(in a very odd Today's Quiz first - I'm reposting what I wrote on my Fantasy NBA League's message board)
I fell in love with Jimmy Butler on February 17, 2009.
As many in this league know, nothing makes me cheer louder than the basketball team from Marquette University. It is where I went to school and
where I had the pleasure of seeing nearly every Dwyane Wade home game of
his career. I've been making the hour plus drive to Milwaukee multiple
times every year for the past ten plus years.
On February 17, 2009 I saw a lazy win over Seton Hall. The (then ranked #10) team was
led in scoring by Wesley Matthews with 24 points, but the takeaway
memory for me was seeing Jimmy Butler slam down an ally-oop tossed from
half court.
I had only seen Butler play once before, he spent his freshman year at a
Junior College and was reguluated to the deep bench behind an
upperclassman heavy roster. That night he became my favorite player on
my favorite team. A spot he never relinquished until his final game for Marquette.
I didn't think Wesley Matthews would make an NBA roster the following
season in 2010, and although I loved the hustle I saw that 2009 night
from Butler - I would've called you clinically insane if you told me
Jimmy Butler would find his way into the Chicago Bulls starting lineup
in under four years. When Matthews started flourishing early into his
rookie season in Utah, I was able to pick him up in our Fantasy League
because nobody was watching his box scores closer. Again, even though I
was over thrilled with Butler being drafted from my hometown favorite
in 2011 - I didn't think I'd be repeating the same gesture.
And
then we have tonight... The first time I was able to play Jimmy Butler
in my starting fantasy lineup, where he shot an impressive 7-10 from the
floor to yield a career high 19 points (and 6 rebounds). I didn't get
to see this game, for I was again in Milwaukee watching my beloved
college hoops squad. And even though the game featured a player scoring
a career high 30 points, it was another player that made me smile.
Steve Taylor Jr.
Someday
I hope to have Steve Taylor Jr. on my fantasy team. You'll never hear
this anyplace else in your life, but you're hearing it here first. This
freshman from Chicago's Simeon High School (he wears #25 for MU, which I
owe my knowledge of its significance to the ESPN 30 for 30 documentary
"Benji") is the next NBA player that Marquette will produce.
Today was a good day to be a fan of basketball.
P.S.
Yes, I ordered my Jimmy Butler Shrtsey online already, and I just couldn't wait until I received it to write this post!
Earlier this afternoon, as most days when I decide I need to go to my barber for a haircut, I quickly called the shop to make sure Roy would be there until 6 o'clock (the usual closing time). The place is located closer to my parents' house - it's usually a time crunch for me to get there in time and he is kind enough to not lock me out when I need his services. There aren't any appointments in a place like this, and I typically have to wait behind one or two customers who arrived earlier.
I walked in and noticed someone was already in his chair - and I plopped down in a waiting area chair more than content to wait. Less than an hour earlier I had walked out the door for the last time that I had been walking into for seven years and was exhausted mentally and emotionally. My hair accurately reflected my state - my new job at a new company starts Monday and new coworkers might not be as accepting of my "crazy hair" that is a regular result of a stressful workday.
My first words to Roy... "Big day."
Midway though my reveal of my employment change, my entire train of thought was derailed - I noticed a note pinned to the other side of the wall:
"AFTER 50 YEARS OF CUTTING HAIR, I AM RETIRING TO SMELL THE ROSES ON MAY 19..."
Roy has diabetes. He's had it for about seven years. I didn't know these two facts before tonight. Suddenly my nervousness and worry about my future felt very small and petty. Roy's health had started to become a larger concern, and he wants to travel with his wife while his kidneys won't make it too cumbersome. The chapter of my life spanning the past seven years - unquestionably the best seven years of my life - were at an official end. But that same time my trusted barber has not had as great of luck. In addition to another superior haircut, I received a much needed shampoo of perspective (please pardon the horrid pun-metaphor).
Exactly one month from this new haircut Roy will leave me a barber widow. Chances are high that I'll make my way back in there just for one last cut while I search for another barber.
A quick rundown of the barbers who have cut my hair successfully on multiple occasions:
Don
Jim
Tom
Don (different guy)
Vic
Roy
A quick run down of the barbers who have been horrible:
Mike
Mary
John
The trend is clear. I need a barber that has a 3 letter name. This is non-negotiable.
January 24, 2012 is my birthday. As an American, I'm allowed to be totally self absorbed and selfish on this day. Therefore, I'm using this opportunity to write an extremely long brag. Please note that I did not write this for you - it's entirely for me: A document to upload to the Internet that I will be able to look back at for years to follow. This is my birthday present to myself.
Dear Facebook, not everything has to be "like"-able
2006 was the best year of my life. I knew it while the year was ending. It wasn't in the morbid, "well, it's all downhill from here" sense - it was a warm feeling of accomplishment. That year I finally told my parents that they were ready to live on their own when I bought my condo and was also the year I won a free weekend in Vegas thanks to a lavish charity poker tournament held on Northerly Island. In January of that year I started blogging and by the end I had accomplished a resolution of finishing 12 books in 12 months (a feat I have yet to equal again). Life was sweet, life was comfortable, life was happy. The following years were slight builds featuring more sweetness, comfort and happiness - but I knew it was all set in motion by 2006.
2006 was the best year of my life - past tense. 2011 is the new highpoint. Again, I don't feel like 2012 is going to be horrid (Ancient Mayans, I'm looking in your direction). Barring something insanely crazy like getting brainwashed into a marriage or fatherhood - it will probably be more than 5 years when it gets topped, if ever. [Although it might be a slight cheat - I'm going to modify by "best year" to the 365 days between my 32nd birthday and my 33rd. There are a couple events from an already stellar January that I want to include in this post.]
The little things: my sporting year
Obviously, you're not a golfer
Even though I started golfing a few years ago, 2011 was really the year I became a golfer. At the start of the season, I openly worried with friends that it might be the last season for me - that if I wasn't happy with my progress I wasn't going to continue. As much as I don't like to admit it, I don't think I truly took the game seriously when I started - seemingly more interested in wearing stupid straw hats or making a damn fool of myself in outbursts of rage. My first time out in 2011, one of my friends said that he didn't recognize me in my new "golf hat" (a modest white Titleist cap). My last time out I hit my preset goal for the year (and also saw a friend bury an eagle from about 190 yards away). But it's not the quantitative scoring improvement of 2011 that earns its place in this post - it was the network of about 6 different people that was willing to spend a few hours with me nearly every Saturday this summer that made it the best.
My home on Wednesday nights
The first sport I loved, basketball, earns an honorable mention here. I took over the low-maintenance coordination duties of a weekly open gym. Pick up basketball is often young men at their worst: hard fouls, harder personalities, and massive amounts of others' shirtless sweat - however, not when I'm in charge. It's more difficult than you'd think to gather ten people who aren't pricks and can remember the four other people on their team. Another reason that makes my basketball group great: we donate a ton of food to a local food pantry.
