Getting the Band back together

Four Freaking Years?!?!

So I realize that I dropped off the face of the earth and no one probably cares about my little corner of the internet anymore, but I've decided, with the encouragement of a friend or two, to get back into some writing.

I'll be updating the website and making some changes here and there as time goes on, but for now it's back to me posting (very) infrequently my musings on life.

If you don't know what's been going on in my life over the last four years... tough, I'm not going to try to sum up the last 1565 days in a few short (ok long...) paragraphs.  But I'm sure I'll fill in some history as we go along, and in the mean time if you have any questions or suggestions feel free to leave them for me.  I won't be talking about work stuff too much for obvious reasons, and there's not much to talk about in my personal life right, so it could turn out to be a very boring blog...  Oh well.


Enjoy the ride.

-B

Dumped by the Crush...

I'm never talking about my hopes or dreams in this blog again.

Instead of getting our "crush" house and being able to post that I had a fantastic place to live like I waxed about in yesterday's post we found out that someone had gotten their application in sooner and the house was theirs.

So we're back to square one. And I find myself wishing for just a nice place, and not holding out for a crush worthy place.

One really amusing (and slightly scary) part of today was all of my roommates having "RIP Brian Evans" as their away messages. Not entirely sure why, though I like the explanation that they wanted me to sleep (rest) well (in peace) (at least it's a better reason then they all wish me dead). But it did allow me the opportunity to quote my favorite quotable writer, Mark Twain, "The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." (god I'm such a dork).


-B


WILTN: Warped Tour Compilation 2006 (50 random bands with new songs for 10 bucks... it's a steal every year)

Better Man

So I've said it before, I don't like posting in times of great stress, change or sadness. I'd just hate this blog to turn into a bitching session and I don't feel like I write as well (or at least I'm not as funny) if I have other things on my mind... This is one of the many reasons (along with my lack of talent) that I can never be a professional writer who has deadlines. So yeah I offer no apologies (although I am a little sad no one's been harassing me about a new post, for as much as I poke fun at them it at least lets me know that people enjoy them and want more) and I'll just bring you up to speed.

So the first big thing that could fall under either the stress or change categories of why I haven't been posting is my impending homelessness. Ok it's not really that dramatic... but our property manager told us May 15th that the property owner was selling all his investment properties as their leases were expiring so come July 1st we don't have a place to live. This sent into motion one of the most cluster fuck of a home searches in history. I wasn't so worried about finding a place right away because we had 45 days and most of the places that were advertised were available at the latest on June 15th. So in my mind there was no point in looking at houses until at least the last week of May or the beginning of June.

Of course my roommates (or anyone else for that matter) don't think the way I do and so a search was initiated immediately. After hearing me start to bitch Robert called for a house meeting that Saturday where we laid out some parameters on what we wanted/needed in a house, and it was surprisingly productive, Steve even called it, "The closest thing to a 'Power Lunch' any of us had ever been too." But this just brought up another problem, (ok more like annoyance to me) when I got to work invariably Robert would show me all the houses he'd seen while looking on craigslist, I'd check my email and see that Steve had sent me links to the crème of that crop and I'd get home and I'd have IMs from Chris waiting for me with the same damn houses. I actually stopped checking craigslist and started looking for different places that advertised houses for rent.

Steve found the best alternative in a website that a realtor we've nicknamed "Smokey" had his listings on (and yeah that really is the picture he uses on his website). One of his houses we've dubbed "Crush" because well... when looking at it online I told Robert that it was by far my favorite so far and that I had a bit of a crush on it... And of course this got back to Chris and Steve and the rest as they say is history. And then we looked at it this past weekend and I fell in love a little bit more... it's a three story, recently renovated row house about 6 blocks from Union Station with an elementary school playground across the street from it. We went ahead and applied for it and hopefully we should hear back in the next few days.

The prospect of living down on Capitol Hill really excites me, there are so many bars and so much to do around there, it's in walking distance to practically everything I really hope we get this place. Sure my commute will be about 10 times as long but I've been insanely spoiled the last year and a half. And Robert and I will even start carpooling to work together.

"How will they be able to commute together with Brian working overnight?" you may ask. Well I may then tell you that I'm currently training my replacement. (Ok well obviously not right now... in fact I'm just making her do all the work while I slack off, all in the name of making sure she can do it all on her own, it's great.) "Wow, Brian that's great news! Now we'll be able to hang out more!" I'm sure you would respond. To that I would add, "Yes and I may just buy you a drink to celebrate the fact that not only am I being cured of my Vampirism, but I'm also getting a promotion and will be the Front Desk Supervisor Monday thru Thursday."

