While I continue to figure out what I'm going to do about a new laptop, I did finally get a new BlackBerry. The Pearl threw in the white towel after I not only dumped [excuse the pun] her in the commode, but then continued to accidentally drop her at least once a week until she no longer worked.

She was one tough phone, I'll say. Maybe I should invest in a protective case [a waterproof one at that]. You never know when you'll need your BlackBerry to save your life.


So my new PIN is 307F03B1. Then again, I did just find out that a new BlackBerry is coming out. I don't know if the BlackBerry Tour is any better than what's out now, but it's not a touch screen so maybe I'll see if I can fast talk Verizon into letting me swap out since I did just get the Curve.

Let's say you're about to have surgery. And let's say the doctor walks into the room and he/she looks fresh out of medical school. And just out of curiosity you ask how many times this doctor has performed this surgery. And the answer you receive is "a couple times in medical school, but I'm a really fast learner."

The amazing thing about answers like "but I'm a really fast learner" is that whoever says that thinks that's supposed to put someone at ease. Essentially the phrase is the same thing as saying, "I've never done this before and there are hundreds if not thousands of others more qualified."

When interviewing candidates I cringed when I hear the viral phrase. We don't doubt that you are a fast learner; we just doubt that you're more qualified than someone who has already learned it. And recruiters, HR directors, department heads, hiring managers and anyone else filling a vacancy are not in the business to help someone get a job. Our jobs are to identify the most qualified person for the specific job. And if you have to learn how to do it, you're not the one.

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'Note to Jobseekers: We're Not Looking for Fast Learners!'

So a woman missed Air France Flight 447 which ended up crashing into the ocean. She does make it home, eventually, and gets into a car accident and dies.

As soon as I heard about Air France Flight 447 going down, naturally I thought terrorism was involved. As the truth started to unfold, though, the explanations included equipment failure, flying too slow for the altitude and anything else that had nothing to do with terrorism. And slowly, as all stories that dominate the media and command the world's attention, France Flight 447 became a memory as the focus now is the shooting at the Holocaust Musem.

And when no one's paying attention, it gets reported that there were terrorist suspects on the plane after all.



The unofficial/official word is still anything other than terrorism, but how will anyone ever know? The word is there was no explosion, even though pilots in the area reported they did see a bright flash in the area. I'm still having a hard time believing a pilot with 20 years experience and 11,000 hours of flight time [1,700 hours with the same type of plane] wasn't going fast enough for his altitude.

Unfortunately, as our short attention spans prevent us from focusing on anything long enough to draw any realistic conclusions, we move on the Holocaust Museum shooting. Well, for now.

To earn any kind of income while looking for work years ago in Atlanta, I set out to get a waiter job. Comparing myself to the wait staff I've experienced, I concluded that my work ethic, people-person personality and desire for advancement with a company [even if it's a restaurant] would motivate any general manager to hire me. During my interviews I would express my lofty goals in life, how I've held management positions and started my own business. But after receiving exactly zero call backs for even a waiter job, I was starting to wonder what was the problem. Who can't take an order, put it into a computer, bring out food and forget to refill drinks? Finding a job as a waiter was just as hard as finding a job period!

Venting is an understatement of how I reacted back then. It seemed as if the only job I could find was call center, network marketing and temp work. I was b!tching! Was it because I was a man? Black [and Korean but who knew]? Desperate?

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'Have You Ever Been Told You Were Overqualified for a Job?'

First he puts on fake gold teeth before he steps on to the field. Then he changes his last name to Ocho Cinco. Now he gets tattoos on his face! It's not quite Mike Tysonesque, but the state of Florida?



UPDATE: Just like his gold teeth on game day, Chad Ocho Cinco's tats are fake. I wonder if he really did change his last name?

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'Chad Ocho Cinco Gets His Face Tattooed'

You ever have one of those days that never seems to end, and everything around you is happening as it did the day before and the day before that, and it seems like you're caught up in a repetitive cycle and everything is always the same, and no matter what happens you already knew it was going to happen, and then, somehow something happens [like receiving yet another email joke from Moshi] that takes your mind off of the cycle for just a second, but that's all you need to make it through the day...

