So tomorrow I withdraw from BU. The last possible day is July 1st, so its now or never I suppose. I removed my last post because it was mopey, and that's just not how I roll.
I think this is it for the blog, though. I'm not sure if anybody has been reading it anymore, and to be honest, I haven't had the desire to write. A chapter of my life has ended, so I figure I can package this up with it. I had fun, and I hope you enjoyed it. Someday I'll read these posts like I occasionally read my high school xanga, and lament about how long I worked at Subway. If you take one thing from this blog, I hope it is that you should put underwear on your head at night.
Thanks guys!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Vindictive Food Shopping, Workin' at The Office, and Tryin to Get That Oprah
So I haven't been updating too much lately. While the obvious reason for my absence would be my mundane life, the truth is, I can't find the cord to put my pictures on the computer, and without pictures my blog is nothing. I have a YouTube video for you, though, hence the update.
Let's do this in list form, just like the good ol' days (of two months ago? those days weren't so good, actually...uhhh.)
-The other day my mother asked me to do the grocery shopping while she was at work. I happily obliged; as most of you know, I have an inexplicable affinity for grocery stores. As my mom handed me the two grocery lists (because she started one, forgot, started another, and put completely different things on each,) she remarked, "Remember, if a sign says 'Two for One' get two. Do whatever the signs say." I was shocked! Was she insinuating that I am not a good sale shopper?
Well, yeah, she was. I went to the grocery store and bought a couple of odds and ends...the usual microwave dinners we eat weren't on sale, so I bought different ones. I wanted fruit snacks, and they were on a great sale, so I bought three boxes. The whole grain bread I wanted wasn't on sale, but the whole wheat was, so I bought two loaves. As the checkout lady handed me the receipt, I looked proudly upon the $13.95 savings on the $66.00 bill.
As I unloaded the groceries from the trunk, though, I realized that I bought some weird shit. I had shopped vindictively, and now we have 30 baggies of Snoopy fruit snacks to prove it.
Scratch workin' at the office-- I'll update about that in another post.
And as promised (BLAST THIS LOUD!):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbDEds3jxRw&feature=PlayList&p=EB9D5FB2EA082489&index=0
Let's do this in list form, just like the good ol' days (of two months ago? those days weren't so good, actually...uhhh.)
-The other day my mother asked me to do the grocery shopping while she was at work. I happily obliged; as most of you know, I have an inexplicable affinity for grocery stores. As my mom handed me the two grocery lists (because she started one, forgot, started another, and put completely different things on each,) she remarked, "Remember, if a sign says 'Two for One' get two. Do whatever the signs say." I was shocked! Was she insinuating that I am not a good sale shopper?
Well, yeah, she was. I went to the grocery store and bought a couple of odds and ends...the usual microwave dinners we eat weren't on sale, so I bought different ones. I wanted fruit snacks, and they were on a great sale, so I bought three boxes. The whole grain bread I wanted wasn't on sale, but the whole wheat was, so I bought two loaves. As the checkout lady handed me the receipt, I looked proudly upon the $13.95 savings on the $66.00 bill.
As I unloaded the groceries from the trunk, though, I realized that I bought some weird shit. I had shopped vindictively, and now we have 30 baggies of Snoopy fruit snacks to prove it.
Scratch workin' at the office-- I'll update about that in another post.
And as promised (BLAST THIS LOUD!):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbDEds3jxRw&feature=PlayList&p=EB9D5FB2EA082489&index=0
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
horndog.
Today I sat on the train and watched the raindrops hit the window.
The way the rain slid across the glass, the droplets looked like those pictures you'd see in textbooks of spermies.
Now, we are adults here, right? Considering I know all five of my readers, I'm pretty sure I can safely say we are all in the 18+ group. If not? Eh.
So now that we have that cleared up, I want to talk about lusting after strangers. As I sat on the train, watching the rain-sperm-drops glide across the window, I thought of all the times I fallen in love with people on mass transit, in waiting rooms, from across classrooms, in chemistry lab, at the library, at sporting events, etc. I am not going to ask if you all do the same, because I don't want to know if I am the only one who does this. I thought back to the first time I after lusted after a total stranger. I was 15 and on the N24 heading home from Kellenberg. For whatever reason, I was alone on the bus that day and didn't get my normal seat. As we hit the Mineola hub, a bunch of day laborers got on. I still remember so vividly the guy's face. He had to be anywhere from 25 to 30, and something about him looked quite Native American. I was in awe of him. To get biblical, I coveted him. Wanted him. Whatever you want to call it. My 15 year old self was confused. My current self has had about 932 experiences since then that were exactly like that.
Another notable time: coming home for winter break, freshman year. A man with dark skin, blond hair, and an Australian accent got on the Accela and sat directly across from me. I was enamored.
