I Saw The Sign

Today, January 13, 2011, was the day my world changed.  Or so I thought.  According to astrologers, due to changes in the Earth’s alignment, the dates of many zodiac signs have changed.  Under the new Zodiac calender, my sign changed from Virgo to Leo.

I panicked.  Everything I had come to know in my 27 years had been a lie.  I then googled my horoscope to see how the change would effect my life starting today.

Luckily, I found out that the new astrological calendar only applies to new births.  So a Virgo for life I will be.  But since this has put a scare into me, let’s compare horoscopes for both Virgo and Leo, the horoscope that could have been.

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Today’s horoscope for Leo:

A friend or family member might act strangely and seem distracted. You may wonder if he or she is upset with you. This probably isn’t the case. This person has issues that need attention. Allow them some space. A romantic partner might have to break a date tonight. Spend the evening alone with a novel and look forward to the next get-together.

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I’m grateful that the new calendar doesn’t effect me since today’s horoscope requires me to interact with family members and date, which are two things that I do rarely, if ever.  Also, I never read books, and I’m not sure if the horoscope would allow me to swap out reading a novel with browsing the February issue of Maxim that I read on the commode.

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Today’s horoscope for Virgo, my original sign:

Too much reading might have you experiencing eyestrain and possibly headaches, Virgo. It might help to have your eyes checked, but it’s probably just too much stress. You might have some trouble focusing on whatever work you do today, but this is only a temporary condition. You should be back to your normal self tomorrow. Stay home tonight, listen to music, and take it easy.

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So instead of dealing with whiny family members and broken social commitments as a Leo, I’m going to have stress, headaches, and trouble focusing.  At least I get to “take it easy,” which is the only thing I’m really good at.

These are both pretty depressing.  Maybe I’ll just start following Scorpio, for no reason other than I like the word Scorpio.


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Pan Pacific Park Jogging Girl in Iambic Pentameter

My cousin Drew Muldowney was kind enough to convert my poem to the girl I saw at the park into iambic pentameter for all to enjoy.

Though I think my original version was about as close to Shakespearean as one could get, Drew has upstaged me by converting it into the Bard’s language.

That’s, count ‘em, TWO poems for this girl.  If she doesn’t go out with me now, she’s more cold hearted than I could have imagined.

Check out Drew’s blog, Skunk Works, for more great writing.

My body wrecked and drenched in flab, I ran
On Autumn’s eve.  My legs they fought, my chest
Did burn, but still my face a smile’d span
Olive shining skin, at my soul’s behest!
Near spastic fool our glanced embrace did spark
My heart to thump, the colors of your frock
They danced; they jarred my sullen gray and dark
My thoughts meandered, dost thou think I rock?
The road it turned up towards the sky, too steep
For me to chase.  I sought your grace and beauty
Please bring no sharp retort. I’m not a creep
I chased to speak, to greet the fit cutie.
My Pan Pacific jogging girl I hope
You felt my smile, and not some other dope.

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Ode to the Pan Pacific Park Jogging Girl

I’ve written a poem about an encounter I had with a lovely lady tonight while jogging at Pan Pacific Park.  It’s also been posted on Craigslist Missed Connections.  If you’re out there, anonymous Pan Pacific Park Jogging Girl, hit me up.

Pan Pacific Park Jogging Girl
By: RPM

Out of shape, so on a lark
Went for a run at Pan Pacific Park
While trying to avoid splints in my shin
Noticed a beauty with olive skin

Passed a weird guy conducting symphonies
We smiled and exchanged pleasantries
I sported a t-shirt that was plain and gray
But yours was loud with designs for days

Was it first sight interest?
Or just being nice?
Was it quickly dismissed?
Did you even think twice?

The hill got steep
My legs got sore
Please don’t think I’m a creep
Cause you don’t look like a whore

Our paths crossed three times and not once more
Though I was really hoping for number four
Had to stop when I got a cramp
I’ll hold out hope that you’re not a tramp

If I saw you one more time
I’d ask you out for a glass of wine
You’re my Pan Pacific Park jogging girl
Come find me and let’s give it a whirl

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VIDEO: Bathroom Stall Phone Number

While driving through middle America with his friend Tony, finds a phone number written in a bathroom stall in Mississippi and curiosity gets the better of him. What will he find on the other end of the phone line? True love? Fleeting passion? A busy signal? One thing’s for sure: He’ll find someone to give him the head job that he believes is entitled to him.

This is accompanying video for the November 4th Blog that describes my experience in a Mississippi gas station bathroom.

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Going Gray

DRAMATIZATION: Muldo with dyed red hair. Don't confuse him with the receptionist from "The Bob Newhart Show."

A quick glance in the mirror last night confirmed what I had feared for months:  I’m going gray.  Sure, I had hairs that looked gray or white before, but I convinced myself that those follicles were bleached by the sun, since I used to get patches of blond hair every summer as a child.

This is different.  These are random gray hairs that are scattered all over my head.

I could panic, but I’m not really shocked.  My mom went gray when she was about 27 and covered it with dye.

A part of me considered taking the same action.  I always thought I’d look good as a red head, if not bare a slight resemblance to highly-esteemed character actor Marcia Wallace.  Alas, there is something to be said for aging gracefully.

Besides, it’s not noticeable without looking closely at individual follicles, and my light brown hair color should mask the light sprinkling of grays for at least five years.

Eventually, more and more gray hairs will sprout as father time takes its toll, but that won’t happen for another 10 years.  Solace can also be had in the fact that it will be at least 15 years before I get any significant ear hair, and another 30 or 40 before my ball sack starts sagging as if its a basset hound’s ears, like those old guys I see getting changed in the gym locker room.

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