We made shirts
And now I bowl. It's not the first bowling league I've been a part of - but it's the first bowling team that has ever found its way to first place. If I am honest with my most egotistical self - it's not the team's success which is making me happy (it should be noted, my average is the worse of the team named StrongMenAlsoCry). I'm getting out of work on a usually boring Tuesday night to roll with a couple friends. We all laugh together and regularly tease each other. The only thing that I love more than the others' toleration of my non stop Lebowski quoting is the creation of the below video. It will keep me smiling for many years:
What was heard: my year in music
Jim James of My Morning Jacket
Arcade Fire winning the Grammy for Album of the Year in 2011 was a moment of huge joy for me. Was it my favorite album of theirs? - no. Was it in my opinion the best album of that year? - not even close... But when a band you like - that a lot of people were vocal about never knowing existed - wins an award like that it's like having your small school win the National Championship.
More important for me, 2011 was a record setting year in both concerts attended and people who went to concerts with me. After years of trying to convince friends to check out this band, or having the same friends ask me to check out that band - we finally saw'em all when they came to Chicago. Or, as was the case with my favorite show of the year, go up to Milwaukee (My Morning Jacket at Riverside Theater) to catch a better performance. Even though MMJ was the best show, my strongest memory from the past year might be how I got myself to see Foster the People for free. (and then also, by the same reward, see Girls) Yes, I made a chart to fully detail just how many great shows I saw with many great people:
Other people's joy: my year of being included in something bigger
Doug & Rachel
Not too long ago, if you would tell me that I would not blink twice at missing Fatboy Slim performing in Chicago or a hometown Lebowski Fest I would not have believed you. Those two events seem to be right up my selfish alley, but 2011 presented me with better options that reminded me there are other people I care about more than myself.
The wedding of Rachel & Doug was not the first wedding in which I viewed both halves of the union as a friend. It was also not the first time I was an usher in a ceremony. It felt different because Rachel & Doug are not lifelong friends I've known since childhood. I always knew of them as a couple and they always knew of me as a beaten up romantic cynic.
Me n'Matthew
Then there's Matthew: my Godson. Again, it's not the first instance of a friend having a kid - and not the first instance of watching a child grow before my eyes that I've had a sincere connection and love. Matthew is my first Godson (his parents = crazy?). The title definitely changes things - and I'm already loving my front seat to the rest of his life. I'm dreaming of living vicariously through his accomplishments and bragging about him without having any of the time and pressure responsibilties his parents have.
The separate incidents of Rachel & Doug's wedding and Matthew's Baptism does not make me want to start a family any sooner - but I'm happy everyone involved in those events felt different.
Passion Affinity Infinity: the year of #mubb (and its role in my Las Vegas success)
Ring out ahoya
There's nothing more I can say about my time in Las Vegas during March 2011 that hasn't already been blogged with an incredible amount of detail. Those five days in Nevada was the greatest time I had [domestically] in 2011 - with a large part courtesy of the NCAA results of my beloved alma mater. Even with the Vegas Geographical piece aside Marquette Basketball deserves its own block in this post. Once again I had purchased a 5 game ticket plan and was able to take a few more people to their first Marquette game. The team is a personal source of pride and I love being able to share it with others - to have them experience just how many students go to the game and to know that a smaller private school can sell out an arena built for an NBA franchise. For example, I was finally able to take MySister to a game. She had bought a "Beat Syracuse" button in the Spirit Shop before the game after I told her that Syracuse was the only team MU has yet to beat since joining the Big East. The button worked, and more importantly MySister wore that button the next time they played: The 2nd Round of the NCAA Tournament - when I literally ran a victory lap around the Sports Book at Treasure Island and bought many people celebratory beers.
With a MU rah-rah
I've already been to 3 games this year - and Marquette has won all three! Keeping the family vibe going, I took my Dad (MU class of 1960) to the game and even though he seems to cheer louder at the Kiss Cam - it always fills my heart when I'm able to take him there. It's a great arrangement / tradition we have: I buy the tickets, he buys the celebratory Culvers meal on ride home.
(FYI: #mubb is the Twitter hashtag that links all "Marquette University Basketball" tweets -it's a fun community and culture that I'm slowly becoming more entrenched)
Sri Lanka: the year I happened to go to the other side of the world
MySister & I in Sri Lanka
Still can't believe I did that. My head may never wrap around my choice to join MySister in Sri Lanka for two full weeks. I didn't even have a passport when I made the decision.
It's the highlight of my life. Pure and simple the largest endeavor I undertook causing the best result I ever could have imagined. I wrote many posts soon after my return about it. The experience almost killed this blog - for there seemed nothing in my humble life blogworthy anymore.
Negombo Cricket Club: 2011 Fantasy Baseball Champions
Every aspect of my life seemed to be positively influenced by it - from the crazy awesome winning streak I experience at the poker tables (funding my plane ticket) to my appropriately named Fantasy Baseball team winning a Championship.
The group that organized the build, the team I joined, recently created a video I hope you all watch. I'm in it briefly, but MySister is the exclamation point at the end. Thank you Be The Change Volunteers:
BONUS MENTION: Bowling Pin continues - highlighted by a new best effort in St. Louis
Bowling Pin has now been photographed in seven states
I barely slept last night.
Tonight will be worse.
Tomorrow night will be impossible.
Wednesday night I'll be in Las Vegas.
So what do I do after I finally check in? Should I just start walking on the Strip to whatever calls my name? Perhaps down toward the new CityCenter project (the only properties on the Strip that have opened since my last visit?). Should I head the other way to my favorite Wynn, and get into a No Limit cash game right away?
No, Wynn will be my first target the following day. Yeah, it's St. Patrick's Day, but more importantly it's the first day of the NCAAs. (First day that counts, neglecting the first two days of First Round "action.") What's the first bet? I'm leaning towards a Big East Parlay in the early games with West Virginia and Louisville... Hell, let me throw in Pitt into that parlay mix because by the time that game is underway I'll be watching from inside the Wynn Poker Room. I'm cashing in that noon tournament, damnit!
Then I'll remember that I actually know other souls also vacationing in Vegas while I am there, which is different from my past few trips. Perhaps I'll cab it over to the Palms? Perhaps I'll take a moment of St. Paddy's day mayhem at O'Sheas? Maybe scout out the scene at Mandalay Bay - the early front runner to host Friday's action?
Oh God that Friday.... That's the day Marquette will play... I can't believe I'll have to wait until the third set of games. 4:27 pm won't come soon enough. The craps tables of Mandalay Bay will be a perfect distraction I presume. It being Friday and all, that nearby McDonald's at Luxor better have enough Fillet O'Fishes on supply - I can't go a Friday in Lent without one... or four...
No matter what happens as far as my gaming fortune is concerned, Friday will be won or lost with my Marquette Basketball team. Nearby friends will be Boilered Up, but I will be a ghost the rest of the evening if what I expect to happen does...