Unfortunately, his face has completely faded from my memory. I just remember his hair and guitar case.
Sigh. I do wonder when I will stop being a 14-year-old boy (albeit, a 14 year old boy who is attracted to boys.)
The way the rain slid across the glass, the droplets looked like those pictures you'd see in textbooks of spermies.
Now, we are adults here, right? Considering I know all five of my readers, I'm pretty sure I can safely say we are all in the 18+ group. If not? Eh.
So now that we have that cleared up, I want to talk about lusting after strangers. As I sat on the train, watching the rain-sperm-drops glide across the window, I thought of all the times I fallen in love with people on mass transit, in waiting rooms, from across classrooms, in chemistry lab, at the library, at sporting events, etc. I am not going to ask if you all do the same, because I don't want to know if I am the only one who does this. I thought back to the first time I after lusted after a total stranger. I was 15 and on the N24 heading home from Kellenberg. For whatever reason, I was alone on the bus that day and didn't get my normal seat. As we hit the Mineola hub, a bunch of day laborers got on. I still remember so vividly the guy's face. He had to be anywhere from 25 to 30, and something about him looked quite Native American. I was in awe of him. To get biblical, I coveted him. Wanted him. Whatever you want to call it. My 15 year old self was confused. My current self has had about 932 experiences since then that were exactly like that.
Another notable time: coming home for winter break, freshman year. A man with dark skin, blond hair, and an Australian accent got on the Accela and sat directly across from me. I was enamored.
Unfortunately, his face has completely faded from my memory. I just remember his hair and guitar case.
Sigh. I do wonder when I will stop being a 14-year-old boy (albeit, a 14 year old boy who is attracted to boys.)
Monday, June 8, 2009
The quick update
I haven't updated because I have been caught up in the whirlwind of corporate life. Ninety hour work weeks, coke binges, and cheating on my wife with the secretary.
Or more like 32 hour work weeks, commuting to the beautiful town of Jericho, lunches at Whole Foods, and working in a rather unintentionally humorous office.
I am not going to bullshit to you and tell you that my life is fabulous-because it isn't-but I can also say that it isn't nearly the mess it had been the last few months. Things have been getting back to the status quo, and it's been really nice.
It's late and as a very important business woman, I'll recap some of the highlights of working very quickly.
-Today, I prepared receipts for one of the older employees' pending audit. She asked me whether I needed the receipts from September 2008 or 2009. I had to restrain myself from saying "2009! It's an audit from the futureeee." After she asked ten more times, though, I kindly let her know that September 2009 hasn't happened, so we don't have those receipts yet.
-After lunch, I went through the bills for the company credit cards to see if they matched the employees' receipts. Rental car, airfare, business lunch, airfare, airfare, 12 donuts. In the middle of all the travel expenses, somebody included a receipt for 12 donuts from Dunkin Donuts and wrote it off as breakfast. And it just kept going from there. An Edible Arrangement for "client discussion," $18 worth of potato chips for a "business meeting," a bill from Hank's Famous BBQ, an unexplained $41 spent at 7-11
-Last Sunday, the night before I returned to the office, I tried on a couple of outfits for work. As I stood there in my plain gray skirt and pink button down shirt, I actually started to laugh. My work clothes didn't include a visor. I didn't have to wear all black. No magnetic name tag. My outfit looked like I was about to run some sort of scam; it said, Trust me, I wear dorky glasses and a button down shirt.
Or more like 32 hour work weeks, commuting to the beautiful town of Jericho, lunches at Whole Foods, and working in a rather unintentionally humorous office.
I am not going to bullshit to you and tell you that my life is fabulous-because it isn't-but I can also say that it isn't nearly the mess it had been the last few months. Things have been getting back to the status quo, and it's been really nice.
It's late and as a very important business woman, I'll recap some of the highlights of working very quickly.
-Today, I prepared receipts for one of the older employees' pending audit. She asked me whether I needed the receipts from September 2008 or 2009. I had to restrain myself from saying "2009! It's an audit from the futureeee." After she asked ten more times, though, I kindly let her know that September 2009 hasn't happened, so we don't have those receipts yet.
-After lunch, I went through the bills for the company credit cards to see if they matched the employees' receipts. Rental car, airfare, business lunch, airfare, airfare, 12 donuts. In the middle of all the travel expenses, somebody included a receipt for 12 donuts from Dunkin Donuts and wrote it off as breakfast. And it just kept going from there. An Edible Arrangement for "client discussion," $18 worth of potato chips for a "business meeting," a bill from Hank's Famous BBQ, an unexplained $41 spent at 7-11
-Last Sunday, the night before I returned to the office, I tried on a couple of outfits for work. As I stood there in my plain gray skirt and pink button down shirt, I actually started to laugh. My work clothes didn't include a visor. I didn't have to wear all black. No magnetic name tag. My outfit looked like I was about to run some sort of scam; it said, Trust me, I wear dorky glasses and a button down shirt.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Two BMWs
Today I drove alone for the first time to Nassau Community College to meet a friend for lunch. It's not the easiest drive, but my mom figured that the roads would be empty at noon on a Thursday.
