This past weekend was, in a word, surreal.
SNARK was my first tweetup. I’ve read about them, and have been jealous of others who’ve attended them. However, when Michelle started organizing a get together in NYC, I started to get a bit nervous. After all, it’s one thing to be witty and charming sitting in my living room, hiding behind a computer screen. It’s quite another to be in a room full of (semi) strangers and mingle. I knew I had to do this.
I’m glad I made the effort. I can’t begin to express how great this weekend was. I met some truly amazing people, and was happy to discover that people I knew online are more insanely cool in person. I discovered that you guys are not only text posts and static pictures, but real people who I really like to be around. I considered you guys friends before the meet; now, you guys are friends and drinking buddies!
Random thoughts -
I was absolutely floored to be recognized before I grabbed my name tag. I’m never, ever changing my avatar.
All of the ladies are even hotter in person.
I love that fact that most of us like to drink. I feel even more a kinship with you guys because of this.
The bar was a perfect place to meet. Case in point? the back bar was one stop shopping for checking coats, getting booze, and the purchasing of sex toys.
I had the most amazing Saturday afternoon. Period.
All in all, an incredible weekend. I’ll post some pictures of my first tweetup soon. I suspect I’ll be attending more of these.
Thanks to Michelle and Chris for organizing an amazing weekend.
I I have lots to say about how incredibly awesome SNARK was this weekend, and in the next day or two I’ll be posting pics and providing sappy commentary on how much I love you guys, yadda yadda. However, first I have to share this. Yes, this is completely true:
So last night after the festivities I found myself in front of my hotel room, drunk, tired, and generally needing sleep. I was smoking a butt (I only smoke when I drink.. and boy, did I drink). I was listening to my iPod and looking at the Twitter stream on my iPhone. This being NYC, there was still a good number of people walking about around 3:00 AM. A man walked up to me and asked me something. Since I had my headphones on, I couldn’t hear him. He didn’t look homeless, so I was guessing he wanted to bum a smoke or something. I took the headphones out of my ear and asked him what was up.
He told me that his phone wasn’t working, and that he really needed to look up a phone number. He offered me $20 to use the internet on my phone. Now, two things I noticed about this guy. One, he looked to be a regular middle aged man who was dressed for a low key night on the town. The second thing is that he was very, clearly gay. I looked at him for a second and asked him, “Dude, you’re not going to run away with my phone, are you? because I’m too drunk and tired to chase you down”. to which he replied with, “Honey, I’m too old to be running away with shit”. Fair enough. I gave him my phone, told him to keep his $20 and do what he needed to do.
During the next five minutes, he asked me how to get on the internet, how to go to websites, etcetera. I was standing there, waiting for him to finish his search as I finished my smoke. This was taking a bit long, and he seemed to sense my impatience because he was constantly thanking and apologizing to me. At one point I said to him “Dude, seriously? are you looking at my info? can I help you find this number”? after another apology he found his number, copied it down into his own phone, thanks me again and disappeared into the night. I then decided to run up the street to the deli, grab a sandwich, and go back to my room to chow down before I slept.
As I sat in my room wolfing my sandwich, I looked at my phone. Apparently this guy was really truly not very tech savvy, because not only did he leave the website page open he was looking at, but the person’s number he was looking up was left on my phone. So what was this guy doing with my phone?
Ordering an escort from rentboy.com. This fucking guy used my phone to order himself up a male escort. On. My. Phone.
Now, I don’t give a shit about him being gay. But, seriously? ordering an escort from my phone? The worst part was, since I was standing in front of the Holiday Inn, I was probably using their WiFi. So, yeah. Awesome. On both Friday and Saturday nights I didn’t get back to my room until 2 or 3 in the morning, obviously drinking.
So, according to my Holiday Inn customer profile, I’m probably a closeted gay dude who lives upstate, who spends the occasional weekend in the big city getting shitfaced and calling male escorts to my room.
Man, do I love this fucking city.
I was living in Florida and still in bed, a bit hung over from a night of drinking. My mother burst into the bedroom in a panic and told me to wake up, and to come outside. Thinking this was some new form of family drama (there was lots), I slowly got up, pulled my shorts on and made my way to the front door.
The first thing that I noticed was that all of the neighbors were outside on the street, looking up. I went to my mother and asked her what was going on. With tears in her eyes, she said that the Space Shuttle blew up. I finally looked upward and saw the plumes of smoke. It was surreal; if you remember the pictures, it was a long white plume of smoke that led into a large ball of smoke, with two long streams of smoke coming from the top. I was in shock. We all stood out there silently for a while, and started shuffling in one by one when the cloud finally began to dissipate.
I finally showered, dressed and walked to my friends house. This was a time in my life when I ran with a bad crowd. We all drank, did drugs, and had little regard for anything except our own good times. When I walked into Nick’s apartment, our whole gang was there. We went onto the balcony and stared out into the sky.
My only other real memory of this is being a punk ass teenager who was moved to real, honest to goodness tears by President Reagan’s speech.
..hopefully I’ll be on a train in a little over an hour. Just called my hotel to make sure my reservation is still good. It is.
