"it's like, if you're nice to them, they'll give you stuff?"

yay for christmas and getting free stuff, and by "free" i mean in return for stuff you gave them. yay for awesome christmas dinners full of your favorite barnyard animal flesh, starches, and jellied fruit concoctions. yay for getting an opportunity to just sit and watch college football. and yay for the hawaii/houston game actually being pretty close going into the fourth quarter.

my plane was scheduled to leave at 6am this morning. I started packing at midnight, caught a cab, and was at the airport by 1:30. i'm not one to worry about long check-in lines or overstrict security baggate checks. i just didnt feel like sleeping for two hours and then waking up and having to get the the airport. actually, i knew that if i went to sleep, i'd probably wake up at 9 and have completely missed my flight.

so i sat in the airport and watched dvds on my cool portable dvd player i got for graduation. Dude, Where's My Car? and Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure were the features of the morning. oh yeah, in my list of yays up at the top of this thing, i forgot one: yay for emergency exit row aisle seats with the extra leg room because i'm tall. i was even smart enough to get the one in the farther back of the two exit rows. i learned the hard way one time that the first row's seats don't recline back as they would block the exit path in an emergency.

man, this flight was packed. and everyone had what seemed like thirty bags (or the allowed 2), whatever...they were so big, they seemed like thirty bags. and old men and little kids and guys that go to sleep and keep leaning closer and closer to you until their head falls on your shoulder and you kinda shrug to get them to wake up and move their head but pretend that you were just getting comfortable and that you weren't the reason they woke up in the first place.

and so an hour back in the city, and i was instantly thrown into the christmas spirit: gift exchanging and lots of smiles and thank you's (even if you don't mean it, it's the nice thing to do) and then the huge mess that no one wants to clean up.

so now as i sit and examine my new bounty, i suddenly realize i don't have a way to take most of my stuff back to LA. damn.
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 8:53 PM (0) comments

 

i couldn't be more not suprised. in fact, i could die from so much not surprise.

so i coasted through the meeting with the CHEESE this morning. piece of cake. he even said i am a quick learner and he's glad i'm working here. it could just be a christmas eve-induced sentiment, but who's to say?

and my review? apparently i'm satisfactory and very good...depends on which category you look at. it kinda bothers me that i satisfy requirements. to me, that just means that i meet the minimum standards to get things done, and while i was ok with that in college, it kinda bugs me now. so i wasn't told i suck at my job on christmas eve, but i also didnt receive the pantloads of cash as a bonus an a raise and a company car and my own office that looks out over the water as i had hoped. apparently that stuff comes in March after all the last toy fair of the season in New York.


- posted by yeah...about that... @ 11:32 AM (0) comments

 

you make me wanna uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Q. ya know what's worse than having to work on christmas eve?
A. having to be in a meeting with the Chief Merchandising Officer of your multinational company at 730 in the morning.

and i also have a performance review with my supervising Vice President before i leave today. nothing like being told how bad you suck at your job on christmas eve. then again, there's nothing like being given pantloads of cash as a bonus and a raise and a company car and my own office that looks out over the water. (hey, i said there's nothing like it...gimme a break)


- posted by yeah...about that... @ 9:18 AM (0) comments

 

....and then some

something else about last night i forgot to mention:

shirts you wear that you bought when you went to visit your girlfriend-at-the-time in upstate New York last christmas i bought a Pontillo's Pizzeria shirt from Canandigua, NY while picking up an order at said establishment. while i was gettin' my head nod on to the first band, some security guy taps me on the shoulder. he says he saw me from way in the back. turns out his first job ever was at that same Pontillo's Pizzeria. and he had that crazy upstate new york accent so i knew he wasn't lying. i of course proceeded to lie and tell all kinds of total untruths about how i used to live there recalling anything i could remember from having visited and the billions of stories i heard about home from my ex. i'm amazed he believed that we "went to the same school and lived about five minutes from each other." then again, when he turned to walk away, he just as easily could have rolled his eyes and called me a lying shit. ya never know
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 2:30 PM (0) comments

