X-treme Energy Saving

My parents have adopted a new, aggressive policy on saving electricity. No, it's not those compact fluorescent light bulbs or purchasing energy-efficient appliances. Those are far too sensible! Every time my parents leave a room, they turn off every single appliance inside of it.

...even if I am still in the room.

Allow me to paint you a mental picture, my beloved blog reader. I was sitting downstairs watching the Steelers game with my mother recently. The game was almost over, and it was pretty apparent that the Steelers were going to be handed yet another loss. So my mother got up, turned off the television and every light in the room, and waved goodnight over her shoulder as she walked out... leaving me alone in the pitch black and missing the last three minutes of the game.

You need another example?! Fine. Let's say I was in the kitchen one evening, typing on my laptop. My father walked into the room, grabbed himself a fresh beer (Milwaukee's Best Light, of course), and then turned out all the lights in the room as he leaves.

"Hey, I'm actually still in this room!" I called out.
"You don't want all that glare on your computer screen!" was the gruff reply.

So now it's gotten to the point where there is a bitter struggle in the household about who can keep the most lights at any one time. I'll walk from room to room, engaging in short activities and then leaving all the lights on, and my parents will follow in my footsteps five minutes later turning everything off. During phase two, I'm going to run the washer and dryer every second of the day (totally empty), and leave hot irons on in random hiding places. That will teach them!

HOW TO BE THE SMARTEST PERSON ON EARTH IN JUST THREE DAYS !

I was going through a couple drawers in my old room at my parents' home and I found a bunch of old photos from my high school prom, my 16th birthday, college, etc. Going through a different drawer, I found a scrapbook that somebody had given me, but I had only partially filled.

Oh, Fate! You flighty temptress! Obviously, this day was meant for scrapbooking. I had no choice but to oblige. And rooting deeper through drawers, I found the following gem that I wrote when I was but a wee lad:

HOW TO BE THE SMARTEST PERSON ON EARTH IN JUST THREE DAYS !

Read this first!

Hello. My name is Connor J. Dolan. So you want to be a super genius? Well, then I guess I'll have to make you one. In this book are three, very short chapters. One chapter is assigned for each day you are in training. I am a person who gets right down to business. For that reason, I would like you to turn to the first chapter. Wait! Before you do, I must tell you something. If you try to finish my program before three days, you will be as you were before. So now I urge you, READ ON!

Chapters.

1. Your First Lesson

2. You're Getting Smarter

3. Your Last Lesson

About the author

So apparently, I decided I was going to create my own self help book. Who knew I was so entrepeanurial in my younger and more vulnerable years? Please notice that the "About the author" section is left blank. I guess I wanted to remain mysterious. I only wrote Chapter 1, and failed to finish the rest of my course. I guess that's why I'm only one third of a genius. By the way, I love the aptly named chapter titles. Also, the fact that in my introduction I mention how I love to get right down to business. Then I tell you to start the first chapter, but immediately tell you to wait. I'll post my insightful instructions in the next connblog entry.

Dre: A female version of "Hitch"

Dre set me up on an "almost blind date" last night. I say it was "almost" a date, because Dre told each one of us that we're single and should meet. But she apparently decided that we were incapable of human interaction without adult supervision, so she invited herself and a friend along to dinner. I guess something about me screams "I require a chaperone with girls."

I should also mention that yesterday I was experiencing one of the top 5 hangovers of my life due to the insane Christmas party I had attended the night before. Despite my temporary mental handicap, I feel like I managed to be a decent conversationalist. Here are highlights of how Dre made us feel super comfortable:

Dre: You smell like booze.

Me: What? Seriously?

Dre (trying to fan air away): Did you even shower today?

(My date is looking at me with wary, judging eyes.)

Me: YES, of course I showered! And I'm wearing cologne!

Dre: I can smell whiskey oozing out of your pores.

Dre then spent the rest of the night awkwardly and absent-mindedly putting her arm around me in the middle of conversation. One time, she was speaking, went to drape her arm around my chair but managed to catch herself at the last second, and tried to pull away. She ended up strangely touching my face with her hand and then attempting to continue with the discussion as if that were totally normal.

When the check came, Dre and I agreed to split the bill. But Dre discovered a tear in the plastic checkbook the bill was delivered in. Of course, her first instinct was to jam both our credit cards into the gap just to see if they would fit. They did. And of course, my card ended up getting trapped inside. My "date" almost had to pay for the meal before Dre tore open the checkbook and recovered the card.

I'm so glad that Dre managed to find time in her schedule to tag along. Without her, things might have been super awkward!

Coffee shop awkwardness

I'm in a Greenberry's coffee shop right now as I write this. There is a man sitting right in front of me who is getting really wrapped up in the Christmas music that's playing over the speakers. I think there may be something wrong with him to be totally honest, but it doesn't look like he's mentally retarded. He's just seriously jamming out to the Mariah Carey tunes.

He's now half-singing "All I Want For Christmas Is You". And when I say half-singing, it's like he wants to belt out the song at the top of his lungs, but he's semi-aware that he's in a public setting. But he also appears to be physically unable to resist his urge to sing this song. So this internal struggle creates a situation where he's kind of very quietly singing, but with a strange sense of urgency in his voice. It's really weird.

I'm avoiding all eye contact with him. I wish there was another table available. He was violently tapping his toes earlier with beat of "The Little Drummer Boy" and he touched my table and made it rock. I almost moved.