My next thirty years...

Well, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it. I figured today was as good a day as any to write on this thing, since I’m standing on the precipice of a milestone. Maybe “standing on the precipice of a milestone” is glamming it up a little too much. I’m turning 30 tomorrow. Yikes.

Naturally, I’ve spent the last few weeks analyzing my first twenty nine years. It’s the precious few who find themselves exactly where they thought they’d be at 30. I always thought I’d have a house, a wife, a dog…but things don’t always work out exactly how you think they will. Besides, the ideas about where I thought I’d be when I turned 30 were galvanized in me at a young age. And they were based on outdated ideas taken from TV shows and movies anyway. So I’m not too terribly worried about it. That’s not to say my nesting instincts aren’t kicking in. Because I think they are. But I’m not gonna go home and wrap myself around a bottle of whiskey because I live in a one-bedroom apartment and eat microwave slop for dinner. I’m a single guy. It’s what I do.

So like I was saying, I’ve been looking back at my life, and I was thinking about how today marks the end of an important chapter (to employ the old, overused cliché). It made me realize that I really, really enjoyed my twenties. It’s easy for me to say that this was the most important decade of my life, the most formative, but is that true? Let’s take a look:

Chapter 1 (0-9 years old): Obviously this was a big one in terms of basics. I learned to eat solid foods. I learned to walk (which is important!). I learned to talk (also important!). I stopped shitting on myself (for the most part). I also developed a love of music. And drawing. And reading. I realized that I sucked at sports, but I still liked watching them. Did I really understand anything about the world? Or other people? Probably not.

Chapter 2 (10-19 years old): This was a big one in terms of personal development. Like most young adults, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out who I was. I know people love to talk about how they “weren’t cool in high school.” I really wasn’t. If my high school were a TV show, I wasn’t even an ancillary character, I was an extra. Hell, I may have been a secondary character in my own life, that’s how much a “face in the crowd” I was. Still, I can’t write off this chapter completely. These experiences shaped me. And I learned how to drive. And I developed an interest in girls, though I’m not sure what good that’s done me. I should mention that I kissed my first girl during this decade (though it was embarrassingly late in the chapter when this finally happened).

Chapter 3 (20-29 years old): This was my favorite decade. For one thing, I finally started to come out of my shell right around the time I turned 20. Also, I had my first girlfriend. Then my second. I was starting to learn things about the opposite sex. I was introduced to the cold, cruel reality that is “the real world.” I left my comfort zone and discovered my independence (and solitude) when I moved to Minnesota. I moved to New York and made friends with some of the most interesting and decent people on this planet. I rediscovered my hometown. All in all, this was a very, very good ten years for me.

Anyway. What was my point? Oh right, which decade was the most important. The first and the last, I guess.

Well, if the pattern holds, then my thirties might be another off-decade on par with my teens. Maybe that’s what’s worrying me about my thirties – that all of my growing and adventuring is in the past. All of the preparation is over. The wheels are up, the takeoff was a success and now I’m just gonna settle in, take off my seatbelt, pick up a book and enjoy the long, boring, snack-free flight toward the grave.

But that’s a pessimistic attitude, isn’t it. This is the decade that I start a family! And maybe go back to school! And start a company! And write a book! Yep, the world is my oyster. Maybe I really am standing at the precipice of something.

Arkansas!

This is on facebook as well, but Richard wants to watch it at work. So here it is!

(I was gonna post today, I swear. Maybe tomorrow. We have lots to catch up on! Really!)

Swimming with Sharks

As a single guy, I’m usually on the prowl. It’s just the nature of the single guy, I think. We’re like sharks in that way. Sure, it looks like we’re just leisurely swimming along, but don't be fooled. We’re always watching. Sizing things up. This doesn’t necessarily mean it’s always sexual. Sometimes it’s as simple as “could I date her?” (though, let’s be honest, sometimes it’s purely physical) Anyway, this past weekend I found myself attending two events in which prowling was simply not an option. The shark wasn’t hungry.

Situation #1:

Imagine this, fellow single man. You’re in a social atmosphere filled with young, attractive people. You’re surrounded by a lot of familiar faces, but on the same token, a lot of faces you’ve never seen. However, you feel comfortable with these new people and there’s no hesitation as you approach them to talk. There’s a lot of booze. Everyone is happy, convivial, at ease. But at no point do your thoughts turn to romance and, in actuality, the thought of it makes you physically ill. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the family reunion.

Yup. I spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday at the Lost Pines Hyatt chatting with my dad’s half of the family. There were cousins there I’d only met one or two times before. There were cousins there I’d never met (side note: for the sake of simplicity, I’m going to refer to everyone outside of my immediate family as a cousin).

There’s a long, strange history there that started with my grandparents’ generation. My great-grandfather was a West Texas oilman. Translation: he was rich. So when he died, I guess there was a free-for-all money-grab and it ended up dividing the siblings, including my grandmother. This weirdness continued on with my dad’s generation, and none of the cousins really spoke. So now there’s a lot of healing, a lot of moving on and my generation is working to get to know each other (though it’s taken work, considering we never saw each other in our formative years). So the weekend was good, but there was certainly a healthy dose of awkwardness as well.

(side note: I was afraid to find anyone at the resort attractive, lest I discover I was leering at my second cousin, twice removed. This is despite the fact that our family made up maybe 1% of the guests staying there. Hot lady in the fitness center? Look away, Robert! Look away! Ooh, check out that woman by the pool! I mean…shit! Look away!!)


Situation #2:

Saturday afternoon I left the resort and drove back to Houston to attend another event. Again, it was social. There were a lot of young, attractive people (and none of them relatives!). There were familiar faces and new faces. There was booze. But again, there was no point for the shark to work up an appetite, because it simply wasn’t gonna happen. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my friend’s wedding.


Now I know what you’re thinking! “What are you nuts?! Think of all the drunk, lonely bridesmaids!” Let me just debunk this myth right now. There is no such thing as a “drunk, lonely bridesmaid.” She’s a unicorn. Actually, she is a chupacabra. There are certain people that swear she exists and you’ll occasionally hear friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend stories about how their cousin in Mexico slept with the hottest bridesmaid ever/saw the chubacabra devouring a live goat, but you know that’s just folklore.


So I went into the wedding with low expectations, and despite meeting some fantastic people, cemented my opinion about the fabled goat-eating bridesmaid. Guess I’ll just keep swimming.

Put your car on cruise and lay back...

I’m a big fan of “summer songs.” Always have been. Last summer was excellent for summer songs. This summer started out really promising, thanks to Lady Gaga (“Poker Face”) and Kelly Clarkson (“My Life Would Suck Without You”). And then, for some reason, it just went in the tank. Between the middle of June and now, every attempt at a summer jam has fallen flat. Everytime I turned on VH1 or 95.7 (Houston’s Hottest Jamz!) I was smacked in the face with Shinedown. Or Pink. Or (shudder) Daughtry. What the hell went wrong?! Then, somehow, someway, the industry started to rally. The last couple of weeks have been great for summer songs. Hell, even Black Eyed Peas made a contribution and they’re terrible!

Ahem...I know I’ve been terrible about keeping up with this blog lately. I’m gonna come out of hibernation though. Things are happening. Stuff is going on. The wheels seem to be turning in both my personal life and my professional life. Updates will start. But until then, enjoy the waning days of summer. Umm…that comment is directed more towards my friends in other parts of the country. Summer will still be going on in mid-October here. But! We are in September now, so…time to turn the page. Until then...summer jamz:

Summer Songs

And I'd be remiss if I didn't include the song that kicked off my obsession with summer songs all those years ago.

Summertime - DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince

Knuggets – F. Scott Fitzgerald quote edition

I’ve gotten out of my blog routine lately. I’m not exactly sure why. I stopped writing on this blog (obviously) and I even forget to visit my friends’ blogs, which is no good. So I’m back. My summer break is over!

After buying the book two years ago, I finally got around to reading “The Great Gatsby” and finished it last night. Somehow I managed to miss reading it in high school, and lately, I’ve been trying to read all the books I should’ve read long, long ago. And I really liked it! I’m not sure the book would’ve meant much to me at age 15, but it means something to me now. Anyway, let’s plow through some knuggets with the help of some quotes from Mr. Fitzgerald, shall we?

Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but the ability to start over.

Well, we’re about seven weeks away from the start of college football season. I mention this because we’re smack dab in the middle of the worst sports month in America. Your only options right now are baseball or golf. Or the WNBA. Yep. That’s it.

Anyway, I’m excited about the upcoming season. Florida and Texas look like the early favorites, but I’m sure we’ll see a few surprises before it’s all said and done.

Anyway, sometime over the last year or so, I’ve converted from a “sentimental purist” to a “time-for-a-change revolutionary” when it comes to the NCAA post season. I used to defend the current bowl game system vehemently, and always had my talking points in order. But the real reason I defended bowl games so fiercely was not because I really believed they were better, but because I was annoyed that the people calling for a playoff always seemed to be NFL fans. So I was being more defensive about college football as a sport than anything else. “Just because it’s different from the NFL doesn’t mean it needs fixing.”

