So I was really bummed that I couldn’t make the last tweetup in Chicago. Looks like there’s gonna be another one in a few months. This one, I refuse to miss. ‘cept, I’ll probably be flying out stag. So..
If I cruise to Chicago by myself and meet up with everyone, will you guys like, you know, hang out and talk and drink with me and stuff? I’ll bring lots and lots of money, and get a really big room if anyone needs a place to crash :-)
Hey! A question!
Where would I go? easy. Anywhere tropical. I grew up in NY. When I was 14, my Mom drove my sis and I down to Florida to visit my recently retired grandparents. I’d never been down south before, so to me it was paradise. A densely populated area with an overwhelming majority of old people, but paradise nonetheless. I quickly met the wrong crowd and spent the summer partying on the beach, going to keggers at great outdoor spots in the woods, and smoking *stuff* in between classes (one condition of me going on vacation was that I had to go to summer school. As you can tell, I was sort of a bad kid)
When the summer ended, I told my Mom to take my sis home, and that I was staying with Nanny and Pop. Mom and Kel went, and I stayed. Many adventures and around seven or so years later, I moved back to NY to begin my life.
So how does this fit in with the original question? because I spent some of my formative years in the sun. Some of the best (and worst) times of my life were spent within a few minutes of salt water beaches, palm trees, and an abundance of women in bikinis. I’d spend my air miles chasing those memories. Bahamas, Cayman Islands, Seychelles, Maldives, anywhere where the sky is as blue as the water, where drinks are served to you with little umbrellas, and where inhibitions are left home.
Anyone on board?
I’m totally in a Crystal Method groove. Specifically, the albums Vegas and Legion of Boom.
I’m letting you all know this because really like you guys. I’m also really sick of seeing the animated gif of the Cat flinging a mouse in the air with a spoon every time I go to my Tumblr account homepage.
where the fuck is my coffee
I hope that’s just a rash.
Two steps forward, one step back.
I hope I’m doing this right.
I’m wildly self conscious and can be painfully shy.
When I’m in a room full of new people, my first instinct is to turn on the wit and charm. I may come across as funny. Or I may come across as an asshole. It all depends on how hard I’m trying. You see, while I’m trying really hard to make people laugh, I’m all too aware of how that guy over there has more hair than I do. Or how that guy in the corner has an good body and isn’t fat like I am. Or how that amazing brunette would never be caught dead talking to a guy like me. As I’m wildly gesturing, animating to comedic effect the story I’m telling, I’m looking for any sign of your like or dislike of me. And I’m making entirely too big a deal of the fact that you just yawned, or looked away for a second. Or looked at your watch. And as I get to the punch line of my story, I’m already making up an excuse to get away so that I don’t wear out my welcome.
Once I get away I’m going over my performance. Was I funny? Did anyone make eye contact with me? Were those real laughs or polite “gotta get the fuck outta here” laughs? and then, depending on what I tell myself, I spend the rest of the evening alone, purposely distancing myself. If nobody comes up to me I’ll find a reason to leave, and then I’m beating myself up on the way home.
Of course, this is not all of the time. Sometimes I’m genuinely witty and charming, and I feel good about myself. Then I look at that amazing brunette and think to myself, I’m going to go talk to her next.
Would anyone be interested in coming?
Show of hands.
I am absolutely there.
Nothing like getting right off the plane and being told people thought I was rude and unwelcome this past weekend, and now they’re out to get me.
I know it’s just that I’m emotionally exhausted, from all the travel and hustle and bustle and trying, really honestly trying, to be gregarious and social and conscientious and polite, but I’m so profoundly disheartened.
There can’t be anything more pathetic than crying alone in an airport bathroom.
I wasn’t lucky enough to be there, but I monitored #chsh. You were happy and loved by all. Don’t let anyone fuck with you. You’re awesome.
I actually had to go into the bank today and speak to a real live teller in order to deposit some checks. Now, I normally do all of my banking at the ATM, but I had questions. So for the first time in over a year, I entered the branch near my office, found my place in line, and waited with about six other people. I fired up Tweetie on my iPhone to kill time.
When it was my turn, I took two steps forward to the teller when a woman jumped ahead of me. Before I had the chance to speak to her, a guy at the end of the line began screaming so loudly that the security guard put his hand on his gun (but still stood there, doing nothing). I was shocked at not only at this guys attitude, but his mastery of the English language as he preceded to use the word “Fuck” in virtually every syntactic role of the sentence:
“What the Fuck! (Interjection) Who is this Fuck who’s cutting in line?!? (Noun) I think she needs to Fucking (Adverb) walk back to the fucking (Adjective) end of the Line! You believe this shit? Fucker cut in line! (Pronoun). Fuck Off (Verb) Lady!”
The woman and the teller were horrified. She quickly scampered away. I then took my rightful place at the Teller window, happy to be next but sighing at how New Yorkers reinforce stereotypes.
Incidentally, on my way out I realized that the guy was wearing a New York Stock Exchange badge, and that he was withdrawing money. He may have been just been being a dick, or he may have just became aware of another financial apocalypse.
I should have gotten back online and withdrew my cash after him. Fuck.
In the middle of May of last year, I thought I lost a man I had been talking to online for over a year in a very bad car accident.
It’s been a year since then, and through adding bits and pieces up together that didn’t make sense, I’ve come to the realization that @redgita was actually pretending to be this man all along.
I would suggest that if she still sticks around, you block her.
OMG OMG WHAT????? I just logged in for the first time today. I am shocked. Seriously and sickenly shocked. I am so so so sorry this has happened to you. :(
Well, that explains my mysterious user deletion today. That sucks and I’m sorry. Fucking Internet trolls.
This morning I woke up exhausted after working two 16 hour days. I went through my normal morning routine; jumped in the car, then got on the train to work. All through my commute, I had a nagging suspicion that I forgot something. Off the train, through Grand Central, on the subway. Something just didn’t feel right. Then, with the help of the nice lady on the subway, I realized what I had forgotten.
I was standing. She was sitting next to me. Everything was fine, until, with nary a sideways glance, she began to pick her nose. Not scratch it. Not a quick rub. Not even a surreptitious poke. No, she stuck her finger way up her nose and proceeded to dig hard and deep. As I watched her in horror, my mind started to automatically run down the things that gross me out. People who pick their nose in public. Bad breath. People who make noise when they eat. People who smell OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO PUT ON DEODERANT.
Luckily, I keep some in my desk drawer. I got to the office, split to the bathroom and refreshed my pits. After all, I can be tired and zombie like, but that’s no reason to be uncivilized and smelly.
A. I don’t exercise as much as I should
B. I have a glandular problem
C. I apply mayonnaise on sandwiches as a painter would apply the color blue to represent the sky
Think hard before you answer this one, Tumbletopians. Extra credit will be applied to the right answer.
Yes, I know that LOTR is on tonight, but I just discovered that Netflix streaming service has all six episodes the Monty Python documentary that was just on IFC a few months ago; Monty Python: Almost the Truth. If I may borrow from Cloudya, *squee!*
So you can all chase a magic ring. I’m doing something completely different.