This was another change/stress that I was going through the last few weeks. Caitlin (the Front Desk Manager) announced that we were restructuring the Front Desk, we added an Assistant Manager and rearranged the supervisors schedule so there'd only be one per shift and there would be 4 shifts. So I applied for the Assistant Manager and to be a Supervisor and after two interviews, an application and a case study on how to improve customer service at the front desk I found out yesterday (Monday) that I got the Supervisor job.

I'm a little disappointed, I wanted Assistant Manager and I thought I was the best one for the job. But I haven't been a Supervisor yet, and Rory, the dude who got it, has been for almost a year and I think he'll do a pretty good job (just not as good as I would have done). But I'm also really excited to take on more responsibility and any promotion is cause for celebration and the pay is pretty good too.

Oh shit, I almost forgot to tell you about one of the highlights of the year. Last Tuesday I saw Pearl Jam at the Verizon Center. It was awesome, they played some old songs I hadn't heard live before (Leash, an awesome version of Release to open the set and Alive), the new stuff sounded awesome and they seemed to be in really good form, Mike McCready was really the star of the show bouncing around playing a bitching solo on Rearview BEHIND HIS F'ING BACK! The sound quality was a little disappointing, sometimes the vocals especially sounded muddy, but I think a lot of that had to do with our seats being where it seemed two of the speaker banks overlapped at an odd angle so there was some echo. But I downloaded the bootleg and that sounded really good, so I really believe it was just the seats. You can see the set list here.

I was really surprised at Eddie Vedder's lack of political commentary, it seems most bands feel that because we're in the nation's capital they need to make some sort of statement. But the only thing he said about DC was how nice Mount Pleasant had been for them the night before and he made one joke about Dick Cheney calling him ("Hello this is Dick Cheney"/"Hello Dick.") and requesting "Fuckin' Up" by Neil Young (with the chorus comprised solely of "Why do I keep Fuckin' Up?"). It really impressed me that they just came played a kick ass show and left the politics at home. They just reestablished why they're one of my favorite bands.

Anyway now that things are starting to settle down with my life, hopefully I'll post more. But no promises. With any luck I'll be posting next week to let you all know where I'll be living and how the Tom Petty concert this weekend was. I hope things are going well with you, please harass me to post more often, it lets me know you care.


-B


WILTN: Pearl Jam - "Porch" & "Inside Job"

Tales of Electical Fires, the Sport of Kings, Trying to Kill JP and Going Gray

Y'know it's funny, after about 2 and a half weeks without a post it starts. I start getting IM's "Hey where's the new post bastard?" "I've got a great idea for something you can talk about..." or "It's time for a new post. Ready? Set? Go!" I promise you I haven't been lacking for things to write about the last two weeks. In fact I've started some posts that I've been positivly giddy about but had to cut them short because something has inevitably come up at work or I've just been too tired to be coherent.

For example this last week I thought the fact that from Monday at 6am until Friday at 7:30am I would spend exactly half of my life (48 out of 96 hours) within the lovely confines of Friendship Hospital for Animals (thanks to the new computer system training we have to go through) was rather humorous. Until I did the math and I realized that I've only gotten about one hour of sleep for every 2 hours I've been here at work (22/48). I'm not complaining, the various reasons range from stupid computer training to having lunch with the delightful Leigh to a cleaning lady (don't ask) to the house nearly burning down (ok so that's really all of the reasons... moving on).

And yes you read that right, my house was in danger of burning down on Thursday. And I'm not talking about your "Oh my god Chris is cooking!" almost burned down, I mean "Holy electrical fire Batman! We're going to die!" It started somewhere around 12:30ish, I think, when Chris came knocking on my door to rouse me out of what had the potential to be the first day with more than 5hrs of uninterrupted sleep all week. Supressing my desire to kill him and then go on a murderous rampage for waking me up in the middle of the day for the second straight day, I manage to ask what he wants. "Umm yeah... we may have a bit of a problem. It ahh may become a major problem..." "What is it Chris?(I swear if this is about the internet being out or something else you could handle I'm going to rip your throat out)" "Umm I can't really describe it but you really need to come upstairs and take a look at this."

