Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Independence. You’ve been campaigning for it since you were waist-high. At age 5, you were stomping your foot saying "I can tie my own shoe!" At age 15, you were stomping your foot saying "I don’t see why I can’t stay out until 11:00 like everyone else!" And at age 25, you are stomping your foot wondering why you can’t afford to go out like everyone else. Part of growing up is gaining independence. Part of growing up is also learning how to manage money. To have freedom you need financial freedom. Although for many 20somethings, instead of feeling free, they feel financially crippled! Your 20s are supposed to be the time when you leave the nest, spread your wings and fly solo. And while every 20something dreams of soaring on their own, these days many are finding it difficult to take flight. Before even entering into the "real world," the typical college grad is already thousands of dollars in debt!

I recently took a Charles Schwab Financial Fitness Quiz to see how I fared against my 20something peers. I scored a 97, failing on one question for not having a will. While I’ve always been good with money, I haven’t always been debt-free. I was ecstatic to be handed my first "real world" paycheck in my early 20s, but the excitement was short lived when I quickly discovered how thinly I had to stretch it to cover all my living expenses and student loans.

Today I could sit here and tell you my simple philosophy on money. To save and invest more than you spend. To only spend money you have today, not money you expect to have tomorrow. And if you want more, to work harder. I could brag about how I max out my 401k, how I pay my credit card off in full every month, and how I refused to buy a new car until I was able to pay for it upfront in cash.

Or I could be humble and tell you about the time I decided to start my own business and lived on Ramen Noodles because I couldn’t afford to give myself a paycheck for the first 2 years of running my own start-up company! I could talk about the time I cut DirecTV, took the bus, skipped vacations and even skipped dating because I didn’t have money to buy a girl flowers let alone a decent meal. And then there was the Winter of 2009 when I found myself homeless for 2 weeks and how I’m now a huge advocate for having at least 6 months of living expenses saved because you never know what life will throw at you.

I could tell you all those things and lecture you like a child, but instead I rather empower you. Empower you with the one story about the one person that has empowered me to push forward no matter what life threw at me. She's 90. And she’s the strongest woman I know. She’s my Grandmother.

She grew up during the Great Depression and came from an extremely poor family. At age 20 she met a wealthy, well known architect. He impressed her with his Ivy League background, his smooth talking ways and promises of a house with a white picket fence and horses. They married, had 2 kids and he provided the lifestyle she once only dreamed of. Then one day he decided he would have a drink. And he never stopped. He went out, did as he pleased, and who he pleased. He controlled the money and her, but couldn’t control his drinking. The alcohol took over and he lost his job because of it. Out of work he couldn’t pay the bills. So to buy liquor he secretly tapped into his children’s college funds and spent every last cent. On the verge of losing their home and everything they owned, my Grandma checked him into rehab. When he completed rehab and was released, he drove himself to the nearest bar for a drink. It was around that time my Grandma decided to file for divorce, something that was unheard of in that day! With 2 children to support, no money, no home, no job skills and only a G.E.D. to her name...my Grandma was forced to depend on herself. And she’s done so for the last 60 years. She is the original Miss Independent.

With money comes power. Without it comes fear. That is why my parents made sure my sisters and I all went to college so we could make our own money, be in control of our own destiny and not have to count on anyone to support us. And YOU should not count on anyone to support YOU. Because maybe you have a trust fund or maybe you have a wealthy spouse, but you never know when either one might run out.

When you were a child independence wasn’t given, it was earned. The same is true today. If you want independence and freedom you have to earn it. And it starts with being financially responsible for your own life.


Disclaimer: This post is part of the 20SB Blog Carnival: Friends & Money, sponsored by Charles Schwab. Prizes may be awarded to selected posts. The information and opinions expressed in this post do not reflect the views or opinions of Charles Schwab. Details on the event, eligibility, and a complete list of participating bloggers can be found here.

Can’t Live Without

Over at 20SB.net (20 Something Bloggers) a question has been proposed. What’s essential to your life? What can’t you live without, even when money is tight? What’s most important to you?

Being the tech whore that I am, I’m sure you are thinking I’m going to say I can’t live without the Internet or some coveted gadget like my laptop, iPod, TIVO, or cell phone. While all those things are pretty important to me and I would definitely miss them if they were stripped away, I can honestly say that I could survive without them...I think. It would be difficult and I would surely tremble and weep, but I think I could detox eventually. So what can’t I physically live without? Well scratch off the obvious which is air, water, food and sex. Now this is what's left...

Writing
Anne Morrow Lindbergh once said, "I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living." This describes how I feel perfectly! Writing to me is so much more than the physical pleasure of a pen between my fingers and paper beneath my palm. It's so much more than fingertips clickity-clacking on a keyboard. Writing to me is essential to living, or at least to my life. It's a childhood love of mine which has given me the creative outlet in which I so desperately craved. And through it, the ability to express the things in my everyday life that are often too difficult for me to verbalize. That alone is a gift in itself! Nevermind if you posses real writing talent or not.