 

lie to me and tell me everything will be alright

yeah, so the concert was most amazingly excellent last night. the House of Blues on Sunset has to be one of the greatest small venue concert, um, venues ever. but they're not hiring so don't ask (i did). there was one thing i kinda noticed. actually, there were a couple things i kinda noticed. and they are as follows in no particular order aside from that which i remember them:

bathroom attendants maybe it's just me, but i feel a little uncomfortable peeing with some old guy on a stool staring at me. it's like no matter how hard i try, i keep turning my back and squeezing as close to the urinal as possible so this old dude can't get a peek at my junk. it's like michael jackson's dream job. he gets to watch you pee, gives you a towel when you wash your hands, talks to you the whole time like he's some uncle you see all the time, and then you're supposed to give the guy a tip? honestly....thanks man, but i can probably pull a paper towel out of the dispenser faster than i can avoid any long drawn out conversations with you.

the shot girls every bar has them. any good bar does anyway. and they're usually amazingly hot. or it's just LA. i haven't decided yet. but there's always that one who's not quite up to par with the rest of the shot girls. you know who i'm talking about. she's the affirmative action for ugly girls. she's the one the bar hires so they don't get sued for only hiring cookie cutter blondes with larger than necessary chests-eses and tighter than necessary clothes-eses. anyway, the concert tonight was sponsored by Jim Beam and so they had to give out t-shirts. in ten minutes the shirts were gone and the girls were done for the night. ten measely minutes. life's almost fair, huh?

brown and those damn trucker hats if anyone out there is wondering what it takes to fit in, all you need is a "cool" "retro" trucker hat (bonus points if it has a Von Dutch patch on it) and wear some kind of brown shirt. any kind of brown shirt...doesn't matter. in fact, the uglier and more worn the shirt is, the better. who the hell is in charge of deciding who gets to set trends nowadays? i want names. they're on Santa's never-fuckin'-getting-presents-ever-again-in-their-godforsaken-lives list.

white guys who play bass they shouldn't. they just shouldn't. it's not allowed. while arnold is busy repealing car taxes and passing new bills through the state government he should ban all bands from having a white bass player. they have absolutely no rhythm, they all look like they're from Nebraska, and just DON'T BELONG ANYWHERE NEAR THE FRONT OF THE STAGE!!!!1111111111 chicanos, latinos, african-americans, mulattos, puerto ricans, indians, asians....these are all acceptable ethnicities for any bass player to have. being white is not one of them!

overall i would have to say it was a most excellent concert. from high atop my perch in the upper balcony where i could spy on all the insane high school kids who think they are all different because they all wear the same punk clothes with chains and spikey hair being the disassociated youths of America that they are, i would venture to say that this Zebrahead/The Silence/Recess concerts was one of the best concerts i have ever attended. top five even. the best coincidentally being the last time i saw Zebrahead in concert...with Goldfinger, Reel Big Fish, Homegrown, and RX Panic in 2000.

and i'm spent. a guy's gotta sleep ya know. especially a guy who has to be at work in five hours.
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 12:31 AM (0) comments

 

i don't know if i'm right, but i know that you're wrong

I was driving around Hollywood yesterday, and damn! it totally seems like one of those "nice to visit but you wouldn't want to live here" type places. except i'm totally pulled into it. i so want to move to Hollywood! aside from all the bad things like carjackings, murders, and incidental homicides due to drug overdoses, i'm finding amazing apartments within walking distance to the strip. and i'm in a pretty decent place as it is being more or less across the street from the beach, but to be within walking distance to the bars and concert type places i think would be pretty sweet too.



anyway, i'm about to head out to see Zebrahead at the House of Blues on Sunset. some guy posted online that he was giving away free tickets, so i said "hey, gimme those" and he mailed me 4 of 'em. and i tried so hard to get other people to come with me, but no one here wants to go (i got turned down by everyone at work and even a supermarket cashier), and no one in Atlanta who would want to go wants to shell out 300 bucks for a plane ticket. cheap bastards. so maybe i'll just give the extra tickets to bums i see laying around. because, hey! who doesn't like a free show?
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 5:01 PM (0) comments

 

"if you'd stop ear hustlin' and actually listen to the whole conversation, maybe you wouldn't sound so retarded next time"

i'm a sucker. i went on a total binge last night at Target. for anyone who's ever lived with me or been in my apartment, they know i'm a packrat when it comes to movies. they get added to my collection in mass herdings.

the latest additions

Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back
The Whole Nine Yards
Ghostbusters
Pirates of the Caribbean
Freaky Friday
The Man with Two Brains
Hot Shots
Major League
(and one other one which i can't remember
but has to be better than this)


maybe if you're at least a little normal, you'll be thinking "what the hell is Freaky Friday doing in there? or more importantly, what are you doing with that movie? isn't the girl in that, like, twelve?"

