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Wednesday, December 22, 2004Weekend full of run-of-the-mill excitement!
So I went out and had a lot of fun this weekend, and was really looking forwarding to telling you all about it, but now that I look back on it, it was all your standard run-of-the-mill (should that be hyphenated? I'm not sure, but when in doubt hyphenate I always say) good time.
Let's see I played some golf on Saturday, full of blah's there 18 holes of nothing (seriously you should've seen me play) and a bunch of drinks at the end. Ended up going with some friends to city, we ate at your standard bar/pub place, went to your average Joe Schmo Bar (I think it was called Kels), and then ended up getting kicked out of the same party twice and then finally being let in once our friends who lived there showed up. I even met some interesting people at this party, a couple of brothers from Austin, TX, a "brother" in the Marines who specializes in Space Exploration Technology (we talked about terraforming Mars for like an hour, yeah I'm a nerd who told you otherwise), and some sisters with a really nice apartment from New York (apartment is here, not NY). But, it's all nothing to write home about. We were supposed to stay on a friends boat that night, but as usual it was filled with 6 inches of water, so I stayed with 3 girls whose names all rhymed (if I had a dollar for everytime that has happened). We even had a couple of suicidal cabbies that night, but seriously, what cabbie isn't. And of course no weekend is complete without your routine Sunday morning BART ride home.
So overall I had a lot of fun this weekend, but I've just bored you all to tears with the incredible monotony of my life. I'd like to say that this was all new and exciting, and it was for me, but I'm sure you've heard it all before. Unfortunately, there were no chastising candy bar wrappers, car thefts, or shameless self promotions to report on. So Kelly T, I say to you, even getting out of the house and doing things do not create good stories. But stay tuned, because Sunday, I was on the couch watching E! True Hollywood Story when all of a sudden...
"So much of our time is spent in preparation, so much in routine, and so much in retrospect, that the amount of each person's genius is confined to a very few hours."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thursday, December 16, 2004Snack break leads to downward spiral of depression.
So after much debate as to what to get on my snack break, I decided on a Snickers, hoping that it would indeed satisfy. I get back to my cozy little cube, pop open my Pepsi and prepare for salacious delight. I tear open the candy bar and am met with a disheartening message. "Sorry, You are not a winner." I was disheartened. My mom always said I was cool, but what do mom's know. I always had a suspicion deep down inside that I was indeed a loser, but I never expected my fears to be confirmed by a chocalate, peanut and caramel combination. I dejectedly went back to work, fearing that others would soon realize what a "not winner" I was.
Apparently, the purchase of this candy bar had entered me into some type of contest which I wasn't aware of and didn't win, and once my fragile self realized that, I felt much better. Turns out I'm a loser of Super Bowl tickets, which I guess is ok, though I would've liked to see a nipple live this year, but the jury is still out on whether I'm a winner or loser in life. My co-worker assured me I am loser, I hope she was talking about the tickets.
And to answer the question I know you are all wanting to ask, "Did it satisfy?" Its hard to tell if that's a tummy full of satisfaction or a life full of regret I'm feeling right now. Maybe I should let someone who knows more than me answer....
"Satisfaction lies in the effort, not in the attainment, full effort is full victory."
"People inflict pain on others in the selfish pursuit of their own happiness or satisfaction."
Ok, so this happened quite a while ago, but everyone just seems to love the story so I felt I should post it so the world could laugh with me... or at me... you decide. I guess it depends on whether or not I'm laughing... which I am... or was... or something.
