11.29.09

Tomorrow’s Not Promised, But Pimples May Be

Posted in Uncategorized at 5:31 pm by wmrj

It was a dark and stormy night. Actually, it really wasn’t stormy. The weather was perfect. The stormy part is just for effect. Just go with it. Umm, so, it was a dark and stormy night. I was minding my own business as I headed to my car after class. It was then that it happened. I had just crossed the street and was about to step onto the curb when a car began backing up toward me. My life flashed before my eyes as the car bore down on me at less than a half a mile an hour. At that moment, I thought about all my unfinished business, all the TV shows I’d miss, the fish I hadn’t fed, and that ham sandwich I’d left in the refrigerator. Most of all, if something happened to me, who would keep up with my blog? I had to do something. Fortunately, my survival instincts kicked in and, with seconds to spare, I stepped onto the curb and out of harms way. The woman—yes, it was a woman—rolled down her window and apologized for almost turning me into road kill. Thus, I’m here to add yet another chapter into the ongoing saga that is the life and times of Michael Rochelle.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been under attack by a force that has terrorized me for much of my adult life: acne. And we’re not talking just a blemish here and there. No, we’re talking a mutiny of pimples that are threatening to multiply and take over the world one citizen at a time. I’m serious. When people see me, they either quickly cover their children’s eyes or give them markers so that they can play connect the dots. Several clubs have even threatened to charge me for multiple admissions because of my new facial friends. Last week, a hospital asked me if I’d be so kind as to sign my zits in on the visitors log. Worst of all, I’ve gained like 10 pounds in pimples alone. Ok, maybe 10 pounds is exaggerating a little, but I can guarantee you at least 9 for sure.

The funny thing is that I don’t feel like I’m under any more stress than usual. I mean, the bill collectors aren’t calling any more frequently than they typically do, and so far I’ve held them off by offering them my mom’s and dad’s tickets to my upcoming graduation. I’ve even promised to immediately hand over any monetary gifts I receive that day. But, when I think about it, having acne isn’t all bad. If I’m ever attacked and I don’t have my mace or nunchucks on me, I can just yell, “Back off!” and aim a pimple at them. It’s very effective and it works against worrisome family members too. Test it out if you don’t believe me. The next time your mother corners you and tries to force you to wash dishes or take the trash out because you’re 38 and you need to learn some responsibility, just aim and squeeze! Twenty extra points if you get her in the eye.

Speaking of something getting in someone’s eye, I’ve recently seen several TV shows where a loved one had been cremated, and family members were saying their goodbyes by scattering ashes at the beach, in a field, or off the top of buildings with people watching below. It made me wonder if all that soot in the air is really smog. Maybe it’s really just Uncle Wilbur flying on his way to his final destination. There, it’s settled. From here on out, I’m not washing my car again. Who am I to rinse off Uncle Wilbur if he’s happy there? How selfish of me! Maybe he’s my guardian angel and that’s how he kinda hangs around. I don’t know this for a fact. I’m just saying.

And while we’re on the topic of washing, maybe we should no longer take showers either. As mentioned, showering could interrupt our bond with someone’s Uncle Wilbur or Aunt Myrtle, but choosing not to do so could also have other advantages. For myself, I like to shower with the music on. Most often I’m pretending that I’m not so much in the shower as I am preparing for my American Idol audition. Anyway, this one particular day I was doing the Michael Rochelle version of Whitney Houston’s “Greatest Love of All” when I could have sworn I heard something in the living room. I turned the music down for a moment and listened. Nothing. Without missing a beat, I began singing the bridge and was about to wow the crowd and graciously receive a standing ovation when I heard the noise a second time. Again, I turned the music down and heard nothing.

