My eyes are up here.

The hallway in my building is freezing. Not just chilly or slightly uncomfortable. It is stupidly frigid! I am thin and have no protective layer of fat, also known as "Man-blubber" or "mlubber". Herein lies my problem.

Every time I wander into the hallway for a bathroom break, refill my water bottle, or just to deal with my emotions, I develop a bit of a "nip problem". Then when I come back into my work bay, I'm very self-conscious. So of course, I have to walk around with my hands over my nipples and staring down anyone who challenges me... Like a silver-back gorilla.

The solution? Discreet and elegant.

Gastro-intestinal vengeance

This weekend, I hung out with a bunch of my new "younger" friends. We pre-gamed at my fantastic apartment and then ventured out to bars. As we stood in the throngs of people at Tiki Bob's, I made a comment about how I thought a lot of the girls in Kirkland were cute.

This one guy, who was already quite inebriated, looked surprised and then surveyed the ladies as if he were just noticing them. After a moment of drunken contemplation, he blurted:

"Yeah, I guess they're alright if you're-- Like, at your stage in life."

It was such a shockingly condescending evaluation that he delivered so deadpan and casually. I wanted to stab him with my tiny tiki drink stirrer.

But instead, I played it cool and offered to buy the next round of drinks. I got everyone in the group a Southern Comfort and lime... except for the Condescending Asshole. For him, I decided to order something a little special.

Me: What's the worst shot ever?
Bartender: The worst?
Me: Yes, I want a shot that you get somebody you hate.
Bartender: Get an Abortion.
Me: What is it?
Bartender: Irish Cream, Peach Schnapps, and grenadine. You'll gag on it.
Me: One of those, please.

Then later when Condescending Asshole puked in the bushes outside the bar (seriously happened), I innocently asked "Oh, is he not feeling well?"

In my younger and more vulnerable years...

I have a work notebook where I track all my projects and important items. I'm very proud of it because I keep it well organized and have neat handwriting. I can't wait for the day my child gleefully brings their first report card home from school and asks to hang it on the refrigerator, so I can gently tell them:

"No, that's where Daddy dispays his first Boeing work notebook."

then snatch the report card from their delicate, quivering hands and tear it up in front of them as punishment.

Even though I started at "The Company" in May, I didn't get "The Notebook" and make my first entry until June 7th. I was so eager to once again become a cog in a soulless corporate machine, that I used insane, over-the-top "industry speak" to record simple ideas.

For example, I needed to find out how my manager was going to assign me new tasks and projects.

Simple concept.

But this idea was logged into my notebook as "Touch base w/ Leo to establish procedures for assignments and path forward."

What?! That doesn't even make sense! Haha, oh June 6th Connor. You were so eager to impress. So young and naive. How times have changed! I look back at myself in those days and realize what a cold, bitter man I have become.

58%

This post title references the percentage of awesomeness that I am. A.k.a. my winning record in Microsoft Hearts. I want to get this number up to 66%. You want to talk about dedication? It took me about 2 months to get from 57% to 58%. What comes to mind when you think of the word "accomplishment"? Getting engaged? Slaving endless hours to get that promotion? Starting a homeless shelter?

Pathetic. I've played almost a thousand games of Hearts and won 526 of them. Suck on that, boners.

Psst! Hey kid, wanna buy some paint?

So I've begun the process of painting my new apartment! I selected an awesome color for my hallway and main room (it's Behr's Pyramid Gold, and I would link to it but Behr's website sucks). But of course, nothing is ever easy when it comes to me. I got all self-conscious when the stupid know-it-all guy at the Home Depot paint counter put me on the spot in front of a bunch of other customers:

Jerk: What kind of finish?
Me: Uhhh, I don't know.
Jerk: (disbelieveing snort) You don't know?!
Me: It's for indoors.
Jerk: Fine. Then you want eggshell.
Me: Whatever.
Jerk: How much?
Me: Oh. Uh...
Jerk: Sweet Christ I don't have all day! HOW MANY FUCKING GALLONS?!!
Me: FOUR. Uhh, yeah. I need four.

So now I have four gallons of Pyramid Gold paint, and I barely need one and a half gallons. Wtf am I going to do with all this excess paint? Sell it out of my trenchcoat on a street corner?!

New Template... FOR MY LIFE

Happy Saturday, bitches! I've started this day with a new blog template! I like it for the moment, but we'll see how it fares in the long run. And I'm also getting my new apartment today! So it's a gorgeous day full of new beginnings.

You know what strikes me as weird? The people in Seattle are super laid back, but they also guzzle maybe 4 cups of coffee per day. Seriously, how do they manage that? I've only been here a few weeks and my daily coffee consumption has jumped from one cup per day to two. Late in the afternoon after I've chugged my second giant cup, I start getting a little twitchy and I have to realllly watch the engineering decisions I'm making when my boss is around:

Me: I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! Brackets look good! Fly them!
Boss: (Raises eyebrow)
Me: Or... Ummm, maybe we should test them first.
Boss: (Nods approvingly)
Me: (menacingly under breath) But they better fucking pass that test or else I'm coming to find you. Hear me?

Twilight

Btw, here are some pictures from Whidbey Island that my whole family compares to Twilight. Which made me wonder why so many my uncles were even reading Twilight in the first place.

