Those were the best days of my life

I’m meeting an old friend this Friday for a couple of drinks and a little what the hell have you been up to catch-up.  I’m a big fan of Jen, but I think she is perpetually stuck in Peter Pan syndrome.  She graduated from WSU in 2000 (the same year I did), and is one of the few people I know that has been with the same company the entire time she has been out of school.  I have no idea how much she makes, but I’m sure she’s doing okay after 10 years of faithful service.  Okay so there’s the background.

We were chatting about this Friday and possible plans when she intimated that unless I was buying, it would have to be just drinks at one of our places.  This was not (as you may be thinking) in any way a ruse to get me alone – or get me to buy drinks. She is totally broke until payday; which is actually this Friday, but she thought was the 1st.  She checked her account as we were chatting, and without an ounce of sheepishness stated, “ wow, I have $6.31 to my name I thought it was more like $11.00.”  I’m not one to judge, and I have no idea what circumstance created this, but it got me thinking about the last time I was that broke.

When I first finished college I was very very much in said Peter Pan mode.  I spent my first two years after graduation working as a Personal Trainer at 24 Hour Fitness.  My life at this point was a lot closer to the “Jersey Shore” than that of a young professional.  We went out to clubs three times a week, we lifted weights and tanned every single day, and we spent all of our money on formfitting club gear.  This however was not a substantial amount of money, and we became really apt at hitting the sales and finding bargains.  I don’t remember exactly how much I made, but it was probably less than a $1000 a month.  I was able to live on this because I had almost no expenses.  I lived at my friends house, which his parents had given to him when they bought a new one, free of rent.  It was also free of heat, double pain windows, a dishwasher and hot water.  It was a lot like camping, especially in the winter months when I slept in a hoodie and a mummy bag.  I showered at the gym, lived on Taco Bell and employee discounted protein supplements.  I had no car payments (drove the old Mazda I’d had since high school), and I’m pretty sure my dad paid my insurance (or maybe I didn’t have it for awhile – I don’t remember).  I do remember that I went about six months without a drivers license, because I didn’t pay to have it renewed.  I think the only reason I finally renewed it was because certain clubs wouldn’t let me in with an expired ID.

So how could you afford to go out three times a week?  Well we became very apt at doing that on the cheap also.  One of us was almost always dating a waitress or bartender at ‘the hot club’, which took care of the cover charge, and usually made it very cheap to drink.  On nights that we didn’t have a hookup, we would spend the first hour sitting in the car (parked somewhere in Belltown or Pioneer Square) listening to music and drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonades (high in alcohol and easy to pound).  Then we would go to a club that had after hours about 15 minutes prior to last call.  Usually clubs raised their prices for after hours, because they didn’t have the alcohol revenue, and drunk horny dudes were eager to keep the party going.  This allowed us to precede the lines and pay a reduced cover charge.  We would buy one Corona, grab a recently vacated seat, and wait for the hordes and hordes of drunk/tripping girls to flood in.  I’m pretty sure my parents were proud at that point that they had paid for my education.

It’s not fair to say BRB and then never actually BRB

In accordance with my unscheduled and admittedly unwanted quest towards Hank Moody-dom (read: downward spiral towards booze and bitches); I went out for a second consecutive Monday evening.  I traded in my supper for a post-gym protein shake, and then several beers at two different locales.

Now for those of you who are thinking, “Rick drinking by yourself on a Monday night is pathetic, and really kind of sad.”  I say to you – yep… but it’s still slightly preferable to sitting at home and feeling  pathetic and sad.  Besides, the cast of characters that partake on Mondays is a sight you have to behold (especially in Ballard).  Going out on Mondays is a little like going to a free-clinic to be treated for a hang nail.  You’re slightly ashamed to be there, but still know you’re better off than anyone else.

Lost no, disappointed yes.

