You can buy almost anything on eBay

In fact, I keep trying to convince the woman in the cubicle next to mine that she should try to sell her daughter. Her little baby is going into preschool this fall, so while she was reading some informational materials about the school, I asked her if it was a manual for how to sell kids on eBay. She’s still not taking the bait, which I think is her loss—I made her an offer that most people wouldn’t refuse.

Admittedly, the offer was more of a trade than a purchase, but you tell me if these seem like they have comparable value on a website like that: she would give me her young daughter and I’d give her five bucks plus a potato chip that looks like Jesus. Doesn’t that sound like a good deal to you?

Looks aren’t everything

Recently, I’ve been thinking back to an encounter I had at an Oktoberfest last year. Someone walked up to me and asked if I was on a show with beauties and “smart guys.” Very smooth… But she was merely a scout, chosen in large part because of the large rock on her finger that showed both that she was married and that you wouldn’t want to get in the way of her left cross.

After establishing my identity as a cast member on Beauty and the Geek, she walked back to her group of friends, at which point one of them came running out and yelled, “You were my favorite!” She then leapt into my arms and gave me a huge hug which would have been much less awkward if my girlfriend hadn’t been standing five feet away when it happened.

We talked for a while and she told me that she used to be a size 1, but… well, she wasn’t big, but she wasn’t a size 1 anymore. I don’t remember her story—it’s been almost a year since this happened—but when explaining the situation, she wasn’t concerned about having lost her petite figure: “I just don’t give a shit.” Continue reading “Looks aren’t everything”

Mourning of a geek

Some of you may remember Bill from Season 1 of Beauty and the Geek. At the mansion, it seemed like we shared a brain sometimes, which meant we were morally required to keep in touch when it was all over. Sure, I live in the Midwest and he’s on the East Coast, but that’s what telephones are for, right?

Unfortunately, this is a time when I wish I had more than just a phone. I wish I could be there for him in person because he could use the emotional support. A lot of people don’t know this—he hasn’t kept it hidden, but it hasn’t been widely advertised—Bill’s father had leukemia and lymphoma. Yeah, a double whammy. And he hit a triple whammy a couple days ago when he ended up in the hospital with pneumonia.

A friend of his sent me a message this morning to let me know that Bill’s father passed away last night. I don’t know how peaceful it might have been, whether he was in pain or not, how well Bill took it… all I could do was call him on the phone and leave a message to voice my sympathies, tell him that I was here if he wanted to talk about anything. I feel a sense of helplessness in that regard: I want to be there for my friend… but I’m here. And I can’t give him a big hug and let him know how much I care.

Bill, I don’t know if you’re going to read this, but I know other people will. So to everyone else, your prayers and sympathies are always welcome, but I want to ask you for a different favor. I’d like you all to take a moment to appreciate everyone you have in your life: your family, your friends, any loved ones you might have out there.

Sadly, none of us are immortal (or if you are, you’ve done a very good job of hiding it…). Everyone will eventually be gone; you will eventually be gone. Don’t take that time for granted. And try to do more than leave voice mail messages before it’s over.

Take care, Bill. I’m here for you if you need me.