1st BAR (Sobriety level: low)
So I hanging out at bar with some co-workers after work and happen to notice this rowdy group of cute girls a couple of tables over. Well, obviously I was drunk at this point or there is no way I would've gone over to talk to them. They seemed to be vigorously enjoying their libations as well and I ended up sitting with them and talking. Turns out Liz had just graduated college and they were all out celebrating. There were four of them Liz, a girl who insisted her name was Penelope, and two others who I don't seem to recall. I quickly managed to impress the two I don't remember with my humor, and piss off Liz by quickly stereotyping her as a rich daddy's girl who will only make HER world a better place. Well, through the course of the evening many different ideas were discussed, one of which was going to the City (San Francisco is always just "the City") and luckily just as many were rejected. So Liz is finally fed up with the whole affair and asks if I can give them a ride home. I, of course, am very amenable to this idea and Liz, "Penelope" and I head off the car. Once we load up "Penelope" and I begin to make out, as one naturally does. Liz gets impatient and we take off. Now they are hungry so we head for the local "only when drunk" pizza place and it, of course, is closed. So while deciding what we should do, "Penelope" and I begin making out again at which point she decidely declared, and I quote, "I want to lick your penis!" I almost laughed, but didn't. Not because of what she wanted to do, but how she said it. Girls, though us guys will always appreciate the sentiment, there are much, much... much better ways to say that. Needless to say, with her friend in the car, parked on a main street, the act in question did not occur, but we did decide to meet their other two nameless friends at a bar nearby.
AT THE 2nd BAR (Sobriety level: rising)
Well, almost as soon as we get in the second bar Liz decides she is tired and asks if she can go lay down in my car. She seems like a very nice girl so I oblige her request and hand her my keys. We all are talking and drink and I notice that "Penelope" has begun talking to, and hanging on another guy. Which is fine, we've only kissed, I don't own her. But my fun level has decidely dropped and I decide to make my goodbyes and take Liz home. As I'm leaving the bar I notice "Penelope" (ok, so I know her real name, but this more fun) and her new beau heading towards my car, which contains not only a drunk Liz, but also my keys. So I quickly double time and arrive at the car just as he is getting settled in the driver's seat. Me, being the big strong tough guy that I am (ok seriously, its hard to type with all the laughing) open the door and say, oh so politely, "Would you please get out of my car!" He confirms with her that this is indeed my car and steps out. I get in and ask Liz for my keys, and she drunkenly asks "Who are you?" Which restored some of my confidence in this drunken Liz, as she was at least performing some kind of security check before handing over the keys. I confirmed my identity and she hands over the keys and we make our exit. "Penelope" is still hungry and starts listing off places we can go, I assure her that her chauffer service is over and she is indeed going home.
HOME (Sobriety level: Could I be any more sober?)
So we pull up to this nice house in a ritzy area. Liz asks if I would like to come in for some water or something and is surprised when I say yes. So as we step in I look around and at the very nice house and jokingly remark, "Wow, this is nice, is this your parents house or something?" To which Liz replies affirmatively and to be quiet as they are sleeping in the back room. I then quickly drink my water and then hastily make my exit. (stage left, ev-en)
So I'm sure there was a lesson I could've learned in there, but I refuse to learn from my mistakes, and therefore am happily doomed to repeat them.
"Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes."
-Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan, 1892, Act III
Tuesday, December 14, 2004Denial of Masculinity and Vets with shovels
So, my roommate and I have had this problem of medium size rats roaming our neighbors garage and tragically venturing into our backyard. I say tragically because the rats always end up caught by our dogs. (a lab, a rottweiler and my border collie)
So the evening is usually going well, we'll be watching TV or cooking dinner and the dogs will come tromping into the living room with a toy in their mouth. Then to our surprise they will drop a huge rat right in front of us. Of course, I will usually scream from shock and surprise, my roommate will go running into another room and I am left with the unsavory task of disposing of said rat. They are usually dead.
So we've gotten into a routine about the whole thing (though its only happened twice) until last night, when somedog threw a wrench in the works.