Muttering to myself a string of profanaties not even suitable for the Internet I throw on some shorts and a tshirt and I stumble my way upstairs. When I got there my nostirls were attacked by the one of the foulest odors I've smelled in a while (and I routinely clean up dog shit). He pointed to one of the electical sockets on the wall and it was black and brown (it's usually white) and from inside I could see a bright reddish/orange glow. Yup we're about half a step from an electical fire. I begurdingly admitted to Chris that this was an ok reason to wake me up in the middle of the day.

After figuring it out (and conferring with Farrow for a second) I ran downstairs to turn the circut breaker off only to find that they're not labeled so I have to plunge the house into darkness and then try to figure out which ones I can turn back on without burning down the house. In the middle of all of this I called our property manager and his first response was to tell me that he didn't know if he could make it out to our house today. I reiterated that there was the potential of the house burning down and he said that he'd be out in an hour or so.

He showed up needed to replace the outlet and the wire that brought power up to it saying that the wire had overheated (due surprisingly more to old age than overusage) and had started to melt. Oh and about a quarter of the outlet itself had been burned away... yeah needless to say I felt really safe, espeically since the only working firealarm in our house is IN THE BASEMENT!! Ok so the safety violation is mostly our fault... but still...

In other random electical fire related news (and skipping waaay ahead in the story)... Saturday night after getting in from a night out my dad IMs me saying "Hey, we've had some excitement tonight, the fire trucks just left, call home if you can." Now lemme tell you, there's nothing like an IM from your folks at 3:30 am where fire trucks are mentioned to scare out any reminents of alcohol that may still be in your system from a night out. It seems they were awoken by the firealarm in their house going off around 1am because the power outlet one of their computers was plugged into had started smoldering, and singed the floor and the desk it was under. The upstairs filled with smoke they cut power to the house, called 911 and scrambled the volunteer fire department. By the time the Firemen got there the power strip had stopped smoldering and there wasn't much for them to do except have the Fire Marshal verify that the house was ok. But they said that 3 fire trucks had been scrambled and there were 4 cop cars. The neighbors must now be wondering what kind of crazy people have moved in. And if you ask me, the gods of electicity and fire are doing their damndest to kill me and mine...

Anyway... I had a bunch of other good stories to share with you including ones that involved such great quotes as "Is she hot? No. Would I do her? Yeah." (Steve)"Well at this point we're almost at Archibald's..." (Female I'll refrain from naming)"Oh! Let's go there!" (and yes she was serious, and yes we did go, and yes she did put cash in a strippers' garder belt)(and yes it was awesome). "We may be driving to Krupins to pickup food, but that's not half as bad as the River Road girls paying a service to pick it up and deliver it around the block." "I'm gonna show him my Pete Orr Face, Orr! Orr! Orr!" (heh, despite what Olker said that still hasn't gotten old and it's been like 3 weeks.) And "Well boys, I think we're about to find out that we just kissed our sister." (and it turned out that proverbially we had). But now the stories happened so long ago I can't remember them or they're just not as funny anymore.

Ok well I feel I should elaborate on that last one. It was two weeks ago at the Inagural Kappa Rho Classic (the golf tournament the Kappa Rho Housing Corps threw to raise money for the undergrad housing fund). It was mostly Alumni (the usual suspects of George, James, Drob, Farrow, myself, ect) but we were allowed to bring family or close friends to play and I invited my dad. So he and my mom came down for the weekend (She spent Sunday at the O's game) and we played with Farrow and a NIB. It was a capitan's choice format tournament (where everyone tees off, you pick the best ball, everyone hits from there and so on) and we had a blast. I played decently for me, meaning that I actually contributed a few times and we ended the round at 2 under par. As we were walking off we tried to figure out what it would take to win and decided that a 3 under was probably the winner and my dad dropped the aforementioned quote and sure enough it was true. We came in second by one stroke to Will and a Sig from Mason playing with his dad.

Despite loosing Dad and I had alot of fun, he was driving the ball really well and I think he just loved being out on the course with me. The only thing he was disapointed in was not winning the longest drive conpitition (he shanked his drive on that hole into the woods and was still grumbling about two holes later). The only thing I was disapointed in was not putting on sunscreen. I got the shit burned out of my neck and arms and it didn't start looking better until this weekend. (Where as you'll read I F'ed it up again.)

This weekend was pretty awesome, I've noticed that I've had alot of these lately and it got me thinking that I really do have alot of fun. Work can sometimes wear me down and I can feel pretty tired and burned out, mostly due to my schedual not so much work itself, but like a kid my age should I play hard on the weekends and all in all I have a pretty good life, minus a piece or two, but again I'll get to that in a minute.

