I love to dream. There are few things I love more than being woken up by an annoying alarm clock at 5 in the morning and then snoozing it cause that puts me right into that little place between awake and really freaking asleep. Also known, as the dream zone. And I love the dream zone cause, and I don't know if this is the same for everyone, but my dreams kick F-ing ass!
I do wonder if other people have interesting dreams or they simply dream about something like fishing, or walking, or reading a book (but not really cause the letters get all funny in dreams *except for this one time..... this one time.... oh I'll tell you in a bit.... about this one time....*) But I do wonder if other peoples dreams are awesome or lame. Let me describe a few of mine.
And as with mine, god knows why, the stakes are always EVERYTHING, that or extremely lame.
The other night I dreamt that the Earth was falling INTO THE SUN. And me and a crackpot team of scientists had to devise and use a machine to reverse the gravity at the last moment, and we would use this pinball effect to bounce between suns to get us to a new home. (I feel a little retarded cause I had to go look up the name for pinball. It's one of those mornings.)
But like I said, an all stakes dream with crazy special effects reminiscent of the Fifth Element though I did not have any guest appearances from Bruce Willis.
I've also dreamed about zombies. I've dreamed about Zombies ALOT. I don't know why. I've fought them and won, fought and lost, fought and ended up drinking tea with them, I've had ALOT of zombie dreams. I blame society. Or my wife who watches waaaay to many scary movies. I don't know if I should read into my dreams cause I don't know what the crap they would be about or be interpreted to be.
I dreamt I had a black car in one dream and that there was a policy that if you had a black car you had one month to join this group of vampires, so what do I do to avoid this outcome, I repaint my car.... black. Thus buying myself another month at which point I paint my car again.... black. And by about paint job four I decide I'm bored of this and go hunting vampires from my drivers seat. Yes, not the brightest bulb on the tree am I when the lights go out.
I think the best dream someone else ever told me about was my friend Ryan. He had two great ones that are memorable, why? cause they take my high low standard of dreams to the epitome of dreamdom.
Dream 1 - Lamest dream ever) Ryan dreamt he woke up, got out of bed, and began to read a book. That was the WHOLE DREAM. Bravo buddy, bravo.
Dream 2 - Most high stakes dream ever) Ryan dreamt he got in a fistfight with God, yes GOD. Granted he lost, which he admitted should have been the outcome but he said he got a few good blows in on the giant white bearded Creator of all. Bravo again buddy, I have never had a dream with stakes THAT high.
I have dreamt my car was hit by a meteor (and let me tell you that is one of those dreams where you are PISSED until you wake up). I have fought Ninja Monkeys, yes I shit you not, NINJA MONKEYS. Dreaming is a hoot!
A lot of people have recurring dreams which I find very weird. I wish I had recurring dreams, it would be like Groundhog day in your head! You could go through once, find out where the giant spider is and the pitfall on the huge chessboard and then next time through do things a little different. Hell, by time five you'll have gotten the shotgun above the fireplace and the chainsaw hidden behind the portrait in the main hallway and rock the hell of that spider before he knows what happened. I would LOVE to have a recurring dream. But all in all dreams are still fun. You can do ANYTHING in dreams. But they are often crappy to. Like you dream that you did something bad, or that someone cheated on you, then you wake up and your are like "Whoo! Thank goodness I didn't actually eat my sister's new puppy." But they go the other way to, where you believe that all your problems are gone then you wake up and are like "SHIT! I've still got the Clap." That would be an unpleasant awakening.
Or sleepwalkers. I had an ex who was the biggest bitch when she slept walked. Though in all honesty I would have to say she went into a coma or something cause she quickly held that title 24/7. I have slept walked before, though usually after a night on the town (Sorry about your laundry Reid). Or waking a sleepwalker. My lady found that out the hard way when she tried to grab me while I was "Disarming a Bank Robber" in my dream. Yea.... that didn't end too well.
But all in all I love to dream and wish I could more often though you often get that feeling of having lost the meaning of life when you wake up and are like CRAP!
Scariest dream though ever. This dream had WAY TO MUCH DETAIL. I dreamt I was in some foreign country, Tibet I think, on a missionary trip. Lord knows how I had this much backstory but there you have it. And was walking home in the dark on a gravel road. Super dark, no moon or stars, so I was keeping on the road by sound. And I saw-ish something come at me and rolled and kicked. I called out to whatever it was to turn on their light and they responded in some dialect that I couldn't understand. But I could read it. You got it boys and girls, I had a subtitled dream. Freaking Subtitles. But the super creepy part was that I could read it, and you shouldn't be able to in dreams "apparently". Stuff in dreams has always come out retarded like "The Pirate wishy wash banana plantation green." And in the dream I always nod and say "Ahhh, yes I get it now" but when I wake up I'm like Get What? What the F!? But this dream I COULD read it. And it was saying, and this figure was scrabbling towards me "For the Flesh" Creeeeeepy. And when it got to me and touched me on the ribs I woke up. Didn't pee myself, kinda wish I had, evil zombie critters can't abide human pee, remember that. Human urine, NO ONE likes it. Except perverts, but for them the usual baseball bat will do. So arm yourselves immediately in a bad dream with a baseball bat and a gallon of people urine and you are good to go.
I wonder vaguely if people who have repetitive nightmares can influence them. Like if they have it every night, could they play Mario Bros for an hour before bed and then be able to rock out the Italian stache and jump on the Werewolf chasing them in their dreams? Could you dress up like a pirate for your pajamas and be able stab the people kidnapping you in your dream before legging it away with all the treasure? I do wonder.
The best part is when you realize it is a dream. Few things have been more fun than realizing I can breath under water and start to beat up the giant fish coming after me. Always remember, dream shark or no, they don't like being punched in the nose.
So my advice to dreamers is this, if only for my own amusement, dress in a kick ass super hero outfit and remember to aim for the groin. It is a fail safe plan of awesome.
But, and now I have to say the real reason for this blog. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to run into an ex? And where it might happen or where would be best for it to happen? Under what circumstances would it be to your benefit to run into someone you utterly hate?
Well last night I dreamt I ran into my ex. And it was GLORIOUS! Why? Because I ran into at a paintball range.
THINK ABOUT IT!! Benefits:
A) You are wearing a MASK. They will never know it is you!
B) You get to shoot them 1) As many times as you want, and 2) With NO repercussions!
C) If they brought the new guy, You can shoot him too!
D) You can shoot them EVEN IF YOU END UP ON THE SAME TEAM!!
I think if I ever actually ran into an ex I really disliked I need to do it at a paintball range. It would be a win win situation and they would never even know I was there. Thank you dream world for that insight. It was sweet.
Out!
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Each day is important
I figure each day is important in life. I know many people get into a "groove" and don't do anything other than a daily routine of get up, eat, work, go home, yell at traffic, eat, watch tv, sleep. And let me tell you, it is a sad sad day when the most interesting and dynamic thing that happens to you, happens while you are in traffic. Have you ever found yourself being like "Man! This major C cut me off in traffic today. Boy, that sucked."
Now you have to note,
A) This wasn't THAT interesting.
B) This was probably the only thing you said today with any enthusiasm.
C) You probably didn't say the letter C.
Now granted people do stuff at work, toiling away for the money and the good of humanity, but in all honesty, what can you bring home to the table to talk about. Usually, unless your spouse is in the same field or frankly a genius, you will often be at odds to tell her how much joy you got out of determining the fin angle on a jet turbine to increase air flow. Now you have to note :
A) This accomplishment was amazing to you cause you worked so hard on it, and maybe to a couple friends who are on par with your nerdiness. Not that it isn't awesome. I have often high fived myself for clearing a jam in the copier only to turn around and have no one to tell it to. But it just doesn't translate well to other people.