When Bobby Cato first sent me the link, I glanced at the site and thought it was just another club/bar/lounge that opened here in Washington, DC, and I figured I'd visit the site again later to see why Cato would send me a link to another club/bar/lounge that opened here in Washington, DC. Then the Going Out Gurus of the Washington Post did a write up, and now I see why this isn't just another club/bar/lounge that opened here in Washington, DC.

Golf isn't really my thing [I've yet to even swing a real golf club], but growing up in Fayetteville, NC, Putt-Putt was pretty popular [the company Putt-Putt was founded by Don Clayton, a Fayetteville, NC, native, for those who just had to know] since there was nothing else to do other than walk around Cross Creek Mall. And H Street Country Club take miniature golf and puts a local spin to it. Where else are you going to find Ben's Chili Bowl on the first hole?

The other day someone asked why I quit blogging. Apparently she doesn't read my blog often. I wasn't using protection and my laptop got infected with the electronic version of The Swine Flu! And just as I started receiving suggestions for free virus protection websites and whatever, well, my laptop went kaput.

Otherwise I would've blogged about the satisfaction of watching Superman beat up on Prince James. And I would've tossed in my two cents about how the media painstakingly chooses which stories it broadcasts all over the world and which ones it doesn't.

Of course the French airliner that was lost over the ocean is tragic, but do you realize how many plane crashes happen all the time? And you know I would've had something ignorant to say about the new drug approved by the FDA to fight cancer — for dogs.

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'Absolute Randomness From Dick, Oprah, Dog Cancer and Plane Crashes'

Has it really been three years since my cousin and I were sitting in her kitchen wondering what business ideas to pursue? I didn't always believe back then, but Shanna has taken a simple idea and turned it into the source for all events and entertainment in Charlotte. And Greensboro. And Raleigh.

And now, she's bringing it to Chocolate City! Visit the site to become a member [which is FREE to do] and receive "The Guide," a weekly newsletter with all the events and happenings in the Chocolate City. Tell your friends so they can become members as well. And sign up for the mobile text alerts of any special events, special offers and whatever else is going on in the Chocolate City.

And if you're a model, aspire to be one or are sort of kind of a big deal, submit your photos to be considered for the Chocolate of the Month, which is modeled [excuse the pun] after the Carolina Cuties. Once you become a member, follow the links to find the instructions of how to submit your photos.

If you do events, own a venue with events, know people who do events or simply have something you want the people of DC to know, send an email to promotions@mingleberry.com.

As I prepare for my 35th birthday, my homeboy Carlton sends me this:



A doctor on his morning walk noticed an older lady sitting on her front step smoking a cigar, so he walked up to her and said, "I couldn't help but notice how happy you look! What is your secret?"

"I smoke ten cigars a day," she said. "Before I go to bed, I smoke a nice big joint. Apart from that I drink a whole bottle of Jack Daniels every week and eat only junk food. On weekends, I pop pills, get laid, and don't exercise at all."

"That is absolutely amazing! How old are you?"

"Thirty-four," she replied.

Hmmm...

I just received an email from my hosting company saying my email account has been sending an enormous amount of spam and shutting down their servers. Whatever it is that I've contracted, it's becoming more of a headache than reading about the Swine Flu in every newspaper, magazine and website. My mama even called me yesterday to remind me to wash my hands every time I shake one of your hands!

If you've received an email from me saying anything unusual, such as "Go Green — use both sides of toilet paper" or "I'm officially a Cowboys fan," please disregard the absolute idiocy of those statements.

DETOUR: So, until my hosting company and I figure out which @sshole hijacked my email regular email address, I can be reached at davidrussellgaines@gmail.com.

"There is always some specific moment when we become aware that our youth is gone; but, years after, we know it was much later."

      — Mignon McLaughlin


The other day [though it seems like every other day] I was asked when was I going to settle down. My response, as usual, was that I am settled down. Sure, I know what everyone means when they ask, but they're only asking because I'm about to turn 35.

