The nose of a 10-year-old

Here we go again. This time Iโ€™m at work. Two days ago it was on the airplane from New York. Last week it was in the shower. I have the body of a Greek god and the nose of a 10-year-old. Yes, I get bloody noses. Add that to my nerd resume.

Ironically I never got bloody noses when I was a little dude. I even BROKE MY NOSE when I was 10 years old and IT DIDNโ€™T BLEED when I broke it. I started having random bloody nose episodes in college and have since had them occasionally throughout my 20s.

Iโ€™ve noticed two major trends contributing to my nose leaks. First, the time of the year. This late winter season is the worst because the air is so dry. I am seriously thinking about investing in a humidifier for the bedroom so that my nose can get some moisture at night. Second, my stress level. I was stressed as shit this last week with work and wedding preparations and that probably pushed my blood pressure up. On the day that I proposed to Amanda I had a terrible bloody nose before we left. Not my most suave moment, I know.

While Iโ€™m not a striking image of my Dad, I seemed to have inherited his nose because he grew up with bloody noses and actually had his nose cauterized. Iโ€™m reaching a point where I probably need the same procedure. (Iโ€™d also like to thank Dad at this time for the loose shoulders. Canโ€™t wait to get mine stapled down!) I always bleed out of my left nostril and I just want the damn thing replaced at this point.

Bloody noses used to freak me out because I have a weak stomach, but now Iโ€™m somewhat used to them. What annoys me is that lingering taste of pennies. Oh, and you know what else I donโ€™t like? That tampons are the best way to stop bloody noses. It makes sense and all, but I really hate walking past a mirror and seeing a tampon up my nose.

I want to stop at the mirror and say, โ€œIโ€™m good enough, Iโ€™m smart enough, and gosh darnit, I have a tampon up my nose.โ€

This was not what I pictured adulthood being like.

Death of the 32x32

Iโ€™ve been traveling for work โ€“ Minneapolis last week, New York this week. Unfortunately, those to the East like to dress up and believe that button-up shirts and slacks make you think smarter. Obviously, I donโ€™t appear so legit in these foreign lands with my Casual Industrees hoodies and Levi 501s, so I have to step my game up.

I had recalled from an earlier trip this year that my trusty size 32x32 slacks from college were feeling a bit snug around my waist. I guess thatโ€™s what happens when you develop amazing abdominal muscles from intense crunches with weights at the gym. It could also be attributed to the fact that I weigh five pounds more than I did when I graduated from college back in 2005. Like I said, crunches with weights.

I did what any guy would do in this situation, I sent Amanda out with my debit card to buy me some 34x32 pants at TJ Maxx. ย She bought four pairs of pants and I kept three (Great job, Amanda!) so I was totally prepared for my stint of trips without having to endure the shame of buying lager size pants.

Could you imagine what the cashier at TJ Maxx would have said if she saw that I had jumped a size? I dread to think it.

As I sit here eating a New York bagel piled high with sun-dried tomato cream cheese, I still canโ€™t believe that I need the extra real estate in the waist. I bought my 501 jeans size 34x34 but they are shink-to-fit, so that didnโ€™t phase me. I bought my wedding suit pants in 34x32, but it is a slim fit suit. Heck, even Wesley jumped up to a 32-inch waist for that suit.

I guess I need to let go of the past, embrace my new size 34x32 and let my ripped abs enjoy the luxury of a little more freedom.

Phones are the new cigarettes

Gramps tells me stories about working at Boeing back in the Mad Men days -- smoking at every meeting, discoloring walls and tables, and taking smoke breaks every hour. Today I go to meetings where everyone is heads down staring at their phones, and they take breaks to spend more time on their phones. Both habits are odd and totally acceptable in their time.

I am as guilty as anyone when it comes to checking my phone for email, texts and social media updates.ย It's a nearly constant habit during the day, but when I'm home I try to lose my phone until the morning. I'd much rather enjoy my home than the email burden after-hours.

I got Amanda into a similar habit by accident. Ever since she got that damn iPhone she checks email, Twitter and mostly Facebook like they were lifelines. For example, my alarm usually goes off first in the morning and Amanda rolls over to grab her iPhone and check Facebook. It's become aย Pavlovian response.

Phones physically resemble cigarettes. Think about it. Amanda's got this white case for her iPhone. The phone itself is round, thin and shiny. She looks cool when she uses it. All of the hip advertisements and commercials feature people using similar phones. The phones are marketed with the same messages, like "With an app, the phones can help you lose weight." All that's missing is Joe Camel.

You know how you don't realize you have a problem until you see someone else has it? That feeling hit me like a phone bill recently. I suppose smokers can relate. I know a lot of smokers who quit because they didn't like how smokers smelled or what their teeth looked like. All of a sudden I'm noticing that I don't like how hooked Amanda is to her phone and I don't like the way I am either. And I'm worse. It's time for us to wear a patch or start chewing that funny-tasting gum that you only get when you're at a bar.

For more on our connected-disconnected culture, check out this video featuring one of Amanda's new favorite, local musicians, Macklemore.