I fully realize it was nearly impossible to live up to the magnanimous build up, but the end solution sucked. It was exactly the most obvious explanation all along. I’ll leave it at that for all of you Netflix season at a timers.

Boo.

The more you know

If the movie your about to watch has a preview for this "movie":

It’s probably not going to be a very good film.

And this is why zombies are going to take over the world.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=127010591

 

- by the way Zombieland was an awesome movie.

Just another manic Wednesday

This has to have been one of the worst days I can remember having, largely because I block out the bad ones. Unbelievable it was.  Disclaimer: nobody was hurt, killed, or fired and the sun will still shine in the morning (unless it’s raining). 

My phone began ringing at 6:00 am with driver problems and truly did not stop till nine this evening.  This is not hyperbole, as of 3:00 pm I had well over 100 calls on today’s call log (quick math: averaging 3 minutes per call x 100 calls = 5 hours on the phone).  Making the work day more difficult, my laptop decided to take the day off and just not work.  After restarting several times with no improvement, I realized it wasn’t just Windows being Windows; and something more serious was going on.  Looking at the task manager performance tab, I realized my processors were running continuously at 100% while the laptop was at idle (this is not a good thing).  While trying to get my work computer useable, I was doing as much of my work as was possible using my home PC.  Until… I decided to restart my wireless router, thinking that could have been the cause of my laptop’s unholy possession.  This did not fix my laptop, but it did stop my home PC from being able to connect to the internet (I have a fancy but very fickle router).  So at three in the afternoon, I was dead in the water and had time sensitive work that needed to be completed SOON.  Being the dedicated worker that I am, I got in my car and drove IN TRAFFIC for over an hour to the office.  I figured if my laptop wouldn’t work, I could at least use someone else’s computer (everyone else had already left the office for the day).  Of course it worked just fine as soon as I got to the office. 

Once at the office, I had to go online to buy Idaho trip permits for two drivers who were leaving tonight for Jerome, ID.  Midway through filling out the online form I realized I was missing information and had to go out to the yard (where the trucks park) to obtain the VIN number for one of the trailers.  This was when the monsoon began: gusting winds bending trees sideways, voluminous rain intermittently mixed with hail whipping against my flesh, and completely drenching my white polo to translucent in less than a minute.  No big deal I thought, “you just have to run out to that trailer, then you can go right back in and dry off… maybe make yourself some hot cocoa for the effort”.  Well the door to the office locked behind me, creating a chasm between me, my dry office, and more importantly my laptop, my wallet, my clipboard and my keys.  Did I mention this was 4:45 pm, and the freezing-cold tropical storm had caused a smattering of traffic accidents all along any route I could conceivably take to get someone else’s keys. 

My only redemption was that I keep a spare car key inside my car, which has the key to my front door on it (due to a previous lesson learned experience).  So I cut my losses – at substantial – had my boss complete the forms (at least I had the VIN number now), and drove home for over two hours in the worst traffic I have ever seen.

There’s kind of a funny part two to this story of wah…  coming soon.

Countdown to what will I watch on Tuesday night

Mathew Fox, the only relevant celebrity who shares my birthday (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/July_14) is about to culminate his six year run as Jack Shephard in one of the smartest and most extravagant shows ever created.  I find myself more than a little sad that “all will be revealed” in only five days (Sunday series finale). 

Everything has tied together really well and I’ll probably never know if the writers got a little lucky, or are really that good.

It’s hard to shake that feeling of what now, with this amazing enigma finally resolving itself in less than a week.  That feeling is equatable to finishing a really good book (usually a longer one); almost akin to losing a friend.  “Almost” may be a little strong in that analogy.

Because I don’t want to talk about it – seriously!

This is a graphic interpretation of what I believe occurred:

As I’ve previously regurgitated, “Attraction isn’t a choice.” Attraction doesn’t come from a position of logic, it’s driven by emotion and the harder we try to combat this; the more obvious it becomes.

Now please let this go.