"Isn't it time?"

I always found it quite insensate to "settle down" because it was time. Aren't relationships built around two individuals developing chemistry and not by the hands of a clock? Emotions aren't determined nor developed by how many days we've walked this planet. And there is no time limit to finding the one before they're all gone.

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'Are We Old Yet?'

I'm guilty. I've been doing it without protection, and now I'm paying for it. Back in 2005 when my protection expired, I simply didn't bother reinvesting in more protection. Who needs it, right? As long as you've been there before and had no issues in the past you should be straight. Right?

Well, this weekend wasn't a good one for me. I did venture off the beaten path, took a look around and got myself into something I shouldn't've. I wasn't properly protected nor was I even concerned about it, not even thinking about it when I so ignorantly and blindly did what I did. Sad thing is I can barely remember when and where it happened.

I won't be writing as often for the time being. I have some disinfecting to complete. Gotta figure out where this virus came from and hope that it's not fatal.

My advice to everyone: when it's time to renew your computer's virus protection software, instinctively pay up the money before you end up like me — sitting in front of an infected laptop frustrated because you just can't seem to figure out where you went wrong.

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'"I've been doing it without protection, and now I'm paying for it..."'

Ummm, I'm not even sure if there is any credibility to this, but just the thought of a Super Bowl being played in London is like having the Sumo Championships in Tehran...


This would be a bloody travesty. No offense Londoners, but any sport called football where 320 pound freaks of nature can get $100 million contracts should be kept in America.

I have nothing more to say.

Remember back in the day when we could tell how old the desks were in school by how much gum was stuck to the bottom? I've never been a big gum chewer, but after I got all the flavor out, I knew where to put it. I'm not sure when gum was banned in schools [maybe it wasn't allowed in the first place?], but there's a push for it to make a comeback.

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'Secret Weapon for Graduating School With Honors: Gum'

I'm not exactly sure who had the job of weighing everyone and taking their averages, but I found this site with the Top 10 Fattest Cities and they're not talking about the hot and tempting kind of fat. They mean the "get off your fat @ss and do some jumping jacks" kind of fat.

The kind of fat you get when eating at Waffle House too many times a week [oh how I miss the Waffle House!]. And to my surprise, as I was thinking who really cares about cities like Yuma, Arizona, and Scottsbluff, Nebraska — weighing in at number nine was my hometown, Fayetteville, North Carolina.

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'Do You Live in one of the Top 10 Fattest Cities in America?'

I used to have an aversion to those email and Facebook questionnaires, polls and surveys, but after reading so many other people's answers, I find them more interesting. Them as in the person writing his/her answer. The most recent one I read was Kareema's answers to "I Just Answered Another Round of Meaningless Questions." Did you know she drank V8? Does anyone else actually drink V8? And her pants inseam is 35 inches!? That's almost three feet of all legs!

The questionnaire looks pretty interesting. It's random and whoever came up with the questions obviously had too much time to think of these. So, why not? Here goes...

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'I Just Answered Another Round of Meaningless Questions'

There are times at work when I am facing critical decisions, ones in which there are no do-overs, and instead of deciding then, I'll literally sleep on it. Whether negotiating a salary with a client, on the fence about sending a candidate out to a client or even what I'm going to have for lunch [in those cases I nap on it], I'll decide not to decide [yet], get off of work, go to bed, sleep on it — and the next morning, the decision seems obvious.

I've always advised people on making logical decisions and not emotionally ones [depending on the decision of course], but I could never figure out what sleeping on it did to make the logical choices seem so obvious the next morning.

But, there's an article that sort of puts it all together:


Is that why when we get older we start to sleep less and coincidentally start suffering from memory loss?

Anyone who never had a bowl of Ramen noodles [also affectionately known as Oodles of Noodles] never went to college. It is the one common thread between every single college student whose parents didn't pay for everything. Ramen noodles cross over every barrier known to man — gender, race, religion, creed, age, IQ level, et cetera.

Tonight when I finally made it back to the pad and had no energy to whip up a three-course meal, I reached for a package of "Break Bag in Case of Emergency." Beef flavored. Ready in three minutes.