B) I kinda forgot where I was going with this but needless to say your greatest accomplishments are often kept to yourself. It is almost a godsend for security clearances cause you then CAN'T tell anyone about the dynamic spring ratio you solved earlier that day and by mere proxy it is that much more cool cause you CAN'T tell anyone. It's like being the secret agent of the nerd world.
So, my point is this, people get into a groove that they can't even brag about cause it is out of everyone else's league. So my solution that I have begun doing, seeing as all I have to brag about is photocopies and things to date, is to learn or discover something new each day that no one else probably knows but it's one of those things that when they think about it they say HOLY CRAP he's right! I never thought about that and now I shall go home and see if I TOO can fit into my Drier.
For example:
The Gummy Bears. Classic show of the 80's and you would be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn't know the theme song. Hell my brother sang it AT MY WEDDING. Kick ass by the way too. BUT! And my point is this. What do you think it is about? A bunch of bears living in a magical farm where they enjoy rambunctious adventures where they can use their super powers gained from their berry juice to fight evil?
OR!
Is it in fact about a bunch of bears who run a winery and get tanked.
Ahhh, are the wheels turning? Hit me hard the first time too. How many more childhood cartoons can we desecrate?
But my point is you can do this with anything. Yesterday's discovery, and why I found this out I don't know, was that while a guy can stand peeing on one leg, he can ONLY do it if he is standing in that foot up to your but one legged stand you do for the drunky touch your nose test. If you try and do it with your leg sticking out to your side and a/or a little in front of you it is freaking HARD! Your body seems to say "F-this if I start to go my balance will shift and I'm going to spray the walls."
And these are the things I think about each day. Granted the aren't the solution to world hunger, but everyone can understand them, and some may be foolish enough to try them.
Have you ever peed while drinking something? Giving the sensation of throughput?
Oh the self education is endless! I am going to try and pass on my learnings in my blog.
And End Anyway.
Now you have to note,
A) This wasn't THAT interesting.
B) This was probably the only thing you said today with any enthusiasm.
C) You probably didn't say the letter C.
Now granted people do stuff at work, toiling away for the money and the good of humanity, but in all honesty, what can you bring home to the table to talk about. Usually, unless your spouse is in the same field or frankly a genius, you will often be at odds to tell her how much joy you got out of determining the fin angle on a jet turbine to increase air flow. Now you have to note :
A) This accomplishment was amazing to you cause you worked so hard on it, and maybe to a couple friends who are on par with your nerdiness. Not that it isn't awesome. I have often high fived myself for clearing a jam in the copier only to turn around and have no one to tell it to. But it just doesn't translate well to other people.
B) I kinda forgot where I was going with this but needless to say your greatest accomplishments are often kept to yourself. It is almost a godsend for security clearances cause you then CAN'T tell anyone about the dynamic spring ratio you solved earlier that day and by mere proxy it is that much more cool cause you CAN'T tell anyone. It's like being the secret agent of the nerd world.
So, my point is this, people get into a groove that they can't even brag about cause it is out of everyone else's league. So my solution that I have begun doing, seeing as all I have to brag about is photocopies and things to date, is to learn or discover something new each day that no one else probably knows but it's one of those things that when they think about it they say HOLY CRAP he's right! I never thought about that and now I shall go home and see if I TOO can fit into my Drier.
For example:
The Gummy Bears. Classic show of the 80's and you would be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn't know the theme song. Hell my brother sang it AT MY WEDDING. Kick ass by the way too. BUT! And my point is this. What do you think it is about? A bunch of bears living in a magical farm where they enjoy rambunctious adventures where they can use their super powers gained from their berry juice to fight evil?
OR!
Is it in fact about a bunch of bears who run a winery and get tanked.
Ahhh, are the wheels turning? Hit me hard the first time too. How many more childhood cartoons can we desecrate?
But my point is you can do this with anything. Yesterday's discovery, and why I found this out I don't know, was that while a guy can stand peeing on one leg, he can ONLY do it if he is standing in that foot up to your but one legged stand you do for the drunky touch your nose test. If you try and do it with your leg sticking out to your side and a/or a little in front of you it is freaking HARD! Your body seems to say "F-this if I start to go my balance will shift and I'm going to spray the walls."
And these are the things I think about each day. Granted the aren't the solution to world hunger, but everyone can understand them, and some may be foolish enough to try them.
Have you ever peed while drinking something? Giving the sensation of throughput?
Oh the self education is endless! I am going to try and pass on my learnings in my blog.
And End Anyway.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
The Resume' of Me (the apostrophe is for awesome)
Hello from the far end of the frontier again, this is your host, Mr. Really Tired of Applying to Jobs Guy, and I'm will be taking you on a tour of my brain. Actually, sorry, my brain appears to be closed at the moment, apparently someone had an accident with the fryer and it is currently of no use to anyone. The brain, not the fryer.
What could have happened to have caused a frying of the brain you may ask? 43 job applications, that's what. And it's not like they are the good ol' apply to everything in sight variety from the good ol days of when I wanted to work at Starbucks cause that's where all the cool people worked but I could only get a job lifting rocks out of a ditch for my parents (oh you think I may be kidding, I will show you the ditch!) but alas, these are the read everything cause you have to make sure you did a good job applying variety. The kind where handwriting doesn't count, cause if you had to fill something in you aren't doing it right.
So! After a round of applications this morning, and my mornings tend to start off lame. My wife jumps out of bed doing a flip and cartwheel in her excitement to get to work, and then I can't get back to sleep cause the cat is having a berserk attack and meows at anything remotely resembling a person, hatstands, lamps, the wall. And hence I am left in my own little hell monitored by the cat as I apply to jobs. And granted Mr. Cat may just want some love, but the only thing receiving any love upon request at three in the morning will be my pillow, but granted if it ever actually requested it I will be damned if I put my head anywhere near it.
SO, I find myself wondering, as I often do, or at least did before my brain ceased to function on a reasonable level, what have I accomplished in life? What are the things, that I could put on a resume to myself and say, hey, don't you want to hire me to conduct the goings on in your life? Aren't I the one you want to employ to make sure your days are filled with trampolines and bubble gum (though in a separate occurrence, jumping on a trampoline chewing gum = bad, jumping on a trampoline covered in gum = also bad (however, slightly interesting to watch). So what have I done of note. Well let us structure it like a resume:
Dear Me,
I am looking for a position with ME, as a Qualified Life Consultant. I have 27 years of experience in this line of work, though probably the first 5 were done training in one facility or another. I have attached my resume for your consideration, though seeing as you are ME you probably know what is on it already.
Sincerely,
Me
Name: You
Residence: Your head.
Phone / Email : I'm a voice in your head, and though people may like to sit next to each other and text and email I might consider myself a little over the hill should I want to send MYSELF messages that way.
Objective: Occupation kicking ass and chewing bubblegum, though as previously stated, not on a trampoline.
Education: The school of hard knocks but not that hard, and not metaphorically perverse either, though sometimes I regret that part. (GPA: Shitty in the beginning ( bit of a nerd) but it got better later, so on average I would say a 3.3 out of 4.0)
Experience:
Being Me: Responsibilities - Keeping me alive, and out of oncoming traffic. Avoiding crazy as ass people in relationships. Making enough money to eat or finding people to buy me food. Maintaining a non-round body and regular (annually) exercise. Generally finding the bathroom without too much outside assistance.
9/15/1981 - Present
Being Pierre Rodriquez: Responsibilities - Being half Mexican, Half French. Rocking it out, wearing a hat, and building rope swings.
10/14/2007 - 12/25/2007 - Internship
Skills: Juggling, Handstands, Braiding Hair (Not), putting up with shopping for long periods of time, gym enthusiast without dying, and expert high fiver.
