I'm all alone tonight

Last night was the big celebration for Paco's last day. We trained together, Paco and I, and have been in the group exactly the same amount of time. Unless you deduct the days he's called in and all the hours he's shown up late, then he's only been here about three days for every five of mine.

Last week I got a promotion, and Paco found himself a new job. He says it's closer to his apartment, easier commute. So, in traditional fashion, the group went out drinking to celebrate.

At first it was uneventful, Paco had picked a bar that had happened to have a private UMass reunion and it was packed. So we waited outside for twenty minutes, which was fine, because yesterday was gorgeous. We got in, stood around listening to the managers talk about work and other managers and how long they've been with the company.

Then half of the group left, because they don't really care. The UMass party was breaking up so we moved to the patio where one of our group ran into these four girls he went to school with, he left with them.

Meanwhile, in the backgroun, while this is all going on the kid I hate is getting drunker and drunker. I hate this kid. This is the kid, the first week I was here, I'd see him and think "I hate that kid." Two months ago he was moved into our group, and, because I'm a nice guy, I gave him another chance. It's one thing to hate someone on sight, but maybe they're an ok person and good to work with.

Well, not this guy. I still hate him, and now, after seeing him stumbling around drunk I feel a little uncomfortable working in the same group. It was revealed, during his stumbling around drunkedness, that though he is widely suspected to be gay he recorded himself banging some girl with his camera phone. Which is creepy enough as it is. It was then revealed that he showed the video to our AVP. Why? I have no idea! What the hell is with this kid? I have no idea.

It was at this point in the evening that a welcome distraction from the creepy kid tapped me on the shoulder. She introduced herself as Julie, she was drunk, and she wanted to wear my hat.

I refused her request on the basis that my hat hair looked ridiculous, which led to a heated argument, which ended when she grabbed my hat and put it on. The group of friends she was with then started giving her a hard time because "he's like twelve." Because, turns out, she's a little older than I am. She yelled back at her friends something like "He's not twelve, he's like, twenty-five!" and then had to double check with me. I told her no, I'm barely twenty-three, and the next words outof her mouth were "I'm going to make out with you later tonight, you know that right?" And then she told me she was twenty-seven. I was way too young for her so I took my hat back.

The rest of the night went a lot like that. She kept making out with me, her friends kept yelling at her, she asked me to come visit her in Chicago, etc. Oh, and then the one friend who was giving her the hardest time about hanging out with me then split off the group to go suck face with some fifty year old guy. No joke, he couldn't have been less than fifty.

I left at midnight, much to her dissapointment. She called me twice on my way home and left a text message on my phone. I have no idea how drunk she was, but you can bet I'm calling her tonight to see how much she regrets it. :-Þ


This is the first time anything like this has happened to me.

-tgme
recommended download:
Bowling for Soup, I'm Just A Kid, and Girl All The Bad Guys Want

I'm Just a Kid

I don't know when I'll have time to recount the details of last night, but you should stay tuned because it involves alcohol, women, and chicago, so you know it'll be good.

-t
recommended download:
Bowling for Soup, Emily

Wake me up, before you go-go

Yesterday I went to the bank to deposit my paycheck. As I left the bank I began thinking about my finances. I was thinking about the car payment I now have that will be taking a significant amount of money from my account every month, and I resolved to stop spending money on "luxury" items (things like dvds, comic books, serial novels, new hats, sunglasses, ring tones, etc).

Though I do have a tendency to buy inexpensive impulse items (the sunglasses, hats, and ring tones) it is a tendency that is easy to curb. However, there was a time, not too long ago, I would spend $100 on new dvds, or drop $120 on trade paperbacks. This binge spending is the greatest threat to a healthy bank account.

So, I resolved to stop spending money. No more lunches out, no more buying nine or ten tpb's at a time, no more anything. Reduce expenditures: car, T-pass, car insurance, and student loans. That's it. No more money spent on anything else, none. This I resolve.

I then walked from the bank to the comic book store, and spent fifty bucks on books I don't need.

How's that for will power.
-t
recommended download:
Wham, Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

The trap door in my head

Damn. I really had a great post and then I forgot it.

Must have escaped.
Oh well.

