A Man Ahead of His Time

I am going to tell you something important right now, and I expect you will have one of only two responses. The information? Several years ago, I invented the spaghetti burrito. Your response? Either, "Yeah, sure you did!" or, "What's a spaghetti burrito?"
If yours is the latter response, let me redirect your thoughts so that you might ask the more pertinent question. An understanding of what a spaghetti burrito is is less important than an appreciation for what it does. I mean, sure it appears to be the simple result of placing homemade spaghetti (although other types of pasta are theoretically possible) on a tortilla, grating cheese over the top of it, and wrapping the whole thing up as you would a standard burrito for the purpose of eating it with your hands. True, this makes it taste better, as it is a well known fact in much of the world that food eaten with the hands (as opposed to silverware, chopsticks, shovels, etc.) tastes better. However, this is not the true function (and thus, genius) of the spaghetti burrito. To appreciate this, one must understand the dire situation which led to its discovery.
I have spent much of my adult life living as a bachelor of sorts. And a large portion of that coincided with being a student, and thus technically poor. Between being perpetually low on funds (as any student is), and rather lazy by nature, I struggled to summon the motivation to spend any more than the bare minimum time necessary to prepare meals. They say that you are what you eat. I am living proof that this is a lie, because if it were true I would undoubtedly resemble a plate of the cheapest spaghetti known to mankind. I ate the stuff as often as five times a week. For years. If anyone has eaten more of the stuff than me, I haven't met them. I mean, what could be easier? You boil pasta, drain the water, add a jar of sauce, and heat to taste. I only needed one pot so it was easy to clean up, and I could make enough food to last me for several meals.
You may be asking yourself, "So where did the burrito aspect come in?". The truth is that I didn't particularly care for spaghetti. You can imagine how hard it is to drum up enthusiasm for a meal when roughly 70% of time, it consists of the same thing. To keep up this pace (and thus keep my food budget low), I would treat myself to cookies afterwards. Now, those of you who know me know that I have a serious weakness for milk and cookies. Some people have alcohol, others cocaine. I have cookies and, for me, they are serious business. I have been known to polish off an entire bag of Oreos in a single sitting. I freakin' love the things, and so I made a deal with myself shortly after leaving home for college: I could eat all the cookies I wanted so long as I had a real dinner first. At first it was a challenge, as I would struggle to shovel fork fulls of spaghetti into my mouth one after another, all the while keeping my eye on the prize. Literally. I set the cookies on the countertop and stared, unblinkingly, at them while damned near choking myself with the spaghetti I had to get through in order to justify ripping into them.
So one day, a day like any other I should note, it occurred to me that I had a couple of tortillas in the fridge as well. In one of those cartoon moments when a light bulb suddenly beams to life over some dumbfounded fool's head, it suddenly occurred to me that I could probably eat the spaghetti faster if I could hold it in my hands. What better way to do so than wrapped up in a tortilla? Thus, genius was born. It worked! Suddenly, I could scarf down the equivalent of two plates of spaghetti (my usual fare) in almost half the time, toss the plate aside, and move on to the cookies. I was a rejuvenated man. I was still staying true to the original pact I had made with myself (dinner first, then cookies), but now I was actually enjoying it a bit because the tortilla gave the burrito a different (I daresay a better) flavor than just by itself.
I tell this story in the hopes that someday, when the spaghetti burrito becomes world-famous, you will remember that I invented it.
Now, I believe I left a half-opened bag of cookies on the counter.

Thanks, but no thanks

Recently, a friend invited me to attend a small party. It was to be outside, overlooking beautiful Monterey Bay, and would feature the usual assortment you'd expect to find at a late summer gathering: food, beer, nice people, etc.
My response?
"Thanks, but no thanks".
Or rather, that was the gist of it. What I said was "Ah geez, I'd love to but I'm busy tonight. I dropped a pencil behind the refrigerator and it's pretty important that I get it out right away", or something equally preposterous. Before he had a chance to inquire as to why that couldn't wait (which it could, of course, even if it were true), I thanked him for the offer and walked home.
You see, I don't really like parties. I don't drink, or particularly enjoy being around anyone who is. Plus, I generally get bored having the standard conversation with someone you've just met (what's your name? Where do you work? Do you live around here? Oh really, you're a lint biologist? How fascinating!).
I wouldn't say that I am anti-social (though I've been accused of it on more than one occasion), it's just that I am not a great fan of making the pretense of being interested, when in fact I have no reason to expect you to find me amusing either, at least not based on what I say. Plus, with my atrocious memory capacity, an hour from now I won't remember two-thirds of what you tell me anyways (even if you are a merry-go-round operator), so what's the point? The main attraction for me will undoubtedly be the hamburgers, so I might as well quietly park myself next to the grill with a bun in my hand, and wait to catch the next hot thing to come off of it.
So does this mean I don't like socializing then? Not at all. I just like to know that, if I am going to invest the appropriate (and in my case, strenuous) effort to actually remember your name, I have to have some confidence that we will want to talk to each other again in the near future. Thus, an ideal social occasion for me involves actually doing something, rather than simply standing around talking. Invite me to play soccer, go for a hike, or even attend a tupperware party and I'll arrive on time and ready to participate. At least then, the chances of us having fun are greatly increased, plus we'll have something to actually talk about, some shared experience to reference when next we meet. In my mind this is is how friendships begin, not while standing in a small cluster with a drink propped in your hand in a show of camaraderie, chatting about the last movie we saw. Boring.
So in light of all this, you might be thinking that I stood up my friend on account of my not wanting to having to talk to other people on the supposed basis of exploring behind the refrigerator. Not so. Earlier in the day I had taken him diving at two of the best dive spots in Monterey, as per his request, and had a blast. I imagine we'll be talking about that a lot longer than anything that might have happened at the party.

Growing Up

A strange thing has been happening to me lately: I've started thinking like an adult. In the last six months or so, I've slowly been shifting my focus towards more long-term goals, such as establishing a career, staying in one place for more than 8 months, opening an IRA, buying a house, etc. The thought of owning furniture doesn't stress me out anymore. I know that these are things which most people probably come to terms with in their early twenties, but I've made a pretty good go of living the somewhat nomadic lifestyle for a while now. The purpose of the more or less constant movement has been to explore as many places as possible in search of a place to call home. In fact, that was the original thought behind creating and updating this blog, to chronicle the progress made towards achieving that goal. While I have a tough time imagining that I'll ever stop wanting to explore wonderful new places and experiences, I'm feeling pretty confident that Monterey will be a great place to settle for a while. This time, I'll have Jenn to share it with, and that makes all the difference. She's a wonderful, supportive woman who delights in sharing her days with me as much as I do with her. It's been a pleasant challenge making life plans that allow both of us to persue our own individual goals, while still allowing us to grow together as well.
As for individual goals, I'm once again in the familiar position of having to find work in a "new" place. We're moving back up to Monterey this weekend, in search of a place to call home, furniture, and jobs. I feel pretty good about my opportunities, as several of my previous employers have offered me what little work there is to be had in the fall/winter season. I would like to continue teaching scuba and certifying students, but I honestly can't figure out how that's going to happen. Yet. For the time being, I aim to get myself enough work to keep busy and pay rent, while allowing Jenn the freedom to figure out what is available to her. Though she grew up in Carmel (just south of Monterey), she's never worked in the area, except as a teenager. Regardless, I am (as usual) optimistic about the future, and look forward to pursuing it with a big smile on my face.
Life is good.