The one-sided battle between Trumpet Rob and Sax Dan

35. I’ve been to 33 states in the U.S., 10 in Mexico, and 1 in Australia. I still haven’t visited Canada, but that’ll have to wait until Moof asks me.

It occurred to me today that I always mention Trumpet Rob to my friend Daniel, but never the reverse.

Pixelation: Have I ever told you about my friend Daniel?

Trumpie: I don’t think so. Which shoulder is he on?

Pixelation: It’s hilarious, because every time I mention you to him, he says, “Fuck Trumpet Rob!” … He thinks you’re the Pennsylvanian version of him.

Trumpie: HAHA

Pixelation: When Sandy came to visit, she kept teasing him by saying, “Oh, Trumpet Rob wouldn’t say that… I wonder what he’s doing now…” in a nostalgic tone.

Trumpie: Fuck Danny boy

Pixelation: HA HA HA HA

Trumpie: haha

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Oh, yeah, and I’m presenting at a conference this week

34.  I did not get drunk until I was 20.  And to this day, I’ve probably only gotten tipsy a dozen times or so.

Wow, aside from getting into two good grad schools, I was also accepted at a conference.  I just forgot to say anything about it before because I was too busy posting transcripts of text messages between myself and a 14-year-old girl. (Oh, update: she called me yesterday.  I hung up as soon as I figured out who she was.  Friggin’ weird.)

So, if you’re in the borderland (you’re not), check out Ray Room 309 E in the University of Texas at El Paso at 9 a.m. this Saturday.  Updates to come later, but first I need to make a powerpoint presentation with sound effects.

*PPSSHHWINGGGG!!!*

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I’d say it to your face, if I hadn’t been waiting for you to leave first

33.  I pretend to be a guy who pretends to be all sorts of things that I really am.  It’s like being a guy who dresses up as a woman dressing up as a man.  For instance, I bombastically claim to know a lot about typeface (which seems like I’m making fun of a caricature of myself) yet actually do know a lot about type.  It’s a game I play to make something true sound false and vice versa.  Meta enough for you?

Some people refuse to talk about other people at all.  You might not believe it, but it’s true.  In fact, the deaf community is very large.  For the rest of us, it’s a fine line we have to walk.

On the one hand, nobody wants to go back to middle school when they were afraid of life-altering reputation loss at every step.  On the other, vital information is often conveyed about people that it would be foolish for each person to have to discover on their own.  Furthermore, sometimes, talking trash can be cathartic.

Take for example this week.  Duke University flew out seven prospective grad students, or “prospies,” in an attempt to convince them that Duke was more bad-ass than their other options.  We soon realized that not all prospies are created equal.

All people are a mixed bag, but prospies seemed to be even more so.  Just because a person attended Stanford, Oxford, or Princeton, doesn’t mean that they know their stuff or that they should speak.  Ever.

The person I’m specifically thinking about is one short, plump, 30+ year old Mormon that insisted on establishing the fact that she was of Mexican descent.  To me.  Constantly.  I mean, I know I look white as shit.  But I AM a legit Mexican, complete with language, culture, history, heritage, friends, family, and travel.  She was not.  I don’t know why I always seem to meet people with questionable Hispanic credentials that feel the need to show them off.

This particular girl was a half-Mexican white girl that said the word “Latina” more often to me in two days than I’ve ever heard in my life.  I thought I was alone in realizing she was crazy until after she left for the final time and we all sighed, hoping she would decide not to accept the offer.

So we talked a bit of trash, sharing anecdotes of her various grandiloquent statements.  What bothered me was why nobody had spoken up before.  Surely it would have saved someone from the torture of speaking to her.  So, to make up for it, we viciously attacked her in absentia ((And absentia)).  Is that so bad?  Is it so bad that we compared her bombastic rambling to Elmer Fudd and her voice and personality to a garbage compactor?

I mean, it’d be bad if we turned around and called her our best friend, but in this case, we would rather never see her again.  I mean, we were just telling it like it is.  It was a straightforward, honest appraisal of her misery as a human being…  She just happened to not be there.

