T.I. put it very elegantly but I think he may have had something different in mind then what’s going on in my world right now.

I obtained a girls number (through surprisingly little trickery) on Saturday night and adhering to the two day rule, have waited until today to call her and invite her to join me in a meal.

During these two days, I always look at arbitrary events in my life as telltale signs of how the phone call is going to go.

If I get stuck trying to turn right at a red light behind a car going straight, the universe is telling me “Dude, don’t even call.”

If I successfully throw my Wendy’s wrapper into a trashcan across the room then there’s no way she’s not calling back.

You get the drift?

Two things happened in those two days that I’m not sure how to read. So since you’re the one reading this post, I figured I’d let you read the signs as well:

1. My friend’s car broke down (severe battery drain) after using it as a stereo for tailgating purposes before the UNC vs. ECU football game. He had to be at work in Charlotte today so I let him have my car for two weeks (when I next see him).

Yes, we tried jumping it. No, it didn’t work.

2. My phone echoes for whomever I’m talking to (I hear nothing). It horribly irritates everyone on the phone with me. Since I don’t hear an echo and like to hear the sound of my own voice anyway and can’t understand their complaint, it’s taken me 6 months to address the issue.

Because I was supposed to call this girl today however (and my mom yells at me to fix it every time I talk to her), I decided to suck it up and go to AT&T this afternoon and get it fixed.

Take a second here and analyze these two events. Seems to me like I should have some pretty good karma going into the call.

………………………….

Did you take a second?

………………………….

Really?

………………………….

Good.

AT&T gave me a new SIM card in hopes that it will fix the echoing problem. So I came home, inserted the new SIM card, and hooked up miPhone to my computer to activate it.

No, I didn’t lose all my contacts though I like where your head’s at. I had the same thought and copied down her number before syncing to avoid just that travesty.

Instead, I’m sitting here staring at an AT&T Account Information page demanding that I insert the last four digits of the social security number of the primary account holder.

I am not the primary account holder. My family is on a family plan. My mom is the primary account holder. I do not know her SSN.

In order to get that information, I need to call my mom and ask her.

I cannot do that because my phone has been re-set.

All of my roommates are gone so I can’t borrow one of their phones.

I cannot go anywhere to find a phone because my car is in Charlotte with my friend.

So I turn to you readers and ask you this…

Does the universe want me to call this girl?

…………………………………

I’m thinking the same thing.

I moved into my new house this week. And it’s amazing. I now have several things that I haven’t had since I lived with my parents (hi mom):

• A dishwasher
• My own bathroom
• A washer/dryer I can rely on
  • By that I mean my clothes won’t be lying on the dusty floor when I return, forcing me to re-wash them
• A closet with doors that work
• A private porch
• and a kitchen I’m allowed to cook in

Now you may be used to having most of these things. But to me, they’re a luxury.

Yep. Everything about the new house is perfect. Except one small thing…

I’m allergic to it.

What? you say.

Oh yeah… Allergic.

I’ve never been allergic to anything in my entire life. Not cats. Not dogs. Not even pollen.

But every time I step into the place where I am contractually bound to live for the next year, my nose starts running and I begin uncontrollably sneezing.

I know a bunch of you have moved into new homes this summer. If you’ve experienced a similar problem and have a solution, by all means let me know.

(picture thanks to Jacqui)

Every salesperson has their go-to lines.   The lines they think will seal the deal and get them that 3% commission.  But sometimes they use their go-to line on the wrong customer and have to quickly retreat, trying not to trip over the tail lagging clumsily between their legs.

And once in a blue moon, you get a salesperson that uses their go-to line on the wrong customer, never realizes their mistake and continues to beat their point into the missed mark.

I went shopping for a mattress the other day and happened upon the latter.

A few clarifying points:

1. I’m not picky about my mattress
2. I don’t have a ton of money
3. I’m not very good with girls

I walked into The Mattress Warehouse and was immediately greeted by a woman in her upper 20’s.  I explained clarifying points 1 and 2 to her and she began showing me the various options.