At this point, I assumed that maybe one of my neighbors was moving stuff around in their apartment. Although I know they pay rent and have the right to make a little noise every now and then, I didn’t appreciate them messing up my solo. I should really write a letter to the rental office or the mayor. Next time I think I’ll just call the police. Anyway, just as I began to sing yet a third time, I heard a voice yell, “Maintenance!” Slowly, I slid the shower curtain back enough for me to poke my head out and saw the source of the disturbance. A maintenance woman, and two guys from the gas and electric company were standing at the bathroom door! See, this is exactly why I need a house instead of an apartment. You just never know what intimate moments you’ll share with anyone who has access to a key. Initially I felt lucky that I hadn’t chosen a see-through shower curtain. Then again, since I’m still single, maybe if the shower curtain were see-through, I’d have a date tonight. Geez, I have the worse luck.

On a serious note, with the passing of Thanksgiving and my minor brush with death—even though the car would have had to have gunned it and knocked me into the street where I would have subsequently been hit by two trucks and parked on by a school bus—I’ve been thinking a lot about the things that I’m thankful for and enjoying them now while I have the chance. As we all know, tomorrow is not promised. In fact, the rest of the day isn’t promised. However, as opposed to thinking about this morbidly, why not use this fact as a spark to enjoy life a little more. Yes, I have acne. I went to bed last night with four zits and woke up with about twelve, but it could always be worse. I should be thankful that it’s just a few pimples that will eventually go away with the right combination of prescriptions and prayer as opposed to my having something more serious. Although the zits make me want to hide under the bed and cry a lot, based on some of the things other people are going through, they’re really no big deal. So what if people scream when they see me and quickly cross over to the other side of the street. It’s just a temporary condition and I can’t be arrested for it—again.

And as far as us not knowing what tomorrow holds, why not do or start planning to do the things you’ve always wanted to do today. If you’ve always wanted a degree in, say, the study of cheese steaks, why not jump online to see which schools have a program for that sort of thing and review the requirements for getting started. If you’ve always wanted a house because you’re tired of flashing the maintenance guy and him not reciprocating, start saving today in order to make that possible. And what if you wanted to be a model but you’re held back by a few blemishes? Well, until they go away, why not model your big toe or your left knee or something until you get the results you want? I hear ankles are very big in Germany—no pun intended. There’s no need to wait until the new year to start making changes in your life. If you start today, you’ll be well on your wait to seeing some sort of result tomorrow—unless you’re on acne medicine, then, supposedly, your time frame is about six to eight weeks.

Michael Rochelle
Access my full blog: http://www.justmichael.net/blog
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11.01.09

A Few Things To Know When You’re Single

Posted in Uncategorized at 10:05 am by wmrj

When I turned twelve plus three plus ten plus five the other week, I took myself to Atlantic City. In my opinion, you don’t just turn twelve plus three plus ten plus five without doing something big to celebrate that milestone. You don’t just go to work or school as if it’s just another day in the neighborhood. It’s not. It means you’ve lived three decades and are working towards a forth. What I didn’t expect was the reaction I got from people when I’d said I had gone by myself. It was as if I’d said I had been attacked by a ferret wearing a trench coat and leather pumps. You should have seen the look of shock on everyone’s face whom I told. Just imagine the scene in any horror movie where the star is finally cornered by the killer. Yeah, their faces kinda looked like that.

Next, they ask why I would do such a thing and how could I possibly have fun by myself. Well, at this age, people have responsibilities, so it’s not so easy to coordinate trips when people have to request days off from their jobs, and request time off from their spouses, and request time off from their boyfriends/girlfriends on the side, and still beat their children on a regular basis. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been turned down with this line, “Oh, no, Michael, I’m sorry. I can’t do Friday. I have to whip Little Davey that night. He just turned two and I can’t miss out on that.”

I enjoy my own company. For me, being single is not some form of affliction for which I should be quarantined or taken out back and shot. I like doing the things that I want to do at my own pace. Trying to coordinate other people’s schedules and likes and dislikes with yours can kinda put a damper on spontaneity. For example, when I got highly frustrated and began going into convulsions because I’d lost $40 in a slot machine, I was able to immediately run screaming out of the building to the nearest clothing store and bought some shirts to calm me down. I didn’t have to explain that change of plans to anyone. That’s what I call freedom. And when I went to the Absecon Lighthouse and struck up a conversation with 69-year-old Bayard, there was no one there to ridicule me for somehow finding the other oldest person in the world besides myself—whose birthday was the same day as mine—and striking up a conversation with him for hours as we talked about the good old days. And if anyone can talk about what life was like during the 1820’s or the Great Depression, it’s me.

