I got my haircut yesterday.

Getting a haircut used to be a strange experience for me. For about 4 years, I got it cut by a guy named Bill who worked at the college I went to. I went there mostly out of convenience, I had basically had the same haircut from kindergarten until about 8 months ago, and it was something Bill could handle.

The thing about Bill was, he was in his late 50’s but he really thought he knew how to connect with college guys, and so our conversations generally went along these lines:

Bill: “So Pete”, (he always called me Pete) “You like girls, huh?”
Me: “Yeah, I guess.”
Bill: “Me too! But they always get so needy, don’t they?”
Me: (nervous chuckle) “I don’t know…”
Bill: “It’s like, I was on a date with this woman, and she’s already talking about getting married! Can you believe that?”
Me: “Huh.”
Bill: “You’re a young guy though, I bet you’ve got a lot of girlfriends.”
Me: “I don’t know, not really.”
Bill: (a hearty laugh as he punches my shoulder)

Nowdays my friend Amy cuts my hair, and I tend to get incredibly philosophical and introspective with her as we talk about our strengths and weaknesses as people and what God is doing in our lives. It’s very pleasant and enjoyable, but I sometimes miss the sublime awkwardness of an old lecherous man trying to be my friend.

So thanks, Bill. Thank you for those disquieting memories.

What the hell is going on outside?!

I’m a lifelong Minnesotan, but even that left me sadly ill-equipped to deal with the weather this morning. The wind chill was listed at -40, but there I was, walking from my car to my office building without any gloves on.

“I should be fine!” I reasoned, “It’s only a 20 second walk - no problem!”

I kid you not, by the time I got to the door of my building, I could barely operate the door handle. My hands were bright red and I couldn’t really operate them. It was like somebody cut my actual hands off, and attached two meaty claw-like appendages to them. So I pushed and scratched on the door for about 40 minutes.

Eventually, since I couldn’t get in, I began building a lean-to for shelter and use as a home base for future operations. Using my belt and car keys, I concocted a rudimentary weapon that I used to kill people who approached me. Many of them claimed to be offering to help, followed by some asking why I had murdered their co-workers. With a haggard shout I mercilessly killed all of them as my instinct for survival began to kick in. Later I joined a wandering pack of wild dogs. They accepted me and saw the potential in me that humans had thus far failed to recognize. Eventually I rose in ranks until I was a Lt. Colonel of the 9th wild dog batallion. I took the dogs who were under me and led them in an attack against Pearson, my former employer. It was a sight to behold: me, in my battle regalia of cat skins, riding aloft a great dane and barking orders in the ancient language of the dogs, along with 400 mangy, rabid dogs riding through my former office. We torched the call center and then rode on to freedom with our waiting comrades in the hills of western Mongolia.

First off, I need to commend The Sneeze for another amazing entry:

Click here to play The Sneeze’s FREAKY FRANKS!!!

Now on to the business at hand.

My love of awkward situations has been well chronicled through the years, but I plan to use The John Larroquette Project to share some of my all time favorite awkward moments. Sometimes these will be specific events that occurred, other times they will be generic situations that we have all experienced and enjoyed.

Today’s moment is the Awkward Tinkle.

A group of people are relaxing at somebody’s house and having a pleasant conversation (or maybe a small group study). One of them gets up and goes to a nearby bathroom to relieve themselves. Now, if one is lucky, a transcendent moment may occur. A lull in the conversation will directly coincide with the clear, distinct sound of somebody urinating. The response will be:

a) Uncomfortable laughter
or
b) Broken eye contact and prolonged silence.

Clearly B is the more humorous option. Sometimes rather than the sound of urination, the group may be privy to hearing the unmistakable sounds of defecation. This incredibly uncomfortable situation is both humiliating to all involved and hilarious to sadistic people like myself.

My bosses are trying out a new system to encourage their workers. They made a huge cloth racetrack and hung it on one of the walls, and all us employees get a little matchbox car with some velcro stuck on the bottom. If we reach certain individual goals at work, we get assigned points, and then we can advance our respective car that much farther down the track.

If I were a 6 year old boy, then this would be incredibly exciting and effective.

The thinly veiled contempt behind this ploy is incredible. I am an adult, and I work with adults, and management is passing out matchbox cars and hanging up colorful racetracks like we’re in a first grade classroom.