“These are your standard mattresses,” she said as I flopped backwards onto the first bed she pointed at.

Convinced, I got up and was ready to pay and get out of there.  Seeing my eagerness to leave, she decided to take a stab and up-sell me on one of their nicer options.

“Before you decide,” she added, “you should check out this bed over here.”

Reluctant but polite, I followed her to her prized possession.  And as soon as I lay my head on the pillow came the line…

Saleswoman: “What do you think?”
Alex: “It’s nice, but I think I’m going to stick with…”
Saleswoman: “Watch this!”

(The saleswoman jumps into bed with me)

Alex: “Watch what?”
Saleswoman: “Did you feel anything?”
Alex: “Not really?”
Saleswoman: “Isn’t that amazing? A lot of people don’t like when they can feel every move of the person in bed with them.”

(I begin to get up)

Alex: “Oh I’m not really concerned with anyone being in bed with me.”
Saleswoman: (insistently) “Oh I’m sure you’ve dealt with it some.”
Alex: “Not really…”
Saleswoman: “Well think of how much a girl would like spending time on this mattress…”
Alex: “I’m sure she’d love it.”
Saleswoman: “Exactly.”

(uncomfortable silence)

Saleswoman: “So what do you think?”
Alex: “I don’t think you’re following me. I don’t really need to worry about a girl’s comfort on this mattress.”
Saleswoman: “But she would be VERY comfortable.”
Alex: “No, I get that.”
Saleswoman: “So what do you think?”
Alex: “I think I’m just gonna stick with the first one…”

I made my way to the cashier with the saleswoman right behind me, repeating something about how she just didn’t believe I wasn’t concerned with my mattress’s co-inhabited comfort. I considered pulling out mIphone and showing her my last post to put an end to the issue but decided against it, not wanting to hurt her salesmanship confidence.

As I paid the man at the cash register, he said “Wow this is a great mattress, your girlfriend is really going to enjoy this!”

I retrieved my debit card, looked at the man. Then looked at the saleswoman, smiled to myself and replied…

“She sure is.”

(Image thanks to SWP Moblog)

Every blogging article stresses the importance of not apologizing for a blog post drought.  So I’m not apologizing… but I do want to talk a little bit about what I’ve been doing for the last few months, making the transition into the real world…

Sort of.

See, I graduated college (on time), got a job, and have been doing a little growing up.  But I say sort of because I still live in Chapel Hill, am still surrounded by college girls, and still stay out until past 2am.

I also say sort of because I have been making some changes in my lifestyle. Some say it’s about time. Some say it’s too late. I say I’m maturing. So without further ado, the top 10 ways that I’ve decided to grow up…

Number 10: I signed up for my own VIC Card.

No more of this “Do you have a VIC Card?” “No, but I have my mom’s phone number” business.  It was past time to take two minutes and get that little red triangular card to put on my keychain. Not to mention I felt bad that the Harris Teeter database still thought my mom drank Busch Lite.

Number 9: I purchase my own Propecia.

No longer can I guilt my mom into paying for my anti-balding medicine by pitching a fit when she tries to fast forward through the Hair Club for Men infomercial.

Number 8: I see AM daylight.

Cogito ergo sum: roughly translates to “I think, therefore I A.M.” I’m pretty sure Ol’ Descartes was talking about being at work before noon.

Number 7: I acquired a check book.

While your fraternity treasurer may let you pay your rent in cash, your landlord wants it in a check.

Number 6: The song ‘It’s five o clock somewhere‘ is finally starting to make sense.

Especially when Johny Kemp is singing his end-of-week symphony.

Number 5: Cream and sugar are things of the past.

There comes a point in every man’s life when he begins drinking his coffee black. For me, it was when including cream and sugar meant purchasing cream and sugar.

Number 4: Eating lunch is a treat.

Lunch in college was a social opportunity with my best friends and maybe even a girl (haha, just kidding). Lunch out of college is a relief from the 3+ hours of work you’ve already done.

Number 3: I now plan my day around getting to the bank.

The bank is open from 9-5. I work from 9-6. You figure it out.

Number 2: I’m finally moving out of my fraternity.