Lindsay Lohan is 17 and half...so there!

and yeah, Parent Trap probably (read definitely) wasn't the best remake ever, but at least she's moved into the same league as Kirk Cameron and Dudley Moore. and i'm not all sketchy and obsessed with her like my old roommate last year was with the Olsen Twins, so please don't have me arrested.

um, that's all...i'll be leaving now
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 5:14 PM (0) comments

 

sometimes there's nothing like a good swift kick to the nuts -- we're talking a soccer-style kick where the toes actually extend beyond the pendulous ornaments and you feel the collapse of your epididymis caused by the crushing impact of the ever-accelerating metatarsals

so this weekend was absolutely amazing and ranks among the top five of all weekends i've ever had. and much like the eye-opening experience described in my heading, you can learn a lot about yourself and others during your second trip back "home." going "home" the first time is kind of weird. you expect things to change, but you also expect a lot of things to stay the same. and while you're there, you want to know, well, what's changed and what's stayed the same. it's very distracting actually. equate your first trip "home" to two middle school girls who see each other in every class, and get on the bus to go home, scramble to their house, only to talk to each other on the phone for the next several hours. honestly, there probably wasn't that much that was worthy of such immediate sharing in those 5 minutes they were apart. but the second time is better, because you already know what's changed and what's stayed the same from the first trip. so you actually get to enjoy your second trip "home." during the second trip, you've probably had enough time to feel somewhat settled in your new environment. you've made friends, you've experienced your new city, you have new stories to tell.