Music
There's no doubt about it, I'm a music junkie! And I enjoy a very wide genre - anything from Marilyn Manson, to Frank Sinatra, to Jay-Z, to Pink Floyd, to John Mayer, to the Black Eyed Peas. Should I keep going on? I just like to mix it up. You'll rarely find me at my desk without my iPod on. It's glued to my head during workouts, while walking the pup, and cranked in my car while driving. To me, the invention of the mp3 is better than sliced bread! Music has the ability to change my mood and clear my mind. It can pump me for an MMA fight or calm me down after a stressful day at work. It can make you smile, make you cry, make you sing, make you dance, and of course make you reminisce. Is there anything music can't do? Music isn't just the soundtrack TO life, it's the soundtrack OF life.

My English Bulldog Diesel (AKA, my BFF)
What can I say about this 45lb chunk of meat that I haven't already said before? I love him. Really. Truly. Deeply. Love. Him. I do things for and with my dog for one simple reason - it makes me happy to see him happy. Really, that’s love in its purest form, completely unconditional. It's easy to see why dog is man’s best friend. He is loyal. He will never betray me. And his love is unconditional as well. It’s the perfect relationship! Call me crazy, but I honestly can't put into words how much this animal means to me. I think I love him far more than any human in my life. Is that bad? A woman can make me want to be a better man. But for Diesel, I want to be the man he thinks I already am.

Those are the top 3 things I can't live without. Well those and T.P. (toilet paper)

What can't you live without?


***NOTE***
Legal Jargon: This post is a part of 20SB’s Blog Carnival: Can’t Live Without, and Alice.com is awarding prizes to lucky bloggers and readers!

Climate Change Is NOT Caused By Humans?

A wise man once said...

"The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You do not blame them on your mother, the ecology, or the president. You realize that you control your own destiny."

In life whenever there is a problem, people are quick to point fingers and place blame.

He did it! She did it! Now look what you’ve done! They should be held responsible! This isn't MY fault!

While most will deny the accusations and will try their darndest to pass the blame on anyone other than themselves, a few brave souls will actually stand up and take responsibility for their actions, for their wrong doings. Even fewer will stand and volunteer to cleanup a mess they feel they didn't help create. Although, instead of playing the blame game and debating who should be held accountable, we should all be working together on our solution game and pitching in to cleanup.

Truth be told, there is no bigger oopsie (AKA, fuck-up) in this world than global warming problem we now have on our hands. We are literally murdering the very planet we live on! Contaminating and destroying the air we breath, the water we drink. In the words of my late Grandmother, "this world is going to hell in a hand basket." With all the ways we have to help combat global warming, somehow people are STILL arguing over what caused global warming in the first place! Does it really matter who is to blame?

The vast majority of us believe global warming is a direct result of human activity, but there are a few people out there that say that just isn’t so. While no one is 100% sure exactly what caused global warming to start, I think we can all agree that humans have only added to the problem over the past few decades and sped the process along. The fact is that climate change may result from both natural and human causes. So now what? Well how about we stop debating who or what is or isn’t responsible and start working on ending it...or more realistically, slowing it down. Or how about I just end this post with a warm, fuzzy tale instead of all this nerdy, scientific talk?

Jude Ndambuki teaches high school chemistry, but when he's not in class, you might find him dumpster diving for discarded computers. For the past eight years, the Kenya native has been refurbishing computers otherwise headed for landfills, then sending them to grateful students back home. In the Help Kenya Project, Nddambuki gives the computers away for free, but there is one small catch. For students to receive a computer, they first must plant a tree. While tree planting helps offsets carbon emissions, recycling electronic equipment helps the environment by reducing pollution from the metals inside the devices.

The kids are given new life. The computers are getting new life. And trees being planted bring new life. It's all connected. And as humans, so are we. Climate change is a human issue. And nothing is more human than sharing your love and giving all you can to help change the lives of others and the world we live in.

Humans "may" have not caused climate change, but we can help change it.

***NOTE***
The post you read above is my contribution to Blog Action Day '09. It's an annual event (held every October 15th) that unites the world's bloggers in posting about the same issue on the same day on their own blogs with the aim of sparking discussion around an issue of global importance. It is the largest-ever social change event on the web with over 13,000 registered blogs in 155 countries. One day. One issue. Thousands of voices. Learn more at www.blogactionday.org

You can also see this post featured on BrazenCareerist.com

20SB Featured Blogger...Now With More Awesome!

I’m not sure what the proper etiquette is in the virtual world, but I’m going to treat this acceptance speech/thank you post as if it was the real world and hope that Kanye West doesn’t appear out of nowhere and snatch this keyboard from my hands! I don’t know if you heard the recent news or not, but I’m kind of a big deal. Or at least I’m a kind of a big deal for roughly 30 days. After that, I go back to being a virtual nobody. Just another wannabe writer lost among the millions of other wannabe writers living their dream through a Blogspot address. But for now, I’m going to enjoy my 15 minutes of fame, or rather 30 days. So without further ado, let me share with you the big news...

I’m 20SB Featured Blogger for September 2009!

And if that’s not enough, I now come with more awesome!

Hold your applause and try to control your gasps and screams. Wait, what am I saying? Join me in unleashing the excitement! Let out those cheers! In fact, I’m doing it Ellen-style with the Ga-Ga-Ga-Ga cheer right back at you. Because without you, the 20SB community, I wouldn’t have won this little virtual honor. And for that, I sincerely thank you. I’m grateful for the recognition, the electronic love.