-t
recommended download:
Brian Webb, Perfect Lil' Imperfection
Weezer, Simple Pages, and Perfect Situation

The One Where I Ruin The Ending

***SPOILER***

-This is a post about Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince-

Stop reading now if you don't want me to spoil the ending!

Ok, so Fred dies. I can't believe Hermione became a Death Eater, and has Kingsley always been gay?

***end of spoiler***

ok, ok, I kid. I would never reveal details to a book online, especially a book I wouldn't even admit to reading. I'm just letting you know, you can talk to me about the book if you'd like too, but if you do it here please be considerate of other readers and try not to reveal any details.

And to say this: Harry Potter may be a hero, but it has taken him too many books to get there. It seems I do care about the characters developed by Rowling, but take offense that they were created under the guise of a "children's book." I take even more offense in their vast popularity. There are more copies of Harry Potter in print than the Bible. It might have been different if Rowling had done it without the media machine, but we'll have no way of knowing. The last two or three books have been well-written, but I cannot respect them. Will Stanton is a hero. He did it without the hype.

-t
recommended download:
Avril Levigne, Mobile

Colorado

I needed a new backpack going in to sophmore year of high school, and courier bags were all the rage so I began looking for one. I found it in an L.L.Bean catalogue: a big black bag with colored panels avaiable in red, blue, gold, green, black, and silver. The bag being modeled in the catalogue by a youth on a mountain bike had the red panels with the word "Red" clearly superimposed over the middle part of the bag just in case, I don't know, your colorblind uncle was looking to order you a christmas present. I thought to myself, that superimposed "Red" is in the same position on the bag as the embroidered initials would go...

So, because I wanted the very bag I had seen on page 27, because it would be different, because three giant capital initials always look stupid on those backpacks, and, because it was free, I had them stitch "Red" onto the bag. As I was ordering it, by phone, the saleswoman asked what color I'd like. I said "um, red." She then asked if there was an alternate color I would prefer, if the red was not in stock. I thought a minute and said "blue" because as cool as having a red bag labeled "Red" was, it might be just as cool to have a blue bag with the same label.

Anyway. The bag came, I loved it, it was giant, could fit anything, it was cool, it was red, it was labeled "Red" and it caused me explanations no end. "No, it's not my nickname, it's the color of the bag" "No, those aren't my initials" and so on.

The point is, the bag was red, and the name on the bag was "Red."

Which is why I find it amusing that my new Chevy Colorado is dark red. The truck is red, and the name on the truck is Colorado, in spanish: "red colored."

It was not by design, I took what was on the lot. It just so happened to be a red, five-cylinder, four-wheel drive, four-door, power everything, and oh-by-the-way satellite radio, chrome finish, and dark-gray wheel-flared trimmed-out beauty.

bam.
-tom
recommended downloads:
The Shins, High Horse
The Old 97's, Timebomb, and Am I Too Late
Phil Ochs, I'm Gonna Say It Now
The Muppet Babies, I'm Gonna Always Love You
NOFX, Gin 'n Juice (Snoop Dogg cover)
Flogging Molly, Rare Ould Times
Three Doors Down, Here Without You

Growing up

So, this is my birthday post. Happy birthday to me.

To celebrate I put a deposit down on a five-cylinder, four-wheel-drive, crew-cab Chevy Colorado.

Somebody congratulate me! Now I have car payments!
-t

recommended download:
Blink-182, Emo

I don't think girls get it.

I don't blame them, it's not like I'm out there expaining it to them, which is the only way they would get it. Unless they were mind-readers.

So, instead of going out there to explain it, I'll try it here.

I'm willing to change. It's like that play that ran on broadway for a while "I love you, now change." It was supposed to be a joke, you know, guy meets girl, guy marries girl, girl tries to make him change into the man she wants him to be, guy resists change with every inch of his being.

Not me though. I'm like a metal. Malleable, ductile, changeable. I have a few core principles, a few core beliefs and practices, the things that make me who I am. But the rest of it?

It's up for grabs.

I mean it, cosmetic details, for example. T-shirts vs. button-down? Color of the house? Naming the dogs? All negotiable, all easily negotiable. I don't have many holdouts. Why wouldn't I want to make the girl as happy or as content as I possibly could?

I'll always be a red sox fan. I'll always want eighteen kids. I'll always want my kids raised in New England.

