Fourth Weekend

This what I have on the agenda for today, Monday, July 7th, the first day back to work after the much-needed four day weekend. From 7:30 until about 8:00 this morning, I got caught up on office e-mail, cleaned the spam out of my Gmail inbox, and deleted a few unimportant emails without reading them. From about 8:00 until 9:00 this morning, I read an article on MSN about not being scammed by your auto mechanic. I then read an article about how the G8 summit was in the process of meeting on the state of things in Africa. After this, I moved over to Reuters and read through their Oddly Enough section. There was an article on how some guy in Germany, literally 12 minutes after the exhibit had opened to the general public, had torn the head off of the wax statue of Hitler in protest. Apparently the additon of the Hitler statue had caused quite the stir, and apparently the museum had no idea, since they apparently did not plan for its protection very extensively. It being around 9:30 or so as I write this, I've spent the last thirty minutes doing some rough documentation updates (read: actual work, though unimportant and tirelessly boring). I have roughly two hours to fill until lunch as my boss continues to delay my receipt of any meaningful work to do. I am running out of things to do, things which I have been making up off the top of my head just to stay busy and "productive" at work. Nearly every document that hasn't needed to be updated has been updated. Nearly every line of code has an attached comment stating what it does, even the most trivial and intuitive lines. So I will spend the next two hours writing this, attempting to stretch it out for as long as possible. I will also be fervently praying that someone signs onto Gchat, since Shelley is off in Nottingham having aural sex with Ben Folds.

That's ear fucking, everyone.

I'll also keep updating my Google Calendar with the most meaningless dates and appointments. For example, from 7 PM until about 11 PM, right after my dinner with Matt, I am scheduled to be punching Shelley right in the taint. Continuously. For four hours. If you want to see this event for yourself (and possibly join in the fun), feel free to request access to my calendar on Google.

If the above paragraphs do not clearly indicate to you what a sorry state I am in, I am uncertain on what I should say to convince you. Oh well. Maybe a recap of this past weekend will serve to alleviate the pressures of boredom that are crashing down upon me at this very moment.

Wednesday morning I woke up feeling pretty ragged. I managed to contract some sort of minor sinus ailment, I guess. By no means anywhere near what I have experienced in the past, but it was still very annoying. So I struggled through the first half of the day at work and decided to call it a day at 1 and just not come back. After taking the five hours of sick time, I still have something like 70 hours of sick time to use up over the rest of the year. That sounds like a pretty hefty sum, so I don't feel too bad about taking the half day. I spent the afternoon and evening leveling my new Gnome warrior.

Nowhere is my obsession with systems of character generation more evident than in World of Warcraft. I would have to say that over the years of my rather sporadic experiences with WoW, I've created literally HUNDREDS of characters. Most of those characters have made it no farther than level 8 or possibly level 10. Then I simply get bored with them, transfer all of their riches to a different character, and create again. The last time WoW thrust its hooks into me, I managed to get one character to 40. This was a huge milestone for me in my gaming life. For those nubs not familiar with WoW, level 40 is the level where you get the right to buy your first horse, or mechanical turkey, or tiger. Or whatever. You get your mount. Not only does this new toy look cool (you can ride a damn tiger), it allows you to move through the gameworld twice as fast. Everything gets so much better at level 40 because of this fact. Since this time, I've been doing a lot better with sticking with a character for longer than a handful of levels. When I was in Austin, I got John back into the game. We started characters at the same time, and I managed to get that one to level 21 before I got a little bored. I also wanted to give John a bit of time to catch up level-wise so we could continue questing together at some point.

But the draw of the Gnome warrior is strong with this one. It's a character concept that I've come back to time and time again over the years. I think it has something to do with the idea of a wee man, wrapped in armor that is far too big for him and carrying a sword that is three times his size, standing toe to toe with the forces of evil and darkness. There are shields which you can get in the game which are larger than your entire body. This is an idea I can get behind. So I set out on one final quest for Gnome-warrior-ship. Spurred forward by some unseen, malevolent force, I played him for six hours off and on over the course of Wednesday afternoon and evening. I spent four hours Thursday morning on this same task. The rest of the weekend followed suit. A significant portion of my time was dedicated to my Gnome warrior, with a few fortunate and unfortunate events tossed in that will be detailed in a moment. I'm happy to say that he is now level 29, and he is still enjoyable. Hopefully I can get him to 40 and get one of those mechanical turkeys to ride around on.