If you don’t know what 20SB.net (20 Something Bloggers) is, it’s basically an online community - a place for all twenty-something bloggers to discover other blogs/bloggers and get discovered themselves. The 20SB Featured Bloggers are nominated and voted upon each month by their peers. 20SB Featured Bloggers represent members who not only write great blogs, but have made their mark on 20SB's community as well. Now I may have made my mark on 20SB, but not always in a good way. If you remember the shaved legs debate from awhile back, you know what I'm talking about. So I'm well aware I’m not loved by all. I am often too brutally honest for some people’s tastes and at times not everyone gets my sense of humor. But that’s ok. We can’t please everyone in life. One thing I have learned through my 20s is that it’s better to be who you are and run the risk of some people not liking you, rather than be someone you aren’t and be guaranteed not to like yourself.

20SB has quadrupled in size since I joined just over a year ago. Back then, we had roughly 2,000 members. Today, there are over 8,000 members! Of course the vast majority are women. 20SB women greatly outweigh 20SB men at a 7:1 ratio. So you can imagine my surprise when I pulled off a Featured Blogger win for the boys! And that’s not an easy task considering the fact that the majority of 20SB blogs cater to women who enjoy writing/reading about this Fall’s fashion picks, feminism and an insatiable love for cupcakes (that one I still can’t figure out). So for a boy who often blogs about tech gadgets and his puppy (who had this smartass comment to say), I scratch my head and wonder why I was selected? And then I remember the period post. Yes, I blogged about periods. That probably won them over, huh?

Again, I just wanted to say thanks for all of those that voted for me. For those that didn’t, you’ll learn to love me. I grow on people like mold! And last but not least, can I just say fuck you Kanye. It’s like you stepped on a kitten and punched a retarded kid in the face all-in-one swoop! I’m happy you didn’t take a single VMA home Sunday night. And just for the record, you’ll never take home a 20SB Featured Blogger win either! So suck on that, you stupid dick.

Thank God for Beyonce. The woman truly saved the day! A total class act that graciously gave up her time in the spotlight to let young, Taylor Swift reclaim her 15 minutes of fame that Kanye West so ignorantly stole away. Beyonce is not only beautiful on the outside, we now see she’s beautiful on the inside as well. So hold on tight to her Jay-Z because I think I speak for all men when I say...if you let her slip away, I can guarantee someone will sweep her up faster than you can say H to the Izzo. Your bizzo will be gone! And Kanye, please go rewire your mouth shut. I liked you better through the wire.

• Join 20SB.net
• Official 20SB Blog
• My 20SB Profile
• Follow Me on Twitter

Want To Meet, IRL?

Have a favorite blog you read? Have a favorite blogger you feel like you can relate to? Ever want to get to know the blogger behind the blog, not just virtually thru e-mails or blog comments, but in real life? If so, then you may be interested in the 20SB Ultimate Meetup! It’s coming to Chicago this summer and if you’re a member of the 20SB network, you’re welcome to come out for a drink.

20SB is a place for all twenty something bloggers to get discovered or find other bloggers they relate to. We're all approaching, in the middle, or just past our quarter life crisis and we've got a lot to say about it! The point of this group is not so much to get discovered as it is to discover other bloggers. It's a community, not a blog listing service. And just shy of 5,000 members, the group has grown tremendously since I signed up some time ago.

Here are all the links to everything 20Something Bloggerish:

• 20SB Network
• 20SB Blog
• 20SB Meetup
• 20SB Twitter
• My 20SB Profile Page

As you're probably aware, I put the "awe" into awesome. So I know you are just dying to meet and hangout with me! Right? Rrright? Nod your head yes, make a boy feel good...even if it's a lie. Now before you get all excited and sign up, let me answer some of your most FAQ.

Q. Will you fix my computer?
A. No! I am a Writer Wannabe and Tech Geek Extraordinaire, but on that weekend I will not be Mr. Fix-It. I am almost always willing to lend a hand to someone in need, but this is a social gathering and I am not being your free geek boy right now. Sorry.

Q. Can I stalk you before, during, or after the meetup?
A. No, no and NO! I attract enough crazy chicks as it is. I'm like a crazy chick magnet for some reason. So the fact that I'm even considering going to this event is a big step for me because to be honest, there are so many crazy chicks out there that it's come to the point that I'm almost scared of the female species all together! FYI, I will have my "cradar" (crazy radar) up and on full alert.

Q. I’m a 25-year-old smoking hot nympho chick. Will you have a threesome with me and my hot bi-sexual girlfriend back at our hotel?
A. YES! You had me at "25-year-old smoking hot nympho chick".

Now if you have any other questions or if you're going, drop me a line and let me know. We're hoping for a turnout of at least 100 people, of course the more the better. And Olga, if you're out there reading this, you are cordially invited to join in as well. I know you hate me and want to kick me repeatedly in the balls with your pointed witch shoes, but perhaps you'll get over that one day. Hell, I may even buy you a drink and let bygones be bygones. If you come, it will be your proof that I'm not a conglomeration of fifteen girls ghostwriting their fantasies, but rather a writer/blogger of one. So come see for yourself. Like Pinocchio, I too am a real live boy. I’ll save you of the wood jokes.