Goodbye peeing outdoors. Hello nice toilet paper.

Number 1: I work 9-5 Monday-Friday sitting in front of a computer screen.

Remember when you went to college and talked about how you wouldn’t end up in a cubicle? Don’t worry, you will.

I hope to return to posting at least weekly. I know you didn’t miss reading, but I missed writing.

(picture thanks to schase10353)

I believe a few things about athleticism.

1. Everyone thinks that he is more athletic than he actually is.

2. Once you get into college, your athleticism begins to decline.

In an effort to justify doing #1 since #2 is becoming more prevalent, I’ve begun finding new ways to identify myself as an athlete.

How you ask?

By not limiting ‘athleticism’ to only traditional sports and expanding its definition to anything that could remotely be considered a competition.

I’ll give you a quick example of someone else’s atypical athleticism before I go back to talking about my own natural superior skill-set.

I was in Wilmington this weekend for a friend’s wedding and Sunday afternoon, a bunch of friends and I got together to watch the Elite Eight games and Tiger Woods in the Arnold Palmer Invitational.

One friend in particular (Byrum) was in charge of manning the remote.  He successfully executed two straight hours of perfect channel changing.  We never had to watch a single commercial, never missed an important play, and never felt like we were watching something that was unentertaining.

It was one of the most amazing athletic achievements that I’ve ever witnessed.

I am not an athletic remote control-er.  But there are a few fields in which I’m incredibly athletic (see #1 above).

Here’s a list of my top 10 athletic skill-set:

1. Calling Shotgun

2. Sleeping on airplanes

3. Gmail Keyboard Shortcuts

4. Obscure Star Wars References

5. Facebook Pokes

6. Playing with Yoshi in N64 games

7. Eating Sunflower Seeds

8. Calling ‘Fives’

9. Snoozing alarms

10. Avoiding cracks on the sidewalk

What kinds of things do y’all do that are athletic by my new terms of the word?

(picture thanks to luiszarco)

So why should speaking be any different?

Introducing: Contrary-dundancy.

Contrary-dundancy [kahn-trayr-ee-dun-dance-ee]
noun (pl. -cies)

Inspired by French contractions and Jeopardy’s Before and After category, it is a new way of speaking where one eliminates repeating the same sound twice in row when pronouncing words. It is both contrary to what is taught in school and also very efficient.

Examples:
1. The phrase “my iPod” is pronounced “myPod”

2. A UNC basketball fan who is (understandably) upset by Deon Thompson’s defense might yell, “Play D, Deon!” when he should have said, “Play D-on!”

3. A female told blogger Alex Pomer that she “didn’t want to go on a Valentine’s Day date” with him. She should have said, “I don’t want to go on a Valentine’s Dayte” with you.

4. Loyal readers of Alex Pomer’s blog should pronounce their names as indicated:
- Rob Broadhurst = Raw Broadhurst
- Weird Doyle = Weird Oil
- Sarah Rutledge = SaRutledge

End definition.

Whether or not you decide to embrace this amendment to appropriate speech, listen for contrary-dundancies.

You’ll find that most people aren’t as to-the-point as they think they are.

When you live with 40 guys all year, you forget how girls live…

…especially how they get ready to go out.

I love road trips and I’m going to miss the impulsive five-hour drives next year even though about 30 minutes into the trip, I realized that I’d remembered to pack a book for pleasure reading (which I haven’t opened), but I’d forgotten other essentials like socks, a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, a towel, shampoo, and my Propecia.

When we arrived at Kelsey’s (after driving through bumper to bumper traffic most of the way as a result of four separate accidents), as is the norm, I desperately needed to shower.

After explaining to Kelsey my ‘essentials-less’ problem (though possibly forgetting to mention the last item, which had nothing to do with the fact that several of her more-than-cute roommates were well within earshot), she reassured me that she had plenty of soap that I could use.

Allow me to clarify something, when I’m at home, I use Old Spice’s Hair and Body Wash (it should also be known that I identify most with the first gentleman in their commercial). It’s quick, easy and gets the whole showering job done with one simple cleanser.