and as lists are the only way i can organize myself at work, it would make sense that such a device would work in this aspect of my life as well. so here goes my weekend from start to finish Friday December 12, 2003 - Sunday December 14, 2003:
-- left work at 10am needless to say i was in the middle of making a 6 inch diameter eyeball out of synthetic skin that was supposed to be sent to Minneapolis via FedEx at 4 that afternoon. i basically dumped the whole project in someone else's lap. damn i hate when that happens to me.
-- drove along the beach on Pacific Coast Highway to my apartment you'd think that after driving a combined hour and a half on the same route along the beach everyday would eventually desensitize my love for the water. you'd think that, but you'd be wrong.
-- walked into my apartment hoping that my roommate was there and could take me to the airport so i wouldn't have to pay 10 bucks a day to leave my car in a lot no such luck. should've figured as much.
-- drove the 10 minutes to the airport with the gas tank needle penetrating the E-line like Ron Jeremy, i never thought i'd make it to the airport. a smart person would've stopped to get gas. a smart person would have left more than 30 minutes to be sitting in seat 17E. i am neither of these smart people.
-- made it to my plane on time packing like any real man would (ie just a carry-on for the weekend) i didn't have to wait in line to check in and get my boarding pass. not to mention the fact that the security lines were amazingly quick, and everyone seemed to rush out of my way as i glided to my departure gate with time to spare.
-- 4.5 hours in seat 17E maybe it's just me, but AirTran's flight attendants are way better than Delta's. and who cares if there's no movie, or the pretzels are stale, or the fabric on the seats were a little more worn, or the bathrooms were the same size as calista flockhart's pants. i don't think that stuff is worth the extra hundred bucks anyway.
-- waited to be picked up by one of the most amazing people i know when she showed up, it was the very informal chit chat that two people who barely knew each other would use to maintain a cocktail conversation. don't worry, things seemed back to normal by the time i left...at least in my mind
-- met another friend and headed out to the bars talking about industry standards, company spinoffs, and stock markets, you'd think that we were 40 year old bankers. still, i felt grown up even though i'm sure i seemed like an annoying little kid who wants to be part of the conversation more than anything else by throwing in little one liners of made up bullshit mixed with a little truth
-- drinks at the bar Neighbors in Virginia Highlands is one of those places that could be really cool on the right night. that night was not one of those nights. after a round of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, a rum and coke, and a Newcastle, the three of us headed to a friend of a friend's christmas party. ---- (by the way, for those who use xmas to abbreviate christmas, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING???? it's not friggin' CROSSmas!!!!11111)
-- drinks at the friend of a friend's place actually, a lot of drinks at the friend of a friend's place. and a whole bunch of our other friends showed up and we all hung out and it was awesome seeing everyone again knowing that i'd see them the next night anyway. and maybe it's just me, but anytime the two people who live in an apartment leave and ask you to make sure the candles are out and the doors are locked, that entitles your friends (who are their friends also) to swipe two bottles of Jagermeister from the freezer, right? it's like a closing fee or something. i'm sure there's an unwritten law somewhere.
-- getting called by the ex could only be described as awkward. apparently i was supposed to call some old friends, but when the first words out of her mouth are "i'm calling to yell at you for not calling us" it makes you kind of glad you didnt call them in the first place. not to mention it kind of pulls you out of the party mode...
-- going to a club for one who is not a regular clubgoer, i must admit it was fun to be there. i suppose i should first say that i drank at the party, but not at the club as to be able to drive home, thereby taking the DD position from another friend so he could enjoy the festivities as we had. i still had a blast.
-- driving home from the club maybe it's just because they're drunk, but when you drive friends home from a party, i think they really appreciate it. well, they say thank you anyway. usually when they're sober you don't get such a gratuity.
-- sleeping on a futon you used to own but left at the apartment when you moved out in exchange for payment of two months of power bills damn that thing is not near as comfortable as it once was. i slept on that thing for pretty much the whole of my last year in college, but damn! it was so incredibly not comfortable anymore. i'm thinking it's because i knew it wasn't mine, so that meant that i could complain about it.
-- waking up 4 hours later it's one thing to have to worry about waking yourself up after a night out drinking. but to have to wake up 2 other guys? damn near impossible. that's when you have girls go and jump on them. if that doesn't work, usually a knee to the crotch gets them up real fast
-- GT basketball game against St. Louis while i was in school for a 6 year tenure, i might have attended a max of 5 basketball games. but they're good this year (so far) so i felt compelled to go. and since the three of us are out of college and have jobs, it makes sense that we would want to pay for the $35 tickets down low instead of the $15 tickets in the nosebleed seats, right?
-- buying gag gifts there's an art to gag gift purchasing. it's all about shock value: either unbelievably over the top, or unbelievably plain and ordinary...nothing in between. initially i bought the largest bra and pair of panties that the local Target carried (44DD and 2XL for those keeping track at home), but the more i thought about it, the more i didnt feel fulfilled with my purchase. so i bought the smallest SpongeBob Squarepants boys' underroos i could find (size 3) which actually freaked me out a little bit. still not fulfilled, we ventured to the Poster Hut on Cheshire Bridge Rd, which in no way sells anything related to posters. it's more of an adult novelty/video/toy store. the things i bought weren't really that great (an adult version of Chicklets--use your imagination, a threesome windup toy, a rather fetish-y holiday card, and a piggy launcher -- which does exactly what it says (it launches piggies) amazing, huh?) but in any gag gift exchange, it's not about what the actual present is, it's all about expectation value.
-- wrapping gag gifts wow, i could not have had a better lead-in. the wrapping of a present in any white elephant gag gift exchange is of penultimate importance. as my presents have been swapped/stolen/exchanged/passed around more than any other present over the past several years' christmas parties, i took it upon myself to uphold my tradition and raise the bar. and if i can ever post a picture of it on here, i will -- it's that good. but if you're good at pretending and imagining things, i'll describe it for you: those panties and the bra i purchased at Target earlier? yeah, they went on the outside of the box. and while it wasn't really the purpose of me getting them, their final purpose was that much better. so take the taller-than-it-is-wide box and more or less dress it. stuff the bra (and the panties if you're into that kind of thing) and put a black Molson Ice shirt over the box leaving one flap up. endlessly search Maxim magazine until you find the perfect head to place atop the 44DDs ready to bust out of the watered-down beer shirt. we ended up with an amazingly gorgeous headshot of Katherine Heigl from the Girls of the WB issue a couple years ago. why my friend/ex-roommate had a 40+ volume collection of Maxim's i'll never know. but i am grateful. throw on a santa hat, and our most amazing present was wrapped. it was as if she was the gift itself. oh yeah, the other crap was thrown inside (piggy launcher, wind up toy, gum, and card). but it didnt matter. "she" was as gorgeous as any box could have been (no pun or sexual innuendo intended).
-- the party it's a party. like any other party. like any other party held at an apartment complex's clubhouse that has 50 of your closest family and friends and amazing food and a pool table and a shulbok table (the greatest game ever by the way) and a friggin' parrot pinata and beer and liquor flowing like wine. i didn't get very drunk, which seemed to actually bother some of my friends. but they got over it (ie passed out). actually, i just had a slow start and caught up around 6am.
-- sleep you can't really be uncomfortable when you fall asleep (ie pass out) after a party. doesn't matter if you're on a bed, or an air mattress, or on the floor. and 6 hours was way more than i was expecting, so that's a bonus.
-- after party/hangover food three cheers for Taco Bell!!!!1111
-- the airport first off, there's something to be said about hugs. i like 'em. can't get enough. and though a hug goodbye isn't nearly the same as a hug hello, well, it's a good feeling nevertheless. walking to the ticket counter, a pink ski cap comes rushing into view. it was one of my residents from when i was an RA last year in college. fall semester is over. good conversation on the way to our gates, and he's gone. with a little advice. i guess as long as they still ask questions or for my opinion, i'll be more than happy to give them my time. on a completely different note, my departure/arrival gates are always the very very absolute farthest from wherever i start or want to be. when i walk into a terminal and see people sitting at their gates 15 feet from me, i can't help but hold back fits of rage combined with jealousy. i shift my carry-on luggage a little higher on my shoulder, and begin my Everest-like trek to the end gate where there are no restaurants or bathrooms or Starbucks. can't a guy catch a break?
-- the flight home it was AirTran again. i already said everything i have to say about it. good stews, pretty bad everything else. but it's cheap. one of those college behaviors it'll be hard to break.
-- drive home only had to pay 9 bucks a day for my car, which saved me 3 bucks, so i stopped for gas. made me feel a little better about paying $1.75 a gallon knowing i had an "extra" 3 bucks in my pocket.
-- home home. my home. with my stuff. even though i still don't have furniture and sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor. but it's still mine. and that makes it good enough for me. only 6 hours of sleep until i had to get up to go to work. it's ok. i was home.