Anyway, I’ve changed my tune. The truth is, once the bowl matchups are announced, I stop paying attention. I rarely watch more than a few of the bowl games. Why? Because they don’t matter. Aside from the National Championship game, the bowl games have no impact on anything except your end-of-year ranking, but unless you’re #1, what does it matter? To be honest, I can’t tell you where Tech ended up at the end of last year, and it was the best year we’ve ever had.

For a sport in which every game really matters, why are the post season games so meaningless?

Thirty – the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know, a thinning briefcase of enthusiasm, thinning hair.

We’re also less than five months away from (gulp) my thirtieth birthday. I don’t know why, but this has been hanging over my head lately. Your twenties are the best years of your life, right? Can I honestly say I’m where I thought I would be at this age? That’s a tough one for me to answer, because I’ve never really been known for my “big picture,” five-year-plan outlook. But the answer is “probably not.” If you had asked “twenty year old Robert” where he thought “thirty year old Robert” would be, “Twenty” would’ve probably said, “Oh, I don’t know. I’m assuming I’ll have a house and a wife and a kid. Now excuse me, I have to get back to this beer bong.” Anyway, I’m putting a little extra pressure on myself right now to get my things in order. Gotta start the new chapter strong, right?

And I’ll just go ahead and answer the obvious question now – where does “Thirty year old Robert” think “Forty year old Robert” will be? Uhh…god, what a depressing question. “Forty year old Robert” will definitely be married. A couple of kids. A house. A dog. A little less hair? Alright, I’m moving on before I make myself sad.

There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.

One of the interesting side effects to my impending decade-page-turn is that I’m starting to feel the itch to settle down. Well…maybe not the itch. Right now it’s just a tickle. But it’s there. My dating philosophy has changed in the last year or so. In the past, I would find myself dating someone I wasn’t particularly interested in, but I would keep dating them because…well, because why the hell not? These days there’s a little more urgency in my approach. Not only am I actively on the prowl, I’m also not afraid to cut the cord if I don’t feel like she’s right.

I was dating someone for a couple of weeks recently. She was fantastic in every way – she was sweet, she was sharp, she had great taste in movies, music, books, etc. But something was missing for me. So I cut the cord. It’s a fine line to straddle. Do you listen to your instincts and cut bait before things get too involved and there are too many feelings involved? Or do you ride it out and see what happens? People like to say “just give it a chance,” but when you know, you know, right?

Advertising is a racket, like the movies and the brokerage business. You cannot be honest without admitting that its constructive contribution to humanity is exactly minus zero.

My annual review is coming up in the next month or so (‘bout damn time, I’ve been here a year and a half). This makes me happy, since it means that maybe (just maybe) I’ll get a raise or a promotion. I’m working on a proposal right now that I plan to present during my review that would promote me and move me to Austin. I’d say it’s got a 24% of actually being approved, but I’m going to try nonetheless.

I’ve been telling people lately that I want to get out of advertising. Marketing is too subjective. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get a job doing construction. And I am due for another cross-country, life-changing move! Maybe I’ll head out to LA and work at the Scientology Celebrity Centre!

It's good to be back! I'm a little rusty (meh) but the blog is back in business. Please send your mailblog questions to memoirsmailbag@gmail.com. Assuming that email account is even still active.

There's always gonna be another mountain...

I watch VH1 in the morning for a couple of reasons. For one thing, ESPN is starting to piss me off. I’m at a point now where I can’t watch SportsCenter. It’s nothing but Red Sox highlights, Kobe/LeBron worship and endless, exhaustive, meaningless windbaggery.

Anyway. The second reason I watch VH1 while I’m getting ready -- it’s the only time you can see music videos. Seriously. The only time. Unless you’re willing to set an alarm and watch MTV between the hours of 3:30 and 4:00 a.m. And I’ve always been a fan of music videos. When I was a kid, I would record videos onto our fancy, new-fangled VCR and then watch the tapes over and over again. My personal favorites from these tapes – Livin’ on a Prayer, Borderline, Thriller and (of course) Wild Side. But I’m getting away from my point. VH1. Most of the videos fall somewhere between “terrible” and “easily ignored.” For every “Poker Face” (which is awesome) there’s a “We Made You” (which is godawful).

A video that’s recently entered the VH1 morning setlist is “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus. I’ve never had a problem with little Miley. “See You Again” was actually one of my favorite summer songs last year. But. Well. There wasn’t a video for it (not one I’ve ever seen anyway). So I didn’t actually have to look at her.

Here’s the thing – she cut her acting teeth on the Disney Channel. And if you’ve ever watched five seconds of the Disney Channel – be it “The Suite Life of Zack and Cody,” “Hannah Montana,” “The Jonas Bros,” whatever – you know that the kids all painfully overact.

So in Miley’s new video, her complete lack of anything even approaching subtlety ruins the entire thing. It’s impossible to take this song seriously.

It’s as though the director said, “Move like the big girls do in their videos” and she did the most over-the-top, Disney-fied version she could muster. There’s a lot of fist pumping, hair flinging, looking skyward…it’s painful. Painful.

Monthly blog snacks...

You don’t have to say anything. I know. I KNOW. I haven’t written in forever. I know this. Believe it or not, there is a reason. Work. I know. Lame. But it’s true. My boss had a baby a couple weeks ago, which happened to correspond with two enormous new business presentations. I won’t bore you with details, but I will say that I haven’t made any progress on the Australia video and (obviously) haven’t had a chance to update this thing. But! I’m updating it today, and what better way to get back into the swing of things than a heaping helping of Knuggets!

For years and years I had a “Saturday t-shirt.” I’d wake up on Saturday morning and grab this shirt out of my closet without even thinking. It’s a wonderful shirt (in fact, if you know me at all, you probably don’t need to me to describe it since you know exactly what I’m talking about). It’s an old shirt, so the seams on the sleeves are coming apart. And there’s a hole under one of the arms. But my god it’s the softest, most comfortable t-shirt imaginable.


Recently I bought a new t-shirt (again, if you know me at all, you know that any new piece of clothing is newsworthy), and without any planning or thinking, it has sort of become my new “Saturday shirt.”


Now I’m not saying “You Gotta Have Art” is being retired. Because that’s not happening until they’re burying me in it or my future wife is “accidentally” giving it to Goodwill because she’s sick of seeing it. In fact, “Bronson Howard” is already starting to get a little wear around the neck. “You Gotta Have Art” is over twenty years old and still doesn’t have that problem.

Anyway, my point is that I love my “Saturday shirt.” That is all.

I was watching VH1 this weekend (don’t ask) and came across a countdown called “The 100 Greatest Songs of the 90’s.” I picked up at about #9 and followed the countdown to #1. The top 2 was a no-brainer and the top 10 was defensible (though the order is debatable).

1. Nirvana - "Smells Like Teen Spirit" (1991)
2. U2 - "One" (1991)
3. Backstreet Boys - "I Want It That Way" (1999)
4. Whitney Houston - "I Will Always Love You" (1992)
5. Madonna - "Vogue" (1990)
6. Sir Mix-A-Lot - "Baby Got Back" (1992)
7. Britney Spears - "...Baby One More Time" (1999)
8. TLC - "Waterfalls" (1994)
9. R.E.M. - "Losing My Religion" (1991)
10. Sinéad O'Connor - "Nothing Compares 2 U" (1990)

The first thing that stuck out to me was the years these songs were released. Nine of the top ten songs happened either before 1992 or during 1999? Huh? Was 1993-1998 that bad?!

Anyway, naturally I started wondering what the “100 Greatest Songs of the 2000’s” would look like. Is there a song out there that’s as locked in at #1 as “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was? If there is, it doesn’t come to mind immediately. Well, first we should look at the top 10 singles from each year to get an idea of what we’re up against here.

2000
01. Breathe » Faith Hill
02. Smooth » Santana Featuring Rob Thomas
03. Maria Maria » Santana Featuring The Product G&B
04. I Wanna Know » Joe
05. Everything You Want » Vertical Horizon
06. Say My Name » Destiny's Child
07. I Knew I Loved You » Savage Garden
08. Amazed » Lonestar
09. Bent » matchbox twenty
10. He Wasn't Man Enough » Toni Braxton

2001
01. Hanging By A Moment » Lifehouse
02. Fallin' » Alicia Keys
03. All For You » Janet
04. Drops Of Jupiter (Tell Me) » Train
05. I'm Real » Jennifer Lopez Featuring Ja Rule
06. If You're Gone » matchbox twenty
07. Let Me Blow Ya Mind » Eve Featuring Gwen Stefani
08. Thank You » Dido
09. Again » Lenny Kravitz
10. Independent Women Part I » Destiny's Child

2002
01. How You Remind Me » Nickelback
02. Foolish » Ashanti
03. Hot in Herre » Nelly
04. Dilemma » Nelly Featuring Kelly Rowland
05. Wherever you Will Go » The Calling
06. A Thousand Miles » Vanessa Carlton
07. In the End » Linkin Park
08. What's Luv? » Fat Joe Featuring Ashanti
09. U Got it Bad » Usher
10. Blurry » Puddle Of Mudd