All I mean to say is this, I'm willing to change, and I want you to know.

-t
recommended download:
Bob Schneider, Metal And Steel

God is my friend

Well, now it's official. I am promoted

They announced it in today's impromptu group meeting. I didn't get nearly as many dirty stares as I'd anticipated, which I hope bodes well. It could be they were all just too tired to react. I know I was.

From now on, in my new role as senior, I will be responsible for more and more work. I will have increasingly less time to slack off [read: update the blog]. This additional work has pros and cons, like
Pros:
keeping busy seems to make the day go by quicker
new responsibilities mean new things to learn, and boy do I like to learn
I get to boss people around!

Cons:
no more sitting around
less time for doodling
more problems to solve...wait, that should be a pro, I like solving problems.
being resented by coworkers for my rocket-like ascencion through the ranks
hypermanager treating me as if his every whim is my command (it isn't)

anyway, there are others, ones I haven't experienced yet, but hey, that's what the blog is here for right? to chronicle and document fabricated stories about work.

until next time,
-tom

recommended downloads:
The Offspring, Something To Believe In
Queen, Fat-Bottomed Girls
and
Bob Schneider, God Is My Friend

Breakfast in hell

Today they served breakfast at the office.

It was nice. Every friday we pay a dollar into the "floor fund" and every seven or eight weeks they throw a little party or an event. Usually it involves food. Sometimes alcohol (sadly, no mimosas today). But, as was pointed out by one of my coworkers, the food served is very rarely seven or eight dollars worth...where is the rest of our floor fund money going?

I'm thinking about setting up a spreadsheet to track income and expenditures.
(I probably won't though ;)

-t
recommended download (what else?):
Newsboys, Breakfast

All News All The Time

Reading cnn.com will turn your brain to mush.

This is not in-depth reporting. This is not even pertinent information. A list of facts is not a news article, conclusions must be drawn, patterns recognized.

Worse, it is poorly written, and there are no photographs or illustrations. The national news media plays to too wide an audience. Trim down, focus, report on news closer to home. Establish more powerful regional departments.

Headlines. Pertinent facts. Powerful quotes, and stong, engaging photos. Conclusions, condemnations, editorials. This is news.

Bring it back.
-t
recommended downloads:
Mason Jennings, Darkness Between Fireflies, and Sorry Signs On Cash Machines

Bedhead

So, you know what? It's fine. I was clearly overreacting, or late-reacting, or reacting in some way that wasn't quite right.

Then, I got a good night's sleep, and this morning, I'm totally fine. I feel like I did get over this whole thing months ago. A mere blip on the radar, a nothing. If she wants to go do what she does, that's fine. It does not affect me in any way. I have friends, I do things, I do not center on whatever the pretty girl decides to do. She is peripheral at best. I have recovered.

Onward. Upward. Movie-ward.

Yes, movie-ward. Because, audience, I am going to meet a creepy internet stalker in person. Go me. (Actually, this will be the second creepy internet stalker I've met in person, the first, you may recall, lives in texas and invited me to a baseball game, and was in fact, not creepy, not a stalker, and not an internet). Anyway. This meeting will be taking place on the morrow, at a movie theater, and the creepy internet stalker decreed that we bring friends so it's not too awkward or weird and we will have body shields (thanks friends) in case anything goes horribly horribly wrong, like, I don't know, spontaneous combustion or something.

We'll see how it goes. :-Þ

-t
recommended downloads:
Veggie Tales, His Cheeseburger
Bush, Machinehead
and
Howie Day, Disco Afternoon

Overshadowed

Augh! There's another Ender book.

I didn't even know.
Ender's Game, Ender's Shadow
Speaker for the Dead, Xenocide, Children of the Mind
Shadow of the Hegemon, Shadow Puppets

and now Shadow of the Giant. I didn't know!

This is worse than trade paperbacks.
So now I have to go get the second book of this series I'm reading now (Clash of Kings, an eight hundred page monster in what I thought was a trilogy, but is in fact and unfinished series...), the first in the Wheel of Time series which is being touted as the greatest thing since sliced bread (and also unfinished...), and the new OSC.

nuts. it's crazy I tell ya. just crazy.

and I'm just batty enough to do it.