God, this post is really terrible.

Where was I?

Right, Thursday. As many of you know, July 3rd is when the city of Addison puts on Kaboom Town, the definitive fireworks exhibition in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. It is also the event which creates the most prodigious traffic clusterfuck this side of the Mississippi, but that is really neither here nor there. Matt decided to accompany me. We went with my Dad and Pamela to Mr. McIntyre's office for some fried chicken, and then we went down to the Addison airport to see the fireworks. They did not disappoint.

Friday morning, Dad and I went to see Hancock. I would give it a 7. It was entertaining (mainly because of the comedic skills of Mr. Michael Bluth), but it was certainly nothing special.

The ride home saw me with a blow out on the Bush and a tire change inches away from death at the hands of unsympathetic Dallas traffic. It could have been worse. The true horror would follow the next day when I took the car in to get the tire replaced. Three hundred and fifty fucking dollars for one tire. I'll give you a moment to let that sink in.

Three hundred. Plus fifty. Dollars.

One tire.

Wowie. Dad and I were pretty upset as we were convinced there had to be SOMETHING wrong with the tire, as in some manufacturing defect that would be covered under warranty. The car only has 10,000 miles on it, we had checked the tread and pressure just a day prior because I had noticed some sluggish response over the preceding days (read: when I gunned it off the line, I wasn't getting the 0 - 60 acceleration that I was back when I first purchased the car, and I noticed the back end would want to come around on me when accelerating on anything but a straight line). I had plans to take the car in over the weekend to get this issue resolved when the damn thing blew up on me. I got the Tire Pressure warning light about one minute before the thing blew on me. The dealer said it had to have been a road hazard, a piece of debris that punctured the tire, which isn't covered under warranty. They even drew attention to a puncture hole on the tire, though this was after I raised quite a fuss at the dealership. I would not be surprised if they had taken a knife to the damn thing while I was in the waiting room, but that isn't likely. At the end, due to the racket that my father and I raised, they gave us the Discount Tire price on the tire and didn't make us pay for labor, which would have made the price closer to $400 instead of the $350 I had to pay. Dad is still pretty hopeful we can get some more money back by speaking with Infiniti customer service further. I still have the old tire in my trunk, which when heated in my trunk, causes a really pleasant burnt rubber odor to waft over the entire cabin. I just don't know where else to put it. Maybe I can put it on my balcony in hopes that it won't make my entire apartment smell of burnt death.

So that was my Saturday afternoon.

Saturday evening was church. Then Dad and Pamela came to Fort Worth. We walked downtown, searching for a nice restaurant to go to for a belated birthday dinner. We stumbled upon this place called Taverna, which apparently also exists in Austin (on 2nd Street) and in the Knox-Henderson area in Dallas. It was pretty damned incredible. They are known for their risotto, so I had to try some of that. The one I had came with wild boar sausage, mushrooms, and cranberries, among other things. It was pretty much sex. Dad had a roast duck, and Pamela went for the shrimp and saffron risotto. I had a white chocolate mouse for dessert. The restaurant itself was not very expensive, and I have hopes to go back there many, many times. After dinner we went to 8.0, which is a bar/live music place about two blocks from my apartment. I had been there once before with work friend, Connor, and some of his lady friends. It is basically just a big courtyard on the corner where you can drink and watch a cover band. The band was The Space Rockers, who are from Austin. They reminded me of the Spazmatics, in that they dressed up in outfits reminiscent of late-90s Power Rangers and played 80s music. They also played some more current stuff, unlike the Spazmatics. They were not as good, but they will certainly do in a pinch.

I pounded back three vodka sours before we went home around midnight. All in all, it was a really pleasant evening. It would have been even better if the fiasco with the car hadn't occurred, but whatever. I'm done complaining.

Sunday consisted of watching a shitload of tennis (though miraculously missing the conclusion of the match . . . a match being hailed as the greatest in tennis history), ultimate practice, and more WoW.

All things considered, it was a really good and relaxing break. Oh, I managed to pick up P.S. I Love You on Blu-ray for $12. That is a really good movie. You should see it.