Saturday, if I haven't been yet, will be In-N-Out's time to shine. With less NCAA games to watch on this day versus the previous two, there'll be a nice slowdown to get a 2 x 4 - give me extra spread... And then who knows where my mind will wander me. A Sit n'Go at The Mirage? A cheapo tourney at Harrahs? Blackjack at El Cortez? The 7 pm tourney at Aria is a leading candidate - although I'll have to do at least one tournament at Caesars before I leave.
Could my last day bring the awesome gift of another Marquette game to watch? Oh, the thought of it warms my spirit. Before I leave I'll need to make a courtesy dice roll at TI too.
It's been over 15 months. It's been too long. Only need to wake up and go to work two more times. Only got to get my head on my own pillow two more times. If only my mind would close as easily as my eyelids...
It's 2:53 AM as I begin this post. While staring at the inside of my eyelids I had a thought - a fake conversation that I'm never going to have in reality. It compelled me to bump my computer out of its sleep and type.
A note to any body who happens to read this with two x chromosomes and is not currently in a relationship - you may want to stop reading now. Also, if you are additionally someone who hasn't yet ruled out me as being potentially attractive - I wholeheartedly beg you to stop reading.
...so what do you like? I love travel, love. Oh? Where have you gone? Nowhere yet, but it's a high priority. It's a goal, I know I'll do it. I'm sure you will. Are you being sarcastic? No, that's a sincere comment... but... Would it be more accurate to say that you love the idea of travel? What? Or is your love a blind faith based love. You don't like travel? It's great, the limited places I've been.... It's not Rome, but have I mentioned what a gem of a discovery the city of Louisville was? It's not the same, you haven't been to Europe. Have you? You know what I mean. I have friends that sincerely love to travel - they've been places like Spain and China - it's a thrill for them to be surrounded in a culture that's not American. I think it gives them a perspective on their life. What's your point? Is it an escape? What is the fuel behind your passion? My theory is that you are in love with the concept or the idea of travel and since you haven't traveled you obsesses on it's thought. Wow. You are so cynical. What if I told you I loved skiing. Do you? No. But if I said I did, you'd believe me - right? It's a perfectly normal activity to say to enjoy. Right. But what if I said I loved skiing, but have never been skiing - wouldn't that be odd? But you could still want to go skiing. I've never been skydiving but totally want to someday. Okay, that makes sense - but you don't say you love to skydive and I don't say I love to ski... By the way, I do want to ski someday. What's wrong with you? I'm not done with this skiing thing yet. It's a luxury to me, the activity. My family had a few vacations growing up, but it was almost based around a family reunion or wedding. And to be blunt, skiing is an expensive venture - our family wasn't jetting off to Aspen on holiday. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Maybe you can go as far as to think I have a bit of jealousy over those that have skied? I don't know, you know? Oh go screw yourself. C'mon. Why are you so adamant against travel? I'm not against travel. The highlight of my last month was booking my next airplane ticket. The out of proportion importance of travel, especially among people who haven't traveled to the extent of their preaching baffle me. Look, I'm not a shut-in. Can't you see how if someone went to the Paris of Kentucky and enjoyed it that it would be safe to assume that it would be more enjoyable on a larger extent? That is why I want to go to Asia and Africa... I've already been to Alabama. That makes sense. No shit. Okay. Okay. well... Goodbye. You really have that asshole switch don't you? No wonder you're so great at getting a first date and couldn't get to a fourth without a passport and a map. They told me my passport would arrive in four to six weeks. Good luck with that.
Please allow me to guide you through the very complicated relationship I have with my feelings in relation to the University of Notre Dame. ND is a part of my family, nothing will ever change that fact. And nothing will make me not proud of it either.
My Grandfather graduated from the University
My Grandmother worked in its library.
That's where they met, fell in love, and married in the log cabin chapel* on its campus.
My Mom, the daughter of said Grandparents, is one of four kids that has three degrees from the University between them. One Uncle has two (undergrad & law) and my other Uncle the other. Although my Aunt didn't go there for school, she married a "Double Domer" (undergrad & grad, MBA I think but am not quite sure) and has three kids that graduated from the University as well. In fact, my Aunt's youngest child (my cousin just a year older than me) was able to baptize his first born at the log cabin chapel* a couple years ago. *yes, the same chapel
My Grandfather went on to work for the University. He managed "the A.C.C." (now called the Joyce Center), which is the twin domed building next to the football stadium: My Grandparents are actually both buried on campus, in the official Notre Dame cemetery.
Are you starting to get the point?
The bench dedicated to my Grandfather on campus.
My Father, Mother, MySister and I total zero degrees from the University of Notre Dame. But we weren't shunned from such awesome benefits such as MySister seeing her first concert (Loverboy), me seeing Sesame Street Live and the occasional awesome seats for a football game. Most significantly, my parents had their wedding ceremony in the Basilica. (Click here if you want to know what the hell a Basilica is, or here to just see where my parents got hitched)
Then I decided to attend Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I'm sure if you ask any ND fan, they wouldn't consider their relationship with MU a rivalry. Even though ND hasn't played anybody more in basketball than MU, their fans seem to think first and last with football. I used the fact that Marquette doesn't have a football team to proudly continue my fandom for the Irish while on campus at Marquette. Ask my college roommates to describe how passionate I was watching the games - they'll probably answer with an impersonation I assure you is not embellished.
Then my crazy fandom came to a crashing end in December 2002. Having graduated the previous May, I was thrilled to see that MU and ND had scheduled a game for ESPN's Big Monday (this was before MU joined the Big East - they now play yearly). At the time my Grandmother still had awesome basketball season tickets and I drove my Dad and I to South Bend. Dwyane Wade was starting to get noticed nationally and the new polls released that day had Marquette ranked #10 (the highest I have ever seen them ranked since I became a fan). We lost that game. My misery was capped off by the student section chanting "O-VER-RA-TED." I felt so awful I asked my Dad to drive my car home... Ever since that day, I've never been the same rooting for the Fightin' Irish. Even though that season Marquette went on to the Final Four, my strongest memory from that season was that awful night at the A.C.C. (I don't call it the Joyce Center).
Many people hate Notre Dame. Words like abhor and loathe could even be used. Reasons for people thinking this way are varied as a strong kinship with a fellow rival (such as Michigan) to an opinion that the institution is an example of entitlement and arrogance. Some hardcore pro-ND people even go as far as to believe the hatred is tied to the University's Catholic identity and know that some people just love to knock it... (They also like to cite jealousy, which of course doesn't improve the perception of others)
But some of the strongest fans of the University of Notre Dame that I know are family members I've known my entire life. I love them. Of course I'm biased. Sure, I'm know many people may have a conceited jerk at their company with Rudy as their screen saver - but that guy would've been a jerk no matter where he attended school. Not to mention, all schools have their pompous preachers. I like to judge my opinion on schools by the people that I've known from those schools. For example, I can't tell you how many people - great people - I keep meeting who are Purdue Boilermakers. It makes me root for their team more each year...