Friday was JP's birthday and a few of us took him out to Old Ebbot's Grille for dinner and then we hit up Cap Lounge afterwards for drinks. It was great, dinner was really good and a lot of fun of course but the bar afterwards was unbelievable. As you can see in the picture Holly (who is unforunatly not pictured) made tshirts for all of us that said "JP-Palooza" on the front and had a few different things on the back, including a picutre of JP fondling himself in a cocnut bra with the tagline "Ok... I'm ready... Get my Alf DVD" underneath it (as you can see). And yes the guy in the first picture who isn't JP or me is the bartender, how awesome is that? The only hiccup in the night was when JP's ex showed up, made out with her new marine "boyfriend" (that's in quotes because they've only been dating a week) right in front of us, ignored us for the rest of the evening and then she called JP later saying that she just heard she missed us and how sorry she was that she didn't say hi... We all thought it was more than a little suspect but decided that it was definatly not worth ruining an otherwise awesome night.



Part two of JP-Palooza entitled "You Gonna Die Boy" by the one and only Rob Farrow was held Saturday night at our favorite watering hold of late The 18th Amendment. By the time I got there Farrow was already well on his way to fufilling his mission. JP sure as hell was drunk and having a good time (there are some somewhat scandelous pictures of JP dancing that I'll be kind and not post, happy birthday buddy). I'm not sure if he popped or not but it was funny because he came out of the bathroom about 1ish with a blank look on his face and turned to Holly saying "It's time to go," and they went.

Even after he left most of us stayed and closed down the bar. I remember sitting there at one point just shaking my head, loving life. The boys were all hanging out watching Sports Center, drinking beer and BSing while the girls (led by Emily) were dancing at the end of the bar making fun of us trying (not always in vain, as shown) to get us to come dance with them, it really was just perfect. The only sad thing was it made me realize one or two pieces of my life that would have fit in perfectly that were missing.


Ok that was sappy enough, onto the least sappy thing I can think of... spending time with Farrow. Y'see Saturday he convinced me (ok he really didn't have to twist my arm, he just asked) to take him up to Pimlico for the Kentucky Derby. We went up for the day and he introduced me to betting on horses. Now I'm not really a gambling man, but I had alot of fun and I won money. Not much mind you, just enough to pay for the meal we had and a tank of gas (that I would have needed anyway) but I didn't loose money and that's the key. Granted I was the only one who won, but that's how the cookie crumbles. Not that I have any hopes of actually being successfull betting on horses longterm, infact I should probably just quit while I'm ahead but we all know Farrow's gonna drag me (again I'm sure he'll really have to blackmail me into going...).

The other highlight of this past weekend was playing golf with the boys on Sunday. I shot one of the best rounds of my (extremely) short golfing career, granted it was still the worst of the 4 of us but I'm getting better and having fun doing it. Heh, and even though I was once again a moron and forgot to put on sunscreen (you'd think I'd have learned by now) due to a bit of a base tan and the fact that it was really sunny out (it was a beautiful day, the sun just wasn't beating down on us like last Sunday) I didn't burn too much more.

While out there I realized how out of date my clubs were, I've had them since the summer after we moved back from Italy, and man are they getting a little worn down and banged up. So I called my folks and started telling my dad about the round and how much fun I was having playing golf in general. Before I could even broach the subject he said, "So I guess this means you want a new set of clubs huh?" So sure enough my Birthday/Christmas present this year is going to be new clubs and I can't tell you how geeked out I am about it. Of course this could just mean that I'm getting old and enjoying stuff like golf more, but I'm strangely ok with it.

One aspect of getting older that I'm decidely not ok with is getting gray hairs... Yup I got my first one last week. One of my co-workers, Lisa, was standing over me she looked down at the top of my head and said, "Oh god honey, you've got a gray hair!" I freaked out a bit, called Robert over and had him verify that I did indeed have one, hoping that it was some sick strange joke she was playing on me. So I had them pluck it out so I could see it and sure enough it was gray. (Of course it wasn't until afterwards that I rememberd what people say about, you pluck one and three more grow in it's place or the Sex and the City quote (that I'm paraphrazing here) "You pluck one gray hair and six come to it's funeral") The weird thing about it was that it was kind of striped, like it started out brown, then there was a gray strip more brown more gray then the end was brown.

