Still remember me?

Wow, I went out for cigarettes a week ago and never came back. I feel as though I have betrayed my (four) readers. It's not surprising I guess, I typically start things -- relationships, in particular -- with much attention and high hopes. Then I lose interest.

I won't lie to you though. There's not a whole lot going on in my life right now. Work is fine. Drinking is fine. Blah, blah, blah.

Anyways, here are a few things:

*Was on a flight recently on one of those smaller planes. At one point in the flight the flight attendant asked the man sitting across the aisle from me to move seats to the front of the plane because, I think her exact words were "You're too fucking fat for me to negotiate the drink cart around your bulbous, bloated body." Too harsh? Anyway, he complained at the end of the flight, making a scene, and said he had never been treated that way on a flight before. Oh well, dude, have a salad.

*On that same trip, though not the same flight, a gay flight attendant blatantly flirted with me. It was, odd.

*This year is the first time in, oh shit, a long fucking time where I have actually dressed up for Halloween. I bought some Roman Gladiator costume that looks kind of like a Peter Pan costume. The short sword doesn't help things. But I'm not wearing tights, so I have that going for me. Also, I know from experience that the more alcohol you consume the less you give a shit about your costume. Sounds like a plan.

*Which reminds me: My mother was very protective of me growing up*, since I was the first-born and what not. This, I'm sure, led me to being afraid of everything -- muffins, haircuts, photographs and rust, just to name a few. When I was about 4-years-old and my brother was 2, in the early '80s, my mother very much got caught up in the hype of the razor-blade-in-the-apple urban legend that was sweeping the country. That's why she decided that one year, we would not be trick or treating, but "Even Better, the Great Pumpkin is coming!" So, my brother and I dressed up in our Superman costumes (that remarkably looked like pajamas) and emerged from our bedroom to find, in fact, the Great Pumpkin did indeed arrive with baskets full of candy, as well as a few toys. This was fine with me, as it meant I didn't have to fullfill the prerequisite for candy of tromping through the night going door to door. Plus I got toys. Score.

*I'm way late on this but I'm sure you heard about it. Travel & Leisure magazine determined that Washington, DC was the second ugliest city in the country -- behind Philadelphia. (I'd link to the article but I don't want to. Just trust me. It's true.) I know I have only lived here since April, and don't get me wrong I know this isn't South Beach, but I have noticed plenty of hot women around here. One thing I have noticed is that not a lot of women wear makeup. Which, I guess, can be a good thing. In a town where someone is often stuffing you full of bullshit, at least you know what you're getting. So often I have dated women for weeks before I finally saw them without makeup. Sorry, but sometimes it just isn't the same as advertised.

*On that same subject, does the ugliest city competition mean the most amount of ugly people or the fewest amount of good-looking people?

*Sometimes I think the best thing to do is just stop dating the women you're dating and start over from scratch. Thoughts?

*For years I have been threatening to quit smoking. My brother and his roommate set a date last January and followed through, and I was rather impressed. I also set a date of March 1 of this year, but then came the new job, the move and what not, so I decided to push it back. I didn't want to quit in summer because, well, I love smoking in the summer. And then I set the quit day as Dec. 1. That's only about a month away. Hmmm....we'll see.

*Did you know my dad only dates black women? It's true.

OK, I better run. I promise, I'll be right back.

Happy Halloween, fuckers!

*Yea, by the time my sister, who is eight years younger than I am, arrived at her senior year of high school the rules for her were, needless to say, a little more lax than they were in my high school years.