Accomplishments: Been around the world and back ALIVE. Installed a ceiling fan and am still ALIVE. Ate my weight in prunes (ALIVE). Have stayed out past 3 in the morning and contrary to my mothers beliefs NOT ended up in a ditch (ALIVE). Made many an interesting piece of art/carpentry for good/evil/retarded people and not lost any fingers/toes/organs/friends/peopleIdon'tKnow/pets/bodiesOfWater and managed to stay at lease 97% ALIVE. Dealt with crazy/supercrazy/blatentlyPsycotic people and came out ALIVE and sometimes with some tricks with hand puppets. And last but not least, good with animals terrible with babies.
References : You know everyone I do so just ask around ME.
And then I wouldn't be hired for failing the polygraph test of even though I passed with flying colors on the awesome test (cause I cheated) though on retrospect the two may be linked.
And so I shall not reboot the fried brain and hope that everything in general boots up correctly. Blogging is very therapeutic because unlike conducting oneself in life, I can make up all the words I want and no one can say I've ever been McFiggined.
Finale.
What could have happened to have caused a frying of the brain you may ask? 43 job applications, that's what. And it's not like they are the good ol' apply to everything in sight variety from the good ol days of when I wanted to work at Starbucks cause that's where all the cool people worked but I could only get a job lifting rocks out of a ditch for my parents (oh you think I may be kidding, I will show you the ditch!) but alas, these are the read everything cause you have to make sure you did a good job applying variety. The kind where handwriting doesn't count, cause if you had to fill something in you aren't doing it right.
So! After a round of applications this morning, and my mornings tend to start off lame. My wife jumps out of bed doing a flip and cartwheel in her excitement to get to work, and then I can't get back to sleep cause the cat is having a berserk attack and meows at anything remotely resembling a person, hatstands, lamps, the wall. And hence I am left in my own little hell monitored by the cat as I apply to jobs. And granted Mr. Cat may just want some love, but the only thing receiving any love upon request at three in the morning will be my pillow, but granted if it ever actually requested it I will be damned if I put my head anywhere near it.
SO, I find myself wondering, as I often do, or at least did before my brain ceased to function on a reasonable level, what have I accomplished in life? What are the things, that I could put on a resume to myself and say, hey, don't you want to hire me to conduct the goings on in your life? Aren't I the one you want to employ to make sure your days are filled with trampolines and bubble gum (though in a separate occurrence, jumping on a trampoline chewing gum = bad, jumping on a trampoline covered in gum = also bad (however, slightly interesting to watch). So what have I done of note. Well let us structure it like a resume:
Dear Me,
I am looking for a position with ME, as a Qualified Life Consultant. I have 27 years of experience in this line of work, though probably the first 5 were done training in one facility or another. I have attached my resume for your consideration, though seeing as you are ME you probably know what is on it already.
Sincerely,
Me
Name: You
Residence: Your head.
Phone / Email : I'm a voice in your head, and though people may like to sit next to each other and text and email I might consider myself a little over the hill should I want to send MYSELF messages that way.
Objective: Occupation kicking ass and chewing bubblegum, though as previously stated, not on a trampoline.
Education: The school of hard knocks but not that hard, and not metaphorically perverse either, though sometimes I regret that part. (GPA: Shitty in the beginning ( bit of a nerd) but it got better later, so on average I would say a 3.3 out of 4.0)
Experience:
Being Me: Responsibilities - Keeping me alive, and out of oncoming traffic. Avoiding crazy as ass people in relationships. Making enough money to eat or finding people to buy me food. Maintaining a non-round body and regular (annually) exercise. Generally finding the bathroom without too much outside assistance.
9/15/1981 - Present
Being Pierre Rodriquez: Responsibilities - Being half Mexican, Half French. Rocking it out, wearing a hat, and building rope swings.
10/14/2007 - 12/25/2007 - Internship
Skills: Juggling, Handstands, Braiding Hair (Not), putting up with shopping for long periods of time, gym enthusiast without dying, and expert high fiver.
Accomplishments: Been around the world and back ALIVE. Installed a ceiling fan and am still ALIVE. Ate my weight in prunes (ALIVE). Have stayed out past 3 in the morning and contrary to my mothers beliefs NOT ended up in a ditch (ALIVE). Made many an interesting piece of art/carpentry for good/evil/retarded people and not lost any fingers/toes/organs/friends/peopleIdon'tKnow/pets/bodiesOfWater and managed to stay at lease 97% ALIVE. Dealt with crazy/supercrazy/blatentlyPsycotic people and came out ALIVE and sometimes with some tricks with hand puppets. And last but not least, good with animals terrible with babies.
References : You know everyone I do so just ask around ME.
And then I wouldn't be hired for failing the polygraph test of even though I passed with flying colors on the awesome test (cause I cheated) though on retrospect the two may be linked.
And so I shall not reboot the fried brain and hope that everything in general boots up correctly. Blogging is very therapeutic because unlike conducting oneself in life, I can make up all the words I want and no one can say I've ever been McFiggined.
Finale.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Weddings and the People that make them special.
Well well well, sorry for the hiatus on the blog but I had decided to throw myself fully into trying to get a job. The wife has started working her gig and while I love living the dream, that's right, living in the Parents-In-Law's basement, I feel that a change of occupation is now needed. I would love to get a group of my good buddies over for a little D&D action and take my status from merely sad to utterly out of this world, but alas, this is not to be so. So job hunting I have gone. And, well, dozens of applications in, no calls. So sad, so sad. I think my low point was when the wife suggested I work at Best Buy, and while the appeal exists to have a job I don't really care about where I could run amok during the day, and have the keys to sponsor a lock in or sleepover with my bosom chums in the evening, I just don't think that would be the place for me. So I'm trying a different route. Those you can, do, those who can't say Shut the Hell Up I'm only working as a substitute teacher until the market gets turned around so there!
But on to the subject of the blog. Weddings, and the people that make them special. Now this is most often the bride and groom or perhaps a best man with a really amazing best man speech. My brother for instance had an amazing best man speech at my wedding. It began "Dashing and Daring, Courageous and Caring, Faithful and Friendly with stories to share." and for those who know it, this is the Gummy Bears theme song. So while the adults are sitting there thinking "My what a well spoken individual, he's not only very well spoken but has an intuition for lyrical speech." and I'm up there trying to keep a straight face and my friends are all rolling in the back. Bravo brother, bravo.
So as I said, there are usually some people who make the wedding the "IT" thing, and seeing as this has been wedding season I'm here to tell you about a few.
First, the Wedding of "Nick and Betsy Durso". Now I have to say my one beef with this wedding had to be my wife who said "This is best wedding I've ever seen.... second to ours that is." Thanks for the bone there darlin. But I have to say it was amazing. It was a winery atop a hill overlooking the rolling plains. The food was good, and they gave us free chocolate bars! Not little snacky things, but this was like the Halloween house you hit up time and again over the night with the full sized monsters of some chocolate you've never heard of but know it will be good because you are kinda sure its name is in Belgium but not totally cause you have never really read Belgiumese but you are sure it will be tasty anyway with all those pictures of cherubs on the from looking all fat and content. And so, it was a very pretty wedding, bride and groom awesome and so on. Ah, but who does the award go to? I have two awards for this wedding. Mark the Shark gets award number one for starting the wine flowing practically before I got there, and being the basic result of my fuzzy recollection and odd pictures throughout the night. Bravo Shark, you are the one who starts the party right and knows how to celebrate the wedding. I wish I had more to add on this point, but I was drinking a bit too much, so on the same note, boo Shark, I can't remember why I took the pictures with the banana and the daffodil. And we have the second award, the gold if you will, for the person who made the ceremony priceless. That's right. The lone cow. Now I don't know where this guy was, but it was a picturesque backdrop of two people across a valley exchanging vows, and this cow decided to let howl. And this is a VALLEY, and it ECHOES. Bravo cow, bravo for just being in the wrong place at oh so the wrong time.