Birthday

Hey, everybody. Yesterday was my birthday, which I guess is exciting. Everyone always talks of how boring and anticlimactic every birthday is after your 21st birthday. I have no evidence from this year or last year to refute that statement (aside from my trip to see Robosaurus for my 22nd, mentioned below), but I do think it interesting to note that this year's birthday was the first birthday I've had outside of my home, away from my parents, and away from school. You could say that it was my first "grown-up" birthday, which I guess is something. My first "solo" birthday. Really, I've just come to the conclusion that I've enjoyed "grown-up" birthdays pretty much since I was too old for Transformers cakes with matching plates and napkins.

Wait, scratch that. If anyone wants to hook this up, I will love you forever.

But seriously, once I transitioned away from theme parties thrown by my mother, I've been more in favor of lower key gatherings, smaller functions, more intimate settings. I remember a few birthdays, like the birthday after Freshman year that we had at my mom's house in Plano. I remember getting sippy cups from Madelyn, and some really kickass Nintendo wristbands from . . . someone. It might have been a combined effort? Knowing her penchant for incredible gifts, I am almost certain Shelley was involved. Or was it John? Or Lisa? I can't remember at all. Sorry! I still have all of those, and they were quite the envy of the entire ultimate team. I remember the night being similar to my New Year's gatherings, but far more muted. It was just a chance for everyone to get together and enjoy everyone's company.

I remember that even my 21st birthday was pretty low key, maybe a little too low key. I don't think Shelley was there, for whatever reason, nor was Brandan. Probably because they hated me. But Lauren was there, and a few rather random fringe-friends that we managed to round up at the last moment, mostly roomates from that summer that I had close to zero connection with. I'm not sure why, but the entire night just seemed odd to me. A little off somehow. I remember getting my free t-shirt at the Aquarium, and I remember apple martinis at Apple Bar. Oh, I remember why the birthday felt kind of off. Cory was insistent on dictating where we went and when, which kind of pissed me off at the time. Of course, this was par for the course with him, I would learn over the next year, but at the time I remember it really bothering me. Anyway, enough about that.

I remember distinctly one of the best birthdays I've ever had, the birthday after Sophomore year where we held the party in Austin at Lauren's place. Lauren and I were at our best then, and everyone came down to celebrate with me. I know John was there, and Ben and Matt possibly as well. I even think Mike was there, but I might totally be making that one up. Shelley was there, I'm sure, just as she's always been there for the past (almost) six years. And of course Lauren was there, the organizer of it all and the brilliant host that she was. I distinctly remember making some sort of birthday toast before we cut the cake, thanking everyone for driving such a long distance and bothering to travel to come hang out with me on my birthday. And of course, I distinctly remember how much it upset Lauren that I somehow managed to not mention her in my little speech. And even though I am certain I thanked her countless times and doted on her far more than she probably would have liked (read: suffocated), I can't blame her for being upset. I honestly am not sure why I didn't thank her specifically. Without her the day would have been far less special. That's been something that's really bothered me for the past few years now, and I'm not sure it will ever stop bothering me.

And who could forget Shelley and I's trip to the Transformers Experience? I've effectively deified that night and the poster I got from it, which is hanging proudly on the wall across from my couch. A true place of honor, I think. It's really pretty sad to think that that was a whole year ago. Time moves so quickly, some times, and so slowly at other times. This current time being one example, where I find myself in a near empty office with little work to do, once again waiting on some semblance of a response from my over-stretched boss.

I digress.

Last night, I took off about an hour early from work. I got a haircut, and went to Gingerman for a happy hour with some work friends. They have a pub quiz there every Thursday night. Unfortunately for us, the guy who runs it was sick (I call bullshit), so the trivia was cancelled. I was pretty upset, until I remembered that the real reason we went there was to drink. I had an amber bock from the Rahr brewery, which is in downtown Fort Worth, and I had the Arrogant Bastard ale from, I think, Stone Brewery. It had more hops than I ever would have expected or desired in a single pint of beer. After a few drinks, we went back to my place and played Rock Band for a little bit. After everyone left, I watched some of my soccer on DVR (I am glad Spain won, I really enjoy their team . . . Unfortunately, they'll be coming up against my German powerhouse in the finals.) and played some WoW. Overall, a great night, but probably one that I won't remember for long. At least I found out where the Gingerman Fort Worth is. It is almost exactly like the one in Austin, except it looks a lot older and more established. It looks like an actual pub. I think the one in Austin is nicer and a lot cooler, but the wall of taps is the same, and that, I think, is the real reason people go there.