2003
01. In Da Club » 50 Cent
02. Ignition » R. Kelly
03. Get Busy » Sean Paul
04. Crazy in Love » Beyonce Featuring Jay-Z
05. When I'm Gone » 3 Doors Down
06. Unwell » matchbox twenty
07. Right Thurr » Chingy
08. Miss You » Aaliyah
09. Picture » Kid Rock Featuring Sheryl Crow
10. Bring me to Life » Evanescence Featuring Paul McCoy

2004
01. Yeah! » Usher Featuring Lil Jon & Ludacris
02. Burn » Usher
03. If I ain't got You » Alicia Keys
04. This Love » Maroon5
05. The Way you Move » OutKast Featuring Sleepy Brown
06. The Reason » Hoobastank
07. I don't Wanna Know » Mario Winans Featuring Enya & P. Diddy
08. Hey Ya! » OutKast
09. Goodies » Ciara Featuring Petey Pablo
10. Lean Back » Terror Squad

2005
01. We Belong Together » Mariah Carey
02. Hollaback Girl » Gwen Stefani
03. Let Me Love You » Mario
04. Since U Been Gone » Kelly Clarkson
05. 1, 2 Step » Ciara Featuring Missy Elliott
06. Gold Digger » Kanye West Featuring Jamie Foxx
07. Boulevard of Broken Dreams » Green Day
08. Candy Shop » 50 Cent Featuring Olivia
09. Don't Cha » The Pussycat Dolls Featuring Busta Rhymes
10. Behind These Hazel Eyes » Kelly Clarkson

2006
01. Bad Day » Daniel Powter
02. Temperature » Sean Paul
03. Promiscuous » Nelly Furtado Featuring Timbaland
04. You're Beautiful » James Blunt
05. Hips Don't Lie » Shakira Featuring Wyclef Jean
06. Unwritten » Natasha Bedingfield
07. Crazy » Gnarls Barkley
08. Ridin' » Chamillionaire Featuring Krayzie Bone
09. Sexyback » Justin Timberlake
10. Check on It » Beyonce Featuring Slim Thug

2007
01. Irreplaceable » Beyonce
02. Umbrella » Rihanna Featuring Jay-Z
03. The Sweet Escape » Gwen Stefani Featuring Akon
04. Big Girls Don't Cry » Fergie
05. Buy U A Drank (Shawty Snappin') » T-Pain Featuring Yung Joc
06. Before He Cheats » Carrie Underwood
07. Hey There Delilah » Plain White T's
08. I Wanna Love You » Akon Featuring Snoop Dogg
09. Say It Right » Nelly Furtado
10. Glamorous » Fergie Featuring Ludacris

2008
01. Low » Flo Rida Featuring T-Pain
02. Bleeding Love » Leona Lewis
03. No One » Alicia Keys
04. Lollipop » Lil Wayne Featuring Static Major
05. Apologize » Timbaland Featuring OneRepublic
06. No Air » Jordin Sparks Duet With Chris Brown
07. Love Song » Sara Bareilles
08. Love In This Club » Usher Featuring Young Jeezy
09. With You » Chris Brown
10. Forever » Chris Brown

First off, man, the 2000’s sucked. Sucked! Regardless, I began working out an initial top ten in my head over the weekend. And two of my top five songs were “Clocks” by Coldplay – which inexplicably checked in at number 81 in 2003 – and “Hey Ya!” by Outkast, which came in at a respectable #8 in 2004. But! This just shows that you can’t go purely off of chart position. I mean, can you imagine if someone tried to tell you that the top 10 songs of the 2000’s was this:

1. Breathe » Faith Hill
2. Hanging By A Moment » Lifehouse
3. How You Remind Me » Nickelback
4. In Da Club » 50 Cent
5. Yeah! » Usher Featuring Lil Jon & Ludacris
6. We Belong Together » Mariah Carey
7. Bad Day » Daniel Powter
8. Irreplaceable » Beyonce
9. Low » Flo Rida Featuring T-Pain
10. Just Dance/My Life Would Suck Without You/You Found Me (2009)

Nuh uh. Anyway, I spent more time than I probably should have looking through the charts this afternoon. And all of my hard work has led to this -- if I were a producer at VH1, my “Top 25 Greatest Songs of the 2000’s” (you weren’t expecting all 100, were you?) would look like this…

(and please feel free leave your thoughts in the comments section)

25. Thong Song – Sisqo (2000, #14)
24. Are You Gonna Be My Girl – Jet (2004, #76)
23. Lollipop – Lil Wayne (2008, #4)
22. What a Girl Wants – Christina Aguilera (2000, #19)
21. Work It – Missy Misdemeanor Elliot (2002, #54, 2003, #36)
20. Whenever, Wherever – Shakira (2002, #28)
19. How You Remind Me – Nickelback (2002, #1)…ugh.
18. Your Body is a Wonderland – John Mayer (2003, #48)
17. Cry Me a River – Justin Timberlake (2003, #30)
16. Don’t Know Why – Norah Jones (2003, #97?!)
15. Yeah! – Usher, Lil Jon
14. Umbrella – Rihanna (2007, #2)
13. Milkshake – Kelis (2004, #41)
12. I Kissed a Girl – Katy Perry (2008, #14)
11. Mr. Brightside – The Killers (2005, #16)
10. Fallin’ – Alicia Keys (2001, #2)
9. Hollaback Girl – Gwen Stefani (2005, #2)
8. Stronger – Kanye West (2007, #27)
7. Since U Been Gone – Kelly Clarkson (2005, #4)
6. Crazy – Gnarls Barkley (2006, #7)
5. In Da Club – 50 Cent (2003, #1)
4. Bye Bye Bye – N*Sync (2000, #21)
3. Oops! I Did it Again – Britney Spears (2000, #55)
2. Clocks (2003, #81)
1. Hey Ya! (2004, #8)

Thoughts? Is "Hey Ya!" a qualified #1? Should it swap spots with "Crazy?" Discuss.

I have this harebrained theory that an individual’s personality is based, at least partially, on genetics. And that there are a finite number of “personality genes” in the world. I don’t have an exact number (stay tuned for my article in the New England Journal of Medicine), but I’m guessing it’s somewhere between 5,000 and 10,000. How else can you explain meeting two people who are identical in every way…only they’ve never met? This happened to me a few weeks ago. I was hanging out with someone who I’d recently become friends with, and noticed his mannerisms, his sense of humor, his laugh, his voice…were all very familiar. Then I realized it’s because he was exactly like another, dear friend of mine. It was creepy, the similarities. This was a good thing because I felt an instant comfort level with this person based on my friendship with the other person. And it’s possible our personality genes are just compatible. It’s science! My question is this – what would happen if they met? Would they hate each other? Love each other? I get the feeling that they would both think the other one was mocking them. “Why is he acting like that? Is he being a dick?” Has this ever happened to you? Is there any other explanation?

Sorry, only three knuggets today. I spent way too much time researching the top 100 songs of each year from 2000-2008. I’ll be back soon! I swear!

Knuggets: I Don't Like Mondays edition

Happy Monday everybody! It was an eventful weekend of out-of-town guests, a LOT of rain, a LOT of booze and generally a good ol’ time. I’m too lazy and tired to do a full recap, so instead I’m gonna serve up a tray of piping hot (sorry Cory) cafeteria-quality knuggets.

After being rained out on Saturday, we went to the International Festival on Sunday. The first order of business was to find the Louisiana stage to watch some zydeco. We watched a band of twenty-somethings called Feufollet who played very traditional, down-home Louisiana music. It was awesome. Something about the combination of an accordion and fiddle. It makes me happy. Anyway, I bought a CD, which will absolutely serve as the soundtrack this next weekend at the crawfish boil.

As we were walking through the festival, we stumbled on a truck selling something called a Hot Beef Sundae. Obviously I had to get one.


It was a layer of mashed potatoes at the bottom of the bowl, then roast beef, then gravy, then more mashed potatoes, then more gravy, then cheese, then a cherry tomato. And, despite the name, it was actually very good. Although it was a little too hearty and a little too warm for a day spent walking around in the sun. The Hot Beef Sundae truck needs to make its rounds during the winter.

This delightful piece of artwork lives at Rudyard’s, a cruddy (yet awesome) bar in Houston.


To be honest, I was sad all of last year because Boobies 2007 was over, and there wasn’t any Boobies 2008. Well, last week at Dark Horse (another cruddy, yet awesome bar) I saw this…


I watched Southland, the new Thursday night cop show on NBC, last week. It was okay. Not terrible. The cast is pretty good, but…well…Benjamin McKenzie? Really? He’s entered Mark Paul Gosselaar territory for me. He’s Ryan Atwood and he’ll always be Ryan Atwood and all I can think when I watch Southland is “Ryan Atwood is a cop?” If I had to guess, I would say this show is gonna shift pretty quickly away from his character and toward the more interesting ones. Anyway. The show will probably be canceled in two weeks, making this post completely irrelevant and outdated.

