Saturday, September 16, 2006

 

Updating the neglected blog...

So I've been busy. Here's an update with a new twist...footnotes!1 (They aren't interlinked. You're just going to have to scroll down. TFS.2)




Footnotes:
1: Yes, I've been reading David Foster Wallace lately. Sue me.
2: This stands for Tough Fucking Shit.
3: "Bachelor party" is in quotes because it wasn't much of a bachelor party, just me, Justin, and Ryan. Well, and Justin's friend Rob one night.
4: Actually, Elmhurst, IL, where Justin and Sarah live.
5: I know Cincinnati doesn't fit this.
6: This either.
7: The beloved "el".
8: I was dragged to an off-brand1 church on Easter, and there I fully developed my personal theology: I'm a Catholic atheist. I don't believe in all that "God" and "Jesus" stuff, but I like the weirdness of Catholicism: the saints, the stone-age approach to sexuality...it's fun. Plus, since I don't have a dominant ethnicity, I need a group to identify with.
9: Obviously.
10: And Barry Bonds even played! And hit a homer! I think Justin and I were the only people in our section who cheered for him2. Some douche heckled Justin, but he shut him up with a Sosa reference.
11: This post should explain why3.
12: Tasted like piss, but I have one of their t-shirts.
13: Bar drama is awesome. There were a few drunk girls there, so naturally some dumbass will try to hit on them...until the boyfriend shows up. Hi-larious.
14: My suggestion, and a hit.
15: Of Married...With Children fame.
16: The show was musical comedy, not straight improv. Some funny bits, a thumbs-up overall.4
17: This may or may not be what actually happened; just my recollection of the events.
18: Grand Victoria Casino in Elgin, IL.5
19: As usual.
20: Ditto.
21: I am an awful gambler6, mainly because I'm a pussy7.
22: Not as good as The Palm's, but what is?
23: Overall, a great weekend, bringing back memories of great, do-nothing college weekends involving the same three participants.
24: I've already told that story.8
25: Probably the last time I'll ever go there. The food was fine, but the place was filled with a bunch of faux-kitschy shit that just sort of creeped me out.
26: In case you're wondering9, it is still a shithole. Same old dirty-ass Dana's.10
27: Riding the first wave of gentrification...Ryan is a pioneer!
28: Caused by a combination of four things: I mixed alcohol11 the night before, too much sleep12, no coffee, and no food. Cured by a couple Excedrin Migraines and a pint of chocolate milk.13
29: Well, it was supposed to be Ault Park, but there was a private party there.
30: Ryan told a "funny" anecdote about the priest at Bellarmine14 saying it was good to get rid of old superstitions. I said that was rich coming from a Catholic priest.15
31: I hid in the corner of the lobby, of course.
32: i.e., essentially everyone.16 The one person who I had hoped was going to come (and RSVP'd) didn't.17
33: Here's the part where I'm going to explain myself. I had something of a romantic hope18 for the weekend, involving one person19. I had always thought this person and I had something of a connection, but typically I never did anything. However, she essentially ignored me the whole weekend -- so fuck it, oh well, water under the bridge, etc.20 But I met another girl that weekend21 who turned out to be super cool. And the shitty thing about this situtation, and that gets me down before anything even starts, is that I had been running in the same circles as this girl for like six years and I didn't even bother to meet her.22 Well, today's going to be different...except for the fact that I'm not exactly the best at many many things23, prominent among them talking to women. So anyway, I'm up on the stage eating, and guess what? This person has brought a date. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Now I'm going into that bad place. Now I'm refilling my champagne glass to the brim. Now I'm walking to the bar and ordering a Rolling Rock and going upstairs. Alone. What makes this situation even worse is that dude wasn't even a date, just a tagalong; the guy left early. And I had an entry. I had an opportunity. Towards the end of the evening, the DJ24 put on my favorite song of all time25 on, "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye. This is my time, right? I look down into the crowd and she's sitting alone. All I need to do is my biggest hurdle: do something. I should have done something, fucking anything instead of drinking alone. And it didn't happen, and I'll probably never see this person again, at least not in the same way.26
34: My cigar experience was just okay. I'm thinking seriously about getting a (tobacco) pipe.
35: That's right, I'm the last one standing.



Footnote Footnotes
1: i.e., Protestant.
2: Most were heckling him. Some asshole1 kept yelling "Steroids...Steroids..." Like really -- Barry Bonds? Steroids? This is the first I've heard of such a thing! Come on hecklers, be creative.
3: Why are Cub fans so damn loyal? They have sucked -- sucked! -- for the last 50 years. Christ, the Reds sucked for barely ten and fans are abandoning them in droves. Yeah, Wrigley is super cool, but that can't explain the whole thing.
4: This was almost ruined by the end, where the cast hugged the audience members. That's like my nightmare.2
5: Elgin is the weirdest town. Way out in the suburbs, but damn near 100% Hispanic.
6: And poker player.
7: I am very afraid of losing money, even when I had money to lose.
8: Christ that post is embarassing. I sound like such an asshole.
9: And since I'm the only person who reads this blog, I am.
10: Ryan said they refurbished the tables recently, but they're still carved up like always.
11: Cranberry/vodka(s), a sambuca3, and a few beers.
12: 10 hours, straight through. Just incredible, but I paid for it.
13: An underrated hangover/headache cure.
14: Your typical modern Jesuit: an ex-hippie in a Roman collar. This one had absolutely no sense of humor, though.
15: My comedic high point of the weekend.
16: I'm not complaining; it wasn't my party, and no one forced me to attend. I'm just explaining the situation.
17: He's out, probably for good.
18: Why do I do this? They never end well.
19: I'm not going to name this person, because, well, this is embarassing enough.4
20: Although I was texting one Randolph Diemar about this situation while it happened. He gave me the advice to go after this particular person, saying "Get down there and be Tom Selleck tonight".6 I was too far gone to do anything however.
21: op cit.
22: Even more reason for me to rue my early twenties.
23: Audience participation time! List some other things I suck at in the comments.5 I know you can do it.
24: A poor performance overall. He repeated a couple songs, played the fucking chicken dance when expressly told not to, and played "Golddigger". At a fucking wedding. It almost made me want to bring DJ Ointment out of retirement.7
25: Arguably.
26: That was a long footnote. I should probably delete it, because I will regret it tomorrow. But it needs to be said, and this is as good a place as any. The weird thing about this situation is that I've been feeling good lately. I like my job a great deal and the lows haven't been crater-deep like they have. But again, my biggest problem is getting myself to do something.



Footnote Footnote Footnotes
1: Not the same asshole who heckled Justin.
2: Sitting in the front row + strangers + touching = a big bag of anxiety for Tom.
3: An Italian liqueur (sp?).
4: Not that if you're unfamiliar with the situation it isn't easy enough to figure out. More of an Encyclopedia Brown case rather than Nero Wolfe.
5: I'll get you started: video games, blogging, driving.
6: The best advice he has ever given me.
7: Probably not good for a wedding though. I hear he only spins modal jazz and hardcore East Coast drug rap these days.

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