So when I got in Kelsey’s shower, I was a little overwhelmed when I found no less than eleven different bottles/jars/tubs of soap-like products, none of which resembled a bar of soap.

My first impulse was one of panic. I thought, don’t touch any of it, just rinse off and get the hell out of there. But after calming down and fumbling through five products I didn’t know what to do with (What is Curl Sculpting Cream Gel?), I finally found the body wash (cleverly disguised as Olay Body).

Once I’d finished Olaying my body, I decided to gamble and experiment a little.

Foregoing a hotel-style shampoo bottle, I decided to try out Catwalk’s Sexed-Up Body Building Shampoo. And let me tell you, any reservations I had about leaving my comfort zone and testing some new products were washed away with the filth that was on my body before my showering adventure.

I’d figured ’sexed-up’ and ‘body building’ was just advertising puffery but I promise, that stuff is legit. I was immediately immersed in the scent of a prom queen and my biceps grew at least two inches (a 150% increase).

After my eye-opening shampoo experience, I ventured toward Garnier Fructis’ Sleek and Shine, which is a conditioner for “Frizzy, Dry and Unmanageable Hair.”

While I don’t have much hair to work with and what little I do have is neither frizzy nor unmanageable, it is dry. Or should I say was dry…

…until Sleek and Shine.

Once I’d finished conditioning my hair, I was too overwhelmed with my newfangled cleanliness to do anymore experimenting and I decided to dry off. I left the shower, threw on some khakis and a collared shirt and walked into the common room with my head held high.

Kelsey asked how the shower was and I replied with an understating, “revolutionary.”

We went to bars later that night and as I navigated through crowds of UGA students, I swear I heard girls whispering to each other, “Wow, that guy smells really confident” and “I’ll bet the volume of his hair speaks to the volume of his character.”

And maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but sometimes being exposed to something new can lead to a change that leaves you feeling better about yourself and more prepared for the challenges that the future holds.

I know one thing, when I get back to Chapel Hill, the first thing I’m going to do is pick up some sexed-up, bodybuilding shampoo…

…and maybe you should too.

It’s important when arguing for or against something that you get your points across. Not half the point, the whole point.

Let me start this post with some clarifications.

Clarification #1:
My vision of a fraternity or sorority cocktail is as follows:
A group of dates dress up, go to a nice restaurant for a classy meal and then head to a central location where they meet up with the other members of said (fratern/soror)ity and dates for an evening of socializing.

As a fraternity member, when hosting a cocktail, I do my best to ensure that my vision comes to fruition. And barring a few exceptions, it usually does.

Clarification #2:
I am a supporter of gender equality.

I believe in equal pay for men and women, I’m a supporter of women being the major breadwinner of her family (even openly suggesting a future profession of ‘house-husband’ for myself), and I believe that women should hold the door for men just as men should for women.

Clarification #3:
Because of Clarifications 1 and 2, I often argue that when attending a fraternity cocktail, the man should pay for the nice dinner and when attending a sorority cocktail, the woman should do the same.

UPDATE: Particularly in this economy.

Clarification #4:
I’ve been to 20-25 sorority cocktails in my college career and at all but one of them, the dinner prior to the evening of socializing has been ordering in pizza and drinking cheap beer.

Clarification #5:
A nice dinner and drinks for two usually costs around $60. Pizza and beer costs around $15.

I’m fine with pizza and beer every once in a while, but it’d be nice if occasionally, the woman decided to treat the man to the same quality meal that she’d expect at a fraternity cocktail.

End clarifications.

And now for two quick tales…

Last Friday was a big night for sorority cocktails. At least 20 of my friends attended one but for the sake of this blog post, I’m only going to talk about two of their experiences (and my own of course).

Let’s start with me first (since I’m incredibly selfish and this is my blog after all).

Early last week, I got a phone call from a girl who I was to be eating with before the cocktail (not my date).

