Guyet

No, Guyet is not a small country in Africa that borders Zimbabwe, although it could be. Guyet is a term I created that refers to the attempts of a straight man to watch what he's eating. Guy+Diet=Guyet.

Let's face it, the average man enjoys pizza, red meat, beer, wings and other fried goods and probably consumes a good amount of one, if not all of these things. I fit the "love all of those things" category, and have a naturally massive build to begin with, so I'm faced with that question again: Should I go on a Guyet?

Then there's my insatiable appetite for ikeem. I just have a hankering for it after every meal, what can I say? I'll tell you what I can't say: "Boy I'd love some ice cream, but I'm counting my calories, so I better not." I would never stoop to that level, but I know in the back of my head that stuff like ikeem and D&D is killing any chance of me having Brad Pitt's physique in fight club. Speaking of getting beat up...

Why don't I exercise you're wondering? I do exercise, and am generally in really good shape despite my horrendous eating habits. The problem is that my body in recent months has been more injury prone than Tracy McGrady and Yao Ming combined. Got a bad ankle, a bad back, and a bad hand among other things, which makes it really difficult to achieve the adequate intensity of workout I go for. Not to mention my job currently is impeding my rehab big time since I pretty much work in a war zone.

All things considered, I think I will enjoy life and stay in moderately decent shape until further notice, but that time is coming. You don't stay young forever friend, and even those blessed with the most divine of metabolisms will feel the effects of an unhealthy lifestyle eventually.

On a side note, I'd like to say thanks to Eagles Defensive Coordinator Jim Johnson for all the blitzes and schemes that led to memorable plays and games. I may have never known much about him as a person, but I can certainly display my gratitude for being the brain behind some of the most fun Eagles games, and defenses, I've ever watched.

http://www.philadelphiaeagles.com/multimedia/index.asp?mm_file_id=7375&play_clip=Y

Shotgun, Straight to My Head

Tonight was one of many family dinner nights in the Lewis household. The menu for Tuesday you ask? Pasta, meatballs, salad and just the right amount of awkward conversation. Enter Ted Lewis: The man, the myth, the birdwatcher.

Two things my Dad hates and has been on recent crusades against are "partying" and The Metro (Philly's free pamphlet-sized newspaper). Conveniently, he found an article in the Metro about the school which was recently named the #1 party school in the country (by poll-taking party animals everywhere I suppose). The school is currently educating his daughter, who tonight sat directly across from him. As he passed me what must have been a crowning piece of evidence in his quest to prove the Metro is filth, he asked me one question. It was so incredibly arbitrary it caught me off guard.

"Do you know what a shotgun is?" he inquired, eyes aglow like an eager fisherman seeing a group of trout nearing his baited hook.

( Here's how Urban Dictionary defines shotgunning for those who are in the dark on this one:

1. Shot Gunning

The Canadian way to drink a beer. Always more than not its the cheapest beer that month, say Pilsner or Papst. Usually the first couple of the night are consumed this way.

Step one grab a set of keys, usually the keys for the car you drove to the parking lot party.

step two stab a hole in the bottom half of the can.

Step three twist around the keys till u have a good size hole (bigger is not better)

step four put hole to mouth, tilt head back open the can.

Step five open your throat till the beers done

step six through the can down like u mean it)


Faced with my Father's question I had 2 choices:
The first was to avoid the truth completely and say that I didn't know what this heinous publication was referring to. The second was to say yes and completely move on with the conversation, hoping he would be distracted from his heathen son's experiences in the "party" culture. I decided to take a piss in the wind, choosing the latter option, and was somehow successfully able to fluidly transition the convo away from shotgunning.

While I may have avoided my parental unit's disdainful glances and gestures, I set him off on a rant (AGAIN!!!) about how disgusting it is that the liberal media is vomiting all over people's ability to formulate an opinion on their own (TRUE) and how the Metro should be totally discontinued because of its content (FALSE). It's great for people to have a free newspaper to read. It's better that people are reading something than "playing with all their new electronic devices/gadgets" as my Pops would say. But that's another Ted rant for another Ted time.

I figured I would share this tidbit and break my near 1-month drought from what used to be a frequently visited blog. Yes, I have been very busy this summer. And, yes, I have abandoned writing in part because of my new obsession that monopolizes all my hours on computers: The Office. More to come on this soon. Maybe....who knows

There is no "I" in Team, but there is one in Cliché

Yesterday was the first day of my summer job. For those of you who don't know, I work at a Camp for kids with special needs in Broomall. And make no mistake about it, I love my work. It's rewarding in many different ways, and I legitimately enjoy getting up on weekday mornings in July and August because of this. Like any job, however, it has it's annoying points. One such point was yesterday, where "Melting Pot Day" (AKA Awkward Orientation Day) consumed both my time and my cliché quota.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the concept of chemistry on a job site. It makes the work easier, and ultimately, the day shorter, because there's a flow that it wouldn't have if everyone hated each other. But yesterday was the embodiment of the opposite extreme, where the big wigs think a day of ice-breakers and team unity meetings will ultimately result in coworker chemistry. This, as you can imagine, is false.

I could go into all the juicy details of what made this day painfully slow and uncomfortable but I will just recount one 45 minute seminar on being excellent "head counselors". The leader of this talk was one of the camp directors who is well loved by Easter Seals because he is a by-the-book, team player (vomiting in my mouth) who runs his camp in a way that gets the financiers of the operation to open their wallets wide. While I admire his work and dedication to the job, I am not certain that he is a real person. For 45 minutes this guy rattled off overused quotes, unrelated quotes (to the subject matter), nonsensical quotes (sounded like someone was attempting to be profound and failing miserably) and team clichés. He harped on one quote more than others, one that he undoubtedly made up.(NOTE: I would write the quote but I intentionally blocked it from my memory) He had us go around in the circle and say what the quote meant to us individually and how it related to best carrying out our jobs. My turn hit, and I couldn't help but be brutally honest. "I really think this quote was taken from a Hallmark Card in the "Encouragement" section and has nothing to do at all with what we're talking about, but I think a good leader...." Needless to say, my ideas weren't his favorite. Teacher's Pet Award went to the girl to the right of me, who chimed in by relating the quote to a genius acronym. When she heard the quote, she thought of TEAM: TOGETHER EVERYONE ACHIEVES MORE. Almost to the point of awe-inspired tears, he brought up the "There is no 'I' in TEAM" garbage and continued to give more gems for the duration of the meeting.

At one point he said with an underlying tone of care (and idiocy), "Listen guys. We all have days where we wake up on the wrong side of the bed...figuratively speaking."

Oooooh, thanks for clarifying, because I was under the impression that you meant the literal wrong side of the bed. Listen, I'm sure his intentions were great, but he spoke in a way that was incredibly pretentious, and he wasn't exactly imparting any groud-breaking knowledge on anyone.
(SIDE NOTE: I love the word "pretentious" Truth be told, I think I'm a pretentious you-know-what sometimes....still, it's one of my favorite words)

I'm glad that the worst day of the Summer Camp has passed and I'm sure that I will incorporate information gleaned into being a more well-rounded group member in my place of employment. GO TEAM!!!