-T
recommended download:
We Both Reached For the Gun (Chicago Soundtrack)

Little by little

So, you know, that first semester of your junior year, when you were totally crushing on that guy in your psych 101 class? And you went up to him, finally, after the second week and told him about the party you were having and asked if he wanted to come? And when he said "yeah, that sounds cool" but then he ended up not coming, and then wasn't in class for two days? and then you found out it was because he was seeing that girl from the class, you know, the short girl with the dark hair and the kind of messed up teeth? She isn't even that smart. But you saw her before class that one time pull his boxer shorts out of her purse and give them back to him. Augh! And you couldn't believe it. How could he be seeing that girl? And it's not like you were worshiping him from afar, I mean, you asked him out. And he picked her over you? How is that fair? How does that even make sense? But whatever. Fine. You know what, other fish in the sea. He'll never know what he missed out on. Because you're over him. By like, just after midterms that cute guy in your earth science class had asked you out. You don't even think about psych boy anymore.

But you know what would have sucked? If you were crushing on psych boy for weeks. Then finally asked him out, and he said yes but didn't go out with you, and then you found out he might be seeing someone. Then, weeks later you found out it was that girl with the funny teeth. Then a week later you saw the boxer shorts and realized they're more than just dating, and at this point the whole semester's gone by while you thought this guy might be available just shy or something. But to drag it out like that? It was like, you were never over him. Better to just get it all out of the way at once, and just move on.

Little by little will get you there, but slower than it should. Like that time the Old Spice oaf walked into the office carrying her purse because she left it at his place this morning. Should have been over months ago.

-Tom
recommended download:
Oasis, Little By Little

Long lunch

So today, being busy, I decided to eat lunch at my desk (where normally I would skip out for an hour, maybe an hour fifteen). I ran over to subway, grabbed a drink at 7-11, came back and sat down.

It took me an hour and twenty minutes to eat my turkey club.

Mostly this is because I did not (and probably never will) say "not now, I'm eating" or "can this wait ten minutes?" or "back off! can't you see I'm on my break!" No. None of those things were said. When Buster asked about a trade not tying out, when Collin asked about a program he had to run, when hypermanager said "hey, got five minutes?" for the third time, those things were not said.

Because I'm a pushover? No.
Because I can't say no? No. (ha! see? just said it.)
Because I'm a nice guy? Yeah, sort of.

I know when I've got a problem or a question I don't like being blown off or told to wait, even though, when that happens I understand. So, I'm not going to tell people to wait. I would hate to be the cause of (or excuse for) negative feelings. Can't we all just get along?

Anyway, the point is, it was a loooong lunch. I'm glad I got the turkey sub and not the cheeseburger sub. That would have tasted terrible cold.

-T
recommended downloads
The Folksmen, Blood On The Coal (A Mighty Wind Soundtrack)

So this is work

Hey! So, somebody congratulate me, or hand me a cigar or buy me a drink or something! I worked today!

It was incredible, it was exciting, it was new. For the first time I can remember I didn't have time to slack off. I sat down at my desk at ten o'clock, and I was busy right up until now! That's two hours of solid work. It goes hand in hand with my promotion, more money, more responsibility, and (here's the part I wasn't expecting) no more down time!

This may be a blow for some of you. I'm sorry I can't do more to lessen the shock. It is possible that I may only update this page once a day, if at all, from work. It may also mean that my AIM time will be drastically cut down (not that many of you care/talk to me/or are even online while at work).

But that's not really what I want to talk about. What I'd really like to talk about is the very pretty girl* who I asked out once six months ago who said yes but we never went on a date so later on in April at an office drinking-fest I got drunk and asked her out again and this time she said "oh, I have a boyfriend now" at which I got pissed and stormed off only to start suspecting that her "boyfriend" was in fact the manager who used to work near my group and would douse (douse) himself in Old Spice whenever he went over to talk to her which is where I've been for three months now, silently suspecting that manager and the prettiest girl in the office are an item.

