Winding DownDownDown

SantaScottIt’s Christmas around the world shortly and bloggers everywhere are shutting the hell up. Okay, at least I am, but this is probably a good thing. If you’re feeling lost and abandoned with the sporadic nature of posts of late, well, while I appreciate the audience, I hope Santa brings you a life for 2011.

Here are the pros and cons of blogging for me as experienced this year, in no particular order:

  • Pro: Blogs impress girls
  • Con: Whether it’s the right kind of girls remains to be seen
  • Pro: I got a fashion overhaul
  • Con: I have nothing to WEAR!
  • Pro: A reason to keep up with current events and media
  • Con: Actually keeping up with current events and media
  • Pro: There is a reason to sit down and write daily
  • Con: I am drinking way more coffee

(Pauses for coffee…)

  • Pro: Media Exposure
  • Con: Stalker Chick
  • Pro: Can describe self as “blogger”
  • Con: New synonym for “loser”
  • Pro: Colleagues in the Blogosphere
  • Con: Colleagues in the Blogosphere
  • Pro: Good excuse to start using Twitter
  • Con: Twitter
  • Pro: Using Photoshop to make clever composite photos
  • Con: Blog – 20 minutes. Clever composite – 3 hours.

The list could go on and on I am sure. That’s the easy part. However, I have presents to wrap and Christmas baking to avoid. Oh, and a clever composite to photoshop. I’ll post in 3 hours…

Published in: on December 22, 2010 at 10:29 am  Comments Off on Winding DownDownDown  
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Too Many Options

The future is so bright. And I have no prescription sunglasses.

Kathryn and I emerged unscathed from the first foray into popular media. You will recall Mr. Media Journalist of last week who was avalanched by a mountain of words in an attempt to understand exactly what it was we were up to and shape and contain it in article form. He extracted himself admirably.

My observation then and now is that we wrote the article for him. It was all there. Sound bites, creative non-sequiturs, meat and potatoes, everything he needed. His challenge was to weed through the gravy, the gallons of gravy of verbosity, that we heaped upon his plate.

His was an editing job of substantial proportions, the needle in a wordly haystack. I’m in a little bit of trouble as Cute Instigator, the person who introduced Kathryn and I, does not feel she was adequately represented in the story. I told her, in this case, it’s okay to shoot the messenger.

We have taken a week off from further incursions into the Resurrection of Me, you know, Christmas and all. Probably a good idea I stop talking about myself directly (although, really, I am quite beautiful now)(the washroom is that way, if you don’t get to the Gravol fast enough) and perhaps deal with my take on some men’s issues while we wait for the next segment of the adventure.

So, in a tradition of casual, lazy Friday blogs, this is, more or less, all folks.

Christmas Presence

Platypus-transparentAs it turned out, perhaps I wasn’t as desperately in need of Kathryn’s next module as I was of the wardrobe thing. Still it was kind of nice to have affirmation that I am not quite the social boob I could have been. Turns out that, instinctively, I grasped the fundamentals of things like introductions, handshakes and other common interactions.

We kept things primarily to business subjects. Reaction to the new look has been so positive with the harem that I think Kat avoided too much talk of dating protocol to give the poor girls a chance to catch their breath.

Okay, just taking a moment to stop laughing and come out of my daydream.

I’m not going to give away the farm, as the poor girl is trying to make a living, but I will say there is some excellent information to be had, particularly with her tips for working a room. Some of them I will have to put into practice, I think, before I fully believe and internalize them.

There is a bit of a credibility thing. Oh, not to say Kathryn is lacking any. It’s just that, well, she’s Tall, Blonde and Hot. The sort of person who creates a certain impact by simply showing up. It’s rather easy to think that different sets of rules apply to Tall Blonde and Hot and Platypus.

Not so, she claims.

Well, I’ve got to trust her. Who knew I’d look good in sleeves? So, I need a Christmas Party, preferably of the Cocktail variety, to practice my Room Working. Any takers? I promise not to show up Tall or Blonde. Hot I can do.

Published in: on December 6, 2010 at 10:21 am  Comments Off on Christmas Presence  
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The 10 Percent Suit

Due to timing (before Christmas) and attitude (Cheap Bastard), one of my requirements for any wardrobe adjustments was that my wallet stay tightly sealed during the process. While Kathryn is not one to pout, I could see that I was spoiling some of her good time. I must admit, I can see the appeal, shopping with someone else’s money provided you like the shopping in the first place.

In fact, having gone through this process now, I am re-thinking the idea of becoming independently wealthy for two reasons:

  1. I want someone to clean my house and make sure there are bits of fresh lemon and fresh lime in the fridge for me at all times (it just FEELS decadent!), and
  2. Hiring Kathryn to do shopping for me, bringing me things that flatter me, look good and keep my time in clothing stores somewhere around my preferred level of nil.