A Letter To My Future Girlfriend

This is meant to be a love letter, but I’m thinking that if you ever read this, it may lead to you replying with a breakup letter. It does feel really weird writing to you, especially considering you do not yet exist. Or rather you exist, I am just unaware of your existence. The future tells me that will change. That we will meet. And in time, we will fall in love. Or so that is what I am supposed to believe will happen. I am hopeful that will take place. That I will find you and we will have this little fairytale romance, the kind that you read of in old leather-bound books and see on the big Hollywood screen. The kind of love the world is envious of and wishes they have what we share. The kind of love that your parents, grandparents and older relatives tell you about. The kind of love that you roll your eyes at as if to say those times just no longer apply to current day living. It’s 2009, not 1950. Needless to say, times have changed, dramatically! Chivalry is just about dead. Young people don’t court one another anymore. They don’t write love letters. They don’t perform small gestures of kindness. They just don’t pine after one another. They don’t allow nature to take its course and progress a relationship naturally, effortlessly. Instead we have drunken one-night stands. Start a new relationship before a previous relationship ends. Try to find function in dysfunctional toxic relationships. And sometimes we even shack up together or throw a kid into the mix thinking it will further a stagnate relationship or salvage a broken one. The worst of all, marry and divorce in less than 5 years. Now that really fucks things up! It should be quite clear. Living together, having a baby, or buying a diamond ring isn’t the quick and easy solution to your problems. Those are surfaces patches, mere makeup that covers the wounds left blistered and bubbling below the surface. We make poor choices along the way thinking somehow we will magically learn from our mistakes, but more often than not, we just seem to repeat our past. All of us, to some extent, fall into these same patterns. While we may toss aside a heart as if it was yesterday’s trash, we often look back, but we rarely turn back.

I’m not really sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. You see, at one point in my life I was a hopeless romantic. I understood love, had it, and really found the whole idea of being in a relationship quite easy. I never grasped how my friends could have so many love issues! All the drama, it seemed so exhausting and so not worth it. I felt they made things more complicated than need be. That if they would just learn to relax, stop over analyzing and go with the flow, that simple love would come their way too. Love would sail into their life like a gentle wave blowing in to meet the shore. Of course nobody ever tells you that eventually the winds pick up and that once gentle wave crashes into a pile of jagged rocks leaving you bleeding for weeks, months, sometimes years on end! Sure, they may try to warn you of that. But until you experience that pain firsthand, no amount of fair warning will prepare you to weather an unforecasted storm of that caliber. That is a journey you have to sail alone. So we take time out to lick our wounds before boarding the ship once more. Eventually, we are off to sea again in search of new fish. Any captain will tell you that rough patches are inevitable, and so too is the case in love.

Maybe it’s just me, but everything seems so rushed and prematurely forced. We try taking the next big step and often leap into things before we have completed the baby steps that are needed to stabilize the very ground we walk upon. It’s like we are treading thru quicksand and sinking faster by the minute. We are in a race, but to where I do not know. There’s no solid foundation to this "relationship". We jump into bed with someone before we even form a friendship with them. We want to run before we learn to fully walk. Our footing is unstable and with every shaky unsure forward step we take, we seem to tumble backward and fall an even greater distance behind. And instead of the relationship progressing, it seems to digress, or just falls completely apart. We lay there face first in the dirt wallowing in this vicious cycle of springing from one relationship to the next as if it was a game of hopscotch. I seem to lose more than I win and with each defeat, I find it harder to pick myself back up. I’ve already lost the spring in my step and I’m starting to lose my hop as well. Sometimes I wonder if all the energy put into this love crap is worth it. The cynical side of me says nothing lasts forever. So why bother to continue playing? Cut your losses now before you become too attached or even addicted to the game. Save yourself the heartache that is sure to follow. Be smart. Play it safe. Stay guarded.

I’m not a commitment phob, but can we slow this down just a tad? Let me wrap my head around exactly why you chose me. Part of me secretly does not feel worthy of this honor. I feel nervous and pressured when you want to "have the talk". Why I may not always understand a woman’s urgent need to hold the official girlfriend title, I am more than happy to give it to her, when it feels right. I can ask you to "go with me" on the back of a bubble gum wrapper 6th grade-style, or if you like, you can just read the signs. Don’t worry, they will be loud and clear. I will show zero interest in seeing other people. I won’t shut up about you to my family, friends, and co-workers. And the most obvious sign, I will casually introduce you as my girlfriend when bumping into an acquaintance on the street. I won’t even realize I’ve done it. I will just blurt it out and think nothing of it. That is when you know you have me. Well that and the swoony love sick look on my face the moment you enter a room.

Although my eyes may sometime linger, I never will stray. So rest soundly at night knowing that just like a good dog, I too will be loyal. You can count on me to be there. I can weather the storm. And I will go above and beyond my call of duty to make you aware of how much you mean to me with tokens of my love and affection along the way. Even after the initial/beginning stage of our relationship passes, I will do my best to keep it fresh, exciting, and more alive than ever. I do this not just for you, but for me as well, for us. I will work hard so that it never loses that warm, fuzzy feeling you’ve grown accustom to. The butterflies that flutter in your stomach and that tingle that shoots thru your body with just a touch of your lips, I will make sure those sensations linger on. I’m not sure if I can defy the laws of nature and rekindle all the feelings that a budding summer romance possesses, but I will do my utmost. I am willing to try. And with today’s standard of easily disposable relationships being the norm, my extraordinary effort should speak volumes.