The point I was trying to get to, and something I thought about while watching the show – has any cast made themselves obsolete faster than the cast of the OC? There was some real potential there and then poof! They’re all gone! I thought Adam Brody had the opportunity to become one of those guys who could just play himself in every role and be successful. It’s not easy to get to that point, but a lot of actors have done it – Will Ferrell, Seth Rogen, Steve Carell, Ricky Gervais…Anyway, Brody had the personality for it, but it obviously didn’t happen. Though imdb is telling me he’s playing the Flash in the upcoming Justice League movie. Although, it’s a strange (Common as the Green Lantern?) and unknown (DJ Cotrona as Superman?) cast, so…nevermind.

Anyway. Mischa Barton, Rachel Bilson, Kelly Rowan…where the hell are they?!

This is shaping up to be a really good “summer song” summer. We’re not even through April yet and we’ve already had Just Dance, Poker Face, My Life Would Suck Without You, the Fear and Live Your Life.

Good job Lady Gaga. You know, there’s this lyric in Poker Face where she says “I’m just bluffin’ with my muffin,” and I always thought it was just this cute, weird little rhyme. And I assumed her “muffin” was her head/brain/mind. Well apparently VH1 thinks it’s code for “vagina” because they mute it out in the video. Isn’t that strange? The radio lets her say muffin. I mean, really. Who the hell calls it a muffin?!

Update: in the video, she points at her vagina while saying this line, so...yeah, I can kinda see why they think "muffin" means "vagina."

And in other pop music news (this is a strange edition of knuggets, isn’t it), Britney Spears is apparently letting ten year olds write her songs now. Her new single is called “If You Seek Amy” and the chorus goes “love me, hate me, say what you want about me. But all the boys and all the girls are begging to if you seek Amy."

Obviously that makes no sense. And obviously she’s saying “F.U.C.K. me.” On the radio, they’ve done an awkward editing job and it sounds like she’s saying “if you see Amy.” On VH1, they play the song as it is, but are very, very careful when they introduce it. Poor Jim Shearer had to say, “here’s Britney’s latest – If You…(pause)…seek (pause) Amy.” God, she’s a lunatic.

Oh, speaking of lunatics ...the crazy guy at my gym. I’m still wondering how the hell he got a membership. Did he walk in one day wearing a suit and a bowler and say, "good day, sir. I would like to inquire about a membership in this athletic club." And then once he had his card, rip off the suit and start eating one of the promotional balloons? The guy will have full blown conversations with himself in the mirror. And he never actually does any exercising. He’ll sit on one of the stationary bikes and talk to the television. Last week, he brought in a sandwich and some chips, and had his damn lunch while sitting on the bike! He’s insane! I mean, he seems harmless enough, but…well, it’s only a matter of time before he shoots the place up, right?

Like I mentioned last week (and at the top of this post), this upcoming Saturday is the big crawfish blowout at West Alabama Ice House. I’m excited. Mike and Kalinda are coming. Eric is coming. Josh is coming. And of course there’s a chance for scattered thunderstorms. Nothing but sunshine from now until Saturday, but a chance of rain on Saturday. This is not fair. Still. I can’t wait.

Here comes Peter Cottontail...

Hooray three-day weekend! Actually, hooray April! This is shaping up to be a very fun month.

It’s ironic that this – the only three-day weekend I'm gonna have til Memorial Day – is the only quiet weekend I’ll have for awhile. I guess that’s a good thing. It’ll give me time to charge my batteries for the madness that lies just on the other side of Easter. This, of course, is assuming I don't head over to Rice tomorrow for the KTRU outdoor show (with Ted Leo!).

So why is April gonna be so fun? Well, let’s start with last weekend. Last weekend was the Houston Rollergirls crawfish boil at West Alabama Ice House (the pictures in that slideshow really don't do it justice). I love a good crawfish boil. Umm…let me revise that. I love a scenario in which I’m encouraged to drink all day in the sunshine at an icehouse (side note: for those of you not from Houston, an icehouse is just a bar with three walls. Emphasis on the outdoors. Wood walls, wood roof, wood floors.) Anyway, the one this past weekend was good. The weather was perfect, a lot of my friends showed up…a surefire recipe for fun. Also a recipe for a night that should’ve ended about three hours before it did. Needless to say, I overindulged and felt like crap on Sunday (which ended up being a blessing in disguise because my weird hangover cravings allowed me to find an amazing sno-cone stand in the Hispanic part of town). So that was last weekend.

But I'm not here to talk about the past (adjusts glasses, points finger).

Next weekend, the fun begins. My friend Steve is visiting from Dallas. We’ve gotten into a kinda/sorta pattern of having an annual hangout weekend (that conveniently corresponds with his company sending him to whatever city I’m living in at that particular time for some kind of corporate training. It works out nicely). The first time we had a weekend, I lived in Austin. His visit happened to fall on the same weekend as both the gay pride parade and some kind of biker rally. We saw motorcycles. We saw gays. We listened to some rockin’ zydeco…

Anyway, this time around, Steve is coming to Houston. And his visit falls on the same weekend as the Houston International Festival (which they’ve started calling “ifest.”). I’ve been going to the International Festival since I was a kid. My dad used to take me (and Richard) every year. We’d walk around, watch some bands, check out the booths, walk by (but not stop at) the countless variety of food and drink stands, sit in the grass…basically our dad would kill an entire afternoon of having to entertain two kids without actually spending any money. By no small coincidence, we stopped going to the International Festival when they started charging admission. Anyway, flash forward to today. April 2009. I'm a grown-up (technically). I have no problem paying admission. I enjoy patronizing food and drink booths. So I’m excited. AND they have a zydeco stage. So Steve and I can keep that little tradition alive as well.

And if that’s not exciting enough, my friend Traci is also coming to visit! She and I met when I lived in New York. We worked at the same god-awful, soul-sucking PR agency. But! We each got a friend out of it. She just moved back to Texas (Dallas, actually. Yuck) and is again exploring her home state. So that weekend should be a lot of fun. Oh, and so I fulfill my crawfish quota, my friend Emily is having a crawfish boil at her house that weekend too.

The following weekend, there’s another crawfish boil at West Alabama Ice House. This is the real one. Or, at least it’s being thrown by the same people who threw this one. I’m excited. Really excited. I have guests coming in from Austin and Dallas. It’s gonna be huge. Unless, of course, it rains or even threatens to rain. That could potentially ruin everything. But! We're not thinking that way. Maybe Houston will get all the rain out of its system this weekend. Yes. That’s it.

So there should be plenty to report in the next few weeks. (sorry if this blog post feels rushed. I'm trying like hell to get out of here)

A couple small house-cleaning items...

1. The Sydney video is coming soon, I promise. This week was really busy and...well...there are a LOT of pictures to comb through. Please be patient.

2. I'm officially back on the market. After a long winter of back-and-forth, "should I/shouldn't I" nonsense with Sonia, I went underground. Well, I'm done with that. I'm getting back into summer shape and putting myself out there. Just saying that means nothing, of course. But don't be surprised if there are some updates in the next month or two. Hopefully.

3. And finally, apropos of absolutely nothing, I’ve been having the weirdest damn dreams these last three nights. And they’ve all been really vivid. Last night I was a lackey in some terrorist plot and I ended up getting arrested thanks to some very sly negotiating done by my brother (thanks, brother). Headlines were all over the front page of the New York Post (why?). The night before that, I was engaged in a very heated water balloon fight with about 600 little kids. The night before that I was lost in New York, but somehow got caught up in the filming of Star Trek (huh?) before being wrangled into a Rugby Union (not Rugby League, mind you) match. Usually I don’t remember my dreams, but like I said, these have been really vivid. Maybe it’s the new toothpaste I’m using? What I’m having for dinner? I’m confused.

Jetlag is the new heroin*

* I lifted that line directly from Andy. Deal with it.

I'm back! I know, I know. It's been too long. The trip to Orange County was awesome. The trip to Sydney was legendary.

I’m only gonna talk briefly about the trip for now, because I don’t want to spoil anything in the slideshows. But I felt like one thing deserved its own post: the flight.

Yes, everybody knows the flight to Australia is unimaginably long -- fourteen and a half hours from Los Angeles to Sydney and twelve and a half hours from Sydney to Los Angeles. I don’t know about you, but I get antsy after four hours in an airplane. So fourteen and a half was bound to be a challenge.

However. I think I prepared myself pretty well for the flight out there. I was scheduled to leave at 11:45 pm, which meant I could spend the day wearing myself out. Which, in turn, would mean (hopefully) that I could sleep during the flight. Anyway, I woke up Wednesday morning (the 18th) at around 8:00 am. I was still in Orange County at the resort (see video below for awesome details). I rented a car and made my way up the coast. The plan was this: drive to Malibu to have lunch with my friend Barry. Return to his apartment in LA to do some laundry, see some sights, take a shower, go to the airport, fly to Sydney.

First off, Barry might have the coolest job on the planet. The guy designs toys for a living. In Malibu. His office has a view of the ocean on one side and mountains on the other. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. There were toys everywhere. It was incredible. We had lunch at a park near his office (and spotted Rob Lowe at the table next to us), then had a little afternoon coffee. I went back to his apartment and started my laundry. Then I decided to just “drive around” the neighborhood to see what I could find. Probably not the best idea, since I got lost and was lucky to find my way back to his place. Anyway, he got home and we hung out for a bit. I showered and before I knew it, it was time to return the rental car and head to the airport. So, sadly, my trip to LA included little more than one b-list celebrity sighting and a slightly obstructed view of the Hollywood sign.