So by Item #2 alone, the process was a success. But let’s look at the additional successes, shall we?

I am something of a creative spirit, though I like to think of myself as grounded (I hear laughing. Shut the hell up!). While I don’t partake myself, I do occasionally hang with crowds who think that interpretive dance is an acceptable way to conduct a conversation. Kathryn did pick up on the fact there are bohemian elements to my life and incorporated this into unifying my body type with an upscaling of my appearance. So prior to the wonderful work Veronica did with landscaping on my skull, I was already looking somewhat different:


Now… without a haircut and a shave (a state that naturally occurs in about a month) I look like a writer rather than (to refresh your memory):

Scott VV2

someone for whom “grievous bodily harm” is a hobby, despite the happy face bandanna, which completely fails to counter the misogyny lurking within. Who would YOU sit next to on a bus?

And now, exhibit B, still in the thrift shop, still prior to being shorn, I submit:


A variation on the scarf and hat photo above, and still worlds away from looking like Randy Bachman’s and Burton Cummings’ Bastard Love Child (with a slight hint of Kurt Winter). If you don’t recognized the names, or the Guess Who, their band, rectify that. Immediately. Plus, I look warm, don’t I?

Finally, the last in our sequence from the Hand Me Down World:


Holy crap! You could take him home to meet the parents. Perhaps even my own. How timely with the holiday season upon us.

Now, this brings us to the coup de grace (d’etat, maybe, in my case?), the point where Kathryn really performed the magic that earned my respect. I offer you the find of the day:


What you are looking at is a Ralph Lauren suit, navy, merino wool, looking all the world as though it was tailored for me. And it was not tailored for me. For those who missed it, it was determined that I share body proportions with a platypus. This suit is tailored for a human platypus. Now, probably some will suspect that with the encroaching years, I may have succumbed to premature senility and bought a suit that I previously donated. Certainly a possibility, except for one thing: When the hell would I go buying any $500 designer suit? I will have to be farther along the road to dementia, driving in the fast lane, for that to have occurred. Secondarily, I don’t recall ever owning a navy suit before. And it is the suit of the title, the 10% suit. No, they did not knock $50 off. THE FRIKKIN SUIT COST $40! The Lauren shirt and Hilfiger tie brought the total to around $55. With no A, B, C, D, E, F, G, or HST.

Kathryn is not magical.

Kathryn is miraculous.

Me? One step closer to being James Bond.

Thrift Shopping With A Cheapass Bastard

Ironically, if I may start Monday Morning with irony, I have a clothes shopping date set up on Thursday.

No, this is not some new angle to meet women, nor is it designed to endear me to a woman already met. Nor either have I lost a bet, run out of underwear, discovered Hell has frozen over, found a sale on XXL Beatles t-shirts or discovered a heretofore unknown tie dye factory.

Kathryn, my Image Consultant (ironical in itself), is taking me shopping on Thursday, American Thanksgiving, and a day before the most storied shopping day of the year in the States.

edndax390_01Great, all I need a month before Christmas is another hole in my wallet. I am the Cheapass Bastard of the title, on the off chance there was doubt. I don’t care to spend a lot of money on myself, or dressing myself. It’s one of the things that caused core muscles to pucker when this image consultant idea first arose.

Kathryn approached it delicately – would I be averse to thrift store shopping? Excuse me? I presume I wasn’t making it clear early on about the Cheapness of my Ass Bastardy. Not only did I not care, but in a curious bit of reverse genetic succession, I’ve acquired a comfort in thrift stores passed up from my daughter to whom thrift stores are low budget wonderlands.

My issues have been covered in this blog previously. Big and Round, remember? A thrift store is a different beast. No rows of james bond photocall 240108comforting uniformity. The answer to the question, “Do you have this in a larger size?” is “No” accompanied by a look that suggests fundamental idiocy on my behalf. If they only knew.

So now Kathryn is even going to scout these places out for me, have stuff put aside. Her job is a particularly disturbing circle of hell, one I believe Dante missed (but he was from Florence, so perhaps shopping wasn’t a big deal for him), where she spends time in stores looking for things for Other People. As I can’t stand doing that when looking for myself, I am totally appalled at the idea.

Yet, her message from the get go is that you don’t have to spend a lot of money to address image. I presume, though, it helps. That’s for another day.

I hope that there is more in my size than a yellow and brown plaid corduroy sport coat. It may not be much, but I DO have an image to maintain.

Time to put on my red t-shirt. I need security.

Published in: on November 22, 2010 at 9:04 am  Comments Off on Thrift Shopping With A Cheapass Bastard  
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