I honestly love romance and I enjoy chivalry. A woman takes care of me, so why can’t I take care of her? I don’t see the harm in that. So let me spoil you some. It makes me happy to see your face light up, especially knowing I’m the one who placed that smile upon your pretty little face. Small surprises not just on your birthday or calendar marked holidays, but I’ll celebrate you on some idle Tuesday afternoon. Because I believe that one of the best parts of having a someone is letting them know they aren’t just anyone. They are the one. And why can’t I make any day of the week special? So please accept the yellow gerber daisy I lay on your bedroom pillow early Sunday morning before you wake. Please accept the note attached and feel me in those words. And don’t get frightened when I say I’m making you breakfast in bed. We both know I can’t cook, but for you I’ll really try. Please accept the smiley heart I draw on the foggy bathroom mirror when you are in a rush for work on a hectic Monday morning. And when Friday night rolls around and you tell me you feel like having Italian for dinner, don’t question why I want you to pack a weekend bag. Don’t question the International plane tickets for two. And don’t question that I love you.

All I ask is that you recognize these gestures and not take them or me for granted, as I promise to never take you for granted. I do my best not to show it, but if you get to know me well enough, it will soon become apparent that beneath a tough guy exterior I tend to be a little more sensitive than most men. I’m not sure if that is something I should apologize for, but I think it’s something you need to be made aware of. As a result of my soft interior, I find myself getting hurt more easily than perhaps I should allow myself to succumb to. Although when you open your heart and your life to someone, you also open yourself up to complete vulnerability. It comes with the territory, but I think I can handle it. I know at first I may come off as secretive or guarded, but please don’t take it personally. It’s just who I am and in time I will come around. I have good reason not to trust women and question their shady ways. I’ve been led on, lied to, deceived and belittled just to name a few. Although it is not fair and I do not wish to make you "pay" for the mistakes previous women before you have made with me, you must understand that these are things that have left scars on my heart and questions on my mind. So while I may keep you at a distance until a certain level of trust is formed, I warmly invite you to discover every aspect of me and my world. I wish for the same opportunity to present itself with you and I eagerly anticipate seeing all the beauty that surrounds you as well. I pray that you will be patient with me and trust in me as I wish nothing more than to trust again, this time in you.

My confidence will grow when you’re near me and your presence in my life alone will be enough to make me want to be a better man. The man I once was and the man I know I can once again become. I want to be the one that makes you happy and causes your heart to smile. That would be your greatest gift to me. Let’s celebrate together on some idle Tuesday, to the beginning of a new relationship, complete with swoony love sick faces.

PS (Will you go with me?)

***UPDATE***
See this post featured as a 20SB February Blog Carnival Winner.
http://20sb.blogspot.com/2009/03/february-blog-carnival.html

A Series Of Firsts - The First Kiss

Ahh, yes, the first kiss. The instant indicator of whether or not a new relationship stands a fighting chance. It’s the tell-all meter as to whether or not there is chemistry between the two of you. It’s that little spark. You anxiously wait for it. You pray for it to be present. Without it, it’s game over. It’s a done deal and you need to move on. You gotta love the mystery of an upcoming first kiss! The anticipation alone can often drive me insane with unbridled desire! Inhibitions? I try to keep them in check, but in the past, they have been known to fly out the window. Sometimes a first kiss lives up to your expectations and sometimes it’s even better than you expected! Perhaps you don’t see rockets and fireworks going off like Bobby Brady, but a good first kiss will leave you feeling a bit woozy. You heart pounds harder. Your palms may start to perspire. You will feel a small flutter in your stomach...and if you’re lucky, a tickle in your pants as well. The best kisses leave you speechless after, and breathless during. And then there are fist kisses that leave you with an incredibly creeped out feeling like you just madeout with your own sister! Those are NOT good first kisses. That relationship is doomed before it has even begun. You can be friends with that girl, but do not date her. Trust me. It will not last. And even if you force yourself to keep kissing her with wishful thoughts that the inbreeding sensation will somehow magically disperse, it won’t happen. That icky feeling will forever remain. God is cruel like that. Learn to spot it, understand it and accept it. Some people just aren’t meant to be more than friends.

Everyone has been there before. That aching question: "Can we be more than friends?" When you are in limbo trying to decide if you should turn a friendship into something more meaningful, a first kiss will do the trick. It will help answer that question and relieve that uncertainty. If nothing else, it is a clear sign of your intentions and where you want the relationship to progress. For some, it’s the first step in the right direction. For others, it’s a giant leap into a state of awkwardness. Is that an elephant in the room or is that just your lackluster kiss lingering on her lips that has left you both dazed and confused? Good luck trying to sidestep thru your embarrassment by talking about the weather.

For guys it’s pretty simple. The moment we lay eyes on girl, we know right then and there if we are sexually attracted to them or not. But for women, sometimes a sexual attraction builds up over a period of time. I’ve known many girls who will date guys who they didn’t immediately find attractive, but as they continued to get to know them, they found that attraction growing. "It’s their personality that makes them sexy", they’ll confess. I guess that just goes to show you that men base an initial attraction on outward appearance, whereas women tend to dig a bit deeper and find that sexual attraction lurking within.