There are plenty of details I could add here (LAX is a godforsaken dump, California is a dreamworld, the beach is awesome), but let’s get right to it. The flight. Earlier in the day, I had begun telling my brain it was actually seven hours earlier. So anytime I would check my watch, I would say, “oh, it’s 5:00 in the afternoon. No it isn’t. It’s 10:00 in the morning. It’s 10:00 in the morning. It’s 10:00 in the morning.” I had booked a window seat for myself, but worried that maybe I should have gotten an aisle seat. I get up more than most people and feel bad about squeezing in and out. No matter. I got on the plane and sat down. Each seat had a pillow and blanket, as well as a little travel kit with a toothbrush, some socks and an eye mask. The plane boarded surprisingly fast, and before I knew it, the doors were closed. And before I knew it, we were backing out. And before I knew it…waitaminute. I looked to my right. And a very, very wide smile crept across my face. I had the entire row to myself. Let me say that again. I had the entire row. To myself. Now then. There aren’t bolds bold enough or italics italicky enough to fully express just how fucking awesome that is. I get giddy when I have my own row on a 45-minute Southwest flight from Houston to Dallas. This, however, was a fourteen hour flight. I think I’ve made my point.

Anyway, they fed us about an hour into the flight. I was pretty tired from my day (it was well after midnight at this point), so I flipped through a couple channels, listened to some music, then decided to just call it a night. I popped a Xanax, made a little nest out of my three pillows and three blankets and went to sleep. And slept surprisingly well. I mean, having your own row helps with that.

When I woke up, the cabin was still dark. But I was awake (and well-rested!). I hesitated to check my watch, but did anyway. 4:00 am. Sydney time. Score! I’d somehow managed to be asleep or half-asleep for almost eight hours of this flight. An hour later, they served us breakfast. A couple hours after that, we landed. And the fun in Australia began. I won’t say I was completely okay that first day, because I did get a little foggy in the late afternoon. But overall, I think I handled the trip out there very well.

I’m gonna leave this part blank, because I’d feel ridiculous transitioning from the flight to Australia directly into the flight back from Australia. So…a moment of reflection for the week in Sydney…

Now then. The trip back was a different story. We’d been talking all week about the fabled A380, the biggest plane in the Qantas fleet. I was a little puzzled as to why it was such a big deal, because I figured the plane I rode over on was big enough. Well, lucky me, I was flying on an A380 back to LA. This….is the A380.


Nevermind the biggest airplane I’d ever ridden on…this was this biggest goddamned vehicle I’d ever seen. It was huge!! That picture doesn’t even do it justice!

My favorite part was the “sky cam.” They installed a camera in the very top of the tail, so you could flip to the “sky cam” channel on your TV and look down on the plane at any time during the flight. This was especially thrilling during takeoff (though it did freak me out a bit) and also gave a surreal “Dr. Strangelove”ish feel to the landing. Like we were riding a bomb into the ground.

I did get an aisle seat this time. The far right seat in the middle row. There was a huge Hawaiian to my left (who, not so subtly, annexed pieces of my seat as the flight wore on) and a very shrieky kid on my right. I’ve never heard a little kid cry so much. I almost stuffed him into an overhead compartment.

Anyway, my Friday (the 27th) looked like this:
8:00 am – woke up in Sydney.
10:00 am – had breakfast with Andy at a café by Bondi Beach.
11:00 am – off to the airport.
2:00 pm – boarded the behemoth of an airplane.
2:15(ish) pm – took off.
10:00 am – landed in LA.
1:00 pm (seriously? Three hours?) – sat at my Southwest gate awaiting the flight home.
3:00 pm – Spotted Bridget from Girls Next Door. Good LORD that girl does not look okay without makeup.
3:30 pm – the flight home…
8:00 pm – …but first a stop in San Antonio (groan).
9:30 pm – home!

With all the time changes, adding hours, losing hours….I was awake for something like 32+ hours, spending the bulk of those in either airports or airplanes.

Naturally, I crashed when I got home. I slept like a rock. Didn't budge.

I thought my 11:30 Friday night to 12:30 Saturday afternoon marathon would bring me up to speed. In fact, I was so confident that I was back to normal, that I spent the afternoon at West Alabama Ice House. Mistake #1. Then I went to dinner and had a margarita. Mistake #2. Then I went to a karaoke bar with a bunch of 23 year olds and drank twelve sake bombs! Mistake #3. By the time the night was over, I was blackout drunk. I fell asleep in my friend Emily’s bed, and that’s where it gets weird.

So, I woke up in the middle of the night. I was still drunk, but more than that, something was off. The jetlag (sleep deprivation, altitude, whatever) had shaken up the jelly jar that is my head and the chemicals were all sloshed around. I looked around. I was confused. Where the hell am I? Who the hell is this?! I stared intently and tried like hell to remember how I’d gotten there or what I’d done up to that point. Nothing. I couldn’t remember anything. And then (this is where it gets strange) I was convinced I’d been kidnapped and taken aboard a spaceship. Yes. These were the thoughts that actually ran through my fatigued and poisoned brain. Then finally, finally I saw something I recognized in her room and snapped back to reality. And then I laughed. And laughed. And kinda got scared. A note to anyone flying for 30 hours in a row – do NOT drink twelve sake bombs the day after you get back. I’m sure your doctor will tell you the same thing.

And now…

Part one…

Oops

I swear I meant to post one last time before my trip. But I got busy at work and now the day is winding to a close. Shit. I had so much to report on too! The crazy guy at my gym who literally has conversations with himself in the mirror, musings on work friendships and the frustrations of knowing I'll probably never talk to the co-worker that just quit ever again, the new Comcast commercials that are actually kind of enjoyable...

Oh well. The next time you hear from me, I'll have fun stuff to talk about. Dana Point, CA. Then Sydney! Weeeee!!

See you soon.

And now you know...the rest of the story

In honor of the late, great Paul Harvey (who I used to listen to on road trips with my mom), let’s run through some quick-hit Knuggets, shall we?

So, I’ve had a bit of an unhealthy obsession lately with Walker’s potato chips. Er…crisps. Walker’s is the UK’s answer to Lays, but instead of offering up garden-variety flavors like BBQ and Sour Cream & Onion, they’ve decided to raise the bar. Challenge the consumer’s palate. Test their limits. Right now they’re running a promotion to pick the next (ahem) flavour and the choices are as follows:

- Onion Bhaji
- Fish & Chips
- Cajun Squirrel
- Builder’s Breakfast (eggs, bacon, sausage and beans)
- Chilli & Chocolate
- Crispy Duck & Hoisin

Now then. I won’t go into too much detail about these (you can read a review here), because I haven’t been able to get my hands on any of them. And believe me, I’ve tried. Not only have I scoured the internet, but I even went so far as to ask my ex-girlfriend to buy a bag of Cajun Squirrel during her recent visit to Scotland.

She came back with two bags for me: Worcester and Prawn Cocktail. Sigh. britishdelights.com didn’t have Squirrel either. But! That didn’t stop me from ordering something. I decided on Pickled Onion, Smoky Bacon and Marmite. Why? Well, for one thing, I was hungry when I got to the website (leading to my spending $22 on a few measly bags of chips). But also because I wanted to order the most revolting flavors available. And they definitely delivered.

I’ll just say this – the British love their vinegar. Every flavor I tried was overwhelmingly vinegary. Anyway, the Prawn Cocktail was okay. The cocktail sauce kinda monopolized the flavor (making it taste like ketchup). But you could definitely taste the prawn. Er, shrimp. It was vinegary and salty and ketchuppy, with a bit of a sweet finish. (side note: Excuse me for not being more eloquent with my taste descriptions here. I’m not Andrew Zimmern. If something tastes like salt, you say it’s “salty.” Why can’t the same thing apply to ketchup? We all know what ketchup tastes like) Anyway, the Pickled Onion tasted like onion. Uhh…which is fine, I guess. If you really, really like onion. Smoky Bacon tasted like Bac-o’s. Which is to say they tasted like synthetic bacon.

Marmite was a tricky one, because I had absolutely no frame of reference for what they should have tasted like. Going in I knew that marmite was yeast extract. Similar to vegemite, but somehow different? But…what else did I know? Well, the chips smelled like dry dog food and tasted like pecan shells. I don’t what that means, exactly. They weren’t salty at all (or vinegary!), and they had kind of a dull, nutty taste.

They need to rename the (ahem) flavours:

Worcester is now “Vinegar Kick To Your Face”
Prawn Cocktail is now “Sweet Ketchup of the Sea”
Pickled Onion is now “Fucking Onion In Your Mouth”
Smoky Bacon is now “Robot Bacon”
Marmite is now “Pecan Shells & Beneful”

Delicious.