This weekend John and I are celebrating together with a (what appears to be) small gathering at his place. I believe the plan is to have a few drinks, get some dinner, go see Wall-E, and have some more drinks. I can't argue with any of these plans, especially since I just read that Wall-E was given four and a half stars and dubbed the "best robot movie of all time". As I was saying to Shelley a moment ago, apparently they have not seen the Transformers animated movie, but I will let it slide this one time. I am really excited for this movie.

I've rambled for long enough. I will conclude by saying the new Coldplay is solid from start to finish, the new Lil' Wayne is great after a few listens through, We The Kings still bring the emotionally imature emo rock that I love. That is all. Good day.

Quote

"Though in times of peace we get, perhaps (and naturally and for the purpose rightly), too engrossed in thinking of everything as a preparation or training or a making one fit - for what? At any minute it is what we are and are doing, not what we plan to be and do that counts."

-- J.R.R. Tolkien, in a letter to his son, Michael, in October of 1940

The Return

I’ve been listening to a lot of pop and rap and radio rock recently (though I think finely mixed with some real substance). I think every once in a while I like to enjoy something in a more shallow fashion; to approach a song and tell myself that it doesn’t have to change my life, alter my perception of the world, tug on my heartstrings, or anything else. It just has to make my head bob. Not everybody can do this. Not everyone can admit they like these songs because sometime around 1998 it became uncool to admit that you listen to the radio or get your musical picks from the space between “The X Effect” and “The Real World”. And that’s fine. Musical taste is a virtue, something I actively look for in friends, girlfriends, random homosexual encounters. But some people, I think, miss out on a lot of fun music simply because it isn’t up to some standard they’ve set for themselves and their auditory canal. And maybe that was me at some point. I’m glad I’ve gotten over it, if so.

So what, exactly, have I been screaming along to in the car, unabashedly? The new Lil’ Wayne, remix or no, really has me going. The song is absolutely ridiculous, but I love Wayne. Best rapper alive. I’ve also been sucked in by this indie pop rock Cartel-sound-a-like We the Kings that make no illusions about being solely about radio-friendly emo ballads targeted at those poor tweens on the back of the middle school bus with the asymmetrical hair and four belts sitting uselessly around their waist (but suspiciously outside of the belt loops, go figure). And it’s great. It doesn’t sound unique. It’s not overly technical or substantial. But it’s got a good melody and a solid rock beat. I would recommend “Check Yes Juliet” if you’re able to leave your musical snobbery elsewhere and want to get in touch with your inner angst-ridden fourteen year old. Having done that, “Skyway Avenue”. Oh, and “It Hurts” from Angels and Airwaves. Because I do what I want.

I still can’t get over the new Weepies album, nor can I get over this song by some total bro named Joshua Radin (featuring the lovely and stellar Ingrid Michaelson) that I managed to hear on Grey’s Anatomy while waiting for LOST to come on, named “Sky”. You should also feel free to check out “Fear You Won’t Fall”. His EP might have something you like outside those two (there are two others to pick from), but those are the highlights for me.

London was great . . . for the first three days. Then I managed to come down with some terrible stomach virus which saw me on the toilet every thirty minutes for about 72 hours, including the ten hour flight home. I’d rather not talk about the depth of depravity that was reached during this time. Recalling the events in even such a fleeting way as to write this paragraph is crippling emotionally. It is safe to say that the plane ride home was one of the worst times of my life, and (though this may be attributed to its recent occurrence, comparatively) may rival my jaw surgery in terms of excruciating pain and “WHY GOD” moments.

I’ve been able to keep my insides relatively intact for the last 48 hours now (with considerable effort), and I’m actually back at work as I write this (for the second day in a row), having actually slept and eaten several-hundred-infinity times more than I did over the weekend. But I am not 100%, and I have plans to see the Doctor on Friday afternoon in hopes that he’ll get everything sorted out permanently. I need to get my energy back prior to my move next weekend so that I can actually pack and get everything ready. I set up my electricity today, which I guess was a step in the right direction. I still need to call the cable guy later this week too. Someone remind me to do that.

I’ve gone on for long enough. I’ll try and throw some pictures up when I get home, or at least, I’ll throw a link up to somewhere on the web where you can go look at them. I’ll save any recounts of my travels and travails until that time.

Edited to Add: I think Cheese Rolling might be my all-time favorite sport to watch. I like to think of it as the Ninja Warrior of England, in that I've only ever seen one man make it completely down the hill without fucking himself up severely.

Chuckle

Political humor. Obama rules. Or is it O'Doyle?