Wedding 2: Now this one deserves special mention. I was not at this wedding but my girl showed me the pictures from facebook later as she is the un-announced deity of facebook perusing it's pages with all alacrity spreading knowledge and wealth as she finds it in her travels. But she showed me the wedding pictures of Oliva and Taz's wedding. Now I have to say, bravo photographer, he did a very good job with what I heard to be a slightly gloomy day, so kudos to him. But the awards I have to say goes to this man. Let me set the scene. The picture is the classic bride and father of the bride coming down the isle. The are exiting a glorious Holley archway with a hedge stretching away to either side taller than a man. It is picturesque as they make their entrance. But then you say, how do you know the hedge was taller than a man. And the award goes to, Bushes Guy. There is a convenient hole in the hedge and lo and behold some guy, maybe a waiter, maybe a gardener, who knows! But he has his noggin in the hole to watch the bride come down the isle and is grinning like he won the lottery. Bravo bushes guy, you take the prize.
Now for another wedding I rather enjoyed. This one had its bumps and bruises as most weddings do, but I have to say the couple was radiant, and rocked it out solid. Especially since they had two cakes! So the consolatory prize goes to the couple. For having enough cake to do around and then some. Hey I'm an easy guy to please. That and their food rocked my socks off so hard I had to dance barefoot most the night. But on to the winners of this wedding. Now I as I said this was also a very beautiful wedding but there were a couple hitches one of which being that one of the bridesmaids was called back to active duty and had to miss the wedding at the last minute. So, in her stead, they rocked a garden gnome. That's right. A garden gnome stood in line with the other bridesmaids, and rocked the ceremony. But seeing as I can't in all good conscience give the prize to the garden gnome, or to the person missing as it was out of their control, this prize goes to Nick Durso, the groomsman opposite the garden gnome who treated it with all the care that a bridesmaid deserved such as escorting it down the isle, posing for the couples photos, and making sure it had a good meal at dinner as it couldn't reach the buffet without help. Bravo Nick and the garden gnome, you made wedding history. Now the final award for this wedding goes to a circumstance of things, so you can decide who gets the vote. Let me set the stage. Best man's speech, a slightly fuzzy sound system, and a couple impatient guests who wanted to get dancing. Now the best man's speech was....long. Really long. I think he actually had it written to be multiple speeches into one with dramatic pauses between the interchanges. And while I know it was done with a steady hand when written, the sound system did not carry so it was something akin to listening to the teacher of Charlie Brown for about twenty minutes. And it would have been longer except that some unnamed people nearby felt that it should reach it's climax then and began to clap and cheer whereupon the other guests who weren't really following decided that the clapper must have better hearing than they and followed suit, and which point the best man, finding himself a little out of sorts with the applause took it in stride and took a bow. So bravo clappers and best man, you made my blog.
Now for the final wedding of the summer, and I have to say, some of the highest awards I have to give. This wedding I had the pleasure to attend the other weekend and it was for my good friend John, and his lady J. Now this wedding was a military wedding, and I tell you this cause you have to visualize how a few things are. The dad, in full military regalia, a very no-nonsense kind of look about him. So the wedding was in a church, very nice, the maids of honor very dolled up, the bride looking very bridey the groom rocking it out strong and pulling the emotion card only once. So we then head over to the reception and the few people we were with got there first. This was a little weird cause as we walk into the reception hall a few bells go off in my head. Now nothing against the wedding we had been at, but it was largely of one ethnicity, and the reception we were about to crash, frankly, was not. But as it turned out there were several receptions going on in the building so my fears were put aside and we plunged in. So we get to the actual reception, chill at the back and wait for the fun to begin. So the crowd arrives and the party begins, and the awards begin. I have three to give out tonight. The first award goes to this man. The scene. The father is giving the father speech, it is heartfelt describing his love for his daughter and how happy he was for her, and how he had accepted John as his son. It was right at this point that one man, perhaps a little hard of hearing or just unable to control the volume of his voice decided that the best thing to do at that point was to say "Wow" really loud. Well, that started my night off with a bang. So the speeches finish, heartfelt and tearful yada yada. Then the dancing begins. Now my second award will go to my friend Amanada. Scene. The dance floor is full, now there wasn't a huge amount of dancing going on until now, but when the "Twist" came on everyone swarmed the floor. And the song is playing and everyone is rocking it strong, then the part of the song comes about where it plays "Everyone get a little quieter now" where by tradition the people dancing will move lower and lower and twist ever closer to the ground. So we have everyone, basically squatting at the part of the dance... except for Amanda who is standing there in the middle of this group on the floor looking around with a look of shock and mingled amusement. Now I don't know if she has bad knees, or a tight skirt or what, but all I have to say it, bravo Amanda, don't give in to that peer pressure and rock it strong, bravo.
But now. The top award of the evening. This gets its own paragraph and the awards of the Platinum of the night. It is just that good. Scene. The bridesmaids are at the head table, and the maid of Honor is an attractive blond of the sorority persuasion and everyone is dressed up to the peak. Not one person at the wedding is not in a suit, and many are in military regalia. And enter Glasses McGee the boyfriend of the Maid of Honor and AT the head table. This guy did NOT get the memo. The one that says:
Memo: You are at a wedding.
1) Do not wear white tennis shoes.
2) Do not wear sweatpants.
3) Do not wear a long sleeve shirt you obviously haven't washed and pulled out from the back of your closet because you don't actually do laundry.
Thank you for adhering to our requests and have a nice day at the wedding.
Oh, but Glasses McGee was going to take it one step further. Glasses McGee was SO cool he had sunglasses on, in a dark room at a Wedding. And he was so UNBELIEVABLY cool that he had them on BACKWARDS on his bald head. That's right, Glasses McGee had eyes in the back of his head that could see so well, he needed to have sunglasses on them to shade them from the most minimal of light.
Well let me tell you when I saw Maid of Honor, who I might add was into this guy like he had a mountain of money and she was a gold digger with a silver pick axe, she went from an attractive individual to, well, there is a trailer involved. There is something very important that everyone should remember when living their life. There is no dressing like a thug at a wedding, there is just retarded. Glasses McGee you have won the Platinum medal of the wedding season for not listening to the rules of those crazy jazzed up old people at that Military Wedding and living by your own rules and wearing your sunglasses at night. Yes. You have brought the 80's back to us in the style of Corey Hart, and you Wear Your Sunglasses at Night.
End of Memo.
But on to the subject of the blog. Weddings, and the people that make them special. Now this is most often the bride and groom or perhaps a best man with a really amazing best man speech. My brother for instance had an amazing best man speech at my wedding. It began "Dashing and Daring, Courageous and Caring, Faithful and Friendly with stories to share." and for those who know it, this is the Gummy Bears theme song. So while the adults are sitting there thinking "My what a well spoken individual, he's not only very well spoken but has an intuition for lyrical speech." and I'm up there trying to keep a straight face and my friends are all rolling in the back. Bravo brother, bravo.
So as I said, there are usually some people who make the wedding the "IT" thing, and seeing as this has been wedding season I'm here to tell you about a few.
First, the Wedding of "Nick and Betsy Durso". Now I have to say my one beef with this wedding had to be my wife who said "This is best wedding I've ever seen.... second to ours that is." Thanks for the bone there darlin. But I have to say it was amazing. It was a winery atop a hill overlooking the rolling plains. The food was good, and they gave us free chocolate bars! Not little snacky things, but this was like the Halloween house you hit up time and again over the night with the full sized monsters of some chocolate you've never heard of but know it will be good because you are kinda sure its name is in Belgium but not totally cause you have never really read Belgiumese but you are sure it will be tasty anyway with all those pictures of cherubs on the from looking all fat and content. And so, it was a very pretty wedding, bride and groom awesome and so on. Ah, but who does the award go to? I have two awards for this wedding. Mark the Shark gets award number one for starting the wine flowing practically before I got there, and being the basic result of my fuzzy recollection and odd pictures throughout the night. Bravo Shark, you are the one who starts the party right and knows how to celebrate the wedding. I wish I had more to add on this point, but I was drinking a bit too much, so on the same note, boo Shark, I can't remember why I took the pictures with the banana and the daffodil. And we have the second award, the gold if you will, for the person who made the ceremony priceless. That's right. The lone cow. Now I don't know where this guy was, but it was a picturesque backdrop of two people across a valley exchanging vows, and this cow decided to let howl. And this is a VALLEY, and it ECHOES. Bravo cow, bravo for just being in the wrong place at oh so the wrong time.