Page two…

I started tanning yesterday. I’ve only tanned once before in my life, and it was when I lived in Minnesota. I did it then because I hadn’t seen the sun in about a month and a half and my skin was literally becoming translucent. Also, my sister’s wedding was right around the corner. And as you know, those pictures last forever. Strangely enough, I really enjoyed it. Laying in a bright, warm place for even 20 minutes becomes necessary when you’ve been dealing with single digit temperatures, gray skies and constant snowfall for six months. Anyway, I wasn’t thrilled about having to start again (especially since the sun shines plenty here and it’s gonna be hot as hell before too long anyway), but I need to get a base tan before my trips. I burn easily, and the last thing I need is to fry myself on the first day in California. So I’m gonna be climbing into that neon casket for the next two weeks. Hopefully I don’t end up looking like Magda from There’s Something About Mary.

Page three…

I’m still on the workout wagon. I’ve been at it for just over a month now and have managed to shed a few pounds. I think I’m about to hit a wall though. I’m sick to death of working out and I’m sick to death of eating Healthy Choice microwave slop for lunch every day. But! I’ve got my eyes on the prize. The trip to California is now only twelve days away, and the flight to Sydney is only fifteen days away. So I’m gonna keep working out, and eating right and taking it easy on the booze. I’m sure I’ll more than make up for it when I’m on vacation. Between Disney Land, resort buffets, Portuguese Chicken outfits, Little Bear beer and our (tentative) Mexican Fiesta de Australia…well, it’s possible I’ll gain every pound back.

Healthy Snack of the Day: 100 Calorie Packs Chips Ahoy! Chewy Granola Bars

Calories: 100
Total Fat: 2.5 g
Protein: 2 g

I have to say, Nabisco’s 100 calorie granola bars are amazing. I’ve mostly been rotating between the Chips Ahoy! and Nutter Butter bars, but they’ve got an Oreo bar as well. They’re sweet, they’re chewy and they’re tasty. And they’re small. But what do you expect when they’re 100 calories? It’s got a lot of chocolate chips and actually tastes like a cookie. Well. Cookie dough. Which is better than a cookie anyway, right? I keep meaning to try out the rest of the Nabisco 100 calorie line (which is substantial), but I’m having a hard time pulling myself away from the old favorites.

Pros: Tastes like cookie dough, plenty of chocolate chips
Cons: Gone in two bites

And finally, happy 30th birthday, Marcus! I had no idea you read this. Now you have to leave a comment.

I’m Paul Harvey (pause) Good day?

Mickey & Mickey's

A quick update since I haven’t had a chance to post anything this week…

We’re now at Day 32 of my “no drinking” challenge, and…well…that’s a lie. I fell off the wagon. Okay, I don’t want to say I “fell off the wagon,” because that makes it sound like I failed. More like, “I asked the wagon to pull over and let me off, because I felt like I’d made it to my destination.” Basically, I proved to myself that I could do it, and I was satisfied. During my sobriety challenge, I faced down several drinking opportunities and passed each of them with flying colors. Observe:

- The Super Bowl
- Valentine’s Day
- Happy Hour with co-workers
- Bowling
- Friday night at the bar

Not only is it tempting to drink in these situations, people get angry if you’re not drinking in these situations! So. Success. Kinda. It’s true, I’m a little disappointed I didn’t make it the full forty days, but I wanted a margarita last week and I’ll be damned if some non-court-ordered, self-imposed challenge was gonna stop me.

Anyway. This past weekend I attended an art gala. This is not something I would typically do. But. The girl who runs the organization is a friend of mine, and I wanted to be supportive. And I thought it might be a good chance to meet some new people.

I went over to the studio space Saturday afternoon to help with the setup (volunteering = not having to buy an $85 ticket), and quickly realized I was out of my element. When some girl told me I needed to ruche the curtain, I stared at her blankly for a few seconds, until she decided to have me move tables instead.

The event was fun (pictures here if you're interested). Very artsy. They had naked sushi, which was kinda awesome. That's where the sushi is placed (strategically, of course) all over the body of a naked woman. From what I'd read about it in the past, the girl is supposed to lie perfectly still the entire time, while people just pluck sushi from off of her. Well...for one thing, you didn't pluck anything from anywhere -- you would tell the guy what you wanted and he would carefully remove and replace the sushi (fair enough). But when she saw that I was a little flustered (well?!) she giggled! And then chatted with me! Not very geisha-like (not that I'm complaining). Anyway, this was her...


Anyway, there was performance art (groan). Lots and lots of berets. It was exactly what you would expect an art gala to be. I'm glad I went though. I think I'm going to try to force myself outside of my comfort zone this year. Be sociable. Meet people. I guess that means I'll be going to more art galas.

Now then. The next couple of weeks should be pretty quiet. This is because I have a very big trip coming up. I’m going to a resort outside of LA for four days and then I’m off to Sydney for a week after that! I’m thrilled about both trips. The trip to LA (Dana Point, actually) is care of my dear brother, who was awarded top salesman for his region (or something). We’re staying here...


Fun! The cherry on top of this little sundae is that not only do we get to spend three days relaxing by the beach, but we also get to go to Disneyland!

Because our father is notoriously cheap, we never visited Disneyland as kids. Or Disney World. In fact, the only vacation that we ever went on as children (aside from trips to grandma and grandpa's house) was a grueling, two-day, sixteen hour drive to Cincinnati, so our dad could go to a college reunion. Good times. Anyway, not only did my deprived childhood cement in me an unwavering commitment to take my kids on awesome vacations...it also allowed for Richard and I to squeal with joy at the idea of going to Disneyland. Sure, it might be a little unusual (or scary) to see two identical grown men skipping gleefully through the “Tinker Bell & Her Fairy Friends” exhibit. But I don’t care. It’s gonna be awesome.

Easy, breezy and beer-free...

Happy Friday, everybody! This week has been…well, kinda boring, actually. As busy as I was last week (really, really busy), I’m just as not-busy this week. It’s not a bad way to work. One week on, one week off.

Anyway, we’re getting ever closer to Weekend #3 of my personal “no more booze…for right now, anyway” challenge. (side note: this test of my willpower deserves a better name. Suggestions are welcome)

The first weekend was difficult. Only because I had to break a routine I’d been following for, oh I don’t know, the past ten years. Also, the Super Bowl fell on that Sunday, so avoiding booze meant sitting at home on my couch and watching the game alone. I was okay with that.

The second weekend was a little better. I struggled through a work happy hour, but it was pretty easy to stay strong. You know, since I was just getting into the flow.

This weekend will be a good test. Tomorrow, Saturday, is Valentine’s Day. And I am without Valentine. It figures that the one year Valentine’s Day falls on a Saturday, I’m staying sober. This would be the perfect day to go out with my single friends and celebrate our independence and hit on strangers.

Anyway, I’m proud of myself so far – I managed to stay dry during the Super Bowl and I should manage to stay dry during Valentine’s Day (assuming this weekend goes as planned). But let’s face it – the Super Bowl, Valentine’s Day…a lot of things, really…are just better when you can have a few drinks. This kind of thinking led to the following list: Events or holidays that become exponentially less fun when alcohol is taken out of the equation. Obviously, there are gonna be pros (and cons) to not drinking for each of these, and those are listed as well. Enjoy and please feel free to add your own in the comments!

Baseball games – I considered including “all sporting events” in this slot, but I’ve been to plenty of college football games sober, and they’ve been perfectly enjoyable without the help of alcohol. Baseball is different though. When you go to a baseball game, you rarely pay any attention to the field anyway, right? You spend most of your time chit chatting with your buddies and getting drunk.

Cons: Beer sure does go well with hotdogs and peanuts, doesn’t it? Also, baseball is boring.
Pros: You don’t have to pay $8 for a beer. And you can still eat delicious ballpark goodies and hang out with your friends for a few hours. Oh, and you get to see a game. Meh.

Bowling – Let’’s face it, beer is the bowler’s Gatorade. I’ve been bowling a few times without drinking, and it’s still okay. But…well, it’s only okay.

Cons: Bowling alleys are disgusting. There’s always some morbidly obese, chain-smoking trailer squid snacking on greasy onion rings in the lane right next to you, yelling at her shitty kid who’s kicking the Big Choice machine. It stinks. There’s a cloud of grime in the air. And bowling, as a game, isn’t that fun.
Pros: I kinda like the “rumble…splash!” sounds of the bowling alley. And bowling can be a nice way to kill an hour. Despite what I just said in the “cons” section.

Floating the river – I hadn’t even considered this one until a conversation I had with my buddy Steve yesterday. I hadn’t considered it, because, who the hell floats a river without drinking?! From Steve…

When asked if floating the river would be a fun activity to do while in town with the in-laws, I thought it would be alright. You know, relax and get some sun…… I failed to realize that alcohol doesn’t fly with the in-laws. So we had to choose between the 2, 4, and 6 hour floats. We chose the 2 just to be safe. Floating a river would be fun, however there are about 200 shit-tanked college students trying to drown themselves with beer bongs and melted Jell-O shots floating mere inches from you. Needless to say we got out after 55 not-relaxing, obnoxious minutes...if I had ingested about 6 silver-bullets before I got my Speedo wet, I would be telling you about the most kick-ass time I ever had on a river. I want a do-over.

So…yeah. I can imagine this being not only “less fun,” but possibly “excruciating.”

Cons: So. Boring. Also, you’re surrounded by drunk people who are having the best times of their lives.
Pros: Hmm. You get some sun. You’re still in a swimsuit in the water.