So with any luck it was just because of stress and I'm not actually going gray... But my mom was gray in her very early 30's her mother was gray in her mid 20's and her father was gray too... so it's looking like that I just have to get used to the idea. Heh of course when I told her about it she had to recount the story of the time when I was 8 or so and asked her, "Mommy when's your hair going to be brown again?" She glared at me for half a second and said, "Tomorrow Brian, tomorrow." and she's been dying it ever since... But this ranks even ahead of my sister turning 21 and me hearing the Red Hot Chilli Peppers on 94.7 (DC's classic rock station) as shocking holy shit I'm getting old moments in my life that make me want to freak out.

Anyway, I should get going, it's starting to get late and I've still got a bunch of work to do before I leave. I'm sorry once again about the delays in getting this post out there... in my defense I did start it on the 21st of April but couldn't finish it until now. I hope you enjoyed it even though it is spectacularly long. I hope everything's well in your world, I'll talk at you soon.


-B


WILTN: Pearl Jam (I can't tell you how excited I am about the new album)

You have a baby!...In a bar!

Yeah... that's kinda how I felt at one point on Saturday night. Not because there was an infant at the bar I was in... but because I was there having a drink with my sister. Anyway, I'm getting way ahead of myself. Let's back track a little over 24hrs. (And I promise I've never seen that movie, just the previews. Honestly! I swear!)

Anyway, rewinding a little over a day to Friday evening. I went to the home of inexpensive, but not too cheap in quality, designed with fun in mind, Swedish made furniture: Ikea! I've always loved going there, even as a little kid with my parents. It's like a giant playground only instead of swings, slides and monkey bars; they have chairs, tables and lofted beds. I was in the market for a new entertainment center and while I didn't get an "entertainment center" I did get a table for the kitchen (it's not a "kitchen table," it's taller, has less surface area, and wouldn't be good for eating on) that is going to do the job nicely (plus it matches the rest of the wood in my room unlike any of their entertainment centers). Steve bought us a nice new glass coffee table (I've foolishly picked the over on how long it will be before someone puts a foot through it, but hey, I've always been an optimist) and an awesome chair (it even has a fun name, "POÄNG")(anything with an umlaut is automatically a fun name)(yes even Mötley Crüe). Robert I'm afraid was really bored, but that's because it was his first time and he wasn't really looking to buy anything. (A special thanks to Lauren for getting us the van from Zipcar and driving us, I'd tell her she rocks, but she already knows it.)

After dinner with them I decided to go from one extreme end of the city to the other, and I met Matt and Jenny for drinks in Old Town Alexandria. We just had a few rounds at the Austin Grill down there, but I had a blast with them like I always do. Them getting married is one of those things that I can't believe is happening so soon but by the same token I can't believe it hasn't happened yet, they really are a great match a lot of fun together. I can't wait until Jenny's moved up here and they're inviting me over to their place for dinner parties, because that's what married people do right? Ok so let's be honest, that's only going to happen in Brian's delusional world of fantasy, the only meals we're going to be sharing are ordered off a menu at whatever restaurant they pick (to their credit they do know a lot of nice restaurants and I'm more than happy to let them decide).

Moving right along, Saturday afternoon was not quite but almost as bad as I'd feared it would be. I picked Nana up at 1:45 and before 2 she was already laying into me about why wasn't I in school, how I had no future and how on my present course I had no chance for "success" however she defines it. After about an hour and a half I'd finally convinced her that I was happy and that I had a plan and then she did a 180 saying how proud of me she was and how I had been raised with "true Evans values" (whatever that means) just like my father. I was kicking myself for not taking Sharice up on her offer of sedatives to slip my grandmother... if only I wasn't afraid that her old heart couldn't handle it (no that wasn't the only reason, I have a few morals, and yes I know, I'm going to hell). Needless to say I drove up there as quickly as possible without getting a ticket or yelled at too much by her. Over all she totally killed what had the potential to be an awesome drive. It was warm and sunny outside, so for the first hour I had the windows down and my stereo blasting (god XM radio is awesome on long trips like that one) but after I picked her up we were left with the AC and no music so we could talk...

Saturday night, as promised, I took my sister out for a few drinks to celebrate her 21st birthday... let me just repeat that and let it sink in... "I took my sister out for a few drinks to celebrate her 21st birthday." Yup sweet innocent little Tory is now 21. My baby sister is 21. I need a drink just thinking about it. We went to a small bar my cousin and his wife (who live in the area) had recommended to us called the Ship Inn. Getting there was a debacle and a half. A drive that should have taken 30 minutes took Tory and I 2 hours. Yeah, that's right it took four times as long as it should have. We got lost so many times I'm surprised we didn't end up half way to Pittsburgh. I blame a combination of Mapquest, Jersey country roads and a little bit of my own propensity to get lost, but mostly the first two.