Wrong.
It was okay, though. I felt I did fine and I only had two close calls--both happened to be with BMWs (therefore, I will now forever be suspicious that when I see a BMW on the road, the driver will do something stupid.) My dad always warned me about two kinds of cars: SUVs, because they "don't get out of the way for anybody. They think they own the fucking road," and fancy cars, "because they are rich and think they don't have to obey the law" (My dad's words, not mine.)
As I mentioned, I only had two little incidents that really got me nervous. One is barely worth mentioning; a BMW SUV was pulling out without looking (my father's favorite type of car: both an SUV AND a luxury car.) Big deal. The second incident, though, truly was, well, ridiculous. I tried to describe it using a picture:
Figure 1: I'm in the Honda, the silver car.
So, this red BMW convertible pulled out of a parking lot right next to a very, very busy intersection (for the Long Island people: Stewart and Quintin Roosevelt.) Everybody was waiting at a red light. Mr. Old Man in a Red BMW Convertible decided not only was he not going to wait, but he was going to cut across three lanes of traffic to get into the turn lane on the far left. The light turned green, though, leaving the BMW horizontal to the oncoming traffic. For the first time in my life, I used the horn.
Now, the kind of funny part? The man was really old and in a brand-new convertible; a little too old for me to assume mid-life crisis, and way too old for me to assume he has a small...you know, (just to clarify, young man in a sports car= trying to prove something, middle aged man in a sports car=mid life crisis, old man in a sports car= end of life crisis? Too much money? Not really sure.) but no matter what his reason for having that little red sports car with the leather interior, he clearly wasn't the brightest. He was driving a convertible with the top down in the rain. I may have a five year old Honda, but at least my car keeps me dry.
NOTE: I don't really care what kind of car you, dear reader, drive. I'm not judging you. Or even if I am, it isn't a big deal. My brother drives a BMW and we crack jokes about it all the time. I am sure you are a wonderful, amazing driver in your Grand Cherokee or Lexus or whatever it is you drive. I wasn't talking about you; I'm talking about everybody else :-)
NOTE 2: Maybe he won the car on The Price is Right!
Wrong.
It was okay, though. I felt I did fine and I only had two close calls--both happened to be with BMWs (therefore, I will now forever be suspicious that when I see a BMW on the road, the driver will do something stupid.) My dad always warned me about two kinds of cars: SUVs, because they "don't get out of the way for anybody. They think they own the fucking road," and fancy cars, "because they are rich and think they don't have to obey the law" (My dad's words, not mine.)
As I mentioned, I only had two little incidents that really got me nervous. One is barely worth mentioning; a BMW SUV was pulling out without looking (my father's favorite type of car: both an SUV AND a luxury car.) Big deal. The second incident, though, truly was, well, ridiculous. I tried to describe it using a picture:
Figure 1: I'm in the Honda, the silver car.
So, this red BMW convertible pulled out of a parking lot right next to a very, very busy intersection (for the Long Island people: Stewart and Quintin Roosevelt.) Everybody was waiting at a red light. Mr. Old Man in a Red BMW Convertible decided not only was he not going to wait, but he was going to cut across three lanes of traffic to get into the turn lane on the far left. The light turned green, though, leaving the BMW horizontal to the oncoming traffic. For the first time in my life, I used the horn.
Now, the kind of funny part? The man was really old and in a brand-new convertible; a little too old for me to assume mid-life crisis, and way too old for me to assume he has a small...you know, (just to clarify, young man in a sports car= trying to prove something, middle aged man in a sports car=mid life crisis, old man in a sports car= end of life crisis? Too much money? Not really sure.) but no matter what his reason for having that little red sports car with the leather interior, he clearly wasn't the brightest. He was driving a convertible with the top down in the rain. I may have a five year old Honda, but at least my car keeps me dry.
NOTE: I don't really care what kind of car you, dear reader, drive. I'm not judging you. Or even if I am, it isn't a big deal. My brother drives a BMW and we crack jokes about it all the time. I am sure you are a wonderful, amazing driver in your Grand Cherokee or Lexus or whatever it is you drive. I wasn't talking about you; I'm talking about everybody else :-)
NOTE 2: Maybe he won the car on The Price is Right!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
MADE
Six days until I start working 9-5, so in the meantime I am trying to make the most of my days off (mostly by watching TV.) Today, I've watched Maury, The Price is Right, What Not to Wear, and Made. (I also unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, did a little laundry, and made myself some breakfast. Believe it or not, I have actually gotten off of my butt.)