It went a little something like this…

Non-date Girl: “Hey, you’re going to dinner with us on Friday.”
Me: “Cool, where are we going?”
Non-date Girl: “I thought we’d just pick up some pizza and eat at X’s house. It’ll be nice and relaxing.”
Me: (You’ve got to be kidding me) “Sounds great, I’ll see you there.”

Now my two friends…

(Note: I’ve lectured both of their girlfriends on the discrepancy in arguing for both equal pay for women and also insisting on pizza and beer.)

Because of the Note above, I was thrilled (and a bit jealous) when I heard that the girlfriends had decided to join three other couples and go to a nice restaurant before the cocktail.

When my two friends (who share my pizza/beer sentiment) got to the restaurant, they decided to treat their girlfriends to a nice drink as an unspoken thanks for the upcoming meal.

After their meal however, when the check arrived, both of my friends’ girlfriends had conveniently forgotten their wallets.

End tales.

I was astounded when I heard the stories from my friends the next morning. I didn’t know what to do. Obviously, my (what I thought was flawless) argument against pizza and beer wasn’t getting the point across.

And when something isn’t working, I believe in changing your approach…

A great man once said, actions speak louder than words.

So for our cocktail tomorrow night, for the sake of women’s equality, I’ll be hosting the first ever Pizza and Beer Pre-Fraternity Cocktail Dinner.

Anyone in the fraternity is invited and encouraged to come. The more people in attendance, the more we can maximize cost efficiency.

Email me (pomer@email.unc.edu) if you’re interested. When I get a tally of how many people are planning to come, I’ll order the pizza and you can all chip in (you’ll be on your own for beer though since I don’t want to worry about underage drinking, which I do not condone).

Payback will be oh so sweet and oh so cheap…

I posted a few days ago about going against the crowd instead of following it and how that can be useful. I’d like to touch on that a bit more.

At one point or another, we all have to use the public restroom…

…and most of us don’t look forward to it.

You’re out of your comfort zone. Instead of reading your favorite magazine, you find yourself staring at etchings of Jon was here and below that, maybe an ignorant Jon is gay.

At home, you know (or have an idea of) who was there before you. In a public restroom, it’s a crapshoot (pun intended).

There’s only one good thing about public restrooms…

The handicapped stall.

I mean, what is bad about the handicapped stall? It’s exclusive, roomier, there always seems to be a fresh roll of toilet paper and sometimes, the seat is even higher, which makes you feel like a king.

Everyone loves it…

And that’s why I never use it.

I hate the handicapped stall. It’s everything bad about public restrooms multiplied.

Think about it. When you go to the bathroom, do you want to use the stall that everyone else and their mom has used or do you want to use the one that has been left vacant all day as if it’s been saved just for you?

Yeah, I thought so.

I want a cleaner and less ignorant public restroom experience…

…and you simply aren’t going to get that in the handicapped stall.

Yogi Berra once said about a restaurant, “Nobody eats there anymore because it’s too crowded.”

Well for me (and I hope you), the handicapped stall has gotten too crowded.

How many of you go to the bar in hopes that every girl (guy) you meet forgets your interaction by the next day?

Is your hand raised?

I didn’t think so.

I’m tired of going to the bar and having the same conversation over and over again.

At the beginning of the year, it’s “what classes are you in?” or “how was your summer?” Last week it was “what are you going to be for Halloween?” and last night it was “who did you vote for?”

If nothing big is going on then you can always count on “(insert dialogue about alcohol here).”

Stop.

Please.

We’re all unique in our own way. So instead of talking about how much you drank, talk about what makes you who you are. Or better yet, talk about what makes her who she is.

If you can’t think of anything interesting, then do something worth talking about.

I slept in a bush in front of my home for eight weeks. Yeah, it sucked when it was too hot or too cold, but it made one hell of a conversation.

And I’m not saying you need to go live in a bush…

…but maybe you do.

Advertisers call this concept ‘clutter’. When there’s too much of the same crap marketing everywhere, it all gets tuned out.

And when you’re at a bar and you meet someone, aren’t you really just trying to sell yourself.

So stop adding to the clutter.

I don’t know about you, but I’ll always take different or surprising over forgettable.

Even when different means a little weird.