That sentence is probably not grammatically correct. However, please note all the words used to construct that sentence are spelled correctly... Onward:

Today, as part of my new job-related responsibilities I am required to use the Bloomberg terminal which is located close to the pretty girl's desk. It was there I witnessed an exchange between the pretty girl...and that stupid manager I hate. It appears they are, in fact, an item. And I am practically beside myself with frustration. Because he's gotta be like thirty. Because he's an oaf. Because she's dating him, and not me. I would still have a problem even if her boyfriend was a Brad Pitt clone who had inherited a billion dollars and worked selflessly for kids' charities and who was otherwise perfect. That, though, I could justify, or maybe make peace with, or grudgingly learn to accept. BUT THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE THAN THAT.

Man I hate that guy. And her, for you know, going out with him. I am slowly getting over this. It's not like I ever had a real shot. All I'm saying was, dinner would have been nice. Stupid girls. Well, no. Stupid oafish manager. Gah.

-T
recommended downloads:
Bowling For Soup, Emily
Sugarcult, She's The Blade

*the pretty girl sits near the printers, not to be confused with cute girl, who, sadly, is still getting married (not to me).

A thin line between...

So parts of the brain work together to perform complex tasks. Giving directions for example, just to start you've got memory, planning, timing, and speech, plus other stuff. Holding conversations is another one, you've got to talk, listen, think about what you're saying, remember what the other person is saying, and then when the other person is a hot coed you've got the added pressure of not only talking, but making sense and being funny. It can get complicated.

I bring it up because I'm pretty sure there is only a thin line holding the different parts of my brain together. Just a string, looping the temporal lobe to the speech center to impulse control and what have you. I'd guess this has always been the case, though I've only just recognized some symptoms: I don't hold what you would call "normal" conversations.

I'd guess it's the speech center and impulse control mostly, paired with a very influencial imagination. I get to talking, and that part of the brain that's supposed to monitor what's going on (the concious part) sort of shuts down, or takes some time off, and I just keep talking.

No doubt these conversations are entertaining, they are certainly long-winded, they are almost never coherent, factual, and nearly always irrelevant. I'm not even aware of what's being said as it's being said, but maybe there is a little bit of my brain paying attention, because every so often I reach back into the conversation and draw a parallel, or a bad pun, or a reference to something I said fifteen uninterrupted minutes ago.

This inattention may be compounded when talking online, especially through AIM. I'm pretty sure the muscle memory of my fingers just form words and sentences on their own bypassing the brain completely, and really that doesn't bother me as long as the words are spelled correctly.

So here's to taking a little brain vacation whenever possible. Cheers.
-Tom
recommended downloads:
The Old 97's, Melt Show
and
Cake, Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

A closed-door meeting

I'm writing to deliver some sobering news. Yesterday about three o'clock I was asked to meet with my three managers in a closed-door session in the small conference room. They sat me down and quietly explained that I am being promoted.

BAM! Sobering news my ass! wooo! -mini wave in celebration of me! a-woohoo-

It was a closed-door meeting because they haven't told the others in the group yet. There is the matter of the senior who's leaving, the matter of the three other people who applied for the job and didn't get it, and the matter of the other senior never talking. (ok, that last one isn't really relevant, but come on, she never talks. quiet as a titmouse. (hehehehe)).

The point is, the Dutch girl picked me. No, no. The point is, I got a promotion and more money.

BECAUSE I DO NOTHING ALL DAY. Bwahahahaha

I do not envy any of you your jobs or your workloads. Or your non-promotions. This is great. I'm going to make little hats. Little hats that say things like "hey, coworker, I got promoted." and "I must have mo' problems, because I've got mo' money" and one that says "BAM!"

I am so going to get fired.


-T
recommended downloads:
Arlo Guthrie, Alice's Resturant
The Clash, I Fought The Law
and Hootie and the Blowfish, I Only Wanna Be With You

Death of a Post

Listen, the last thing I need is to start worrying about my audience. But, inevitabley (it seems), once I discovered I had and audience I started worrying about them.

Now I can't even post without thinking about what they'll think.

note to self: STOP WRITING FOR YOUR READERS

Readers, I blame you. If you weren't there, I wouldn't be writing for you. (On the other hand, if you weren't there I wouldn't be writing at all, since, as I may have mentioned before, all I've ever wanted was an audience).

We are at a classic impasse. You could stop reading, thus depriving me of the audience, thus encouraging a return to my base literary style; I could ignore you, but really I can't because that hasn't been working; or I could just continue to post crappy little diatribes about crap I don't even care about, which wouldn't be funny, and probably wouldn't be anything but boring. I doubt' they'd even be long and boring, I'd be so apathetic they'd probably be short and boring.

Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I don't really blame you readers. It's not your fault you stumbled across this web log in the first place. It's not like I'm out there on the street corner with a giant placard ringing a bell and shouting "http://a20261.blogspot.com" And of course it isn't the nature of the posts that keep you reading, it's the nature of your jobs (boring, difficult, monotonous) and your need for distraction (big, bigger, biggest). Can I blame you for that? No, of course not. It was my job being so boring that got this whole journal thing started in the first place.

It's me, really. I've just hit a rut, a creative quagmire. I wrote some posts, then put up some links, then a photo or two (btw, my haircut still looks gorgeous), and then BAM. Nothing. I started a downward slide toward mediocrity.

So, really, this is an apology. I'm sorry readers, faithful audience, friends, romans, countrymen. I'm sorry parents, teachers, managers, coworkers, members of the custodial staff; acquaintences, comrades, compadres; I'm sorry to you lovers, fighters, allies, enemies; to you democrats and republicans. I apologize to you new englanders, philadelphians, texans (even those who aren't originally from texas), globetrotters, stay-at-homers, and mr. moms. I'm sorry, entire population of the Indian subcontinent. I'm sorry, Portugal. I'm sorry France -- No. No, I'm not sorry France. France, you can shove it. Go ahead and whine. "Boohoo, Lance has six Tour de France victories, boohoo, he must be on steroids." Yeah. Keep trying to prove it. Can't do it, can you? No. Because he's clean, he's not on drugs, he just happens to be the greatest thing on two wheels the world has ever seen. (Except for that one time, on the highway, when I tried passing a guy in the breakdown lane but there was a broken down car there (go figure) and had to swerve back into the right lane but took the turn too fast and ended up on only two wheels doing about 65 mph. That was pretty awesome). Oh, and you know what? Portugal can suck it too. I rescind my apology.

Blame it on the all-star break and Johnny Damon talking ALL THE DAMN TIME. We need to start playing some more baseball. (oh, and speaking of the all-star break, every active player in our wiffleball league was elected to our wiffleball all-star game. (so really it was like any other game of wiffleball we play, we just called it the all-star game. and also we made a rule that you had to dive to catch every ball hit near you the whole time, even if it was unnecessary.))

Ramblingly,
-Tom

recommended downloads:
Cake, Sheep Go To Heaven
Everclear, Like A California King
Citizen Cope & Santana, Son's Gonna Rise

Baby, lay down your arms...

A case for the iPod. Never-opened Star Wars figurines. Display case for Joe Montana autographed football.

These are all things I don't have. I don't buy things to protect stuff. I find it ridiculous. I bought the iPod to use it, not to save it forever untouched by human hands, unmolested, pristine, clean, and white. No, I'm going to drive it into the ground. I'm going to play the hell out of my music, whenever, wherever I can.

Collectibles? The word means nothing to me. Toys are meant to be played with, footballs are meant to be thrown, caught, kicked, and generally roughed up. I find no joy in sterilized objects set apart, encased. The joy is in using them for their intended purpose.

Utility is a necessity. I've destroyed something like seven watches since I started wearing them in eighth grade. I've never had a fancy watch. I need watches with scratch-resistant glass or plastic faces. I need watches with canvas bands, or tough, durable leather bands. I don't lead a rough life, I lead an unconcerned life. The watch is there for the time, and otherwise it's ignored. My watches get bumped, scraped, crushed and worse in the course of a day.

This is why I can't have nice things. I've recognized, though, that nice things won't last, and so neither does my desire for them. Well-built is more important than "cool looking." Well-engineered is more important than expensive (though very often they go hand-in-hand).

Book bindings should be creased. Pages should be dog-eared. Hat brims should be bent; jeans ripped and faded; shoes should be muddy; clothes should be worn until they are worn out. You shouldn't go through life without any scars.

-Tom
recommended downloads
Pearl Jam, Love Boat Captain, Brain of J. and Soldier of Love

Clearly I was not asked to participate in this survey...

Everybody check out today's Gawker headline about slacking off at work!