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'What's in That Little Bag of Hocus Pocus?'

Let me add a little something extra to the "Why Do We Men Handle The Breakup So Callously?" posting.

Often when talking to one of my homegirls who are in a bad relationship, she'll ask why can't a man give into a relationship as much as she does. A common example is how she would call when she's going to be out late with the girls but he never calls when he's going to stay out late with the fellas. Or she'll cook dinner and he won't clean up. And that's if he even says thank you.

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'Part II: Another Reason Why We Men Walk Away From Relationships With No Remorse'

"If there is anything that we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could better be changed in ourselves."

            — Carl Jung


When I was a itty bitty kiddie, I came up with this great idea for saving time. I might've been three, maybe four years old, but I knew time wasn't going to wait for anyone [and since I didn't have my robot yet to help me out...]. Wherever I could figure out a way to consolidate repetitious actions, I was on it.

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'Do You Remember What It Was Like Being a Kid?'

Me? Move to Virginia? Everyone who knows me knows better than to even assume I would even consider it! Virginia? Seriously?

Now, I have a ton of friends in VA. I mean, it is just across the river. Virginia, though, just isn't Washington, DC. And of course that's why a lot of my Virginian friends won't live in DC. I work, live and play in DC and like to [more like have to] be able to do everything I need to do without jumping on the highway, a parkway, a pike or a toll road.

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'Virginia is for Lovers [As Long As the Lights Are Off]'

President Barack Obama will be gracing the cover of yet another magazine next month. Only he won't be wearing a suit and tie. He'll practically be wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and shades.

Washingtonian Magazine's May 2009 issue is running an article of 26 Reasons to Love Living in DC; number two is "Our New Neighbor is Hot." I agree that our new neighbor is hot, but her name is Michelle!

[Note:  I'm going to resist suggesting they put her on the cover wearing nothing but shorts and a pair of shades.]

Of course the cover will be plastered in every grocery store aisle, the windows of every book store and available custom framed in souvenir shops. It'll probably be Washingtonian Magazine's hottest selling issue, only not for the other 25 reasons to live here. It's a bit of a shame they couldn't put the whole family on the cover and just say "Our New Neighbors Are Resurrecting America."



No one is disagreeing that he's not your average president, but it's not because he has pecs.

I commented on my friend Jen's Facebook status last week that Jack dies in 24. She asked people not spoil what was going on in Jack's world since she hadn't caught up with her TiVO'd episodes. She probably needs to make Wayne do more of the wedding planning. I have no idea if Jack dies or not. I don't watch 24. I rarely watch TV at all. All I knew is if he coincidentally dies in one of those episodes, I was next.

I asked my homeboy Eric the other day when the NBA playoffs started and he said the Hawks were already playing. Being a huge Prince fan, I was embarrassed that missed the Jay Leno show with Prince performing live [TGFYouTube]. And this weekend I'll be on the road so I'll be missing the NFL draft, not that I want to listen to Mel Kiper trying to sound relevant.

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'Who Needs Cable When TV is Free on Your Mobile Handset?'

If I didn't know so many [you know who you are], I know I wouldn't even think about posting this. But "three tons of beef filet, more than two tons of mashed potatoes, 1,800 gallons of pink lemonade and thousands of cupcakes" for dinner is a lot to ignore...

Lately I've been reading more tweets from those I'm followin, and I gotta say, it's pretty entertaining. Tami and Taru are pros. I'm trying to figure out where Shanna and the MingleBerry crew is at? Daz? You're my tech expert; where you at?

For you non-twits [Adisa!] I promise it's harmless. It's really just a huge list of absolutely random, ummm, stuff. It's like reading Facebook status updates just with all the other Facebook stuff. You read what you want, post nothing if you'd like and just, well, I'm not exactly sure what to do with it. If nothing else, just follow Oprah.

