PBJ Heaven

PBJ Heaven

I must apologize. I have vastly underrated you, Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich. I have clearly been missing out the past few years. In my ongoing and inconsequential efforts to get swoll, I have increased my protein intake (soy, veggie patties, tofu, eggs, etc.). I also read somewhere that peanuts are also loaded with protein, so I decided to reincorporate PBJs into my daily diet. For such a simple snack, I have to say that PBJs are quite delicious – and they taste even better after being refrigerated! How can you possibly beat that? I, mis amigos, am in PBJ heaven. If only I had milk at the office to wash down my PBJ sammiches…If only I had milk at the office…hmmm….

I have come to realize that swimming is not for the weak or ill-conditioned. I’ve started swimming routinely a few times a week and now realize how physically demanding it is. I used to joke with friends that I could swim with ease from Hoboken to New York across the Hudson River. My friends told me that I was crazy and that there was no way I could do it. Now, I realize that they were right. I would sink like the Titanic after a mile. I can run for 45 minutes to an hour without little resistance or exhaustion, but swimming for a half hour wears me out. Swimming is no joke.

My company (known affectionately by me as “The Bergeman”) does a lot of work with clients in Mexico. This has piqued my interest. Anyone who knows me well enough knows of my inclined affinity for the Spanish language and its culture. It has long been a goal of mine to be gun-to-my-head fluent in Spanish. This is an ambition of mine that I’ve failed to keep secret. I am pondering approaching my boss and asking him if I can be involved more with projects dealing with clients in Mexico. The reason I haven’t already run in there like an anxious college kid rushing into his bedroom to lose his virginity (a bad example…I know) is because I fear that they might inundate me with Mexican clients. I think that I am the only engineer who has a grasp of the Spanish language, so they will probably be inclined to drop a lot of those projects on my desk and have me travel frequently back and forth to Mexico. To be honest, I don’t exactly know if that would be a good or bad thing (I can see the pros and cons of that). More than likely, I probably will approach by boss about my interest in being involved with Hispanic clients. There is no better way to learn a language than by immersion. This is a fact of life I’ve learned over the years from my travels. Ain’t no better way to learn than by being confused and uncomfortable.

I don’t exactly know what it is (maybe the delusional consequences of the incinerating heat?), but I am finding myself a wee bit vulnerable to the idea of love. Admittedly, it’s been a minute since I’ve actually been in love…and…I find myself missing that feeling just a little bit. Maybe it’s that I’m getting older and the fact that I’ll be 26 at the end of this year (I sure as hell don’t feel like I’m 25), but my frigid indifference seems to have thawed a bit. I’m not exactly sure why this is. I can’t exactly pinpoint anything in particular, but this is how I am feeling at this current moment. The wind could blow in a different direction tomorrow and so could my feelings – I have little control over these things sometimes.

I don’t exactly even know what I am looking for, to be honest. Love? The comfort of the opposite sex? Companionship? Someone to break the monotony? I really don’t know. I think that I am slowly starting to faintly discern the tick of my biological clock. Kind of like how Captain Hook maniacally hears the ticking of a clock inside the alligator that went all Steve Irwin “Crikey” on his hand. Kind of sort of like that, but not nearly as paranoid. I am by no means old, but I am getting older. Although brown folks would have you believe I’m about as ancient as pagers and dial-up internet.

I think that I ideally would like to date someone for a few years (2-3) and then get married. Which is to say that if I met someone a year from now, I would nearly be 28 by the time I get married. That isn’t too bad, but if it goes longer than that, then it will kind of be pushing it. I think, but I don’t know for certain, that I want to be married or in the process of getting married before the age of 30. I just don’t want my indifference to kick me in the crotch years down the road. My not-giving-a-shit mentality may come back to haunt me. I definitely don’t want to force my own hand and end up with someone who doesn’t really complement me well. I don’t want to settle for someone who is anything less than what I would consider “the shit”. I have heard more than my fair share of horror stories about marriage. Why do all married folks seem to discourage you so intently from marrying? Well, at least the husbands do. Where exactly are the happily married couples?

Now, don’t get me wrong, I want that rose petals and Valentine’s kind of love too, but I more want the chilling on the couch and laughing at one another love. I want a simple love. Believe you me, I got a lot of reserve cake in my inventory, so whoever I end up with will reap the benefits of that, but I just want to end up with someone who I can chill and relax with. I don’t want drama and I don’t want a convoluted and complicated character. I’m like the cable channel TNT – “I Know Drama” – and that’s why I persistently try to avoid it at all costs.

I kind of sort of want what my sister has with her husband. They still act like boyfriend and girlfriend. They still go out, have drinks, and fraternize with friends. They go to see shows in the city and they travel together. I want that. I just want to marry someone that is cool as hell, someone that I would choose as a friend if she was a man. I want to marry someone who has a passion for life and likes to keep things interesting. I just can’t imagine myself with a mundane female whose idea of the perfect Friday night is dinner and a movie. I feel like the best thing about being a couple is that you get to do “couple things”. You know, stuff that will have you saying “no homo” if you were to do with your boys. Things like going to a jazz joint, a museum, dancing, or even spoken word. I think that is the coolest thing about being a couple. You can go to some really cool ass joints in the city and just hang out enjoying one another’s company (how foo-foo does that sound???). I never understood monotonous couples who enjoy doing nothing more than watching a flick on the telly every weekend. I don’t want to be that couple. I like doing stuff (as vague as that sounds). There are way too many things to do to just always be sitting around at the crib – especially if you have someone to do those things with. I don’t want to become stagnant after marrying.

I think that I tend to get into relationships in 2-3 year cycles for some odd reason. I’m about at that point, so maybe something will come up soon enough. Ya never know…ya never know…

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