2.4 hours, HA!

well, it's for the best, my data just would have skewed the results.
man, I don't even work for 2.4 hours a day.

peace out,
-T

recommended download:
Alabama, I'm In A Hurry (To Get Things Done)

If you thought last tuesday was bad...

I'm tired and I can't write.

This is the seventh post I've started today. The first six were terrible. I deleted them. This, the seventh, is progress.

Books: I have purchased more books since January than I have read since last January. Last week they were of the trade paperback variety, this week I decided to round out some science fiction collections. I now own:
Isaac Asimov, The Foundation Series (seven novels)
Frank Herbert, The Dune Chronicles (six novels)
Orson Scott Card, The Ender Quartet and The Shadow Triology (seven novels)

That's a lot of science fiction. But it's not surprising, because I've always enjoyed science fiction. I mean, really, my literary taste goes sort of like this:
hand me any book, 70% chance I'll like it
hand me any detective novel, 85% chance I'll like it
any science fiction - 87.5% chance I'll like it

So there you go. Books are cool. And now I have a lot of them.

It would be really great if they let me read at work.

-T
recommended download:
Ozma, Domino Effect

17 syllables

I stole this idea
Write a brand new haiku
Winner gets dinner (maybe)

There are a few rules
All haiku forms are O.K.
Funny or somber

Get ready, set, go
Contest ends when I say so
Have good luck, poets

-t
recommended downloads:
Arlo Guthrie, Alice's Resturant

The Teeth of the Tiger

I just finished rereading Tom Clancy's The Teeth of the Tiger it's his best in a while.

In order, my top three favorite Clancy novels:
1. The Sum of All Fears (do not watch the movie ever)
2. The Cardinal of the Kremlin
3. Red Rabbit

-t

Dudes! Check me out!

Sweet man. You can totally Google me. (I love how that sounds just a little bit dirty).

Try it! "a20261" and BAM there I am.

The internet is a wonderful tool (for slacking off at work ;)


-Tom
recommended download:
Bob Schneider, The World Goes Around

So, I guess, you know, if you choose to look at it that way, technically, it's cheating...

So I have an interview. Here. Right here in this building, for this company, for this group. Not for this position though, I already have this position. The interview is for a BRAND NEW position. (please keep in mind that in this instance "new position" really means "same money, more work," but it's not like I'm killing myself to get all my work done now, right?)

BRAND NEW position. The first interview will be with my senior manager. Then an interview each with the two lesser managers. A three-part interview.

The breakdown:
1. Part One, Senior Manager - piece of cake. he's the one that recommended I apply.
2. Part Two, the less-senior of the lesser managers - he's only been here two weeks, unless I punch him in the face I don't see this hampering my chances.
3. Part Three, hype-coffee manager - See, he's hyper. He's "detail-oriented." He's nuts. And I just so happen to know that he has a prepared quiz he gives all candidates for this position. And, and this is where it gets technical, I happen to know where the quiz (and answers) are saved on the network.

So of course I'm going to print them out and review them before the interview! I mean, if I didn't, that would be like, that would be like not taking free money from a wallet that just fell out of someone's pocket! or, like ordering dinner at a resturant and then not taking off when the waitress takes too long to bring the check! of course I'm going to review the questions, and of course I'm going to memorize the answers.

Come on. Is it my fault that he stores everything in the same folder on the network, not only the spreadsheets we need to do our job, but also pictures of his dog and his family reunion? Is it my fault the document in question is labeled "Quiz_and_AnswerKey_for_SeniorPosition.doc"? I mean really? If you were hiring someone, wouldn't you want to hire that someone resourceful enough to find that quiz? or smart enough to recognize its value? I know I would.

On the other hand, I may want to hire them, but I'd also want to keep them away from my wallet.

Good luck to me.
-Tom

recommended download:
Bob Schneider, The World Goes Around
and
Led Zepplin, Fool In The Rain

I wanted to quit

I'd been back five minutes, maybe. Already I wanted to quit, to just walk away.

I sat down to find funds haphazardly scattered around my desk. Gershwin came over to tell me I had two budgets due tomorrow afternoon. Three outlook alerts popped up once my computer started, a meeting with management, a report that needs to be run every tuesday, and a program I run that should also have been run tuesday. Oh, also, one hundred sixty-three messages in my inbox since friday. Two of them relevant.