Y'see country roads in Jersey like country roads in many states (including the great state of Maryland) have names and highway numbers. Only in Jersey the highway numbers stop, start and change whenever they feel like it. And mapquest, for all of it's usefulness in civilized cities and states, just can't keep up. I swear CR 579 stopped at a dead end, you had to drive down 2 other roads before you were magically on 579 again. I finally got fed up (ok I'd been fed up and frustrated for a while, but I finally swallowed my pride and admitted I couldn't do it without help) and called my mother, who found out where we were on a old fashion map (with no lack of confusion and frustration with Jersey roads on her part) and shocker it turns out I was about 3/4 of a mile from where I wanted to be.

Anyway, the bar was perfect for what I wanted for my sister and I, small, quiet and not crowded. We were able to have a few drinks in peace while a guy played some covers on an acoustic guitar. Yes I did try to get her drunk, no I didn't succeed. See she's not really used to drinking alcohol at all, so after her first drink (an amaretto sour, just about the grisliest non-alcoholic tasting drink I could think of) she started complaining about her stomach wasn't feeling too good. So she only sipped the Woodpecker Cider I got her next (she kept complaining that it tasted too much like beer) and because it took us so long to get there before she was even halfway finished with that it was last call. Despite any of that, we had a really good time, we made the most we could out of being lost, griping exaggeratedly about Jersey roads and what not and we had a lot of fun sharing a drink. I felt a bit like I didn’t fulfill my duty to get her drunk the weekend of her 21st, but it made me feel good that she couldn't drink enough to get there. Because my worst nightmare is her going out to a bar, getting drunk and meeting, well meeting a guy like me (not that I'm an awful person or anything, I just know what guys in bars are thinking and they're not allowed to think that about my baby sister, dammit!!)

The other exciting development from Saturday night was finding out there is a 24hr Dunkin' Donuts about a mile and a half from my parents new house. If there was a 24hr Dunkin' Donuts a block and a half (I figure that's about the city equivalent to a mile and a half in rural Jersey) from my house I'd be in trouble. I feel that my calorie intake would go up by about 200% a day...

We spent Easter at my Aunt Donna and Uncle Bill's place and that was really nice. I've always had a lot a lot of fun with my cousins. I spent the afternoon hanging out with Steve, his wife Trish, Amy and her boyfriend John. Trish and John have really become part of the family over the years, it's cool when family picks people you like to be their significant others. The whole thing got me thinking that maybe if I got to spend a few holiday's with certain members of my mom's family maybe my folk's relocation to Jersey would be all bad.

Nana was her usual pain in the assed self with her camera, but she seemed to do all right once my mother's godmother, Auntie Anne (yes... like the pretzel place, but no unfortunately not named after or owned by her) got there with a 90-year-old friend of hers and they sat in one corner grousing about politics. (Once again I'm going to hell, I know this.)

Well that's pretty much my weekend in review, it was great to see Toby, he seems to be slowly adjusting to the new house, but he was still glued to my side almost the entire time I was up there. (Yes I miss him too...) I did my now standard routine of getting a few hours sleep, then waking up and leaving my parents house at 1am. That drive down was pure Brian Evans. Only a little sleep, middle of the night, music blasting and lots of speed. I did the math and found that I averaged 68.42 mph on the way down, and that includes the back roads around my parent’s house and the last few miles of the trip in DC (it helped that once I hit the road I didn't stop).

I hope all is well in your world my dear readers. I hope you had a happy Easter (if you swing that way). Right now I've got to call my boss and give her the unfortunate news that she has to come in this morning because three most people have already called out for this morning. Have a great week and I'll talk at you later.


-B

Why do fortune cookies suck so much?

Hello faith readers... I'll quickly get the standard "I haven't written in two weeks" BS out of the way... Sorry haven't written... been busy... not much to say... I'm lame... You know the drill by now. Now onto the good stuff.

I guess I should start out with an Angela update... That's still an on going saga and I sometimes wonder if I'll ever see the end of it. No matter how many times we talk and have things settled or comfortable it seems things are back to square one the next day. (Ok so not nearly as bad as when we first broke up but still...) Anyway I probably shouldn't say much more about it, I shouldn't air out my dirty laundry in public (one of many old expressions I'm learning the meaning of, also on that list is, "Don't shit where you eat" (or some variant thereof) and "Fun crazy's still crazy").