Wedding 2: Now this one deserves special mention. I was not at this wedding but my girl showed me the pictures from facebook later as she is the un-announced deity of facebook perusing it's pages with all alacrity spreading knowledge and wealth as she finds it in her travels. But she showed me the wedding pictures of Oliva and Taz's wedding. Now I have to say, bravo photographer, he did a very good job with what I heard to be a slightly gloomy day, so kudos to him. But the awards I have to say goes to this man. Let me set the scene. The picture is the classic bride and father of the bride coming down the isle. The are exiting a glorious Holley archway with a hedge stretching away to either side taller than a man. It is picturesque as they make their entrance. But then you say, how do you know the hedge was taller than a man. And the award goes to, Bushes Guy. There is a convenient hole in the hedge and lo and behold some guy, maybe a waiter, maybe a gardener, who knows! But he has his noggin in the hole to watch the bride come down the isle and is grinning like he won the lottery. Bravo bushes guy, you take the prize.
Now for another wedding I rather enjoyed. This one had its bumps and bruises as most weddings do, but I have to say the couple was radiant, and rocked it out solid. Especially since they had two cakes! So the consolatory prize goes to the couple. For having enough cake to do around and then some. Hey I'm an easy guy to please. That and their food rocked my socks off so hard I had to dance barefoot most the night. But on to the winners of this wedding. Now I as I said this was also a very beautiful wedding but there were a couple hitches one of which being that one of the bridesmaids was called back to active duty and had to miss the wedding at the last minute. So, in her stead, they rocked a garden gnome. That's right. A garden gnome stood in line with the other bridesmaids, and rocked the ceremony. But seeing as I can't in all good conscience give the prize to the garden gnome, or to the person missing as it was out of their control, this prize goes to Nick Durso, the groomsman opposite the garden gnome who treated it with all the care that a bridesmaid deserved such as escorting it down the isle, posing for the couples photos, and making sure it had a good meal at dinner as it couldn't reach the buffet without help. Bravo Nick and the garden gnome, you made wedding history. Now the final award for this wedding goes to a circumstance of things, so you can decide who gets the vote. Let me set the stage. Best man's speech, a slightly fuzzy sound system, and a couple impatient guests who wanted to get dancing. Now the best man's speech was....long. Really long. I think he actually had it written to be multiple speeches into one with dramatic pauses between the interchanges. And while I know it was done with a steady hand when written, the sound system did not carry so it was something akin to listening to the teacher of Charlie Brown for about twenty minutes. And it would have been longer except that some unnamed people nearby felt that it should reach it's climax then and began to clap and cheer whereupon the other guests who weren't really following decided that the clapper must have better hearing than they and followed suit, and which point the best man, finding himself a little out of sorts with the applause took it in stride and took a bow. So bravo clappers and best man, you made my blog.
Now for the final wedding of the summer, and I have to say, some of the highest awards I have to give. This wedding I had the pleasure to attend the other weekend and it was for my good friend John, and his lady J. Now this wedding was a military wedding, and I tell you this cause you have to visualize how a few things are. The dad, in full military regalia, a very no-nonsense kind of look about him. So the wedding was in a church, very nice, the maids of honor very dolled up, the bride looking very bridey the groom rocking it out strong and pulling the emotion card only once. So we then head over to the reception and the few people we were with got there first. This was a little weird cause as we walk into the reception hall a few bells go off in my head. Now nothing against the wedding we had been at, but it was largely of one ethnicity, and the reception we were about to crash, frankly, was not. But as it turned out there were several receptions going on in the building so my fears were put aside and we plunged in. So we get to the actual reception, chill at the back and wait for the fun to begin. So the crowd arrives and the party begins, and the awards begin. I have three to give out tonight. The first award goes to this man. The scene. The father is giving the father speech, it is heartfelt describing his love for his daughter and how happy he was for her, and how he had accepted John as his son. It was right at this point that one man, perhaps a little hard of hearing or just unable to control the volume of his voice decided that the best thing to do at that point was to say "Wow" really loud. Well, that started my night off with a bang. So the speeches finish, heartfelt and tearful yada yada. Then the dancing begins. Now my second award will go to my friend Amanada. Scene. The dance floor is full, now there wasn't a huge amount of dancing going on until now, but when the "Twist" came on everyone swarmed the floor. And the song is playing and everyone is rocking it strong, then the part of the song comes about where it plays "Everyone get a little quieter now" where by tradition the people dancing will move lower and lower and twist ever closer to the ground. So we have everyone, basically squatting at the part of the dance... except for Amanda who is standing there in the middle of this group on the floor looking around with a look of shock and mingled amusement. Now I don't know if she has bad knees, or a tight skirt or what, but all I have to say it, bravo Amanda, don't give in to that peer pressure and rock it strong, bravo.
But now. The top award of the evening. This gets its own paragraph and the awards of the Platinum of the night. It is just that good. Scene. The bridesmaids are at the head table, and the maid of Honor is an attractive blond of the sorority persuasion and everyone is dressed up to the peak. Not one person at the wedding is not in a suit, and many are in military regalia. And enter Glasses McGee the boyfriend of the Maid of Honor and AT the head table. This guy did NOT get the memo. The one that says:
Memo: You are at a wedding.
1) Do not wear white tennis shoes.
2) Do not wear sweatpants.
3) Do not wear a long sleeve shirt you obviously haven't washed and pulled out from the back of your closet because you don't actually do laundry.
Thank you for adhering to our requests and have a nice day at the wedding.
Oh, but Glasses McGee was going to take it one step further. Glasses McGee was SO cool he had sunglasses on, in a dark room at a Wedding. And he was so UNBELIEVABLY cool that he had them on BACKWARDS on his bald head. That's right, Glasses McGee had eyes in the back of his head that could see so well, he needed to have sunglasses on them to shade them from the most minimal of light.
Well let me tell you when I saw Maid of Honor, who I might add was into this guy like he had a mountain of money and she was a gold digger with a silver pick axe, she went from an attractive individual to, well, there is a trailer involved. There is something very important that everyone should remember when living their life. There is no dressing like a thug at a wedding, there is just retarded. Glasses McGee you have won the Platinum medal of the wedding season for not listening to the rules of those crazy jazzed up old people at that Military Wedding and living by your own rules and wearing your sunglasses at night. Yes. You have brought the 80's back to us in the style of Corey Hart, and you Wear Your Sunglasses at Night.
End of Memo.
Monday, October 27, 2008
A Homecoming Comparison (Virginia Tech vs. William and Mary)
Well I have recently had the pleasure of attending not only my homecoming this year, but that of my very sexy and great cook of a wife. And now that I have said that, I can probably get away with writing whatever I want for the rest of this blog, so!
I went to Virginia Tech, very fun very party school. What I liked about it was how, to a degree, rugged it was, people were just rough and tumble, you'd go out to the bar and see people kicked out for being belligerent, and then you'd go get belligerent and then someone would magically have a football that, and this was always the best part, glowed in the dark! and you would play till four in the morning and wake up in a ditch, and it was FUN and everyone was kinda that way.
But I had to establish how Tech was when I was there so I can now compare the homecoming.
Well well well, VA tech homecoming. I went down with my good buddy Shark, called thus because he eats most things in a single bite and doesn't like it when you hit him in the nose, and we rolled in at a reasonable hour looking for good times. The plan was to roll in at my bro's new house, hang until the rest of the crew got there, then party like it was 2003 all over again. Ahh yes, the days of such popular social hits such as "Some earlier season of American Idol I still didn't watch" or "A different Season of 24, which was still probably more bad ass than most things on TV today." And every ones favorite "Sierra Mist, I don't know where it went, but I remember when it was here".