New Year’s Eve – Personally, I’ve never had a sober New Year’s Eve. But I have had a miserable New Year’s Eve, so I know what it’s like to sit around waiting for midnight.

Cons: You’re forced to stay up late.
Pros: You might still get some smooches from other drunken party guests.

St. Patrick’s Day – I have no idea why a person would even leave the house on St. Patrick’s Day without the intention of getting throw-up drunk. I mean, this holiday was created as a celebration of booze, right?

Cons: Speaking from experience (my work happy hour this past weekend), there’s nothing less fun than being the only sober person there.
Pros: You’ll see some spirited games of beer pong, maybe a fight or two and at least seven puddles of green vomit.

Music Festival – I can speak from experience on this one, since I was battling some variation of bird flu during this past year’s ACL Festival. While beer (and possibly drugs) will make a music festival unimaginably entertaining, it’s not a necessity. I mean, you’re there for the music, right? Right?

Cons: It really is a lot more fun when your inhibitions are long gone.
Pros: You get to see live music. And you might actually remember some of it (ahem, MGMT from SXSW last year).

Mardi Gras – As with St. Patrick’s Day, I have no idea why you would wander into New Orleans during Mardi Gras with no intention to drink. From what I’ve heard, the French Quarter is unbelievably packed, and really, the only way to keep yourself from being completely overwhelmed and pissed off by the crowds of drunken revelers...is to join the crowds of drunken revelers.

Cons: You might get beat up, thrown up on or suffocated. And you’ll leave the weekend hating drunk people.
Pros: You can still watch the parades and catch some beads. And you are still in New Orleans. Also, you might see some boobs.

Church – Just kidding. Maybe. I went to an Easter service in Lamesa, TX once with a blistering hangover, and I have to admit, it made the service a little more interesting. Don’t get me wrong, I was completely miserable. I was sweating profusely and had to sit down when everyone else was standing and singing. But the vigor and intensity of the west Texas Baptist minister was a bit funnier with the help of residual whiskey.

Cons: Cons to not going to church drunk? Uhh...none?! I guess a little buzz/massive hangover can make the service a little more entertaining?
Pros: Not going to hell.

Happy Valentine’s Day everybody! I hope Cupid pays you a visit this weekend!

99 bottles of beer on the wall...

When I got dry as a desert, I got mean. I was as lonely and empty as a canteen. With no anesthetic, you're bound to be sore. But tonight I am drinkin' all peaceful and warm.
- Bright Eyes “Well Whiskey”

So, weekend two of my personal “no booze” challenge has come and gone. Obviously, the weekends are the toughest. Especially when you have days like Saturday – the sun was shining, it was around 75 degrees...I mean…day-drinking was invented for days like this past Saturday! But! I stayed strong. This was not easy.

In fact, I went to a work happy hour Friday night, and drank nothing but club soda. It’s true. We were at a bar called Porch Swing (imagine picnic tables, wood floors, neon signs). I walked up to the bar (which was crowded) and yelled my order over the heads of some people. “Can I get a club soda?” The bartender kinda rolled his eyes and poured my drink, and then proceeded to ridicule me, much to the delight of the crusty old barflies sitting at the bar. At first I got angry (“Oh, nice. Okay, fine. Make it a triple whiskey and I’ll just go ahead and wrap my car around a tree!”). Then I wrote it off as “he’s just having a little fun at my expense.” Asshole.

I had a good time Friday night, but I did get a little bored toward the end. As the night wore on, everyone was talking louder and louder and revealing things about themselves that they probably shouldn’t have. Usually, that would've been me. So it was strange to see it through sober eyes. Like having an out-of-body experience or something. But it was kinda boring being the only sober guy around a bunch of drunks.

Saturday, I woke up early (8:30ish) and was pretty productive. I made breakfast, I worked out, I went to the grocery store, I walked over to a bookstore to buy a Sydney guidebook(!), I bought some refrigerator magnets…yeah. Thrilling.

I didn’t have any plans Saturday night. In fact, it’s possible I would’ve stayed in that night even without this self-imposed sobriety challenge. I read some (finally finished “Cider House Rules!” Great book, by the way), I flipped through the channels. And, unfortunately, I landed on Comedy Central, which was showing (you guessed it), “Beerfest.” The plot (from IMDB):

After the death of their grandfather Johann von Wolfhause, the brothers Jan and Todd Wolfhouse travel to Munich to fulfill a family tradition, spreading the ashes of Johann during the Oktoberfest. Their contact brings them to a secret beer competition, the Beerfest", where they are offended by Baron Wolfgang von Wolfhausen and the German branch of their family that accuse their grand grandmother of being a prostitute and their grandfather of stealing an old receipt of the best beer in Germany. Jan and Todd returns to USA humiliated and decide to organize a beer team to dispute the next Beerfest. They join Landfill, Barry and Fink and train long the year to participate in the competition. When they find the lost receipt hidden in a dummy, they feel that their German relatives told the truth. But the team is ready for the tough dispute.

First off, “receipt” should actually be “recipe.” Not that this movie really had a plot anyway (in fact, having a plot synopsis for this movie is like having one for a porno. It should either say “beer!” or “fuckin’!”) But…well, it makes even less sense with our heroes having a secret “receipt” as leverage against the German team. Anyway, the point is, they drank a lot during this movie. A lot. I was practically frothing at the mouth. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. But…well, you know how after you watch “Half Baked,” you kinda want to go home and get super stoned? Same thing here. It made me want a beer. Badly. On top of that, I’ve got 20 beers in my fridge right now. I bought them a few weeks ago and never got around to drinking them. They were practically singing to me from the kitchen.

But anyway, I feel good. I haven’t had a hangover since January 25th. I think I’m losing a little weight. And I'm clear-headed enough to write a blog entry on a Monday…so far, so good. This next weekend is Valentine’s Day. It falls on a Saturday. And I don’t have a Valentine. Umm…it’s possible I might be denying myself one of the most enjoyable drinking nights of the year. But we soldier on! The end date for my little challenge (tentatively) is March 15th. Why March 15th? Well, I may be going out to California for a few days with Richard for a corporate rah-rah weekend/retreat/vacation. I’m very excited about this. And that first drink will be heavenly.

Ramblings...

Hello! This past week has been hellacious at work. A few updates…

The Super Bowl was on this past Sunday. The Steelers beat the Cardinals. Going into the game, I was indifferent about who won, but as the game moved along, I found myself pulling for the Cardinals more and more. I mean, they’re the NFL’s signature shitty franchise. And they don’t even get to be “loveable losers” like the Cubs. People simply don’t pay attention to them. So here they were, at the end of the game, with an opportunity to beat the team that has more Super Bowl trophies than any other franchise…and they lost. So. It was a good game, I guess (even though the first three quarters were incredibly boring), but the ending just left a sour taste in my mouth.

Anyway, Bruce Springsteen played at halftime. This annoyed me. For one thing, I think Bruce is wildly overrated. I mean, he’s okay, but I don’t think he’s worthy of all the slobbering praise he seems to get. But that’s not really my point here. Whether you like or dislike Bruce Springsteen, whatever. To each his own. My problem is that, lately, the Super Bowl halftime show has become the annual “Legends of Classic Rock” show. Let’s look back over the past few years, shall we?

Super Bowl XLIII – Bruce Springsteen
Super Bowl XLII – Tom Petty
Super Bowl XLI – Prince
Super Bowl XL – The Rolling Stones
Super Bowl XXXIX – Paul McCartney
Super Bowl XXXVIII – Janet Jackson, Justin Timberlake, Nelly, P. Diddy, Kid Rock

Ahhhh…so that was the one that ruined it. One stupid nipple and we’re cursed to watch our parents rock out from here to eternity.

Now it’s true, the previous Super Bowl halftime shows kinda alternated between contemporary and oldie, but it seems like they’ve just stopped even entertaining the idea of using someone current anymore. Would a halftime show of, say, Katy Perry, Lil’ Wayne and Coldplay have been so horrible? Uhh…don’t answer that. I guess my point is this – why is time stamping the Super Bowl a bad idea? Sure, ten years from now, people might say “who the hell is Katy Perry?” but that’s part of the fun! I mean, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy has played the Super Bowl, for crying out loud. And Nelly has played it twice!

If I had to guess, I would say chances are pretty good that next year’s halftime show will either feature The Who or Robert Plant and Jimmy Page. And we may end up with a Fleetwood Mac sighting. Although, now that I think about it…Bon Jovi. Next year’s halftime show will be played by Bon Jovi. Write it down now. It’s gonna happen.

I saw The Wrestler this past weekend. I was really looking forward to it, because I watched wrestling when I was a kid. In fact, the first magazine I ever subscribed to was WWF magazine. It’s true. So, the movie…umm…wasn’t that great. Maybe I’d be singing a different tune if I had seen it when it first came out. But I allowed myself to hype it up in my head for way too long. It wasn’t a bad movie, by any means. In fact, it was a very good movie. It was just slow. And depressing. And gloomy and gray. And a little dull.