and in a nutshell, that was my weekend. there was lots of stuff i left out, like some of the most amazing dialogue you've ever heard a guy throw at a girl at a club, or a girl tell a guy to use to get a girl for that matter. and it may not be the most wild weekend ever, in fact it definitely wasn't, but after a couple months away from everyone, it makes me appreciate them all that much more.

and dammit, it's after 9 and i'm still sitting at work. eh, whatever.
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 9:46 PM (0) comments

 

They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself -- Andy Warhol

so this weekend was amazing. and i suck for not updating since tuesday, but this weekend was amazing. and when i have time tomorrow i will fill you in. and not with some romance-novel jargon about throbbing members, but with stories and tales that will leave you wishing you could fly like superman and turn back time and simultaneously relive this past weekend with me. for only then would you understand.

you think you know, but you have no idea
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 7:41 PM (0) comments

 

maybe if i close my eyes and think real hard...

...i can actually pretend that christmas is in 16 days. maybe it's the fact that my head has been swimming the past two months trying to get accustomed to a new way of life away from everybody, or it's the bright sunny days and the beach and the palm trees that scream summer, but i'm finding it harder than usual to get in the so-called christmas spirit this year. i've been getting pretty close i suppose...i actually wrote a huge long christmas card that ended up being too huge and long so i'm in the process of throwing it away and starting over (which will probably make it a Happy 2nd Tuesday in January card). i mailed a christmas present in november to my roommate last year -- he was always infatuated with the Olsen twins, and i sent him a Mary Kate doll i found in my company's store room.