I'm watching the show Made, and it has to be one of the least successful transformations they have ever featured. I watch this show and lament that I am too old to be made into anything. I want to be a cheerleader! I want to be Prom Queen (despite my high school's lack of prom)! Honestly, while I was in high school, I probably could have been chosen for the show. I always had friends, but beyond that I was pretty awkward. I didn't go on my first date until I was in college. I think I would have like to have been made into... I dunno. I was going to say cheerleader, but I disliked most of the girls on the cheerleading team. I would say dance team, but I didn't really go for those girls either. Maybe it wouldn't have worked out. Oh well.
Well, I guess I was wrong. What I referred to as "the least successful transformation" two minutes ago yielded a prom queen.
I'm watching the show Made, and it has to be one of the least successful transformations they have ever featured. I watch this show and lament that I am too old to be made into anything. I want to be a cheerleader! I want to be Prom Queen (despite my high school's lack of prom)! Honestly, while I was in high school, I probably could have been chosen for the show. I always had friends, but beyond that I was pretty awkward. I didn't go on my first date until I was in college. I think I would have like to have been made into... I dunno. I was going to say cheerleader, but I disliked most of the girls on the cheerleading team. I would say dance team, but I didn't really go for those girls either. Maybe it wouldn't have worked out. Oh well.
Well, I guess I was wrong. What I referred to as "the least successful transformation" two minutes ago yielded a prom queen.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
"Oh yeah, I got this car on The Price is Right"
At 11:00 AM I turned on CBS for my morning dose of "The Price is Right."
The opening bid is for a trampoline. I remembered how badly I wanted a trampoline when I was little, but as I watch the model jumping on it during the segment, I realize how the trampoline could possibly be the dumbest, most dangerous toy you could possibly buy for a child.
A young woman gets the closest bid for the trampoline, and before Drew Carey can announce it, she screams, "I WON!"
I realize how much I waste my life watching this damn show, and I go into my text messages to find the number to call about getting my old job back.
The woman is now bidding on something else. I can't see what. A dining room set, perhaps?
My text Inbox: 15 texts
Shit. I deleted the number.
I panic for a moment when I realize that I purged my text inbox without first copying the number of "Donna in Accounting" onto a piece of paper.
A man is bidding on a car. I find the company's phone number on-line, but instead of calling immediately, I decide to see whether or not the man will win that giant red Ford pick-up truck.
It is an intense one. He keeps coming within one number, so they keep letting him play. I remind myself not to yell at the TV if he won. I had experienced a great deal of shame during yesterday's Showcase Showdown; I told the woman on the TV what to bid, and when she did, I felt for a moment as though we really connected.
The man wins the truck. I yell at the TV. Shame overcomes me.
I call, and the woman asks me when I am coming in. I say June 1. She says that's perfect.
My shame subsides and I feel good, until the contestants on "The Price is Right" start spinning the wheel and I find myself yelling at one of the guys to spin again.
Now a particularly confused group seems to be bidding, including a woman wearing a T-shirt that says "I'm 90, Fiesty, and Ready to Spin!" Me too, old woman, me too.
EDIT: Despite what my spell check says, that is what the shirt of the old woman actually said.
The opening bid is for a trampoline. I remembered how badly I wanted a trampoline when I was little, but as I watch the model jumping on it during the segment, I realize how the trampoline could possibly be the dumbest, most dangerous toy you could possibly buy for a child.
A young woman gets the closest bid for the trampoline, and before Drew Carey can announce it, she screams, "I WON!"
I realize how much I waste my life watching this damn show, and I go into my text messages to find the number to call about getting my old job back.
The woman is now bidding on something else. I can't see what. A dining room set, perhaps?
My text Inbox: 15 texts
Shit. I deleted the number.
I panic for a moment when I realize that I purged my text inbox without first copying the number of "Donna in Accounting" onto a piece of paper.
A man is bidding on a car. I find the company's phone number on-line, but instead of calling immediately, I decide to see whether or not the man will win that giant red Ford pick-up truck.
It is an intense one. He keeps coming within one number, so they keep letting him play. I remind myself not to yell at the TV if he won. I had experienced a great deal of shame during yesterday's Showcase Showdown; I told the woman on the TV what to bid, and when she did, I felt for a moment as though we really connected.
The man wins the truck. I yell at the TV. Shame overcomes me.
I call, and the woman asks me when I am coming in. I say June 1. She says that's perfect.
My shame subsides and I feel good, until the contestants on "The Price is Right" start spinning the wheel and I find myself yelling at one of the guys to spin again.
Now a particularly confused group seems to be bidding, including a woman wearing a T-shirt that says "I'm 90, Fiesty, and Ready to Spin!" Me too, old woman, me too.
EDIT: Despite what my spell check says, that is what the shirt of the old woman actually said.
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