Incredibly long blog post story short: I have way too many great experiences with the University of Notre Dame to not be a fan of the place... The team, on the other hand, is another story as I have major reservations around its sports program not limited to rivalries with Marquette (I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the gigantic bag of wrong that led to the recent death of a student videographer.). Sadly, I know I have family members that think I root against ND - their interpretation of my lost 100% loyalty. However, my positive experiences outweigh any negativity.
Which is why, when offered a spare ticket to this Saturday's game at Notre Dame Stadium, I happily insta-accepted.
In closing, there is a quote from comic/actor Brian Posehn from when he was interviewed on the Nerdist Podcast (the 35th minute of episode 42 to be exact) that sums up how I feel about ND, how I like them, and how I don't really like it when other people hate on them...
"I love [heavy] Metal [music] like my retarded cousin... like I can make fun of them... but anybody else... don't make fun of my retarded cousin"
Q: What is the latest effort you want to support? A: A friend's new blog.
Not being sure how "public" my friend's new blog is - I won't share its web address here. I'll admit that I was shocked that this friend, an admitted social networking addict (addict at its best - consumed at it's worst), took this long to start blogging.
(For the record - "vlogs" wearing Twilight merchandise while gushing over tween actors does not count)
Nonetheless, I look forward to more posts. I read the first tonight which mentioned a book by the title: Divorced. Catholic. Now What?
Yet again I can't sleep tonight... I've started to think of other potential books that may be out there...
Single. Catholic. Are we there yet? Married. Parent. Is it over? Eat. Pray. Love? Attractive. Clueless. C'mon? Dude. Man. Dude. Woman. Traveler. Really?
and let me throw out one more for the Achievers: Natural. Zesty. Coitus?
Q: How much do I regret starting the motif of beginning these with a question. A: Tons.
(WARNING - my life has been a virtual barren tundra as of late, devoid of any misadventures or stories... The following is an insane amount of loose ends that have rattled their way out of my mind and onto my blog)
Tonight, at a stop light, a girl well in her early twenties yelled over and said - "You're cool!" I looked back and jokingly yelled back, "You rock" while giving a Thumbs Up gesture. Hours later, the entire incident is bringing my blood to a tepid boil. Seriously? C'mon. I didn't need that today.
I have a confession to make. The World Cup is a joy to watch. That's not the confession - the confession is that I have yet to be able to watch an entire contest from start to finish. The beautiful HD green, the lifeless British commentary, the hypnotic buzz of those horns - puts me to sleep. I love it. I wish these games were on at night. If there's a goal, I go back and rewind. I knew I'd enjoy this year's World Cup, but not like this.
For the first time... ever... I wore a sweater vest. It was really for a comedic joke five years in the making. You see, after five years at my company you become fully "vested" in the pension plan. I decided to take this financial status quite literally today. These sweater vests are very popular, especially around my office. Many golfers prefer them as well. I can't help but think they look like life preservers. Wearing one made me feel like I was waiting on a dock looking for a jet ski. To those that like wearing sweater vests - who like the medium level of warmth while freeing up your limbs to be limber - I'm happy for you. Please don't take offense. The only people that should be offended about my displeasure of sweater vests are my family. I once made a stupid scene rejecting a sweater vest gift.
The new season of kickball, under new management (read: not me), started with a win by the score of 5 to 0. For the first time, I wasn't Captain and wasn't kicking last in the lineup. I got a single my first time up and scored one of our runs. Not to mention I had a good day in the field, making the first peg-out of the season. The move of finding someone to replace me as team leader is the early leader for best social move of 2010.
Did you hear that Manute Bol died?
If I decide to start another godawful blog, it's going to be dedicated to Pulled Pork Sandwiches. I've been eating a ridiculous amount of these over the past two years. It's almost gotten to the point that I'm opening up a menu just to find it. I could write about the sandwich at Russells, then a post about this local joint called Wally's. How do the Brew Pub efforts stand up? Thankfully, I don't think Portillo's has this on their menu. If they did, someone may have to call the CDC 'cause I'd be eating there in epidemic proportions.
Portillos, for better or worse, is becoming one of my most favorite restaurants. I can sincerely (in other words, sadly) say that the last 5 times I've been there I've had 5 different items. I can probably go the next 5 times and continue the unique ordering. I usually don't act this way at restaurants.
I spent over a half hour tonight in silence sitting on my porch during the rain. For those that don't know, there's an overhang that keeps me somewhat shielded from the elements. I meant for it to be a calming action, but I had trouble ridding my mind of irritating thoughts. Guys who are pricks, Girls who are clueless, powers that... It was a mental ramble of disorienting proportions. The conclusion I gave myself, which is one that I've arrived at before, is that I over-analyze many stupid things. Most of which I end up being harshly self critical. It costs me precious confidence when I get like that.
When I can't quickly find a playlist that I want to listen to, I know I'm in for a bad day. I'm overdue for a new chill out album. In the meantime, I'll throw on The xx album again and dull the edge I've been riding.
I'm halfway through Dexter. (I have now seen the first two of it's so far four seasons) You gotta love the recent innovations of streaming NetFlix to your TV. I hope it catches on and more titles (such as Dexter season 3) become available through that vessel.
The other day I used the term "effortless beauty" to describe a very attractive woman to two close friends. This statement, or maybe the fact that I said it, was called out and discussed. I tried to reinforce how attractive I find the concept of "low maintenance." Is this a manifestation of my laziness? I don't know. If I knew how to play an acoustic guitar I may consider writing a song about that effortless beauty. Lyrics would include her gym workouts featuring clothes not color coordinated, yet matched on a different plane of consciousness. The chorus of the song would include a two step cadence that would balance her approachability and distance. The song would become featured on a myriad of MTV non-competition based reality programming.
Here's an idea - I want to sit in a bar with a tip jar offering slogans for a nominal fee. If you want a name for your fantasy football team - drop in a buck. How about a nickname for someone you just met? Maybe these strangers would just want a single word to describe a painting they are considering. I think I'd be okay in that vibe. Just casually minding my own business until called upon to write on the stack of colored 4 x 6 note cards piled just off center on the table. Examples might include "Squeeze me Jesus!" "Jones and Juice" "Hyperbolic" "Moop"
The last time I was at my barber I asked him if he knows how often I go in between hair cuts? I felt stupid asking. I've been deciding on when to go cut my hair for quite a while now, shouldn't I know this? It seems lately I play something like a game of chicken with my hair - in which I let it keep growing to the point that I can no longer deal with it and need it chopped. It's either that strategy or I see an event on the calendar that would require optimal hair. Such an event is coming up somewhat soon, and I had to have a crazy inner monologue weighing if I could wait the extra weeks or not.
At what point are you locked in for the rest of your life with a hairstyle? I think I've gone through about 5 or 6 in my 31 years. I wonder if me at 51 will have some kind of odd side part, like the 1993 version of me. Of course, my hair could always start falling out - that would be a game changer. My Dad has been modeling the "ring around the scalp" look going on over 50 years now.