As much as I would like to, I never bought into the theory that men and women can be strictly platonic friends. I think it’s nearly impossible and don’t try to convince me otherwise. If you don’t agree with that statement, you are either dumb, blind, or just terribly naïve. At least one of you is attracted and wants more, or at least has at some point. There is no denying that fact. I can’t speak for women but every guy I know, including myself, has had at least one dirty thought about every last one of his female friends. It’s in our DNA. We are hardwired to be like that. I may not act upon it, but I sure as hell have thought about it. Now perhaps that’s my fault and I should find a new batch of female friends that are less hot. Regardless, I just have a hard time buying into the "we’re just friends" line. The only thing a guy hates hearing more than that "let’s just be friends" line, is a girl trying to convince him that she and Joe Blow are just friends. I find that line incredibly sketchy, but maybe that’s because I’m feeling rather jaded lately and my anger is justified, along with my pessimistic outlook. It is understandable and perhaps that is why I feel so hateful about it. Whatever the case may be, any girl will have a hard time selling the "we’re just friends" line to me right now because I’m just not buying it.

When asked about my first kiss, I drew a blank. I’ve had lots of first kisses, but what about my very first kiss, ever? For the life of me, I couldn’t recall it. Of course the jokes started and implications of me being a manwhore were brought into question as reason being why I am unable to recall my very first kiss. "You can’t remember your first kiss? No surprise there!", she teased. It can’t just be me. Surely others have forgotten their first kiss too? I have a good memory and I recall many firsts in my life, like losing my virginity. Although vivid in my mind, that is a memory I would surely like to forget. But my very first kiss ever, I really had to scratch my brain to come up with the answer. I took a trip down memory lane, all the way back to grade school. The asphalt playground - that is where my first kiss ever took place.

We were in the 2nd grade, or maybe it was the 3rd grade? That part is a little foggy to me, but the little girl’s blue eyes are crystal clear to me, like a cloudless summer day. I can still see them. So innocent and pure. And a total pervert! It was more like a series of kisses. One right after another. Again. And again. And again. The girl was relentless! These days, I probably would enjoy that type of endless pursuit and persistency from a girl. But back then, I was not only embarrassed by it, I was repulsed by it as well. It was like a game to her, try to catch me and kiss me. Everytime she succeed, she would shout the total number of kisses she had accumulated on me. "26! 26 kisses for David! I kissed him 26 times!" She would belly over in a fit of laughter. Those little high pitch screams and girly giggles. She took the utmost delight in turning my face ten shades of red. Obviously I must not have been a very fast runner because I don’t know what my problem was. How could a girl not only catch me, but kiss me that much! She never tired of the game. Even when we would line back up after recess to go back into the school, she would sneak in another! Of course my face resonated my disgust as I deliberately wiped off her wet kisses from my abused cheek. Why did this girl like me so much and why did it bring her so much pleasure when it brought me so much pain? I didn’t like girls then. They had cooties and I didn’t want them touching me, let alone kissing me on the lips or either cheek in serial fashion!

One day I had enough. No more kisses I told myself. I would no longer allow this behavior. I decided to stop running. I stopped dead in my tracks, right by the monkey bars. She nearly barreled into me. And when she saw the easy opening, she leaned in for kiss #5 that day. "Stop it!", I screamed at her. She seemed a bit stunned, although not willing to stop. She proceeded to kiss me anyway and I screamed out again - "I hate you!" Her eyes immediately began to well up, but before a single tear could roll down her round face infront of me, she turned around and ran away. Even at such a young age, I knew I had done something horribly wrong. I was only about 4 feet tall, but I felt smaller than a speck of dirt. How could I blurt out those words? It was beyond cruel. She merely liked me. She had committed no crime. The words "I hate you" should never be words anyone has to hear, especially from someone they like so much.

The next day at recess she didn’t try to kiss me. She didn’t chase me and she didn’t even talk to me. Now it was probably her who hated me! I don’t know where the bravery nor the maturity came from, but I sat down on a swing next to her and told her I was sorry. I told her I don’t really hate her. And then I asked the burning question..."But why do you always have to kiss me?" Her reply was nothing short of absolutely adorable. "Because you’re fun to kiss." It was so simple and so honest. I had nothing to say to that but a big dopey "oh".

***NOTE***
(This post has inspired me to try something new. So you’ll notice I’m starting a series of posts on my blog appropriately labeled "A Series Of Firsts". "The First Kiss" post was the first in that series. In the future, I will also be including my first date, the first time I had sex, my first love, and of course my first heartbreak. I apologize if my first kiss didn’t live up to the steamy story you were hoping it would be. That story would coincide with my best/favorite kiss, although that borderlines on porn and that’s just not something I’m going to get into today. Maybe I’ll save that tale for another time.)

Most Distinct Voice

Yours truly has been nominated and is now a finalist for "Most Distinct Voice" in the Twenty-Something Bloggers Awards! (20SB Forum, 20SB Blog) It's quite the virtual honor, especially considering that in the past I have been guilty of having a stupid mouth, something I'm ashamed of. But having a distinct voice is something I can feel proud of! I've always been told I possess a very unique writing style, so I suppose a distinct voice would just go hand-and-hand with that? I hate shameless plugs and self-promotion, but I'm afraid I have to do it. Why? Because I want to win! I'm a competitive freak and I'm asking for you to just indulge me for the moment. So if it's not too much trouble, show me a lil love by voting for me (my blog) for "Most Distinct Voice". I will be forever grateful and in debt to you.

