Who do I still think I am??

This one's about me-time.

30DBC PROMPT: "Tell me something great to do in your location that only a local would know about."

What's up everybody? Nothin' sadder on an overcast day than when two separate blogging-themed groups have to scrape at the bottoms of their respective barrels to come up with some kind of serviceable prompts. Must be close to the end of the month.

I'm only mocking this "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  prompt because it's better than knocking a town that can't even defend itself. Oh sure, I could take the easy way out and talk about all the cool shit going down this and every summer in the Western New York area, but trust me, it's a lot more fun talking about what there isn't to do in Cortland (located in non-descript Central New York). And I say that not just because I'm a miserable prick with limited opportunities and capabilities, but because really, there's nothin' goin' on around here unless you've got kids or enjoy all kinds of Redneck Olympic events.

It's not for lack of effort, mind you. It's just that I don't find trips to Wal-Mart, CVS or Guns-R-Us all that enjoyable. And I'm known in some circles as actually being a fun-loving person! This craphole on the map is severely damaging my social reputation by the minute. Every day is just another day where I fade into the sidewalk as the crazy guy with the green bag, the funny hat and the limp. The only halfway friendly people are usually the mentally unstable ones, and they don't know you from one day to the next anyway. Everybody else just seems inconvenienced or preoccupied. So screw 'em.

It may sound like I'm complaining, but I'm not. The nice thing about this town sucking is that I don't have to worry about having to decide what events to attend in favor of others that I'll wind up missing for another year. I'm not spending money on mediocrity or disappointment. I'm avoiding large crowds and unsightly guests. I don't have to worry about being polite or discreet. I don't owe this place anything, and I don't have to care. All of that makes it feel kinda beautiful to be here in a way.

If anything, after trying to fit in wherever I could and failing, being here has taught me how to better appreciate getting along with myself in a limited environment. I've learned a lot by having only me to rely on more than ever. That's something even the coolest of cool places full of bells, whistles, vices and charms can't teach you. There's nothing else to hide from or get lost in, and even less to regret later. If I'm not happy with that, it's on me and only me. I'm completely ok with that.

BCF PROMPT: "Do you prefer showering or bathing?"

And then there's this nugget of personal hygiene from the "Blogging Circle of Friends Prompt Forum" . Allow me to be blunt for the first time in a few minutes, please...this prompt reeks of "OMG, I can't think of anything to use as a prompt" while staring at a computer screen for over a half hour rerunning the word "prompt" over and over through the brain hoping something witty, challenging and useful will come of it. But that never works. How do I know? I went on Twitter today for the first time in probably a month because I actually thought of something kinda funny to tweet, but couldn't think of a proper hashtag to finish the tweet with. And if you know anything about Twitter, you know that the hashtag is nearly as important as the tweet itself. That's the bow on the present; the cherry on the sundae. A tweet without a hash tag is just a Facebook status...and even Facebook now encourages hashtagging, which is kinda like your grandparents rockin' a def pair of Chuck Taylors because "that's what all the cool kids wear these days". Only, they don't, and it's just a paltry attempt at relevance. You're not just late to the party there, Facebook...you just RSVP'd yourself to a party that nobody wanted you at anyway and nobody said anything once you showed up 'cuz you brought Doritos and you used to be fun, but now you're just kinda there ridin' on your name in the past with your collar popped like it's 1986 and playin' the wall like the last gummy bear in the bag on a hot day.

Uhhhhh, what were we talkin' about again? Oh yeah. My bathroom self-cleansing preferences. Because that's something to talk about.

I wish I would've seen this prompt last night, so I could've meditated upon it while I was in the middle of my daily cleaning process. I think it's a pretty universal fact that most people do the majority of their thinking while alone in a bathroom. I know I do. What I do physically while the water's running is just a routine forged from muscle memory and requires no thought; I need to conserve all the brain power I can for things I need to know throughout the coming hours I'm still awake and functional. Places I need to go, things I need to do, what I'm gonna eat, all that "to-do list" stuff. That all gets sorted out in the privacy of washing myself.

And nothing- I mean nothing- is worse than having your me-time interrupted, for any reason. All it takes is one idiot knocking on the door. "Hey! Are you in the bathroom?" And you know they full well know you're in the damn bathroom, and not in any position to be asked or answering any kind of question. You're at the height of vulnerability. Your only focus is on the task you're in the middle of. Not what you want for dinner, or what that catty broad from work told you, or if the trash got taken out, or if you're almost done. Nothing else matters...just you and your thoughts and your mission. The rest of the house could be on fire, and there's a million and a half dollars waiting for you just for vacating the premises, but you don't care because you ain't goin' nowhere until all your thoughts are thunk, and besides, you won't burn anyway because you're surrounded by water, so you don't care...you'll leave when you're damn good and ready.

Oh, by the way...the answer to the question is "showering". Bathing is just sitting in a tub full of water that becomes a liquefied version of your own filth, no matter how bubbly you make it. But that's just a simple male perspective. I don't have to worry about shaving my sexy legs, so I don't have any insight as to whether or not it's easier to do that from a seated position (though I imagine it is, infinitesimally). Maybe tomorrow we can discuss shaving with electric razors versus non-electric razors, or boxers versus briefs. Maybe apples and oranges? Pens/pencils/markers? Rock Paper Scissors? Favorite games? Just don't ask me to decide anything...that isn't one of my favorite things to do.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

This is about as appropriate as it gets today.

THE DAILY BOX SCORE:

I haven't done the research yet, but I'm in favor of a Peanut Butter and Jelly-flavored ice cream. Maybe vanilla ice cream with peanut butter swirls and strawberry chunks. I'm all about it.

You can't tell me the thought of saying this hasn't crossed your diseased little minds pretty little heads:

And the end result of the infamous minutes-long staredown I had with Twitter this afternoon:

9: The number of apps needing an upgrade when I powered up the Blackberry today. Nothing had been upgraded since, oh, I don't know when. Took me almost two hours because they only load one at a time. And the battery was dead- totally. It wouldn't even turn on at first without being plugged in. Technology's stupid.

And I'm done with today. Gonna figure out what life means for a little bit and once I do, I'll meet ya there. 'Til then #peace, #outtahere, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!