It's been a while since I've bought a pair of shoes. I just typed that with a sense of accomplishment. A couple years ago, I began to wonder if I should be concerned at the number of shoes I owned. It was nothing that required a documentary feature, but the pairs were starting to add up as my life boringly diversified (black dress, brown dress, casual non athletic, casual athletic, basketball only, golf only, outdoor basketball only, Misc. Crap Footwear). Sometimes I miss the days when feet grew - when getting new shoes was a fun necessity, not a chore. Once upon a time I was unable to walk past a Foot Locker without looking at every single shoe for sale theorizing of what my feet could grow into next. Now I wear shoes until the literally fall off my feet into shards of debris. Pretty soon I'm going to be one of those people that buy multiple pairs of the same shoes. I already wish I had did it because I want the exact same shoes again - and in one case, regret a recent "downgrade" every time I drag'em over to my socked feet.
Decided tonight: every bedroom of my future will require a ceiling fan. This is now a necessity to my life.
Q: What time is it? A: Time for a seemingly endless string of random thoughts! (Television edition)
Every week, someone dies in Justified. Attack of the Show, how I've missed you. Modern Family, is too ribald, for my Old Fashioned Family. (but they love it) Frisky Dingo has been the find of 2010, if that's possible because the episodes I'm seeing are from years ago. Kanye West's Storytellers performance was amazing, and I don't mean like O.J. I'm enjoying watching The Office again (BBC). I'm regretting watching The Office again (NBC). Where did Elimidate go? (oh, it's on ABC now, has hour long episodes, and is "classy" riiiight) If CBS was a coloring book, everything would be colored inside the lines - FX on the other hand? I used to be proud that I watched It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which is now changing due in ZERO part to the show itself. Can somebody, anybody, give me an alternative to Sportscenter? There's no way to justify the fact that I'm recording Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job. Only one episode of Damages left before the Season Finale? - why is this show, and Lost, not including finales in their countdown? V, you better watch yourself before you wreck yourself. Memo to Palladia: please show your Coachella program again? Please? Stupid 24. Stupid, stupid 24! SNL, is anybody even paying attention to you now? Who's idea was it to make The Masters in 3-D? Will John Daly's pants be there?
Q: what's on my mind tonight A: nothing well organized
Random News & Notes Time: I enjoy "Pants on the Ground" My Dad has been taught the CORRECT lyrics Maids were paid to clean my condo last Friday They said, "oh dios mio" multiple times I failed in asking a girl out recently Thankfully, it probably saved me more than I know The last album I bought stunk There is no satisfaction from not listening to it again
(Like how you can say eF off by ejecting a NetFlix) (or slapping a book closed and can move to another one quick)
There was a "Gilbert Arenas" moment at work Obviously I can't say more here Soon I will be Lost again I'm glad it's moving to Tuesdays Damages is also back Depositions can't be that interesting in real life A year ago I had Jury Duty Should I be ashamed that I miss it I no longer want to see RJD2 live But I want to see Yeasayer more My Toyota has been known to go fast Not because of anything requiring a recall When I was a kid, I loved Pee Wee Herman As an adult, I still do
I haven't remembered a dream in a very long time It's not for lack of trying I envision elaborate scenarios late at night Conversations that will never happen and bank robberies Basketball is a joy with decent folk Cards as well I can't play Bball with pricks But I don't mind poker with a'holes If I had a drum set, I'd want it as small as Ringo's The guitar of my dreams would be oversized
By the way, the last two posts were typed on my phone In both cases, a full keyboard was less than 5 ft away
It's one am, do you know where your day end When your alarm goes off, how loud is it Recently I gave blood again I've been spilling it since before the Vampire craze Minor setback Major minor
Apologies for the time waste Good night and good riddance
(it's been a long time since I wrote bad poetry. this post isn't for everyone. it's barely even for me. just wanted to experiment a little with syllables and space. i actually have some fresh random stories to share, but didn't feel like composing those tonight. just stay tuned)
My mother is far from good health right now My sister is stuggling as well there My father is tremendously stronger Than I can ever imagine or hope
To be because I am selfish and poor Of spirit, stamina, patience and poise I lie awake with dumb inner concerns But tonight I think of them fighting hard
While I watch football drink beer and listen To podcasts and new purchases alone Successfully isolating myself Until I have to face the night and The
Next day when I will be working again But they are surviving throughout it all I call with nothing to say or report They paint a picture they think is calming
But I see it when I'm visiting them And when I last left I realized that It's never been worse for them than right now And I've never been better on paper.
I don't feel guilty because I think they Need a win right now and I make them smile My life brings some laughter and escape Albeit very marginal to most
No wife and no kids is not a problem No grad degree or fancy car is fine They don't want more from me when I ask it But they deserve more than my content life
This may be the first time they need me more It's why I feel bad "nothing is new" for me No correct answer or response exists My mind, although stronger, is still hurting
Q: How do you know when a vacation starts, and ends? A: Besides the normal punch out - punch in routine...
I'm feeling higher than a weather balloon right now. It's 2:00 am. I just set my alarm for 5:00 am. My Dad's gonna pick me up at 6 am to take me to the airport. Vegas Vegas Vegas Vegas Vegas Vegas Vegas
So right now, this moment, I feel like I'm on vacation. Not at all upset that I'm starring down the barrel of yet another Sunday Night Insomnia fest!
To be technically accurate, vacations are bookmarked by actual work. From the time you leave the office until the time 0bligated to return - that's a vacation.
But for me, and Vegas Vacations especially, the bookends are my trips to the bank. I'm thinking positive here.
Yesterday I made my annual withdraw from my bank. Cash bitch. I'm not using Traveler's Checks this time. The point is - I hope my vacation ends with a deposit to the same bank.
I've got my daily budget. Multiplied it by two. Took out an extra segment for incidentals. Non credit cardable taxis, food, tips... the like.
The iPod is charged up and in my carry on... My phone is getting there... Recharging accessories packed as well...
Bring.
It.
On.
And now I'm listening to Kylie when I should be charging myself.
Q: Is it 3 am? A: It's time for awful late night poetry!
Opportunity knocks. On a house with more than one door.
Open one. Locking all others.
Inaction is an action. Comprehension confirms the choice.
Sometimes the knock changes. Creating doubts of its existence.
Worse, it was never a knock. Everything outside becomes more foreign.
What is better? Living under a good fantasy or realization of an actual helll?
The sun won't keep you warm on a cold day The night can't shield you from the nearby day.
That knocking is a beat. Reminicent of Poe's heart.
But it's vital. It keeps you alive.
Breathe. Knock.
How often is movement violent? Gracefulness disguised as deviousness? An eloborate elegance playing on the good natured. All to hoping for it to be without alterior motives. An accidental coincidence through accurate chaos. Assured calamity thanks to assumed consent. A soap opera full of dirt.