Anyway, there were some very annoying people sitting directly behind me in the theater. Not exactly the kind of people I would expect to see a movie about a washed up, painkiller-addicted wrestler. They talked loudly before the movie started. You know, so everyone could hear what they were talking about.

Girl one: This theater reminds me of Sundance. (I roll my eyes)
Girl two: How so?
Girl one: Oh, I don’t know. Just the…like, the classic wooden sculpting and the heavy curtain.

Girl two spills her popcorn everywhere. They laugh and make overly intelligent and overly articulate observations about popcorn.

Girl two: Would you like a goat milk caramel? (I roll my eyes again)

Two guys join them. One immediately spills his popcorn everywhere. They snoot and laugh uproariously.

Then they went on to talk about eco-friendly kitty litter (I roll my eyes yet again), and they would chirp about every foreign language trailer we saw. And they must have thought The Wrestler was a very, very, very dark comedy. Because they sure did laugh at a lot of stuff that was as far from funny as you could imagine. How a daughter yelling “Fuck you!” to her estranged father could warrant a chuckle is beyond me.

Some big news…earlier this week I booked a flight to Sydney! Hooray! Yes, it’s true, I’m flying halfway around the world to spend a week down under. I’ll be joined by Andy (of course), but also my old friend Sam and another friend of ours, Sarah (both flying in from NYC). I’m really looking forward to this trip. I haven’t been out of the country in almost three years, and I didn’t even have to cross an ocean for that one (to Montreal).

I’m curious to see what Australia is like. I really have no idea what to expect. I mean, forgive my American ignorance here, but…what the hell is it like?! Will Sydney feel European? Or…Canadian? (side note: I know what you’re thinking, so I’ll just say it. It’s gonna feel Australian, stupid. Beecause it’s Australia. Not Europe. Or Canada. Still. I have a bad habit of needing a frame of reference for everything. Clearly I don’t have one here.)

Anyway, I’m flying out on March 18th. This gives me exactly six weeks to get into shape. Since, you know, it’s summer over there right now. That’s not much time to work with and beach time is coming a whole hell of a lot earlier than I was planning. So how am I gonna do this? Well, I’m probably gonna be reintroducing the “healthy snack of the day” feature on this blog. (side note: I must say, since I stopped reviewing healthy snacks, the 100 calorie snack market has absolutely exploded. Last year, I had maybe six or seven things to choose from. Now everything has a “100 calorie pack” equivalent! So. Coming soon!)

I’ve also decided to give up booze for awhile. This might be impossible. I managed to stay dry last weekend, but I’m getting thirsty. And six weeks is probably too much to ask. However! I like the occasional will power challenge, so maybe I’ll be able to stick it out. Don’t hold your breath though.

Year in Review, part two.

Well, I had every intention of posting part two of the 2008 Year in Review a few days after part one. You should know better than to expect that kind of accountability from me. Moving on!

September
I don't want to pat myself on the back too much for this, but my entry about Hurricane Ike was strangely prescient...

...here's a picture of the path Galveston's hurricane took.


And just for shits and grins, here's a picture of Ike's projected path, scheduled to hit sometime this weekend. He's gonna beat us like he beat Tina.


I say it was prescient because Ike basically wiped Galveston off the map...again.

October
Well, this is about the time the blog went dark, so I'm going off of memory. The first thing that pops to mind when I think about October is Texas Tech football. This was easily the best season we've had since...well, ever. We -- Tech fans -- were incredibly excited (our excitement even led to a cross-sectional trashtalk blog that started with ambitious intentions, but ultimately turned into a one-person rant....kinda like this blog!). Anyway, October was easily our finest month, culminating in a last second, for-the-ages victory over #1 Texas (it technically happened on November 1st, but I was wearing a Halloween costume at the time, so it's going here).


(side note: Brent Musberger's call sucked. The call on the play was fine, but everything after that just sucked the life out of the moment. No wonder ESPN uses the Texas Tech radio call when they show that play)

November
November got off to a great start! Not only did Texas Tech knock off #1 Texas (have I mentioned that?), but I became an uncle! Yup. Uncle Robert. My sister went into labor at halftime of the Tech/Texas game (how rude!) and gave birth to a healthy baby boy the following morning. Being an uncle is great. You get to play with the baby, hold him, squeeze his little toes...and when he starts crying, you get to go into the other room! Why would I ever have children of my own?!


December
You know, after such an eventful year...December was pretty quiet. I turned 29. A lot of people have asked me how I feel about that. You know, being one year closer to 30. I don't understand why I should be panicking about this. 29 is one full year from 30. So I've got til December to really get my life in order. Right? Right.

So we're moving on! 2009 is already 27 days old. There's a lot to get to, but first...

...just in time to ruin your post-Christmas diet, it’s time to serve up some hot, crispy, delicious knuggets! (one sauce per customer, please).

They’ve been remaking a lot of horror movies lately. Starting with Texas Chainsaw Massacre in 2003, followed by Halloween in 2007, and now Friday the 13th (coming to a theatre near you on Friday! The 13th! Of…uhh…February.)

Is any movie off limits? Is nothing sacred?! I mean, Halloween was pretty groundbreaking (from what I’ve been told). Not that I’m complaining. My biggest problem with today’s horror movies is that none of them really has a villain. It seems like every horror movie from the past ten years has relied too much on anticipation and suspense, when ultimately, the super scary killer was just a dead Japanese kid in his underwear meowing at our heroine. Anyway. The previews I’ve seen for Friday the 13th feature Jason pretty prominently. Am I crazy or was he not even in Friday the 13th? But I’m being picky. And really, that’s not the point I was trying to make here. The point I was trying to make was this – how soon is too soon? The original Texas Chainsaw Massacre was made in 1974, so thirty years passed before the remake. Halloween came out in 1978. Again, nearly 30 years passed. Friday the 13th came out in 1980. So…you guessed it…30 years. Does that seem a little too soon? If 30 years is the new cutoff, we can expect the following movies in the next twelve months or so:

Animal House (July 1978) – depending on who got the rights to this, the remake would either star Jonah Hill and Michael Cera, and be a sweet comedy full of dick and fart jokes…or it would star a cast of nobodies and go straight to DVD. And be full of dick and fart jokes.

Grease (June 1978) – With the success of Hairspray and Mamma Mia…I gotta think this is already being talked about in a conference room somewhere in LA.

The Wiz (October 1978) – starring Chris Brown as the scarecrow, Ne-Yo as the Tin Man, T-Pain as the cowardly lion and Beyonce as Dorothy!


Lord of the Rings (November 1978) Oh wait…

The Warriors (February 1979) – Ugh. This is inevitable, isn’t it?

Alien (May 1979) – I don’t know. I wasn’t a huge fan of the original. Kinda…boring? But it could be good if they redid it well. Right?

The Fish that Saved Pittsburgh (November 1979) – Finally! I’ve been waiting for them to remake this forever!

Star Trek: The Motion Picture (December 1979) Oh wait…

I’ll just say this – The Neverending Story was released in 1984. We’re waaaaiting, Hollywood.

Well, it would be negligent of me not to mention that we swore in our 44th president last week. And to be honest, I’m excited. Maybe I’m just getting caught up in the madness, but…well, whether that’s the case or not…it’s exciting! President Obama seems like a man who sticks to his convictions and really does have the noblest intentions for this country. Now then. This isn’t a political blog. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned anything even remotely political on this blog. That’s because I don’t follow politics. I know. It’s irresponsible, whatever. I told myself I would follow sports and music til I was 30, then I would switch over to politics. And I plan to spend the next eleven months doing just that. Anyway, my point. My point. What was my point? Ah. I was watching ESPN (sports!) last week, and for some reason, they decided to film Lebron James as he was watching the inauguration with his kids. His kids looked like they were five and two years old, at the most, so naturally, they just bounced around on the couch, not paying attention. So philosopher/political activist Lebron began spouting various platitudes about historical this and landmark that. Fine. I agree. Then he threw out the ol’ “I never thought that, in my lifetime, I’d live to see a black president.” Alright, that’s enough. Maybe I’m naïve. Maybe I don’t really understand just how insidery and exclusionary Washington is. But I, for one, did think I’d see a black president in my lifetime! I mean, how can a guy (who’s only 24, I might add) like Lebron James – he of a worldwide marketing campaign and hundred million dollar endorsement contract – think that the idea of a black president is so outrageous that it simply wasn’t going to happen sometime in the next seventy years?!

In other sports-related news…you may have heard, but there’s a big game that’s been monopolizing most of the sports media this week. That’s right…the NHL All Star Game! Yup, it was held last week in Montreal, and the East edged the West 12-11. I seriously had no idea the NHL All Star Game was happening so soon. Come to think of it, when did their season start?

I don’t know why the NHL has fallen out of favor with American audiences. Maybe it’s the alienating effect of those thick Canadian accents on the announcers (“And Edmonton brings oot their third line agay-nst Mantioba’s first!”), maybe it’s the fact that the sport is played on ice, maybe it’s the impossible-to-see puck. Or maybe it’s the fact that they have All Stars named Dion Phaneuf and Anze Kopitar. Zdeno Chara! Kimmo Timonen!

Ilya Kovalchuk, everybody! Let's get 2009 under way!