The Short Bus

I'm really happy with my team that I'm working with. The Lead Engineer is awesome, and he's obviously a smart guy and a great manager. There's the crazy old dude who's worked at Boeing for 25, the stereotypical, soft-spoken "suburban dad", the smart woman with a bit of an edge to her...

There's also Nathan. Nathan is an electrical engineer. He has a little weasel face and a goatee. He's very nice and intelligent, but Nathan feels like I'm the new puppy on the team, so it's his job to train me. Of course, he's not counting the fact that I have a Masters or worked in the aerospace industry for 2 years, so he's treating me like a mental infant. Today he taught me how to (and I'm serious here)...

...Scan a document properly with your eyes.

Nathan: So you have this table here with all the values.

Me: Yup.

Nathan: And we're only interested in the values in this column that have a "Yes" in them.

Me: Sure.

Nathan: So I don't just read every single line. I just hit the "page down" button and let my eyes kind of glaze over this column for when it changes.

Me: Riiiiight... I know how to sc-

Nathan: Like this! I'm not really reading each line, but I'm just looking for differences in this column. See what I'm doing? SEE?!! (presses page down)

Inner voice: Are you fucking serious?

All hail foursquare!

Question: do I use social networking programs to share information about the life I have, or do I only have a life because social networking programs define it?

Yes, this blog has hidden depths that you are only now becoming aware of. But first, let me clarify that it was a rhetorical question, dummy. If you answered in a comment, go stand in a corner. If you answered out loud, go punish yourself by looking in a mirror and saying "This is why nobody loves you".

Just kidding. I love you...  maybe.

There's a reason I was thinking about that question. I use a program called "foursquare" on my iPhone. It's a little application that uses my phone's GPS to figure out where I am, then uses Google to find all the various social venues, restaurants, bars, etc. in the nearby area. You can "check into" a specific location and write tips, see who else is checked in, or (if you check in frequently enough) become the "mayor" of that location.

You can also get little perks. For example, if you check into a certain Starbucks enough to become the mayor on foursquare, you can show that to the barista and get a discount on your drink orders. And you can earn various badges for accomplishing certain tasks. Earning all the badges in foursquare become one of my most precious life goals. At work, I had to fill out a form stating where I see myself in five years. I said that I see myself standing in my 750 square-foot "Room of Achievement", staring proudly at the trophy case where I display my plaque that I had commissioned the day I earned all my foursquare badges.

One of the badges is "I'm On A Boat" which you earn if you check in to a location tagged "boat". Yesterday, I took the ferry over to Whidbey Island. Why? Not because I had a burning desire to see Whidbey Island. It was because I wanted to get the foursquare badge!! But I didn't check into the right place, so I didn't get the flipping badge! So now (because I hate the concept of cheating) I have to drive back down to Mukilteo ferry tomorrow, and check into the ferry terminal just to get this badge.

Stupid foursquare... Making me go outside to new places and crap.

No Dream Finer Than a Dreamliner

Today was a fairly fantastic day at work. I got to walk around in the Boeing factory (the largest building in the world) and inspect all their airplanes production lines up close. The planes are built in an assembly line, with them all lined up nose to tail.

Anyways, Boeing is coming out with this hyper-advanced passenger plane called the 787 Dreamliner. It's quite badass, and not even available for purchase yet. But since I'm kind of a big deal here, I got to walk inside and crawl around the engineering bay of one while it was being built! It was an engineer's hot steamy dream. I even got to peek my head inside the cabin and look out the flight window while making cool airplane sounds. The technicians thought I was a mentally handicapped person on a tour. One told me that this was a special plane that I might get to fly on one day. I gave him a big smile and declared that I was a big boy and allowed to ride on planes all by myself!

I bet you're wondering about some of the more intricate design aspects of the 787 Dreamliner. I'm not supposed to do this, but I got my hands on some very classified engineering documents that I'll upload just for you:

I wish I could explain this schematic to you in more detail, but it really is quite technical and I'm afraid (quite frankly) that it's over your head. Get an engineering degree and then we'll talk.

Trend-setter

You know how I'm super handsome and typically have excellent taste in clothing? You know how it seems like my fashion sense is always one step ahead of yours (*cough* Shoa *cough*)? You might assume that I just read GQ and rip off their ideas, but I'm all original you smug jerk.

Guess what you're wearing right now? Sweat pants and a torn t-shirt. I bet it's not even your t-shirt. It's probably your boyfriend's disgusting gym shirt that he threw in the hamper, but you desperately dug it out and wore it because you haven't done laundry in 3 weeks.

You know what I'm wearing? Mother. Fucking. Cuff links.

That's right. I'll give you a moment to absorb that tasty fashion nugget. Dress shirt from the Donald Trump collection with silver cufflinks. I won't even bother describing the rest of my outfit, because your tears might stain your boyfriends rank t-shirt.

I'm perched in a little indie coffee shop in Mukilteo, gazing down over a clouded Puget Sound, sipping my Americano from an oversized red mug, and rocking a professional outfit that makes all the little high shcool ladies stare (can they even spell "statutory"?). Here's a picture that I took while eye-flirting with your mom from across the café:

In fact, I've just been inspired with an amazing new idea for a coffee shop here in Seattle: "The Fashionista Barista"! All my baristas will wear insane couture while I sit in a raised booth with a monocle and judge my customers.