So we roll into Tech and things began to go strange right away. We tried driving to my bros place using a GPS which actually took us over someones lawn to get there, I don't know why, I just think Gladice (yes that is the name of my GPS, cause she sounds like a cranky old B) is a cranky old B. Like that witty redundancy there?
So like I said, we roll in and things get unusual right off the bat, for starters my bro's place. That shit is haunted. There is like a super nice neighborhood next door, with children singing in the street and playing ball and general laughter all around, but in my bro's neighborhood you got ghosts. There have to be about 20 houses, all of them are all lights out, and no cars, no people, nothing. I think either A) this is where model homes come to die, or B) all the owners are old people who have died and no one has found out yet, but needless to say there will be a lot of Hearse traffic around the holiday season when people start calling their loved ones for that once a year hello.
But to continue, we hang out at the place watching TV and so on and then once everyone has rolled in we roll out to the bars. Now the bars at Tech used to be havens of crazy jolliness, like places you would imagine Santa might hang out during his college years. Oh yes, THAT kind of place. But now, all the bars were crowded as crap (understandable being Homecoming) but what was weird was they all had a Cover. BOO ..... THAT..... CRAP. I don't roll with covers and neither did the crew I was with, so when the first bar said moderate line to get in and 2$ cover we said, hell no suckas, and rolled to the next one. Thus it was a little strange that with this mindset we ended up at the bar with the longest line and the biggest cover. I just don't know. So we stand in line forever for this bar, just to get a single drink we call the Rail, but I am getting ahead of myself, first let me complain about the new generation at Tech. They suck. There that about sums it up. We have evolved, or as I like to call it stupivolved from classy chums who like to have house parties and a good game of tackle football to a group of ninny sissy weeny chumps with not one, neh not two, but for some F-all retarded reason 3 popped collars in one, who looks like they are sporting an automobile spoiler on their neck for one of the more jazzed up rice burners. So as I say, everyone there is no longer original and fun, they are all 1) Bleached Blond yuppies 2) Skinny in a creepy way not in a fun I get healthy meals and exercise way 3) They are all drunk but not fun drunk but that retarded let me tell you how great I am drunk than used to earn you wedgie in the good ol grade school days of yore, and 4) They'ze all dumb as shit. I thought our enrollment stats went up, but seeing these people depress me cause I think they honestly, boys and girls, stand in front of a mirror for an hour before going out, getting their hair just right, then as they exit their door they swill their Zima or Appletini or whatever the newday equivalent of weeny drinks it may be, before setting out the door to tell their chums how they are going to play tiddler wanks with all the ladies tonight who have no skill at choosing someone who can make it to the gym more than once a decade.
Such intense hostility, where does it come from guy? It comes from people being in my way because you are too busy being drunk at each other to let the line move.
On a lighter note I am glad to see that the Tech bouncers are still in top form as they tackled one of the yuppies and sat on him till the cops came. Bravo bouncers, you may be of all sizes and stature, but when it comes to sitting on people who are full of themselves there are none better.
All in all it was a good weekend, not as drinky as I would have expected from Tech though for all my memories of it there. And oddly more expensive too. So what did I learn from my weekend at Tech? More expensive, more crowded, less old school, more pretty boy, and less drinky than it used to be. It made me feel old, like yelling at people for being on my lawn cause everyone there was so vastly, and when I say vastly I am talking Grand Canyon meets the Hulk vastly, immature. Yea, that vast. At least when we were immature there we were responsible enough to let the bouncers sit on us without complaining.
I do have to say the highlight of that weekend was when Shark, plastered beyond plastered, and back at the abode with us, decided he wanted something to eat. So 10 pot banging minutes later we turn to see him sitting on a stool in the corner eating pasta. Now I should describe what we ACTUALLY saw. We saw him eating pasta with a spoon, and the pasta was sticking straight out. That's right kids, he forgot to cook it. Upon inspection of the kitchen after he fell asleep from his crunchy delight yielded that not had he tried and given up on a waffle in the toaster and that the pasta uncooked, he had managed to find a ye old' bottle of pasta sauce from the back of the fridge to flavor it. Ye old. Think about that. Lets try it like this Ye Mold. Yep, and ew. Poor guy, quite the V-Tech trooper.
Good weekend all round though, much rejoicing with old friends.
But now, the William and Mary comparison. Now I have visited there before and knew it to be a small place. 2 bars of any note that I could see, and frankly not a lot of nightlife that I saw when I was last there, but I was willing to give it a shot.
I think the best way to describe my time there was on reflection. We arrived, got dressed up and began our progressive. That's right, we tried to do a progressive in the hotel (A progressive is where you go room to room and do a different drink in each = McWastey Land) which fell through when we all just kept drinking in the first room. And went out. But lo and behold there were so many alumni that getting into one of the two bars (the good one with actual beer) was nigh impossible. So we went to bar number 2. I should mention at this point that we got the hotel within walking distance, neh, stumbling distance, neh, pulling yourself along on a big wheels distance from the bar. So we went to bar 2 and began to drink. Now, I can't really recall what happened next but I woke up the next morning and began to piece the parts together. We drank at bar 2, which was basically a pizza parlor. I recall buying me and my friends a pitcher, and it was cheap. And well we all know what happened next then. We all bought a pitcher so we could all revel in how cheap it was, and some of us had to try it twice. Well we then began the stumble around the neighborhoods and ended up at ye-old Wawa. Now this is where I really have to take my hat off to William and Mary. We ended up, drunk, at a Wawa. If that doesn't say college experience then I don't know what does. So we got more inebriated, and back to the hotel, where more inebriated, and then, and this has to be my favorite part of the night. Back to the Wawa again.
That is about all I could piece together from people's stories the next day. And what a next day it was. I recall sitting in a chair out in the rain for most of it, cause I just wanted to sit my hung over self there. But good times all around. Very much so.
So, in comparison, William and Mary, much to my surprise, as the unfavored participant came back to fulfill my hopes and dreams of a homecoming experience. So bravo William and Mary for keeping the good times rolling and not having a whole bunch of weenies at your school, or at least for hiding them while I was there. And Tech, you need to get back to old time spirit of drinking a whole lot and rolling in the mud.
But all in all, great weekends the both of them, and I look forward to my out of college sobriety. *Sob*
PS. Drink responsibly or not at all, and I find joy in the fact that spellcheck had absolutely Zero suggestions when I spellchecked Stupivolved.
PPS. After thinking about it I remembered my truly favorite part about William and Mary homecoming. While inebriated I drew a Frenchman Face on my hand at the bar. I gave him drinks, put him in many photos and introduced him to my friends. I was able to walk around with a Frenchman face drawn on my hand acting as his translator the ENTIRE NIGHT and no one was surprised. Bravo William and Mary, bravo.
I went to Virginia Tech, very fun very party school. What I liked about it was how, to a degree, rugged it was, people were just rough and tumble, you'd go out to the bar and see people kicked out for being belligerent, and then you'd go get belligerent and then someone would magically have a football that, and this was always the best part, glowed in the dark! and you would play till four in the morning and wake up in a ditch, and it was FUN and everyone was kinda that way.
But I had to establish how Tech was when I was there so I can now compare the homecoming.
Well well well, VA tech homecoming. I went down with my good buddy Shark, called thus because he eats most things in a single bite and doesn't like it when you hit him in the nose, and we rolled in at a reasonable hour looking for good times. The plan was to roll in at my bro's new house, hang until the rest of the crew got there, then party like it was 2003 all over again. Ahh yes, the days of such popular social hits such as "Some earlier season of American Idol I still didn't watch" or "A different Season of 24, which was still probably more bad ass than most things on TV today." And every ones favorite "Sierra Mist, I don't know where it went, but I remember when it was here".