See you guys this weekend.
I watched the pilot episode of the X-Files tonight. I’ve always been into off kilter/sci-fi shows, but I never caught this one. Thanks to the Netflix, I was able to catch it. When it was over, I realized that this was a show that I could get into. The story was interesting and it really did make me believe.
I believe that X-Files era David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson are two of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen in my life.
..but honey, I’m rich on personality.
Random thoughts of truthiness, since I don’t have anything lingering on my mind..
I can’t wear a hat because I get hat head. As you can glean from this I’m also vain as I’d rather look good than be warm.
I’m a little nervous about SNARKNYC. I’ve booked a hotel for Friday and Saturday night, and I’m flying solo. I’m wondering what I’m going to do with myself for those times I’ll be alone, and I wonder if I’ll get along with everyone.
I’m sick of the snow and cold.
I’m out of things to say.
A few months ago I purchased a new washer and dryer. I replaced the old top loader with a cool new front loading washing machine and the matching dryer. When they were delivered I realized that I accidentally ordered a gas dryer and I needed an electric dryer. I refused the delivery because, at the time, the dryer worked fine; I just wanted a matching set.
The old dryer finally died, so I purchased the new dryer and the pedestals. I now have a laundromat in my house. It’s very cool, but it’s come at a horrible price.
You see, my laundry room is in my downstairs bathroom. My new dryer has a glass door. My toilet sits directly across from the dryer. With the pedestal, it’s the perfect height for me to see myself when I sit on the toilet.
I can now watch myself poop.
I’ve tried closing my eyes, but that just seems a bit weird. I tried reading, but when I get to the top of the page my eyes wander, and then I can see myself reading and pooping at the same time. I tried looking out the window, but that hurts my neck. There’s no escaping it. This has become so unnerving that I’ve come to a drastic decision.
I have to walk to the upstairs bathroom to poop now.
Laughing, I think. I mostly miss laughing with her.
The inside jokes, the play on words, the little improv scenarios we’d invent on the spot when one of us said something slightly absurd. The funny voices. The rehashing of jokes we made when we were kids. The things we did to make each other laugh when we realized that the way we were living was in no way how children should be living.
There’s no more inside jokes. The rehashing of old jokes has just become too painful. Hilarity has been replaced by guilt. The funny voices have been replaced with voices in my head that tell me I’m a fool. The improv skits have become depressing little one act dramas. And there seems to be no joke in the world that will ever make us forget that we’re both in two very different places.
I miss the girl that she was. I miss the boy that I was, and I secretly curse her for making me change the way I feel about her.
She’ll never stop taking. And no matter how it hurts me, I just can’t stop giving.
Ever since I purchased my new high def webcam, I have a folder full of pictures that Tyra Banks would be proud of. There’s photos of me smiling. Mugging. Looking all serious. Looking all modely. In one pic I’m even giving the thumbs up to essentially nobody. I have become the definition of narcissistic.
Christ, can you imagine what I’d become if someone gave me a microphone?
So I just found out that one of my tweets was featured on a Fox News webpage. It’s not a funny or clever tweet, but a RIP to Don Kirshner. Plus, if you play the short podcast, they even mention my name!
The only bad thing about this is now I’ll probably get stuck listening to Beck at the next company picnic.
My 13 year old son screamed “Fuck You!” to me in anger today.
James and I really know how to bait one another. To be fair, after replaying the minutes before the outburst in my head I think I may have deserved it. Still, none of my children have ever said anything like this before. I was level headed after he said it. I did not chase after him. I suppressed the urge put him through the wall. I calmly went to his room, removed his xbox, stereo, drumsticks, and cell phone as he laid on his bed staring at the ceiling.
He later came to me in tears, apologizing and saying that the words just came out. He then gave me a cookie and hugged me. I thanked him for apologizing, but told him that I wasen’t ready to discuss it yet. This was like four hours ago and I haven’t seen him since.
I don’t know how to handle this, and quite frankly, I’m a little shaken up by it.
Happy Birthday to one of my best buds, Lisa.
I can’t even tell you how long ago, or what circumstance brought me to know Lisa. All I can tell you for sure is that, she’s one of the most genuine, nicest, smartest, and all around amazing women that I have the privilege of calling friend.
Thanks to her, I finally came around to Firefly, have seen more pictures of Henry Rollins than I ever thought I wanted to, gained more of an appreciation for Lance Henriksen, and I now have more patience for this whole steampunk thing.
Happy Birthday, Lisa. You’re awesome and I love ya!
Derek has proved a few things to us all this evening:
- He is the (a) Man.
- He’s got a set of balls on him.
- He’s cut. Above the rest.
Horoscope for Ophiuchus (Nov. 29-Dec.17)
You are in a cycle of change. Confusion overtakes you as you don’t really know who you are anymore. Be prepared for new emotions, new experiences, and a period of time when you have difficulty pronouncing new words.
Lucky numbers: 6, 9, and 0
My office is running about 50% today. NYC got smacked, but it’s not that bad. I live upstate, however, and I’m looking at about 18 or so inches. Even though I’m working a full day, I feel weird sometimes taking snow days when people in the office don’t see any snow on the ground.
