Guacamolification: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Avacado as a Symbol for My Life

The other day I was sitting around for 30 minutes of silence because unlike war dodging "war presidents", "take a stand" follower politicians, and gay or child molesting "family values" conservatives, I try to practice what I preach. I'm not always successful, but I try. Anyway, I was sitting there contemplating the great mysteries of life, among them whether or not my avocados were ready to become guacamole, when I realized I was confronted by one of life's most frustrating mysteries: How can you really tell if an avocado is ready? It needs to be soft but firm, but that balance is much harder to find in an avocado than a tomato or a mango. I swear sometimes I'll know the avocado is rotten but it's actually great, and other times i doubt it's even ready and it's rotten to the core. Sometimes, I think the ripe period for an avocado is measured in hours, other times they sit ripe for days. Then it hit me, the realization, the light shining, the birds chirping, the fire crackling: the avocado is a symbol for life. It is a symbol for women, for sports, for work, for work life balance, for women work life balance, for women sports work life balance, and for this blog. Don't believe me about the blog, just check the title my friend. Like I said, I try to play it straight.

Anyway, ever feel like you can't tell a good woman (or man) when sticking your toe into the lukewarm lap pools of modern dating (Editors note: the narrator originally wrote frozen scum covered ponds of modern dating, but he's trying to be shed his image as a cynic and be more positive given that it's so close to valentines day. Speaking of which, you know valentine's day marks the day the patron saint, Saint Valentine, was beheaded. As the old proverb says, "Nothing celebrates a beheading like chocolates, roses, and sex." I think that's originally from The Iliad, but I can't be sure, it certainly sounds more Homer than Shakespeare somehow. End note). That confusion, that uncertainty, is what I feel contemplating my avocado pile. Which ones are ready? Is she the one for me? If I cut this avocado, will I wish I had cut a different one? If I love her, will I wish I had loved another? This one feels sweet on the outside, but it actually has a moldy core. She seems sweet on the outside..How can you tell? Now put in job or any major life decision for women, and you see the pattern. Life is full of mysteries my friend. Women, blogs, avocados. They seem so different, yet they are so similar.

Since I don't do many life updates here, here is how my day went. I woke up at 4:30 AM to catch a 6:30 flight that left the gate 15 minutes late, sat on the tarmac, an announcement came on we were 15th and would wait another 1/2 hour, then another announcement that the Philly air traffic system was down (another 20 minutes), then the line starting moving. We arrived in Pittsburgh 2 hours late. I got my crappy enterprise rental car. This is the 2nd straight enterprise car where the drive seat can't tilt and it's stuck in a gangster lean as I drove down the expressway to West Virginia. About 2 miles from West Virginia, I was passing a truck, hit an ice patch, did a 360 and ended up in a ditch. 1 guy stopped to see if I was ok, I hope he had chocolate and sex for valentines day, screw everyone who just drove past me. (trying to be positive and less cynical... ahh screw it). In time, I managed to drive out, get to my client, do training for 6 hours, get 2 beers and a crappy sandwich. Now I'm watching the Daily Show and ready to go to bed. That's why I don't blog about my life, nothing happens.

In an effort of full disclosure, it is mildly possible I actually wrote this blog while listening to the song Californication and watching Dr. Strangelove over and over. I'm saying it's just possible. We are what we pretend to be... Actually, I just wanted to use the word guacamolification because it popped in my head and I liked it. I realized the other day when talking to a friend who is getting married that I also like the word nuptials, as in have you and your girlfriend nuptialized yet? My friend commented, and this was funny, "Yeah, it's a good word unless it's about you." True enough. Anyway, I made it a spanish world too - nuptializar, meaning to nuptialize. I'm bringing them both into the vocabulary.

Stop reading this blog, you only 364 days to shop for valentines 2008! Motto for a throwback valentines: "You should behead-ing out to buy me some chocolate." Think about it...