So we roll into Tech and things began to go strange right away. We tried driving to my bros place using a GPS which actually took us over someones lawn to get there, I don't know why, I just think Gladice (yes that is the name of my GPS, cause she sounds like a cranky old B) is a cranky old B. Like that witty redundancy there?
So like I said, we roll in and things get unusual right off the bat, for starters my bro's place. That shit is haunted. There is like a super nice neighborhood next door, with children singing in the street and playing ball and general laughter all around, but in my bro's neighborhood you got ghosts. There have to be about 20 houses, all of them are all lights out, and no cars, no people, nothing. I think either A) this is where model homes come to die, or B) all the owners are old people who have died and no one has found out yet, but needless to say there will be a lot of Hearse traffic around the holiday season when people start calling their loved ones for that once a year hello.
But to continue, we hang out at the place watching TV and so on and then once everyone has rolled in we roll out to the bars. Now the bars at Tech used to be havens of crazy jolliness, like places you would imagine Santa might hang out during his college years. Oh yes, THAT kind of place. But now, all the bars were crowded as crap (understandable being Homecoming) but what was weird was they all had a Cover. BOO ..... THAT..... CRAP. I don't roll with covers and neither did the crew I was with, so when the first bar said moderate line to get in and 2$ cover we said, hell no suckas, and rolled to the next one. Thus it was a little strange that with this mindset we ended up at the bar with the longest line and the biggest cover. I just don't know. So we stand in line forever for this bar, just to get a single drink we call the Rail, but I am getting ahead of myself, first let me complain about the new generation at Tech. They suck. There that about sums it up. We have evolved, or as I like to call it stupivolved from classy chums who like to have house parties and a good game of tackle football to a group of ninny sissy weeny chumps with not one, neh not two, but for some F-all retarded reason 3 popped collars in one, who looks like they are sporting an automobile spoiler on their neck for one of the more jazzed up rice burners. So as I say, everyone there is no longer original and fun, they are all 1) Bleached Blond yuppies 2) Skinny in a creepy way not in a fun I get healthy meals and exercise way 3) They are all drunk but not fun drunk but that retarded let me tell you how great I am drunk than used to earn you wedgie in the good ol grade school days of yore, and 4) They'ze all dumb as shit. I thought our enrollment stats went up, but seeing these people depress me cause I think they honestly, boys and girls, stand in front of a mirror for an hour before going out, getting their hair just right, then as they exit their door they swill their Zima or Appletini or whatever the newday equivalent of weeny drinks it may be, before setting out the door to tell their chums how they are going to play tiddler wanks with all the ladies tonight who have no skill at choosing someone who can make it to the gym more than once a decade.
Such intense hostility, where does it come from guy? It comes from people being in my way because you are too busy being drunk at each other to let the line move.
On a lighter note I am glad to see that the Tech bouncers are still in top form as they tackled one of the yuppies and sat on him till the cops came. Bravo bouncers, you may be of all sizes and stature, but when it comes to sitting on people who are full of themselves there are none better.
All in all it was a good weekend, not as drinky as I would have expected from Tech though for all my memories of it there. And oddly more expensive too. So what did I learn from my weekend at Tech? More expensive, more crowded, less old school, more pretty boy, and less drinky than it used to be. It made me feel old, like yelling at people for being on my lawn cause everyone there was so vastly, and when I say vastly I am talking Grand Canyon meets the Hulk vastly, immature. Yea, that vast. At least when we were immature there we were responsible enough to let the bouncers sit on us without complaining.
I do have to say the highlight of that weekend was when Shark, plastered beyond plastered, and back at the abode with us, decided he wanted something to eat. So 10 pot banging minutes later we turn to see him sitting on a stool in the corner eating pasta. Now I should describe what we ACTUALLY saw. We saw him eating pasta with a spoon, and the pasta was sticking straight out. That's right kids, he forgot to cook it. Upon inspection of the kitchen after he fell asleep from his crunchy delight yielded that not had he tried and given up on a waffle in the toaster and that the pasta uncooked, he had managed to find a ye old' bottle of pasta sauce from the back of the fridge to flavor it. Ye old. Think about that. Lets try it like this Ye Mold. Yep, and ew. Poor guy, quite the V-Tech trooper.
Good weekend all round though, much rejoicing with old friends.
But now, the William and Mary comparison. Now I have visited there before and knew it to be a small place. 2 bars of any note that I could see, and frankly not a lot of nightlife that I saw when I was last there, but I was willing to give it a shot.
I think the best way to describe my time there was on reflection. We arrived, got dressed up and began our progressive. That's right, we tried to do a progressive in the hotel (A progressive is where you go room to room and do a different drink in each = McWastey Land) which fell through when we all just kept drinking in the first room. And went out. But lo and behold there were so many alumni that getting into one of the two bars (the good one with actual beer) was nigh impossible. So we went to bar number 2. I should mention at this point that we got the hotel within walking distance, neh, stumbling distance, neh, pulling yourself along on a big wheels distance from the bar. So we went to bar 2 and began to drink. Now, I can't really recall what happened next but I woke up the next morning and began to piece the parts together. We drank at bar 2, which was basically a pizza parlor. I recall buying me and my friends a pitcher, and it was cheap. And well we all know what happened next then. We all bought a pitcher so we could all revel in how cheap it was, and some of us had to try it twice. Well we then began the stumble around the neighborhoods and ended up at ye-old Wawa. Now this is where I really have to take my hat off to William and Mary. We ended up, drunk, at a Wawa. If that doesn't say college experience then I don't know what does. So we got more inebriated, and back to the hotel, where more inebriated, and then, and this has to be my favorite part of the night. Back to the Wawa again.
That is about all I could piece together from people's stories the next day. And what a next day it was. I recall sitting in a chair out in the rain for most of it, cause I just wanted to sit my hung over self there. But good times all around. Very much so.
So, in comparison, William and Mary, much to my surprise, as the unfavored participant came back to fulfill my hopes and dreams of a homecoming experience. So bravo William and Mary for keeping the good times rolling and not having a whole bunch of weenies at your school, or at least for hiding them while I was there. And Tech, you need to get back to old time spirit of drinking a whole lot and rolling in the mud.
But all in all, great weekends the both of them, and I look forward to my out of college sobriety. *Sob*
PS. Drink responsibly or not at all, and I find joy in the fact that spellcheck had absolutely Zero suggestions when I spellchecked Stupivolved.
PPS. After thinking about it I remembered my truly favorite part about William and Mary homecoming. While inebriated I drew a Frenchman Face on my hand at the bar. I gave him drinks, put him in many photos and introduced him to my friends. I was able to walk around with a Frenchman face drawn on my hand acting as his translator the ENTIRE NIGHT and no one was surprised. Bravo William and Mary, bravo.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Job Hunting is Stupid
Okay, this brain, fried. Fried like a lonely egg on a lonely grill on a lonely stove in the middle of a lonely area of New Mexico. Where does it plug in you ask? It doesn't matter! It's New Mexico! It's hot enough to warm the lonely stove with the lonely blah blah blah you get the idea. Brain, not so functiony. Any why? Because applying to jobs, searching for jobs, and standing on your head for an hour all have something in common. They are hard, and it makes you feel stupid.
I am baffled, however, how I managed to get such a craptastic job coming out of undergrad. When I came out of undergrad I applied to, and keep in mind that this is the memory in my head, weather this happened or not I am not sure, a plethora of jobs with a resume' gleaming with awesomeness. But try as I might, there were so few nice jobs, and I was so downhearted at the time for the lack of jobs to test my might. There were only jobs like Linoleum Tester, and Drywall Construction, and Plumber. And which one did I settle for? Yes Settle, like some sort of butt ugly prom date who later turns out to be a man dressed up like a woman dressed up like a man dressed up like a women cause it was cold outside and they thought it best to dress in layers?? That's right, drywall construction. Or as I like to call it, Super Hell. Oh, yes, your good ol' Catholics had it right enough with the whole hell idea where people who sin and all those fun things go to learn their lessons, but they would jump for joy if they new about Super Hell.