You can cast your vote here...
http://www.surveygizmo.com/s/94298/bootleg-finalist

The poll closes on January 19, 2009 and winners will be announced shortly after!

Dear Santa (Part 3 of 3)

Yesterday at work, I stared at Winamp scrolling by in my taskbar for what seemed like 20 minutes. That’s 20 minutes of my life I wasted and will never get back.

Winamp [Stopped] *** 22. Track 22 - Winamp [Stopped] *** 22. Track 22

It repeated itself over and over again. No sound, only text. I sat there, just staring at it. Mesmerized by it. My eyes finally grew tired and dropped down a little, to where I began fixating on the Dell logo that is stamped just below my laptop screen. The slanted silver E. I don’t know if you would say I was in deep thought or just zoning out. I just know I’m beyond confused and for the life of me I can’t figure it out. No sign. No nothing. Or maybe I’m blind, oblivious or just didn’t want to see it...let alone believe it. I don’t get it. I. Just. Don’t. Get. It. I wish someone would explain it to me because I can’t make sense of it. And I hate myself for opening up to vulnerably a second time around. I think I need to take on a new mindset. Think little of people you encounter in life and you will never be left hurt or disappointed. It’s safe. And from the guy who is all for taking risks, I boldly declare - safe is good. If you are scratching your head and wondering what in the world I am talking about, don’t lose any sleep over it. I’m being vague for a reason, because I don’t want to get into it, but I needed to let a little out of me before it consumes my brain. Writing keeps me sane in an often insane world.

Here’s a little "did you know" fact. I hate Christmas. This time of year depresses me and I can’t wait for this holiday to come and go so this can end. I haven’t put up a tree. I haven’t hung any lights. I haven’t done any holiday decorating or sent out a single card. I haven't wished anyone happy holidays. And I haven’t even bought a single present, nor given any thought to what I would even give! And yes, I realize Christmas is just barely over a week away. Don’t remind me. I guess it’s safe to say that I just don’t care. I know that sounds horrible and cold…and well, whatever. I don’t mean to sound like a Grinch or a Scrooge, because it’s not really like that. It’s just not the same anymore. Christmas doesn’t hold any meaning for me. It’s nothing like it was when I was a kid. Of course we all have to grow up and I’m fine with that. It’s just that there isn’t an ounce of Christmas spirit in me. Not an ounce of joy. There just isn’t. For me, the Merry has somehow been separated from Christmas over the years. I don’t even try to be fake happy this time of year because it’s just too much effort and completely pointless in the end.

I know I’m not alone in feeling like this because other people have expressed similar feelings in the past. However, for many of them, their comforting words are..."Once you have kids, Christmas will be fun again." Well guess what? I don’t want any kids anytime soon! So any other suggestions? Is it too late for me to turn Jewish? That’s one way to beat celebrating Christmas.

And I know I wrote these warm, cuddly, feel-good posts titled Dear Santa (Part 1 of 3) and Dear Santa (Part 2 of 3). But keep in mind, those are wishlists. Things I WISH would come true. They are filled with fond memories of a Christmas past and wishes for a Christmas future. They are wishlists. Nothing more and nothing less. Speaking of which, naturally I feel obligated to finish up my wishlist series with the final installment, Dear Santa (Part 3 of 3), even though I don’t want to write it and I’m rambling on just to delay doing so. But a promise is a promise, and I promised. Therefore I’m keeping my promise and delivering. So here is my final submission for the 20SB December Blog Carnival.

My Wishlist Of Things I'd Sneak Under The Tree For Me, Age 13

• Nirvana’s "In Utero" album, it was the follow-up to "Nevermind". I probably requested it on cassette tape because I was stubborn into accepting the transition to CD.
• NBA regulation size all-weather leather basketball. Yes, I was specific even as a kid. This was the time when my passion for skateboarding would begin fading and I would find a new love - shooting hoops.
• Air Jordan shoes! Sadly, I would never own a pair. Although I recently thought about buying a retro pair purely to fulfill that childhood dream that never came true. (Much the same way I did with My Pet Monster.)
• The latest video game in the Mortal Kombat franchise. I played those games so much that I was one of the few that could actually pull off the complicated "Fatality" finishing moves. To this day, I still have the button combos memorized. And even though I would have trouble telling you what buttons to push, put the controller in my hands and my fingers automatically punch it out.
• A puppy. Every year it would be at the top of my wish list, but I would never get one and I had pretty much given up hope. Little did I know that age 13 would finally be the year I would get my first dog, but it wouldn’t happen until months after Christmas morning.

Now a promise to you, my readers. I promise my next post won't be lame and depressing. Also, it's highly unlikely it will be about Christmas. You can breathe a sigh of relief now.

Dear Santa (Part 2 of 3)

This is the follow-up post to 12/13/08 - Dear Santa (Part 1 of 3) and my second submission for 20SB December Blog Carnival. You will notice my Grandmother is part of each of the 5 senses. At age 89 and after a scary past month, I’m realizing (a realization I adamantly denied for quite awhile) that time may be shorter than I hope for and I should cherish whatever amount of time I have left with her. I know that’s cliché sounding, but whatever. I’m not feeling very poetic at the moment and I don’t know how else to word it.

