You’ve heard me complain about spam here, but it has become a problem. I can’t keep my “open comment” policy, hahaha. People used to submit comments on really old posts without the moderation. You could submit awkward stories anonymously without worrying that you’ll land in a spam folder. Oh well.
So lately I’ve been going to the gym late at night, since I finally found a small 24-hour gym. No, I am not referring to 24-hour fitness. I have such a paranoia when it comes to large gyms and their contracts, that sometimes the reps cannot answer my questions. This one that I went to, I asked about their equipment maintenance, cancellation policies, their relationship with headquarters, about how they qualify their customers, and what other products they offer. Do they work on commission? How many clients do they have? Can I view a copy of the contract before coming in to sign it?
I’ve lost hundreds of dollars with big gyms before. That experience, plus my ability to make situations awkward (it’s a gift), really gives me a boost in gym representative dissatisfaction. I don’t ask for free stuff, I don’t try to negotiate or complain. I just ask a lot of questions. How much do they get paid? No, I didn’t go there. That seems a bit rude, right?
Besides, the gym is just an awkward place anyway. From naked old people, to the meatheads at the free weights section. Putting a lot of sweaty people on machines that make you look like hamsters.. and then adding huge glass windows for people to look into in order to give that full hamster cage effect can really get to you. But man, some of us really have to work out.
Awkward. Out of breath already. From themetapicture.com
I’ve been a fan of photography for a while. I got pushed into being the “Historian” for a couple of organizations in the past, not because of my awesome ability maintain great records on paper or because I’m extremely committed to things (since I’m probably neither), but because I take lots of pictures of random stuff.
Street photography, also known as a mild form of stalking strangers (what ever that means), is one of my secret hobbies. A street photographer attempts to capture life as it is, without fake smiles and without any poses that will make your boobs look bigger. A photographer showed me a picture of myself and a friend while we were sharing a nasty piece of tiramisu outside of a dessert place, and I felt like it really caught our personalities on a screen. I could tell he was a little nervous about letting us know what he captured, but we knew that privacy went out the window once we left our private homes and ventured into public space.
From people picking their noses, to capturing some fights about to break out, and people laughing at themselves laughing (whoa, that’s some Inception crap right there), it really calms me down. But of course, that comes with a share of awkward moments.
1. I forgot to turn off the flash on my camera one time, and it even went off with the red-eye light thing too. It was a person feeding the ducks. He quickly turned my way and adjusted his posture.. and I missed my shot. Posing ruins it.
2. An older woman called me a perv for getting down, belly-on-the-sidewalk status, in order to catch some leaves dancing around the sidewalk. I know, not very discreet on my end, but sometimes you just have to get on the ground, you know?
3. A couple of drunk girls asked me to take their photos out on the sidewalk once. So I asked for their camera, and they said they didn’t have one, and their cell phones were dead. Trying to be funny, I pretended to take out an imaginary camera and “snap” their photo. They said thank you over and over, while I just stood there, and they stumbled away. Uh, what?
All photos here, along with the ones on instagram.com/edwincov are taken with an iPhone 4S.
See, to be honest with you guys, things just happen. I don’t consider myself to be an awkward person.. but we all seem normal to ourselves, I guess, right? I’ve been spending a few years now searching for something that I enjoy doing for its sake. I’m actually beginning a new blog on just that: What to do with our lives.
Every single one of my friends can probably tell you that I have been wondering about purpose for quite some time. I ask them what they want out of life, I ask them about their future, about their wants and needs. It started a while ago, when I discovered what working in a cubicle actually meant. I started questioning everything and went into deep confusing and frustrating times. It has been almost 5 years since it all started, and my eyes keep opening up.
Do I really want to live tied down to a job where I have to ask for permission to go see my family?
Will I ever be able to go out and enjoy my time on a Monday morning?
I can’t seem to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing, am I just dumb?
I watched some movies, I read many books. Took legit college courses. I bothered my friends. I talked to almost everyone who would be willing to listen. I spoke with professionals, pastors, old friends, and business owners. You’d be surprised to know how many people have also felt this way, and out of that particular bunch, you can tell the obvious difference between those who settled, and those who kept questioning and chose to follow their ideas. You probably already know which group had it “easier”.
Some of you guys have already found my new blog somehow, but it isn’t quite ready yet. I’ll still be here in awkward land, where the sun shines bright, and farts are announced with pride. I’ll actually be announcing it here on Monday morning.
Just out of curiosity, have you felt the same way?
What advice would you give to someone in this position? (In the comments below ↓)
I am seriously surprised at the enormous amount of number and letter combinations I can remember to access my favorite websites and online services. Stamps, Google, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest, WordPress, HootSuite, Yahoo!, MyNook… and the list goes ON AND ON!
Some request a capital letter and a number, others BEG you to include a “special character” …uhh like in a TV show? I pick Dwight from The Office. Oh, you mean one of these !@#$%^&*()_
I once entered a password and it was all like “You changed that a while ago, remember?” … so they keep track of my current password AND my past passwords. Dude, that was way back when I was into Pokemon.
On top of that, I have to remember my usernames. I try to keep it pretty constant, but every once in a while, someone takes my very unique name that I use everywhere. I pretty much make a face like this when I see that:
So naturally I need to check to see if the person who owns that account is worthy of the username, and most of the time they haven’t logged on since 2002. C’mon, people. Remember my previous post on usernames? Mega lame.
Thank you so much for your current submissions! You guys ROCK. Let’s keep it going, we have a few more days. From my previous post:
Instead of giving general advice that you can find in a free magazine at your taco stand, let’s hear some stories from real people in order to give hope to others who are searching and find it impossible to find somebody during these times as we approach a Hallmark holiday. I’d like you to:
Share the story of how you met someone special. Type it up, it can be as long or as short as you want.
Submit it on this website via a comment, the “Submit” page on the top of this website, or on your own blog and share the link on here.
Read your own story along with the stories of other people on a story post to be published this upcoming Friday morning.