Single women like to dance Opportunitic men have a way to romance
My mind has trouble figuring out the simplest ideas such as turning itself off in an effort to stop considering the infinate potential combinations of how my social surroundings will challenge me in the next stage of a mision I gave yet to comprehend much less succeed especially when it's more than proven that over 99% of my anxiety never manifests.
another banquet celebrating the dedicated & enlightened.
Q: If you were raised by Dan Quiery, what fills you with a sense of pride? A: The successful inclusion of Public Transportation into your itinerary.
I understand that the following story will sound fruitless to most. But most weren't raised by my Father. My Dad loves Public Transportation. He's one of its stronger advocates.
Tonight I did him proud. And I have to admit, this fills me with a sense of accomplishment.
Tonight I came home from work. I relaxed. Watched one of my favorite TV shows, The Soup, at 9pm. After the show ended at 9:30 I got up and left my condo. Walked the few blocks to the Metra station in downtown Des Plaines. Less than five minutes later, the train arrived to wisk me into the City Proper.
I got off at the Irving Park stop. Briskfully walked across the street and up the escalator to the CTA platform. Easily, without a doubt, it was the shortest time I ever had to wait for a train. About four stops later I'm off the train again at the corner of California and Milwaukee.
It was a nice November evening in Chicago today. About fifty degrees. Just warm enough to warrant me going jacketless tonight. Long sleeves served just fine.
Less than twenty minutes later, up California to the north, and over Fullerton walking east, I had arrived at my destination for the night.
A few beverages with a couple friends. Ears willing to help me decompress my latest drama. A roast beef sandwich on top. Not to mention, a few tunes from a local band.... And I'm off...
This time west on Fullerton and south on California. The wait at the eL stop was a little longer than I would've liked now (just after 12:15 am). A quick hustle back across the street at the Irving Park stops provided the night's only true drama.
But fear not, I was able to catch the very last outbound train. Promptly at 12:43 am. Bringing me back to downtown Des Plaines some fifteen minutes ago at 1:04. Allowing me to be blogging in front of my computer by 1:15.
By the time I have finished this post, it's 1:30. Exactly four hours from the time I left here. I feel like I hit the town with the precision of a sniper.
What did I actually accomplish? Not much.
But it was better than what I did yesterday: Watch Road House on DVD.
At work today, I decided to listen to a live concert by The Frames. This is the song that started the first encore:
It stopped me in my tracks. I sat motionless in my cube. Transfixed by the sound. It's not a popular song, there is no official music video for it. I embedded a video of the best version from a concert goer. (For those of you not reading on the actual blog, but on facebook, here's the link:) The video is from a performance in Belgium nearly two years ago.
As you know, I enjoy going to concerts. Live music has become a newfound passion of mine. But there have been two new advancements that almost replace it entirely. One is HDTV - my friend has access to this amazing VH-1 offshoot channel that has programming that makes me druel. The second is NPR's All Songs Considered Live Concert Podcast - with as much emphasis as this medium allows, I strongly insist that you check out their website to see the massive list of concerts available (all for free, all in great podcast quality)
There are many aspects of concerts many don't like. The cost, the crowds, the general feeling of non comfort, the realization that you are one of the older ones in attendance, the sound quality, the inferior opening acts... the list can go on... If you aren't willing, or don't care, to fight any of these perils check out that NPR podcast. You'll see tons of bands you've never heard of - have fun exploring.
That being said, I'm going to the House of Blues this Sunday Night. I bought the ticket not checking the National Football League Regular Season Schedule. It's directly opposite a Chicago Football Bears Football Game. Damnit. The band is Mute Math, or MUTEMATH (as iTunes chooses to list them on their latest album). For the record, the HOB is one of, if the THE, best music venue in the greater Chicago area.
I was asked if I wanted to go to another show next month. Thankfully, I have since uploaded the Bear schedule into my calendar. Yes, the concert proposed was on a Thursday - but it happens to be a Bear Thursday Night NFL special game! Lesson Learned / No Concert (Besides, it was for an act I have already seen live before)
I've been feeling real active and real good lately. Last night I played kickball (my team won) Tonight I played basketball - and let me tell you about the joy of my Wednesday Night Basketball group...
Shirts vs Shirts We collect canned goods for my parish's food pantry No pricks Tonight we had exactly ten show up We played four games My team lost the first two games That first game - I didn't make a single shot
Then it started getting hot in the gym. Primarily me.
I try to be somewhat modest Which, directly contradicts the whole venture of blog writing. But I really want to say how good I feel that I was hitting deep shots tonight. And these just weren't open looks - closely guarded rise and release bombs. If I pat myself on the back any harder, I'll hurt my hand and won't be able to finish typing...
Tomorrow night is a rehearsal dinner. I've been an usher. I've been a groomsman And now, for the first time, I've been asked to get up and read one of the Readings.
As with all these, I truly feel honored to be included in these events.
But let me say that I think this latest gig is the best most sweet setup to date. No Tux Rental, Hardly any responsibilities, and I get all the benefits of getting to go to the rehearsal dinner! Oh, and I bet I got an upgrade as far as the reception seating is concerned.
My connection is with the Bride - I've known her for over 25 years and grew up less than two blocks away back in the less than charming, less than urban, suburb of Prospect Heights. The rehearsal is on a Thurssday, the Wedding on a Saturday.
By the way, the rehearsal dinner will be at Lou Malnati's! How infinitely awesome is that?
I'll be using that Friday as a rest day.
Sunday Night is the aforementioned concert.
Monday Night I am meeting two friends in town from Cleveland for dinner downtown. I met this duo at Lebowski Fest two years ago. This dinner will further by belief that my obsession with The Big Lebowski has yielded more to my life than just an unhealthy amount of trivia knowledge and a penchant for quoting the film regardless of listener comprehension.
Tuesday night is Kickball Playoffs bitch!
And then we're back to one week from tonight: another late night Wednesday basketball run.
-- Unclassified Random Note Section -- Have I mentioned that I am done dating strangers? And strange women? It's true, I've tried that route more than my share. I think I may be a worse person because of it. If there's another stranger I want to date, I need to get to know her first. Yeah, it seems so crazy that I actually had to realize that.
I'm going into the much maligned Wrigleyville next weekend. Someone's got a birthday. Potentially one of the nicest people I know, a genuinely good citizen of the planet. I've only known him for about two years, and I hate to sound all man crush like but the more I get to know him the more I appreciate knowing him. It'll be great to be able to wish him a proper birthday alongside people who know him much better than I.
Someone who is ten years older than me gave me the following advice shortly before I began working 40+ hours a week for the rest of my life: "If someone asks me for help, I always try - even if I'm not able to help out, it creates a great perception of you in others." I try to follow this, even today. It's great advice. Especially if it's not my job I like being someone asked for help. Sometimes I know I'm being used, but it's tough for me to say no. The day they stop coming you for help may be the day they stop needing you.