My Wishlist Of 5 Items, One For Each Sense
(Well, more than one for each sense. I got carried away.)

Sight - Seeing my Grandmother’s trademark smile. White holiday lights shining thru a blanket of fresh fallen snow. The Nutcracker Ballet accompanied by a live performing orchestra...I know that sounds odd coming from me, but there is good reason why it brings me immense comfort, relaxation and happiness. Watching classic movies with Dad, like "A Christmas Story" and "Christmas Vacation", we share the same stupid humor. And naturally, presents under my parent’s Christmas tree. Peeking at them makes me feel like a kid again, even if they aren’t all (or any) for me.

Hearing - Ave Maria sang (in Latin) by the church choir. Don’t ask me why and I’m embarrassed to admit it, but that song can practically bring me to tears. It has to be one, if not the, most beautiful sounding songs ever sung. My Grandmother’s stories. I never tire of them and there are still many that I anxiously await. My Mom’s cat purring, reminds me of our family cat growing up who I miss dearly. My 4-year-old niece’s boisterous giggle, it’s contagious. I also like it when she tells me she loves me, completely out of the blue. How someone only 3 feet tall can melt my heart is pretty remarkable.

Touch - My Grandmother’s hands, they feel like paper. It’s rather ironic that she’s a gifted writer and words seem to fall from those very hands when a pen is slipped between her fingers. Throwing my niece into the air and catching her. A hug from Mom, nothing compares. Getting my finger pricked by the pine needles on the Christmas tree. The weight of my dog's chin resting upon my shoulder. Holding hands with a girl I’m falling in love with.

Taste - Red wine with Christmas Eve h'orderves that follow after midnight mass. My Grandmother’s homemade vegetable soup, it never fails to warm the soul. Mom sending me home with dinner leftovers to last a week. Licking my fingers after eating an iced sugar cookie Santa, tree or star.

Smell - The scent of a woman. The allure of their perfume mixed with the essence of everything feminine from shampoo, to body lotion, to even their deodorant. I don’t know what it is, but I love it! It makes me so weak to them. The smell of torn wrapping paper and Scotch tape, with an underlying hint of Dad brewing coffee on Christmas morning. The indescribable scent of the house I grew up in it. I don’t know how to describe it, other than not only does it feel like home, it smells like home too. My Grandmother’s perfume. Although I find it sickening sweet and overwhelming, it lets me know she’s near, that she’s still here, and that makes me so happy.

Dear Santa (Part 1 of 3)

As you may or may not be aware, for awhile now I’ve been a part of a blogging network called 20SB (Twenty Something Bloggers). I’ve watched 20SB grow from around 1,000 people when I initially signed up, to over 3,500 current members. Basically, it’s a group of people who can relate to one another because they share two common factors - they are a blogger and they are in their 20s. Now when you sign up, you need to be between 20-29, but the fact of life is that we all age, even in the blogosphere. So even those a bit older are still welcome to stay and hang around on 20SB, despite turning 29 again. Now if you fall into that 20-something age range, you’re a blogger, and you’re interested in hearing even more from my stupid face, you will surely run into me on the 20SB forums. (My stupid mug is even featured on the 20SB badge, see below.) Speaking of the 20SB forums, there is a monthly feature on there called "Blog Carnival". The Blog Carnival is a suggested post topic that you can blog on. If you choose to participate, the link to your post is then featured on 20SB, along with everyone else who participated in the Blog Carnival as well. In the past I’ve never participated (with the exception of 20SB Compliment Week), mostly due to the fact that my personal life often interferes with the amount of time I can devote to writing. However, this time around, I’m making the time for the December Blog Carnival. In fact, if you like this post, I’ll publish the other two parts to it later this week.

So here are the rules...

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December Blog Carnival
It is time for the December Blog Carnival and we want to hear from you!
So, choose your topic and submit your post for the Holiday Carnival by December 21.

You can choose any of the following three topics:

- A wishlist of things you want that are free
- A wishlist of 5 items, one for each sense (that's an item for sight, one for smell, etc)
- A wishlist of things you would sneak under the tree for yourself, age 13

To enter, write a post on the topic and email tipptalk@gmail.com the URL link to your post and the URL link to your 20sb page.

Carnival results will be posted at the end of December!

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With the current economy in the state that it’s in and practically all of my friends becoming newly unemployed, I think we could all benefit from putting together a wishlist of things we want that are completely free. So without further ado, here is my 20SB December Blog Carnival submission of a wishlist of things that don't cost a single cent!

My Wishlist Of Things I Want That Are Free

• I want a girl to write me a cute little heartfelt letter for a change, since it’s always the other way around.
• A hug from my Mom and my sister home for the holidays.
• A piece of art created by my 4-year-old niece, or homemade Christmas cookies molded by her chubby little kid hands.
• On Christmas Eve or even Christmas Day, have someone fall asleep on my chest infront of the fireplace. I would prefer a girl I like a lot, but I would also accept my snoring puppy. Although in a perfect world, I would have both.
• To just be happy.

Related post of interest...
12/21/05 All I Want For Christmas




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