I have no doubt that my lack of enthusiasm about this endeavor, coupled with my inability to work overtime due to my school schedule will mean that I’ll finish towards the tail end of the pack. I don’t have a problem with this, as I refuse to allow myself to be motivated in such an insulting manner.

And anyway, my last day of work here will be on August 1st. I’m happy to work here, and I appreciate what this job has facilitated in my life. But I’m starting to look for my own checkered flag.

On Saturday night, I was enjoying myself at a party. Between conversations, I observed the typically illogical party dynamics that often hamper those sorts of events.

For instance, when I arrived everybody was clustered in a small sitting room. There were 5 or 6 people playing a game, and about 10 people standing (there was no extra seating available) around them watching them play the game.

While this might be thrilling for some, it didn’t exactly push my buttons.

To me, this seemed to be groupthink at its worst. I’m sure that at first there were just a few people there so they started playing a game to alleviate awkwardness (rather than wallow in it, as I would have liked). As other people arrived, groupthink apparently dictated: “Though there are several larger empty rooms with comfortable seating available, we must instead congregate in this smaller room and stand silently while observing these people play games.”

I got there and joined a few friends in going into the other rooms to sit down. When I’m at parties like this, I have a strange tendency to gravitate towards the smallest cluster of people available and stay there. I’m not particularly proud of this. I think it has something to do with my desire to dominate a small group of people and lead them in an bloody but heroic insurrection against their larger oppressor.

At any rate, the party was a blast, and I enjoyed being in party mode again. I was talking with a lot of people, joking around, laughing, and enjoying everybody’s company. Those who have known me for a long time will remember that this used to be my sole mode of existence. And it wasn’t always generous - quite often parties would end up with me shouting loudly as everybody listened to me belligerently drone on about Jeremy the Perfect Boyfriend or whatever else I was making fun of at that point. At the time, I enjoyed those evenings, but now when I look back I remember a lot of people being quiet and looking quizzically at me. Perhaps my fascist bellowing wasn’t as witty and clever as I thought it was at the time…

Nah. I bet it was awesome.

Pete Dirksen is one of my best friends - he’s a guy I’ve known since high school and we’ve remained close friends ever since. Today I’m going to blog about my friend, and celebrate the fact that he’s going to be on TV tonight.

I asked him if he had a photo of himself that I could use for this post, and he insisted on using his senior picture, which is typically strange for him.

Pete and I met in a video production class, and we each pursued that passion in different ways through the years. I continued to study video production throughout college, and now I get to direct Rock TV. Pete studied film in college, and made a couple of short student films, one of which was actually pretty amazing. It was the story of an old fisherman who befriends a wild ape before their differences sadly tear them apart. Pete asked Niles and I to contribute a song to the film, and so we wrote one called Monkey See, Monkey Do, featuring emotional lyrics like:
“Monkey see, monkey do
No one’s quite as happy as me and you
Monkey see, monkey do
I’m going banannas over you

Someday maybe the Pope will find out
And we’ll get locked in the barn”

That film somehow ended up at a marijuana enthusiast’s website, and it can be viewed here.

After college, Pete went out to LA to pursue a career in film and television. He has worked in varying capacities for a few different WB sitcoms, and this year he’s been doing work on a show called “What I Like About You”, starring Jenny Garth from 90210.

Recently, the writers were working on an episode (that will be airing tonight) where a male character gets hired to work at Abercrombie & Fitch, but is asked to work without a shirt on. Pete works with the writers and he got the idea in his head that it would be funny to show up for a writing meeting without a shirt on. Now, like a lot of us, the shirtless look isn’t particularly flattering for him, but he went ahead and did it anyway. He got a call that the writers wanted to ask him something, so he went down to the writing room and walked in without his shirt on. The writers loved it - it got a huge laugh out of them.

Turns out that they had a small one-line role in tonight’s episode that they wanted to give to him because they enjoyed his sense of humor and they thought he could handle it. In fact, he might end up getting a small recurring role if things break right for him, but we’ll see.

So tonight Pete will be on the WB’s What I Like About You airing at 7:30 central. He told me that his appearance comes about 5 minutes into the show. Hopefully if you end up watching, you’ll laugh a little.

P.S. Sorry for the relatively joke-free nature of this post. If you’re looking for a good laugh, Pete emailed me a copy of a senior picture that I took with my friend Jason. Here it is…