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'Trying to Catch Kutcher [And His ONE MILLION Followers!?] on Twitter'

After reading Kim Miles' posting about Men, Women, and the Ability to Move On, I started reflecting on some of the relationships that I walked out on. I don't consider myself one of the good ones; I know I am. And yet, I know I've emotionlessly moved on without looking back, regardless if it hurt or not.

Why?

One of the first things to cross my mind is how men and women see the breakup from two completely different perspectives. Men, well, we live in a world where we face a series of letdowns over and over. I'm a Redskins fan so for the past decade or so [has it really been since 1996 that we won our last Super Bowl?] I've had to put on my game face to stand tall in front my Giants and Patriots and even Cowboy fan friends. We men are extremely competitive and evolve into creatures who can take a loss with grace. We lose at Madden; we lose at not making more money than the next man; we lose at the clubs and bars when women seem to always have to go to the bathroom when we roll up.

In the process of all this losing, we almost get used to two simple facts. The first being that it is inevitable that you win some and you lose some. The second being that you will continue to lose if you don't put it out of your mind.

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'Why Do We Men Handle The Breakup So Callously?'

Years ago while at North Carolina A&T, I was still learning the hard way of how to handle my money. I'd bounce a check and wait for the call, then find the money to pay for whatever I bought, plus the NSF fee.

One day, in a selfish way, I asked a good friend of mine for some help. She loaned me $100, and I said I'd pay her back the next week. Well, funny how fast 7 days will pass you by when you're not working. Where in the world was I going to get $100? And she wasn't trying to wait. It was time to pay up, and she was on her way over.

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'From Tracking Down Her $100 to Making Forbes Magazine'

Let's pretend the economy isn't so bad after all. You have a little money coming in from your income tax return, you're enjoying job security and your savings is begging to be spent. So, you decide it's time to buy a new car.

You make a list of all the imperative features [leather seats, GPS, moon roof, built-in DVD player] as well as the basics [lots of MPG, plenty of horse power, enough airbags to save your life if you fell off a cliff]. Your start to develop an image in your head of exactly what you want. This list and image serves as the reference point when you start considering all the options out there.

Instead of going from one car lot to another being stalked by the sales staff pretending to be looking out for your best interest, you decide to post an online ad and select the best offer from those who respond. Should be easy enough, right?

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'Insight to Shopping for the Ideal Employee'

Way, way, way back in the day, back when Prince released his first album, I knew exactly what I wanted as a gift — no matter the occasion. Christmas, my birthday, Groundhog Day, even if I was getting married: I had a short list with no honorable mentions. I've never been an indecisive person, all the way back to when I couldn't even spell the word! My dream sheet had exactly two items on it. Just two.

See, when we were kids, we didn't know the meaning of diamond necklaces, stretch Lexuses, from the back...

Our imaginations weren't limited to price tags and Black Friday sales. We didn't care what anyone else wanted, nor did we care what anyone thought about what we wanted. Our ego was still growing, but not enough to be self-conscience of other people's opinions. At that age we barely knew anyone outside the family anyway.

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'What I Wanted For My Birthday'

As I bring up Twitter more often with more people, my realization that there are "only two types of people" in the world started to make more sense. And each of those "only two types of people" has multiple layers of multiple categories of "only two types of people." And on each layer [and category] there are "only two types of people" broken up into multiple categories [and layers] of "only two types of people." Millions of layers and categories!

But "only two types of people."

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'Twitter Helps Define The "Only Two Types Of People" in the World'

              — Samuel Ullman


It feels like it was just yesterday when I left my 20s. One day I grew up to become a teen, the next I was an adult, then I was old enough to buy alcohol, and in another month, I'll be halfway through my 30s. Yet, I feel as youthful as I did a decade ago, only now I know when to say when — but sometimes I forget to say it.

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'Preparing for "Three Decades and a Half" on This Planet'

On April 16, 1862, nine months before issuing the Emancipation Proclamation, Abraham Lincoln granted 3,100 enslaved people their freedom in Washington, DC. Former Mayor Anthony Williams signed legislation in 2005, making Emancipation Day an official public holiday in the District. The DC Government has made available a 20-page downloadable book which covers the history of ending slavery in the nation's capital.