Anyway, this past weekend was pretty awesome. Farrow and I went to all 3 O's/Sox games. And while the O's were swept, like someone smarter then myself once said, "A bad day at the Yard is still better than a good day most anywhere else." Plus the high comedy of Rob getting into a fight and going toe to toe with a 4 year old for the better part of an inning (yes he was drunk, and yes he was play arguing, "Yes he is/No he's not/Yes he is/No he's not") was well worth it. The only time the kid's dad got involved was when the kid proclaimed himself to be a Yankees fan, to which the dad quickly injected, "No you're not, do you dare say that!"

Other highlights of the weekend were missing a foul ball by three rows, watching a drunk O's fan puke in the bottom of the 8th inning in the middle of a (thankfully) empty row of seats gargle the taste out with some more beer and then keep right on drinking, hanging out with the guys at The wharf Rat (or Whale Snatch according to what Farrow swears Drob told him the place was called) during Saturday's rain delay, Rob wearing a woman's sweat shirt for most of Sunday's game, and the phone call I got from Farrow Sunday morning. I believe it went something like this:

Me: Hello?
Rob: Wake up asshole.
Me: Hey boss, how are you?
Rob: I'm still drunk and man do I stink.
Me: ... oh boy... you still wanna go to the game?
Rob: Why wouldn't I? Pick me up in a half hour.
**Click**

Yeah, it was good times, and of course that didn't stop us from knocking back a few more brews at the game (after a stop at 7-Eleven for some coffee and breakfast sandwiches). Hell Rob even got the afore mentioned girls sweatshirt from a beer vendor because, according to him, "see, it pays to be cute." Anyway we really did have a good weekend, and we agreed the only thing that would have made it better would have been to have played a round of golf Saturday morning before the game.

Of course I really didn't have the time to play golf this weekend because pretty much ever minute I didn't spend at The Yard I spent moving. Now don't worry your pretty little heads, I'm not leaving Brandywine, I'm just moving into Mikey's room. Yup after 3 years I'm finally emerging from the basement into the light of the upstairs world. You may ask why I'm giving up my own private bathroom and private entrance for a smaller room and a bathroom I'm sharing with two other people. Well, I admit I'm going to miss those things a great deal, I think that having heat in the winter and AC in the summer will be well worth the trade. That and light. Not the soft glow of three 60-watt lightbulbs, but the honest to goodness warmth of good old fashion sunlight. Something I've come to miss over the last three years and I feel I will appreciate much more once I get put back on the dayshift (yeah they keep telling me that replacing me is the highest priority hire for the front desk, but we'll see when that actually happens).

The biggest hassle with the whole moving thing is the sheer quantity of shit I have. I think there's a reason I've never lived anywhere longer than three and a half years. I feel that if I lived in one place for longer than that, the amount of useless crap I would accumulate would reach a critical mass, collapse in on itself and create a black hole that would destroy the planet. (Ok so that last sentence may have been way too melodramatic, geeky and scifi-y but you get the picture.) My problem has really been that I haven't had a good plan of attack, I've been haphazardly bringing stuff upstairs deciding if I really need/want it or not, throwing out what I can, and then trying to find a place for it in a smaller room with less storage space. My progress has been slow, but luckily Robert (who's taking over my room, a definite upgrade from the closet he's inhabited for the last year and a half) has been very patient (even helpful in moving my furniture).

In other moving news my folks have moved up to Jersey and have (mostly) settled in. I went up to visit them and drop Toby off a week and a half ago. The house is really nice. It's really big, open (the upstairs hall way is really a balcony that overlooks the foyer and the family room) and the property is beautiful (it's only about an acre/acre and a half, but the landscaping is beautiful). But it was so weird being up there.

For the first time where my parents live isn't home. I mean, I've been calling 4313 Brandywine "Home" for the last year and a half but when I really truly thought of home I thought of Meadow Wood Way in Clarksville. The River Hill Giant was my Giant, Freestate was the place to go to get cheap gas, and any given time I was running errands up there or in the Columbia Mall chances were really good that I'd bump into someone I knew or at least see someone I recognized (if nothing else I went to school with like 3-4 people who worked at the Ritz Camera there). I mean I never really had a strong love for or sense of pride in Clarksville, but it really was home and now I miss it and it makes me a little sad to think that that phase of my life is over.

