in the streets. So Mother Nature had to give us a break on the humidity thing.

But Cambodia seriously got the short end of the stick. It’s hotter than Phoenix, and more humid than Houston. So maybe shirts are optional but lets face it, poverty does not offset poor weather. We should all be happy we don’t live in Cambodia.