Last night started out wonderful. We went to Target, got a Christmas tree, set it all up and decorated it. She goes to let the dogs in and I hear a screech of terror break the calm evening. Being the big strong man that I am (ok, I'll wait for the laughing to stop.... ) I rush to her aid assuming that it is some large bear or methed up crackhead attacking her. (I'm sure you're wondering where I live that we worry about both bears AND methed up crackheads) When I arrive at the scene of the crime she has the dogs inside and is panting with excitement. "What is it?" I asked, with a manly tenor to my voice. "Its a rat! The dogs caught, its outside, its still squeaking!" I'm thinking, no way is it still squeaking and go out to dispose of another rat carcass. To my surprise the thing is still twitching. I hate mice, rats, anything with that ugly as tail. (hamsters are cool, no tail) I grab a shovel, raise it over my head unceremoniusly to bring down upon the the tiny twitching body. Then, like a killer who decides at the last minute he can't kill his best friend, I stop. The shovel falls dramatically from my hands and I turn to my roommate and declare "I can't kill it!" She's a vet, she kills animals all day long (only the sick ones that can't be cured, I'm sure) I figure this is right up her alley. After a brief discussion, both of us determinedly refusing to look at the twitching body, she grabs the shovel and walks over and, in an action that would make Robespierre proud, takes care of business. But no over the head smashing like I was going to do (which would probably have splashed blood everywhere) she discretely severs the spinal cord and hands me back the shovel.
Obviously she was much better suited to that task than I. Now that the mouse/rat was dead, my role was clear again and I promptly scooped it up and disposed of it in a ceremony reminiscant of Hitler's (dumped into the refuse bin).
So, the night calmed down, my masculinity was determined, and the dogs all got another notch on their collars.
"O' Liberty! how they have played with you."
-Madame Jeane Roland de La Platiere's last words, one of many moderate girondist's beheaded under the reign of terror led by Robespierre during the French Revolution. (I always like when the footnote is longer than the quote)
Monday, December 06, 2004View from the Mountain Top
Ahh, first ski trip of the year completed. It was good to get out and stretch my legs after a long summer of dormancy. I love everything about skiing, the crisp mountain air, the pristine snow, the smell of pine, and most of all, the effect the altitude has on alcohol drinking.
Personally I feel I did quite well, I fell a couple times, but that was early in the day. I landed a couple of jumps that I attempted and even did a couple of challenging runs to make sure I was living life on the edge.
I do need to work on waking up on time. My friends get a little cranky when they've woken up at 5 to get to my house on time and I'm still sleeping at 6:15. The only reason they didn't leave me was thanks to the wonders of a coffee machine with a timer, so coffee was ready even though I wasn't.
After two long car rides and a tiring day on the slopes, you learn some unusual things about your friends. That they know the lyrics to "Cry Me a River" is the least disturbing of them.
All pictures have been destroyed to protect the innocent.
"I mean, who has ever captivated a group of people with a story about, 'This one time I was at my apartment, in my pajamas and watching E! True Hollywood Story. . . ?' "
Friday, December 03, 2004Shameless Plug
I've recently unearthed my original Tim-o-grams that were published from sometime in August of 1996 until about November of that same year. I 've decided they deserve their own page, and they can be found here:
As I can't not offer my opinion on something, even something I originally did, I have followed each old one up with a commentary section in a new color. There is only one posted now, but there will be more soon.
Wednesday, December 01, 2004Its the face...
Ok, so I'm out with some friends the other night at a bar near my house. I'm waiting in line for the restroom (you know its a bad scene if there's a line for the men's room and not the women's) and this girl walks by with quite an ample bosom and the guy next to me leans over and says to her, and I quote, "Hey baby, its the face not the titties, you know what I'm saying!" She apparently did not know what he was saying because she glared at him and continued to walk away. Though I realize the psychology this fellow was spinning I see three things wrong (though there may be more) with how he said it:
A) I've never known a successful pick up line that included the word "titties." Its such a weird word anyway. What are you 7? There is no reason to ever use that word in a woman's presence, EVER! Someone tell me one instance throughout the history of mankind where a man has successfully wooed a woman and included that word. Excluding, of course the little known Longfellow poem that begins "You're as cute as kitties."
B) Dude, you're waiting in line for the bathroom, not the place to pick up girls
C) Never ask, "you know what I'm saying" assume she knows, show some confidence for goodness sakes
I mean, come on dude, when you are talking with a girl who has obvious good features, but you are pretending that is not why you are talking to her, do not, I repeat do not, point out the fact that you did not notice her County Fair Prize Winning Melons.
Of course I'm always looking for an excuse to get beat up, so after I stopped laughing I leaned over and asked him "Has that ever worked?" Apparently it had not, as he did not reply.