Now I get to look forward to holidays in NJ like this coming Easter. Where I get the joy of picking Nana up in Bel Air and spend the next two and a half hours cooped up in the car with her. If you're watching the Saturday Evening News and see a story about (grand?)patricide please know that it was probably justifiable, take pity on me and maybe start raising money to help me post bail (please). Heh, she's crazy, last Tuesday before Uncle Jim's memorial dinner/wake thing, she gave me some literature she said she thought I could use. Five "Lifestyle Possibilities Manuals" she got in the 80's from the hospital she worked at titled, "Creative Thinking," "Connectedness," "Interpersonal Communications," "Self-Esteem," and my personal favorite, "Managing Change." Now this begs one to ask, does she think I'm depressed? does she know about all the change in my life and think I may need help? does she think I'm a troubled youth who needs direction? I'd bet no. My guess is that she found them while cleaning, wanted to get rid of them but not "waste" them and decided to dump them off on me. Doing this also makes her feel like she's helping out and is a good grandmother... (My suspicions were later given more solid ground to stand on when I talked to my mom and found out that Nana had tried to give them to her, but she said she didn't need them and didn't want to move them to Jersey).

Anyway I've got to run, it's time to go home. The question posed by the title was inspired by the two lamest fortunes I've ever seen. One said, "Have a beautiful day." and the other said,"You're a special person." or something equally as stupid (Jenny be proud of me I refrained from typing the word that initially came to mind). I remember when they would say stuff like, "Encouraging changes are not advertised on t.v," "Never stop at the weigh station on the road of life" and "You will die today." (Ok so that last one was from a Simpsons episode, eat my shorts.) Fortune Cookies used to be so much better, what happened? (Yeah, and I remember when the grass used to be greener, musicians used to write and sing their own songs and I used to be able to buy gas for under a buck.) (Ok I only made up the first one, but you get the point, I'm acting like a crotchety old man.)

Speaking of crotchety old men, I'm exhausted and need to get some sleep, so I'm going home.

Until next time dear readers, I remain,

-B

What do you mean Snow White doesn't have black hair?

(I started writing this a few days ago and didn't finish it, but it was just too funny to not publish it so just keep in mind that it was supposed to go up on the 24th.)

Ok so originally I was going to write a completely different post, but after this phone call, that I can only assume was a prank, I don't even remember what I was going to talk about. So I just have to share, not verbatim, but here's a recounting of it.

So for starters I get this call about 5am and the caller ID on the phones shows what it shows when it's an unlisted or caller ID blocked number. Off the bat the man on the other end is gay, I'm not making a judgment or being bigoted or anything, he sounded like an effeminate black man and he gave me his name (Michael) and his partner's name (Stephon). He's hysterical asking if I'm a Vet, that he needs to speak with a Vet and of course I tell him no, but if I can't answer his question I can get the answers for him. Thanking me profusely he says that his cat, Snow White, is so sick, sicker than he's ever seen her in fact. The cat's coughing and throwing up, they look like hairballs, is that normal? I breath a sigh of relief here figuring it's nothing serious and I can talk him through some stuff to do at home. I tell him yeah that a lot of times cats can get hairballs from licking/grooming themselves and they need to get rid of them it's not unusual at all that it's probably not an emergency unless it's a chronic problem that causes breathing issues.

He calms down a bit, says ok. Then asks if they're usually a different color than the cat's normal hair, the cat's hair is white and the hairballs look black and curly. As I start to tell him I'm not sure, he tells me to hold on that the cat's moving, he follows it into his bedroom saying that it's climbing under the covers. (At this point I know he's full of shit but I definitely want to see if he's got the constitution to take it al the way.) He says, "I'm pulling back the covers, OH MY GOD, SHE'S LICKING MY PARTNER'S BALLS! SHE'S LICKING MY PARTNER'S BALLS!" **CLICK**

I just about died. It had to have been a crank call but it was so funny. I just sat there slack jawed for about 30 seconds, burst out laughing and applauded my caller. While I can't award him full marks for believability (I had a number of doubts throughout), he stuck to the story, I've heard people nearly as crazy sounding as that and he definitely gets props for creativity.

I guess the moral of this story is that if you're going to crank call someone, do it to someone with a sense of humor and be creative. It made me laugh, I couldn't get pissed off at the guy and I wonder if he makes calls like this regularly. I'd love to see who else he calls at 5am and what stories he comes up with.

But on the off chance that he wasn't kidding... damn that's gross.


-B


WILTN: White Stripes "The Denial Twist"