But then...

But then the PA on one of my tax-free's came over with a problem. A trade booked wrong, an incorrect date, and wrong income. I went right into problem-solving mode. It didn't even occur to me until just now that I had stopped thinking about quitting. Fifteen minutes, we figured out what was wrong, figured out how to fix it, and fixed it, and in doing so redirected my wanderlust.

What can I say? I like solving problems.

-Tom
recommended downloads:
R.E.M. - It's The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
and
Rod Stewart, Someone Like You

Day Five (Tuesday)

Ok, so, ALL DAY TRAVELLING....

Drive for four hours from Austin to For Worth. Barely make it to the airport on time. Then the flight was delayed. Spend forever on the plane, drifting in and out of consciousness. Barely, baaarely, make the connecting flight in Charlotte. Come back home to Boston. Go Red Sox.

Oh, and after being in Texas for the best part of five days, I'm totally getting a truck.

-Tom
recommended download:
Bob Schneider, I'm Good Now, The Way Life Is Supposed To Be, God Is My Friend
Arlo Guthrie, Alice's Resturant

Day Four (Monday)

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY

Something something DAMN IT IS SO HOT HERE IN TEXAS something something drive forever to get barbecue at the Salt Lick. No, seriously, forever. The directions are "take this road until it ends. turn left. then just keep driving, and you'll think you're in the middle of nowhere - and you are - and then just keep driving, and it's on the right." Good bbq. Then some bars, and Foulke blew another save and fireworks and swimming in the pool and some cuddling (details not to follow).

WOOO INDEPENDENCE!

-Tom

Day Three (Sunday)

I didn't know it was Sunday. Generally when I wake up I ask myself "do I have to work today?" and if the answer is "no" then I just stop thinking for the rest of the day right there.

This is why I didn't know it was Sunday. We did something, I'm sure eating was involved. I enjoyed myself. And John gave a tour of the Austin state house, which was one of the highlights of the trip.

-Tom
recommended download:
Morcheeba, Ten Men
and
Third Eye Blind, Never Let You Go

Day Two (Saturday)

A lovely lunch with John's parents. They are delightful, as was expected.

Then a lazy day of sitting at the apartment, swimming in the pool, and John playing downloaded versions of Civilization (the first one), and Indiana Jones (the Atlantis one). That took up most of the afternoon.

Tomorrow, up bright and very early for the long drive to Austin. Woooo.

Back again when I can ;)

-Tom

recommended download:
Christian Bale, Santa Fe (Newsies Soundtrack)

Night One (Friday)

Picked up from the airport (right on time, really). After a good lunch and some libations we then spent the afternoon chillin' in the apt. watching Harry Potter movies. It was decided to meet up with and old high school friend of my host and travelling companion and her new husband (howdy hs friend and husband).

We first ate at a nice tex/mex/salvadoran resturant. The food was very good, the conversation was even better. The three hs kids compared gossip on former classmates, the husband and I contributed with thoughtful, poignant, and humorous insights. I had a marvellous time.

The night proceeded with a trip to a local drinking establishment. Waiting in an unanticipated line to get in the girls were hit on by drunk men on the patio, and after running that gauntlet, we got in, past two very polite bouncers who let us come and go as we pleased (and as the circumstances demanded) throughout the night.

So we drank.

Everybody ordered whatever they had had at the resturant, then we did some shots, then someone ordered a round of Irish car-bombs. I don't know how it happened, but one of our party got very way too much drunk. I ended up drinking their car-bomb too, which yes, put me very close to the edge.

But the friend? The one of our party who drank too much? Not so lucky. That one crossed over the line. And after half an hour of sitting miserably in the bar, looking at a drink that could not be finished that person admitted to feeling nothing but a slight tingling in their extremities.

So I walked [read: carried] that person [read: dead weight] to the parking lot.
Where said person proceeded to spew alcohol, dinner, guts, and the kitchen sink all over the nicely kept grass. Oh well. (this is where the nice bouncers let me walk unmolested in and out of the bar to retrieve napkins, water, and the like...I don't know if you're reading, but thanks guys.)

The one recovered. I paid the tab. The group retired for the night.


And who knows what tomorrow will bring.

-Tom
recommended download: Lemonstone, Loss For Words