I have a friend at work who’s as dialed in (probably much more) than I am with technology and the Internet. We’re working on a project together, and it’s a pleasure working, albeit at a distance, with this guy. He’s in the office, I’m 70 miles away, and we’re getting stuff done.
It’s still snowing. It’s gonna be a whore to dig myself out.
There’s a ST:TNG marathon on SyFy today. I have it on in the background. At this point in my life, I shouldn’t have such a vast knowledge of Starfleet procedures.
Given the choice between working today and playing in the snow, I’d much rather stay on the couch and review databases. It’s fucking cold out.
1. The male Guppy is a persistent little fucker.
2. Guppy blowjobs are literal affairs that include actual bubbles.
3. “Backing that shit up” looks a lot easier when done under water.
4. Listening to Prince’s Purple Rain soundtrack adds emotional depth and makes the act more interesting to watch.
5. Behind the filter is apparently the most romantic place in the tank.
6. The female seemed to get excited when I moved closer to get a better look. I believe this is due to my new haircut.
7. The male and female seemed to make violent moves towards one another. This leads me to believe that they are either married or share an S&M fetish.
8. The female at one point swam away and came to rest by the treasure chest. I believe there was a message in this.
9. Upon completion of the act, I came to realize that the long thin appendage coming off the male was something different than I thought it was, and the mating ritual was in fact a deification ritual.
I took Super-Nik up on her incredibly generous offer to share her massive ebook collection. Today I received a bunch of Clive Barker books that work flawlessly on my iPad.
Seriously, Nik, I was in a douchey mood this morning (well, I still kind of am, but less so now) and you’ve made me really happy today.
“In life you have to do a lot of things you don’t fucking want to do. Many times, that’s what the fuck life is… one vile fucking task after another.”
I woke up this morning to a freezing house.
In the middle of the night my oil ran out. I wasn’t sure of this until I threw some clothes on and checked my tank this morning. I called the oil company and made an appt. for them to come out and refill my tank. Until then, I took a shower that was so cold that I’m frankly surprised my heart didn’t stop.
I was also really concerned for my fish. I have two tanks, one 10 gallon with a heater, and a small one gallon tank that Sid Ficious lives in. Before I could leave the house this morning I had to make sure they were ok. The big tank seemed fine, but Sid was in a bad state. His little unheated tank was so cold that he was just lying on the bottom of the tank. I honestly thought he was dead. After shaking the tank and a few stilted cries of “Sid!” “Dude!” he started to move. I immediately took him out of his tank and threw him in the big heated tank. Since it was so cold I threw a blanket over the tank to retain heat. Once this was taken care of I headed out the door to grab my train.
It wasn’t until I was on the train that I realized that just threw a Siamese Fighting Fish into a tank of happy little Guppy’s and Tetras. Not only that, but I covered the tank, effectively creating an aquatic Thunderdome. I had no time to socialize these fish together, and by covering the tank, I’ve given them all alibis to any carnage and murderous intent that any one of them may have. When I get home tonight, I think I’ll honestly be a little afraid to take the cover off the tank. Who knows what I’ll find.
I should have swept the tank for weapons first.
2. Clowns creating delightful ballooon animals
3. Quaker low sugar Maple and Brown Sugar oatmeal
…so much goddamn office work. GPOYW, Video Dialects, and Actors Studio questions.
I’m gonna be busy when I get home tonight.
I love the posts the cheeseburger chowder post has sparked.
After reading your posts, and discussing it with a friend, I’ve decided that I should have gone with my gut and ordered the damn cheeseburger soup. Screw Miss Wall Street. It’s not like I would have ever seen her again. Besides, even if we did hit it off, at some point she would more than likely discover that I like cheeseburger chowder. Then what would I do? our entire relationship would have been based upon a lie.
Above all, be yourself.
I had every intention of ordering a large cheeseburger chowder soup. I then felt a slight bump behind me, so I turned around. A beautiful Wall St. type businesswoman got in line behind me. She caught my glance and we ever so slightly smiled at one another. Then the guy behind the soup counter said “What’ll it be, buddy?”
I ordered the split pea.
Because split pea sounds better than what amounts to a soup that a 12 year old would order.
I really need to not give a shit what people think sometimes. The split pea was good, but fuck, that cheeseburger chowder soup sounded AMAZING.
I’m a Hoarder.
I hoard love.
And no amount of therapy or 1-800-GOT-JUNK trucks are gonna make me give up any of it.
Last week I requested Words with Friends buddies. Since then some of you have heeded the call, and I just wanted to thank you guys and tell you that I am having a freaking blast playing this game with you. I did want to point a few things out, in case you haven’t realized it yet:
- Yes, I suck at this game. However with your help I think I’m getting better.
- I’m still figuring out some of the rules.
- Yes, I spelled “Fart”. Don’t judge. It’s a real word, apparently.
- As dicky as it may be to simply place an “S” or “Y” on a word that you just created, I’ll do it.
Anyway, I’m having lots of fun playing this game. Thanks guys! (You know who you are)