maybe it's because it's just slowly become another day. just another day off school. just another day of sitting around the house with my parents. they've always liked having just the three of us together. for the past couple years i had thought how much more fun it would be to have a huge Griswold family xmas. or a McAllister family xmas. but if i were kevin, i'd have kicked uncle frank's ass. the bastard.
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 5:37 PM (0) comments

 

tampon et autocollant

you'd think this was the newest trend in feminine products. some guys might think it was some sort of feminine product with automated cooling device, but you all would be wrong. in fact, it is the latest defilation of children's programming, stealing the innocence from the already jaded minds of America's youth. actually, it's the latest defilation of children's programming, stealing the innocence from the already jaded minds of France's youth. which is ok i guess. it is also apparently the translated title of a Dora the Explorer toy to be released across the pond.

les Français sont fous pour permettre à leurs enfants de jouer avec des tampons!
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 11:11 AM (0) comments

 
I don’t know when it was exactly. In the past, I’ve been crippled the instant that certain someone would wander into my life. First my eyes would lock on, then for the life of me, I can't get them to look away. I can’t blink. I would then feel my legs go numb. I usually have to find something to lean against or use my arms for support or fall. I normally have the wherewithal to snap out of it and the paralysis is only momentary - I’ve never actually fallen. Once the initial shock is over, I regain composure and return to being my regular, analytical, mostly rational self; I then use all my powers of self-control to keep myself from becoming a babbling idiot. And it begins, but it’s an exercise I have some control over. Not that I have much control, but at least I know where I stand right from the start. But you caught me by surprise. I didn’t see it coming. Maybe it was because it was slow and steady. When I first saw you, there was not a clue that I’d be here now - in this state. But here I am turning into that babbling idiot. Your beauty is like the billions of tiny drops of rain forming the vast oceans; it was not apparent to me at first. Because you blindsided me with your little surprise attack(s), you successfully bypassed all my usual defenses. I now find myself falling deeper with very little hope of regaining control over my emotions. I keep telling myself that it’s wrong. You’re with someone. You’re probably not all that interested. You tend to be flirtatious and maybe I’m just another passing guy you’re being nice to. You leave me puzzled, disappointed, and determined. One would think the best policy would be honesty - to just go in and say what’s true in my heart. But it turns out the games the mind plays proves the most effective. You know how I feel. I know you know. You know I know. I know you know I know. The levels of knowing are beyond measurement. I know from your eyes as you know from mine. Yet when I put my feelings for you into action, you just take it for granted; the more I give, the less you care; the less I care, the more you give. This game isn’t new. It still doesn’t make much sense to me. Why must we go through this ritual? Doesn’t it seem pointless? Are you a sadist? Why do you want me to be one? I want to shower you with kisses. But I also want to fuck you senseless. Maybe it makes sense after all. Maybe you’re too sweet and oblivious to see all this, but I get the feeling you know more than you’re willing to reveal. While you, at present, can take refuge from how strong this is by utilizing the company of another, I await the second I can see you again before this knot in my stomach unfurls. It took me so long to not need anyone, yet thoughts of you are increasingly taking over all parts of my being. I now vividly recall the meaning of the word longing. I know with longing comes jealousy, lust, contempt, elation, misery, anger, love, and all the other rollercoaster states of being…all the fed up things that remind me of being alive. I have successfully insulated myself from all this and you managed to let me feel again. I’m a total wreck. Years later, I can write a story about what could’ve been: my quiet suffering, the longing, the inspiration, but if I had to trade all the positive that might result for just one long kiss at this very moment... Some days I curse you for this slow, sweet, torture, but I desperately want you in my arms. I must be in love. I hate love. I’m afraid of love. How much damage has been done? I want to pump my fist in the air and cry like a baby at the same time. I’m hysterical. At this rate, I’m going to need help soon or I won’t function. I am a junkie and you’re my fix.

i did not write this. but i think it's what everyone feels at some point in their life. the unlucky ones more than once.
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 12:23 PM (0) comments

 

deja vu deja vu

sometimes it's just easier to laugh at all the dumb shit that happens around me since i've moved out here, and sometimes it drives me insane, and sometimes i wonder how i ever lived anywhere but here, and sometimes i wonder what could have happened had i not moved, and sometimes things change, but lately it seems that more than anything, things have a way of staying the same

no matter where we go, or what we do, or who we see, you'll always be able to find people you like and people you don't, amazing people as well as assholes, people that will make you smile and people that will make you cry, and you'll find that the more you try to change things, the more they stay the same
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 4:27 PM (0) comments