Super Hell is where you go when you need money and want to work towards a bigger paycheck tomorrow, but will settle for anything because you lacked the foresight to locate yourself not in the middle of no-good-jobs-man-land like good ol MD. But I'm sure people out there love the ol' MD so I shall say nothing more on the matter other than, you should die, die for your sins, your sins being liking that hole of a state, you know the one, the one where happiness goes to Die. But I digress, working for a job because you need money is foolish, and I was foolish and it was bad. But where was I going with this... ah yea, my memory says that there were no good jobs, but as I apply now I see job after job that seems to be of an amazing quality, with science and technology and veritable jumping jacks of thoughtful challenges, and I wonder why I didn't see these before, and why I didn't get a job doing one of these things. Then I looked up my old engineering resume out of nostalgia and found out why.
My old resume, the golden gem that I remembered it being was littered with such wonderful engineering experience qualifiers such as, "Worked at the Library", a legitimate work reference even though it might lie on the outskirts, "Lifeguard" not what I might call the top reference for an engineering field, but look on the positive side, it puts a trained professional in the area should someone someone try to drown in the toilet or should everyone in the office spontaneously try to make for a large body of water, but I think my favorite qualifier, the one that on that resume said "I am your man, I am the person who will bring the qualities you need to your front door and hammer it down so don't be directly on the other side but close enough to still go 'Wow I want to give you a job, by the way you owe us one door you man among men' " was the graceful reference of "Worked for my Parents". Now I don't know how hard I must have hit my head, or perhaps the air was thinner back then and I was suffering from some sort of oxygen deficiency, but I do not think that putting that job reference was on my list of wise choices.
But alas, and I say alas, I got that one job, hated it, moved on to get a totally unrelated job doing accounting, enjoyed the people and the complete lack of effort it took, moved on to get paid in a continually downward spiral of compensation as the world's bitch for a while out in LA (again loving the people but not having to try too hard), and then to now where I am looking for work once again. The problem now being that I have experience in no one place. I think the only work references I could add to broaden my work base further would be a brief stint in the clergy and work as a professional dog walker (I do love puppies! and yes I can say that cause they are awesome and if you think otherwise you need to go back to the pawn shop where you traded in your soul for a box of cracker jacks with the decoder ring prize). So I am finding it strange to decide what to do for work and am looking for a mythical position as a movie maker for a engineering franchise. I'm thinking Myth Busters would have me click my heels but only if I could be the guy with the beard, but pending that the search is ongoing.
Additionally I might add that this blog came about because I am tired of job searching and more importantly of government applications where I find that not only do I have to expand my (now tight and sleek) resume to a behemoth including everything I've done, thought, or thought about doing for the past 29 years (yes this includes incubation time and the more single minded thoughts I had as a sperm). And then on top of my now multiple page resume I have to pretend I am applying to college all over again by answering a plethora of questions that basically all say the same thing.
"How are you good at and how would you apply and what experience do you have with visual aids in a graphic nature?"
and
"How are you really awesome at, but not too awesome at, and how would you apply CLEVERLY as compared to uncleverly which we say is a word now, and what experience do you have with GRAPHIC aids in a VISUAL nature, oh yes, we switched it on you."
"How does us switching that on you make you feel? Does it make you feel happy, sad, quiet, loud, likebetrayingthegovernmentandsellingallitssecrets, blue, green, or like a balloon?"
Crafty bastards and their crafty questions intended to piss me off and give away my true intentions!
Concluded!
I am baffled, however, how I managed to get such a craptastic job coming out of undergrad. When I came out of undergrad I applied to, and keep in mind that this is the memory in my head, weather this happened or not I am not sure, a plethora of jobs with a resume' gleaming with awesomeness. But try as I might, there were so few nice jobs, and I was so downhearted at the time for the lack of jobs to test my might. There were only jobs like Linoleum Tester, and Drywall Construction, and Plumber. And which one did I settle for? Yes Settle, like some sort of butt ugly prom date who later turns out to be a man dressed up like a woman dressed up like a man dressed up like a women cause it was cold outside and they thought it best to dress in layers?? That's right, drywall construction. Or as I like to call it, Super Hell. Oh, yes, your good ol' Catholics had it right enough with the whole hell idea where people who sin and all those fun things go to learn their lessons, but they would jump for joy if they new about Super Hell.
Super Hell is where you go when you need money and want to work towards a bigger paycheck tomorrow, but will settle for anything because you lacked the foresight to locate yourself not in the middle of no-good-jobs-man-land like good ol MD. But I'm sure people out there love the ol' MD so I shall say nothing more on the matter other than, you should die, die for your sins, your sins being liking that hole of a state, you know the one, the one where happiness goes to Die. But I digress, working for a job because you need money is foolish, and I was foolish and it was bad. But where was I going with this... ah yea, my memory says that there were no good jobs, but as I apply now I see job after job that seems to be of an amazing quality, with science and technology and veritable jumping jacks of thoughtful challenges, and I wonder why I didn't see these before, and why I didn't get a job doing one of these things. Then I looked up my old engineering resume out of nostalgia and found out why.
My old resume, the golden gem that I remembered it being was littered with such wonderful engineering experience qualifiers such as, "Worked at the Library", a legitimate work reference even though it might lie on the outskirts, "Lifeguard" not what I might call the top reference for an engineering field, but look on the positive side, it puts a trained professional in the area should someone someone try to drown in the toilet or should everyone in the office spontaneously try to make for a large body of water, but I think my favorite qualifier, the one that on that resume said "I am your man, I am the person who will bring the qualities you need to your front door and hammer it down so don't be directly on the other side but close enough to still go 'Wow I want to give you a job, by the way you owe us one door you man among men' " was the graceful reference of "Worked for my Parents". Now I don't know how hard I must have hit my head, or perhaps the air was thinner back then and I was suffering from some sort of oxygen deficiency, but I do not think that putting that job reference was on my list of wise choices.
But alas, and I say alas, I got that one job, hated it, moved on to get a totally unrelated job doing accounting, enjoyed the people and the complete lack of effort it took, moved on to get paid in a continually downward spiral of compensation as the world's bitch for a while out in LA (again loving the people but not having to try too hard), and then to now where I am looking for work once again. The problem now being that I have experience in no one place. I think the only work references I could add to broaden my work base further would be a brief stint in the clergy and work as a professional dog walker (I do love puppies! and yes I can say that cause they are awesome and if you think otherwise you need to go back to the pawn shop where you traded in your soul for a box of cracker jacks with the decoder ring prize). So I am finding it strange to decide what to do for work and am looking for a mythical position as a movie maker for a engineering franchise. I'm thinking Myth Busters would have me click my heels but only if I could be the guy with the beard, but pending that the search is ongoing.
Additionally I might add that this blog came about because I am tired of job searching and more importantly of government applications where I find that not only do I have to expand my (now tight and sleek) resume to a behemoth including everything I've done, thought, or thought about doing for the past 29 years (yes this includes incubation time and the more single minded thoughts I had as a sperm). And then on top of my now multiple page resume I have to pretend I am applying to college all over again by answering a plethora of questions that basically all say the same thing.
"How are you good at and how would you apply and what experience do you have with visual aids in a graphic nature?"
and
"How are you really awesome at, but not too awesome at, and how would you apply CLEVERLY as compared to uncleverly which we say is a word now, and what experience do you have with GRAPHIC aids in a VISUAL nature, oh yes, we switched it on you."
"How does us switching that on you make you feel? Does it make you feel happy, sad, quiet, loud, likebetrayingthegovernmentandsellingallitssecrets, blue, green, or like a balloon?"
Crafty bastards and their crafty questions intended to piss me off and give away my true intentions!
Concluded!
Monday, October 6, 2008
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