Baskin Robbins, or 31 flavors - whatever, needs a better milkshake. I got one today, and it was nearly pure liquid ice cream. It's called viscosity BR31. You're lucky you don't puncture a lung trying to get the Steak & Shake product up the straw. But S&S is overkill - give me the Oberweiss milkshake. Tonight I actually considered obtaining a blender. Take this shake venture into my own hands. However, that blender route could lead to weight I don't want.
Speaking of weight, another person I know started Seattle Sutton. I've been off it for a loooong time now. Kinda treading water at a weight larger than I want, but someone content in the fact that I'm not where I was...
The following statement is not an embellishment: When I come home from work, insert my key into the lock, I fear that there will be a hole in my ceiling. The roof situation in my condo building is beyond reason and I've lost all confidence in it's future. Bascially, I'm preparing for major damage to inflict my quality of life. Just, please, don't wreck my new couch. The only good thing: it's making me not want to get a new TV because I'm afraid it will get snowed upon!
The stupidest thing I did today was take a spoon and shovel out a large portion of mashed potatoes onto my plate only to realize it was hummus less than a minute later. If I'm on death row, my last meal will include Mashed Potatoes.
I realize it's important to stay current with the News. Talking politics exists in a stratosphere beyond brutal. Being in the midst of a discussion with people who don't agree with you is infuriating. As it can also be with people that agree with you. The whole venture seems pointless to me. None of us are running for public office. I haven't ever heard someone say, "that's a good point, I'll reconsider my stance." It seems we're just arming ourselves to be better fighters for our next argument.
Time to listen to that violin solo one more time before my next failed slumber attempt.
Q: Do you ever look back into your e-mails to see what was on your mind a year ago? A: In my case, I tend to look at old blog posts (below is "More disconnected thoughts from the sleepless" originally posted October 9, 2007 on MySpace's now defunct View de TQ blog)
Finally acquired the new Kanye album from a coworkin' friend - now I'm really looking forward to my return to live Hip-Hop this Halloween at the House of Blues (Lupe Fiasco)
Mr. Thomas Brady, the quarterback of the New England Football Patriots - please continue your excellence - my fantasy (football team) is coming true.
This Saturday I will be in a tuxedo for only the third time of my life. Skip, you're worth it.
I was invited to go out to a couple gay bars last Saturday. Decided to play poker instead (no pun intended).
For the first time in my life, the hours between 8 am and 5 pm seem to be in better order than anytime after 5 pm. I do not like that fact.
A little over a week ago a friend asked, "did she have a ring on her finger." I didn't know the answer. I used to be pretty much on top of that - what does it say about me that I'm not even taking the effort to check anymore? (assuming it's there either in reality or in theory)
Very recently I was asked "Do you still play basketball?" I had to pause. "It's not a tough question." was the follow up comment. No it's not, but why am I making it tough? Sure, I used the whole face-breaking incident as a fall back excuse, but that's not it
Every other commercial is for a film I really want to see.
I may soon set a record: most money spent at Costco without showing (let alone owning) a Costco Membership card.
Explaining what I do for a living is difficult to say in under 7 minutes. That has to be boring to all else but me.
Yes the Bears won, but let's still start talkin' Bulls.
Nothing made me happier last month that listening to my Father's stories from his first visit to Ireland - this is saying a lot because September was very good to me. In fact, September 2006 was the best month of my life ever, and Sept 07 was a very nice follow up act.
Even if you understand - you may not comprehend.
Nip/Tuck is commin' back... It's gonna be worse than ever before (and that means I'll only want to watch it more)
Friday Night Lights is already back... It's going to continue to be as good as it was (and that means nobody will want to watch it)
I think Rexy will be Sexy elsewhere very soon. And I hope he leaves. Chicago was so poor to him, and yet I still believe in him... He deserves better - and I will continue to root for him.
Eddy Curry got hurt today. I care less about that individual.
In the beginnings of a major upset to my popular opinion - I am starting to wonder if raising a daughter would be an easier proposition than a son. This is classic beyond issue worrying.
3 AM Eternal, as I look at the clock right now, only makes me think of one thing.... not the amount of time I have left to rest... I can only think of the classic late 80s track by The KLF. Paging Mr. iTunes.
Q: Two night ago, when I couldn't sleep, did I scheme about how to elope in Vegas? A: No, this time it was another scenario just as crazy.
I don't know what caused my mind to get on the track it did the other night. For the record, it before I was prescribed that codeine strength cough syrup. However, it was the cough that kept me awake - and I had to figure something to do with my mind besides counting the seconds in between coughs.
The following is a fictitious monologue. A talk between a father and his child about the dangers of drug abuse. I think it's the way I'd want to tell a kid if I ever had to have one of these talks.
Obviously, I don't have any kids - and this talk is quite a ways away (if it even happens at all is as much a mystery). But if I were to ever become a Father - it's definitely a talk that would have to happen:
* * * Hey, do you mind if I turn off the TV for a moment? Yeah, I know it's not called that - but TV is just so quick to say - and easier than Interactive Envrino-Holo-Globe-a-tron... I just want your undivided attention for a moment. Yeah, if you could turn that off too I'd be great... Uh huh that as well. Okay? Good.
(Deep breath)
I wa-... need to talk to you about drugs.
Yes, good, I'm glad that you've had a lot of talk in schools. But I want to focus on something that's not quite talked about in schools. Well, first off, have you been offered drugs?
By anyone?
Even friends?
(deep sigh of relief)
That's wonderful. That's going to help me fall asleep better tonight, believe me. But something that usually keeps me awake is that first time you'll be asked.
No, no. It will happen. I'm very certain and positive about it. You have friends. You're a cool guy that's going to meet a lot of people between now and then. But that's not necessarily a bad thing.
I have been offered drugs before. Not when I was as young as you are now...
(pause for thought)
Well, I think I was 19. Which, even by that era, was remarkably late in my life. I'd jump through flaming hoops in excitement if nobody offers you drugs between now and when you turn 19 - but I don't think that's likely... It's why I want to have this talk now.
I need to get to you first.
I was lucky. That time, when I was 19, it was a complete stranger at a concert in Milwaukee. So when a guy you never met, offers you something, it's very easy to refuse. But you won't be able to decide your own story.
It could come from your best friend at the time - someone who you might not have even met yet right now. It could also come from someone who you would want to be a good friend. A person you respect, and want to be like. Even someone you may think you are in love with. Those will be the more difficult situations that when I had to decide.
They told you this in school? Really? Ok, good. Did they talk about why people use drugs? Okay, that's true - that's true. But there's another reason why people use drugs - probably the most important of all.
Drugs work. They are very powerful and have a goal, which is almost always accomplished. They are, without question, a model of precision science at work. People who use drugs love them. It feels good to them. They were feeling bad before, and feel better because of these drugs.
It's like when you're hungry. You have that bad feeling, and you want something... like pizza - right? After the pizza, you feel good - so good you want more pizza and could even want your friends to have that too.