I’d feel bad, but then I think of the reverse.  I imagine my personality does not mesh as well with some people as it does with others.  And, when it doesn’t, I fully expect for them to avoid me.  Out of sight, out of mind, right?  So, I wouldn’t care about those people that avoid me.  And since I can’t reasonably care about what people I avoid think, why would I care about what they said?

… Unless you’ve heard anything… :-/

Last Year: Road tripping along
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I am in North Carolina!

32. Sometimes, when I’m bored in the shower, I shave my legs. I think it’s a bit hypocritical to demand women do it, but not be willing to do it myself. Besides, body hair disgusts me.

Huh, sorry about that. I’ve been visiting Duke for the past few days and I just forgot to tell all of you all. I mean, I understand that I had a really important “Bad times to answer your cell phone” post and I had to make a quantitative list of what makes women attractive to me, but other than that, there’s no excuse. I’m sorry.

Oh, and just so you know: this trip is all kinds of awesome. They’re putting me up in a Hilton (sweet! My own room), and they’ve been lavishing us with rockin’ meals and tours all week. All of the grad students and professors have been phenomenal thus far. And I seem to have hit it off with all of the people that seemed really interesting. (I suppose great minds think alike,,, or maybe I just like people that like me.)

The only thing that scares me is that the apartments are all either really dangerous or expensive. Also, I couldn’t register my facebook profile as “Super Pixel.” Apparently that was red flagged. I was, however, able to create an “Awesome-o McFantastic-o” profile if you need a new friend.

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Nobody falls in love with a résumé

31. I refused to keep a resume until I graduated from college.  I sort of regret that now.  I look much, much worse on paper than I do in real life.

I’m not sure why people always think about attractiveness first when thinking about their ideal lover. Actually, I am sure, I just wish it weren’t the case, as it is such a flimsy basis for anything. Anyway, I’m going to do my own version of Moof’s list. In no particular order, 15 things I want in a lover:

1. Humor. Even if she does not make jokes of her own, she must at least laugh at them. There is, of course, an ideal amount of laughter. A too jolly lady is just as bad as one that is taciturn.
2. Irreverence. That’s the nicest way to say “will put up with my lack of reverence for most things in life.” I’ve had dates end before the meal arrived because of this point.
3. Rationality. I don’t care if she disagrees with everything I say (including if and but), as long as she has thought about the reasons for her points of view.
4. Genius. After high school, intelligence becomes a strange construct, where people can have a different skill set and yet still be as smart. In this case, genius means an area of depth and specialty.
5. Intellectuality. A person can be an intellectual without being educated and smart without being intellectual. Intellectuality is a desire and passion for knowledge.
6. Availability. Yeah, I don’t want to date married chicks. I’m sure they’re great (at least one person thinks so, right?), but I try to avoid drama. You understand.
7. Chemistry. There’s nothing worse than being a few seconds out of sync in a conversation with someone.
8. Communication. I wish I knew Morse code. Failing that, I’d settle for just someone who said what they meant, meant what they said, and shared what they thought.
9. Sincerity. Basically no acerbic, caustic, acid, snide, or sarcastic people. Conversation should flow like a stream, not stall like a minefield.
10. Drive. I have nothing against housewives, I just have nothing in common with them either. Professional womyn are where it’s at for me.
11. Ethicality. That’s not a word, but it should be.  I’d like to date a vegetarian or an environmentalist chick.  That seems like it’d be nice.
12. Patience. Rather, a lack of impatience. There’s nothing scarier than an angry woman.
13. Attractiveness. I suppose I should be attracted to her.  That might help.
14. Fitness. Also, she should not be about to die.
15. Obscurity. To get vague references to poorly thought-out, obscure work.

I write the list, knowing full well that a woman might meet every requirement without being a good mate and vice versa. A person is more than the sum of their parts. Anyone that isn’t is not a very worthwhile person.

Last Year: Pants to Self
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