Despite the fun times I have as a single person, there are some things you should know if you happen to be a loner. For instance, some restaurants will not let you have a table or a booth when you are just a party of one. Instead, they may force you to sit at the bar, or at the counter where they take money, or—if they really feel bad for you—in one of the stalls in the restroom. If you are fortunate enough to sit at the counter, don’t be surprised if people slide your plate over a bit so that they can use your space to set their purses and wallets down while they pay. One time, someone even asked to have a taste of my fries. It was the least I could do.

Also, when you sit at the counter or bar with the other random relationship-impaired rejects, the people on either side of you will inevitably have some form of cough. And it won’t be just a simple, one-time cough. It will be one of those whooping coughs from deep within that makes you cover your food from unidentified flying particles and forces you to wonder if you’ll go to jail or be sued for not performing CPR if the person doesn’t recover and starts to turn blue. You’ll then look at all the empty tables that the establishment won’t let you have and you’ll wonder if you can take them to court for discrimination or at least tell your momma on them.

In order to avoid all this drama, you could grab some random stranger or homeless person out front and ask them to join you. At that point, the establishment will have to seat you at a table and the waiter won’t be able to say in the loudest voice possible, “We have a party of one!” Of course, you might then be asked to pay for your new friend’s food too, so I would first ask the greeter if the voices in your head or your multiple personalities count towards the number of people in your group before rounding up a posse and doing a meet and greet with strangers outside the restaurant, but that’s just me.

If the establishment does allow you to be seated at a table by yourself, it will either be by the restroom where you’ll be exposed to various aromas each time someone enters or exits, or you’ll be seated in the center of the room where all the patrons can observe you in your full glory. When this happens, I automatically open a packet of mayonnaise and smear it on the sides of my face just to get it over with. Since you’re single, that type of embarrassing stuff is going to happen to you anyway where you’ll walk around all day not knowing that you’ve got ketchup on your forehead or spinach in your ear. Either you can be proactive and do it yourself, or you can wait for it to happen naturally. But don’t kid yourself into thinking you can be neat. It is going to happen.

Lastly, no matter how lonely you are or how good and comforting they look, DO NOT EAT THE PEANUTS OR PRETZELS FROM THE BOWLS AT THE BAR! Yuck! Just don’t do it. Save yourself the doctor’s office visit unless you need a couple days off from work and don’t mind having a near-death encounter to justify it. And don’t think it’s sexy to roll a peanut around on your chin, down your neck, across your chest, and into your lap. Trust me. It’s not. And it may even get you thrown out of the restaurant. Now, I don’t know this from personal experience, but it has happened to me a couple of times.

In my opinion, it’s important to keep your own personal comfort level in mind when you’re single and stick with it. Don’t let people scare you away from doing the things you want to do and enjoying life because you don’t have a plus one. In addition to having bad breath, low personal hygiene, and a horrid personality, not being out and about could be another reason as to why you aren’t meeting people. If you’re comfortable going to the movies alone, by all means, go. If you don’t have a problem getting dressed up and taking yourself out on a date to a fancy restaurant alone, then do so. Don’t let other peoples inhibitions cage you as well. Don’t wait until you find someone else whose schedule aligns with yours or until you find your soul mate before you start living. Now is the perfect time to get out there and get active. It’s one of the few times in life where it’s ok to be completely self-centered. Besides, those faces of horror and shame when you tell your friends all the things you’ve done by yourself are sooooooooooo worth it!!!

Michael Rochelle

Access my full blog: http://www.justmichael.net/blog
Access my website: http://www.justmichael.net