That bad feeling is a good thing - because it lets you know that you need food. The purpose of all drugs, even the good ones a doctor may give you, is to change what you are feeling. It's why we trust doctors to give us medicine, they are smart enough to know what these bad feelings are signaling.
But let's say you're hungry - very hungry - and there's no pizza anywhere... I mean, you're so hungry you'd even have that old Pea Soup recipe from Grandmother - but nothing was around... And let's say someone offers you a small pill with the promise that you won't feel hungry after you swallow it...
The thing is, that pill won't make you feel hungry anymore. It will work. But the reason you were hungry in the first place is because you needed food - and that pill didn't change the situation. But for the moment, you don't feel hungry so it's easy to think you're not hungry and don't need food. Think about what would happen if you never ate again? Yes, it's scary. Every day people die because they don't realize - or feel that - they are hungry and need food.
The point I'm trying to make in all this is that it's not as important what drugs are out there, or what people are out there to offer you drugs... What's very, very important is to know why people are using drugs.
These are the thoughts I hope go through your mind when you are offered drugs. To think about why people would use that drug... Because, and I know this sounds like Dad-talk, drugs aren't the answer.
If you are hungry, you know to come to me letting me know - right? Just like you did about two hours ago? You know you can come to me if you have any bad feeling, right? That's why I'm here - to help you through stuff like that.
I'm supposed to feed you if you're hungry. I'm supposed to protect you if you feel unsafe. I'm supposed to be here if you need something... ... and there are plenty of other people, like if I'm out of town, that love you and are just as willing as I to help.
Okay, okay - I won't lecture you anymore... But this talk may be over now, tonight, but this discussion... this conversation... is not over. If you ever feel bad, so bad that you don't know how to change it, please come to me - so we can talk about it.
I'm an option. I trust you. I know you're a smart kid and will make a good choice. Please just consider why others may have to use drugs, and realize that because I - and so many other people love you - that you have more options than they do.
Q: Should I maybe still ask her out? A: ...as a way of formally starting the comparison shopping?
The consensus is saying I need to cultivate this friendship. Right now we aren't quite friends. She is also dating "someone." By my deduction, for less than 3 months.
On multiple occasions I have heard, "we were just friends before we got married." However, all these friendships were during school years.
I am seriously considering a ban on dating until I get my MBA. The thought of other single professionals in a classroom appeals to me. It may be, to borrow a Top Gun phrase, a Target Rich Environment. Not to mention, a guy with a graduate degree is more attractive to some. That is code for "women like money"
Only one thing exists that Women like more than the concept of a rich husband: travel.
That is because, in my opinion, a rich man can more easily provide access to travel.
Back to "Target." I am very relieved that I found out a while ago that she's dating somebody. Because lately she has turned the volume up on our quazi-friendship. These signs could've been horribly misinterpreted.
Or maybe she wants them misinterpreted? Does she want a fight for her love? Could I only be as attractive as the grass on the other side of the fence?
Have I ever mentioned that when it comes to women, and reading their signs, I am LOST?
Q: What makes you lost? A: It is not just not knowing your location, it's also not knowing where you are going.
2:35 AM is the time right now. This subject is something that I have wanted to write for a while. It has kept me up at night. Especially tonight.
My old boss at my old job was into The Boy Scouts. Long after his son had gone to and graduated from college my old boss remained active in the organization. The following is either the only tenent of Boy Scouts I remembered, or respected enough to still know. Lord knows I heard a lot about that gang.
THE FIRST RULE OF NEVER GETTING LOST IS KNOWING WHERE YOU ARE AT ALL TIMES.
Boy Scouts don't get lost from superior map reading or compass operating skills. They aren't supposed to take one step that isn't known where they were and where they're going.
Remembering this ideal has led me to conclude that I am LOST when it comes to women.
I look over all the dates I've been on during these past 3 or 4 years and can truthfully say I never knew where I was with them the entire time. There us nothing that I can think of that can change this. I am incopetent at reading any signs from the opposite sex (as if they were a map). More importantly, any direct information cannot be trusted (no magnetic North to get a compass reading)
Examples: "cute" is no longer a compliment. I have heard the same girl call the following things "cute" in the same night: a basket full of dinner rolls, a woman over the age of 70, a leached dog, myself, her own purse and a ringtone.
Lies are polite. A woman will look me dead in the eye and convincingly express a desire to see me again. This is the path of least resistance, and least awkward, for these types instead of the truth.
The lines separating assertive and agressive, humility and honesty, sensitive and sissy, debonair and douchebag are diffrent for everybody. Some girls like to be right on the edge of these lines. It might be the epicenter of the near universal BADBOY appeal glitch in their biology. Sadly, I only discover these lines after they are irreversably crossed.
Girls will always be more coordinated. Their expressed desire to "quit playing games" is bait for guys like me. On a similar note: everything matters to them. The girl who says money or looks aren't important just hasn't been tested yet. Find me the girl who would pick Screech over Zack Morris if given the choice. And one who won't be more impressed by a large bouquet of flowers than just the card that would have come with it.
To circle back to this poor excuse of an extended metaphor, I don't know what I need to change. The simple response would be that I am in the wrong Forrest. That all the maps in that area are spotty at best. That I need to find a trustwothy woman who is an adult, and that is capable of co-navigating a voyage. One that won't leave me with a busted GPS on the side of an apocolyptic road.
That place, where the good women are, is undeachable. It either fails to exist or I lack the documentation required to travel there. Or worse, I was there already and left empty handed never to return.
This is what I mean by that last comment: Did I screw up in college not leaving with an eventual wife? All those kids that flung engagement Hail Marys, the ones I mocked, must have realized something I did not. Earlier tonight, I played basketball, and I played poorly. Playing basketball is what I ended up doing instead of dating for my college life. Was that a wrong choice?
I also don't know how to interpret the fact that the girls I am most attracted to are the least plausible options (for various reasons I can't elaborate). It can't be as simple as a being a built in reason for preventing me from trying - in a twisted hurt prevention strategy. Because if that was the case, I would have avoided every single one of my past (who knows the number) dates.
I wanted to believe I was an open minded guy.
I wanted to believe that everyone had a chance. There were times when I thought too much Of course there were times I wasn't thinking at all.
It's almost one hour later from when I began writing this post. All with one specific person in mind. I have envisioned ten diffrent ways of asking her out. None of them seem natural. Even when I dream of my word choice being perfect, I can't help but antcipate the awkward avalanche all but assured will ensue.
All I know is that I am here, and she is there. As soon as I approach her I will lose my bearings and become lost.
In my personal understanding of physics, it is unable to stay in the same place on a planet that keeps spinning on it's axis and revolving around the Sun.
My plan is to try to keep spinning without losing my place and hope our orbits intersect.
(final note: I apologize for ranting to this degree. Unless you are one of those people who never have problems falling asleep - you have a charmed existence)