 

Pork is a Nice Sweet Meat

I was watching the wonderful porcine cinematic triumph commonly known as Babe last night before i fell asleep on the floor of my new apartment as i have absolutely zero furniture because i only brought whatever fit in my car across country with me, and surprisingly, a couple of couches, a bed, a desk, and a few tables don't fit inside my teal green 1996 all manual 2 door hatchback Ford Escort LX (riding on fourteens -- i'm little pimpin') forcing me to go to Target and CostCo and buy basic "starter" furniture, because the best i can figure, lofted beds and futons, a line of liquor bottles filled with hi-liter-hued water, and posters scattered on the walls around the room just scream college, and i'm desperately trying to pull away from it, but it keeps holding me back, and i know eventually i'll be able to afford decent furniture and it's actually easier for me to start buying things i like than having to worry about getting rid of old furniture, and as I lied there amidst a pile of sheets on the still-wet-from-just-being-cleaned carpets, i realized that not having furniture completely blows and i am counting the minutes until the weekend starts when i can get stuff and then all the nice ladies will want to go back to my apartment not because i made it up or anything, but because it is so.
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 5:41 PM (0) comments

 

Drinking and that guy

Having talked to one of my friends on the subject and encountering an interesting experience of my own, and maybe it's because i'm getting older and growing out of that phase, or i'm just a loser that has never really known how to have a good time, but i've begin to question why people drink so much to the point that they reach points of conciousness where they have none, where time just ceases to exist, when in fact the point is to go out and have an awesome time, doesn't drinking beyond recognition work against said purpose of having a good time, unless of course you don't want to remember the good time to be had, in which case you have other issues, and then if you throw in the propensity of those overimbibers to disgorge anything they ate in the past six hours all over the ground, possibly their friends, and inevitably their pants and shoes, consuming inordinate amounts of alcohol just doesn't seem to be worth it, and i'm not necessarily the best to speak out against overindulgence in the nectar of the gods for i have had my nights, and my days, and my dawns and dusks, and perhaps it just got real expensive after a while or my clothes all got redecorated by my (and others) retched abdominal contents, or it was the realization that this past Halloween when I found myself downtown in a club dressed up in drag by my coworkers only to wake up the next afternoon alone in my bed, remembering that my keys, my wallet, and my cell phone were in a friend of a friend of a friend's apartment; that my car was parked 25 miles away; and that i had absolutely no clue how i got home that night (morning) or what i had done for the past 12 hours, and sure, i imagine i had an amazing night out with a bunch of fun people, but as there are no pictures and no one i went with will tell me anything about what happened, all i know is that it was an expensive way to get dressed up in women's clothes and feel extremely tired and hung over in the morning, and i could have done that at home for free (which is NOT what i do at home by the way) -- and i think it was these events that caused me to wonder if the possibility of a good night out is worth the hassle and the expense, and the more i think about it, the more i realize that it is.

It is safe to say that what bothers me the most about drinking is not whether or not I will get drunk (that's a given), but that someone else will be that guy, you know who i'm talking about -- well, actually there's a bunch of "guys": there's the Dr. Jekyl/Mr. Hyde syndrome that sometimes happens when said guy has a drastic change in personality (commonly seen as the overaggresive jackass who, after half a smirnoff ice, begins to whine like a little bitch), there's the Small Bladder Guy who keeps leaving because he has to pee every 5 minutes, there's Let Me Get You Drunk So You Won't Realize I'm Taking Advantage Of You Guy who ultimately hooks up with some unsuspecting coed who wouldn't give him the time of day otherwise, and then there's DrunkWastedSmashedBlitzed Guy who loves nothing more than to tell every person (often more than once) how drunk or wasted or smashed or blitzed he is, and tons of other guys that drive me nuts and are total buzzkills and you wish they would just pass out so you can enjoy your evening, and if you can't label anyone at your party as that guy, well, it's probably you and you're too drunk to know it.
- posted by yeah...about that... @ 6:13 PM (0) comments