Rave: Married 5 years today. Living together 6 years Saturday. Incredible threesome with her awesome girlfriend on Saturday night. My wife is fucking awesome. Rave: Friends are getting married in a circus performance at the Woodford Festival in January and were looking for a celebrant. Just referred them to the celebrant who did our wedding since we thought he might be cool enough to handle their requirements.
Rant: Well I fucking am. Rant: My hands look like I got into a fight with a brick wall. I decided chopping wood was a good idea after getting home from the pub on Saturday night. I overchopped the block, meaning it was catapulted by the blockbuster into my hands.
RANT: I did weights on Saturday, specifically bench press. I don't do weights, and haven't touched them in years because of my medical conditions. For even longer than that I haven't bench pressed because of my shoulder injury. We had a guy doing his practical assessment for his Fitness Certificate and he needed a guinea pig for some perceived exertion tests for high intensity training. I'm a dumb bunny and volunteered. Today I can barely move my fucking shoulder and the heads of my pecs are screaming. I are smart.
Rave: August 7, 2007, was the single worst day of my life. Found out a tumor was occupying roughly a quarter of my cranial cavity, and I had approximately 36 hours left of clinically-assisted "life" until a doctor could cut me open and see what's up. Well August 9, 2007, was the single best day of my life. I woke up from the surgery, and despite the fact that there was statistically and medically absolutely no reason for me not to have any physical side effects, I was -- for all intents and purposes -- perfectly fine. You mess up bad at your job, you better have a cool and understanding boss to let you try it again. In baseball, you get three strikes and you're out. But it's on the rare occasion, in life, that people genuinely get that second chance. August 9, 2007 -- three years ago today -- I was blessed/lucky enough to get to press that "redo" button. Then on my one-year anniversary from the surgery, by chance (and actually by way of a waitress I had met at the first restaurant we went to after the hospital), I met a real cool girl who I quickly became great friends with. I married her last June, so today is also our two-year anniversary of meeting. I'm still not sure if there is a purpose to life, or if my second chance happened because I was supposed to still do something in life. What I can tell you is, in the hospital, I was very concerned with the fact that I had not yet done anything that would leave a meaningful legacy. Three years later, I have a good start on that. I'm not saying go out and have a kid or anything, but when you die, make sure you've done at least enough for people to remember your name. Rant: My only regret in three years is that I haven't (yet) been able to find a publisher for my manuscript about the whole event. It'll happen, eventually. Even if I have to re-write this damn thing three different ways.
Rave: Had a sweet mini vacation in NYC the past week, got a new suit, went to a comedy show, saw A-rod hit his 600th (Jays fan, but still cool to see it in person) Rave: Got a nice little bonus from work as a reward for the company doing so good Rant: Got pick pocketed in Newark Airport and got $200 stolen from me. There goes some of my bonus.
Rave: Sat night debut of IHTSBIH on Showtime. Rant: Wow. Now I know why he pulled the plug on the TMMB/RMMB.
RAVE: Drank 3 cases of Genny Cream Ale in about 3 days. 6 cases and numerous nights out with old friends. RAVE: $16 for 30. RAVE: 4 day bender, 0 hangovers. RAVE: Sobered up enough at one point to visit the grandparents grave. RANT And this too must end.
Rave: I'm sitting in my car listening to Alt Nation and chilling. Why? Cause I have a 96 in my lecture class, and I'm exempt from the final. Still had to show up to pick up letters of recommendation, and I have to take the last lab practical no matter what in about 2 hours. Best part? I can fail the practical and still get an A in the class. Woo hoo! Rave: Last week at the hospital! I've seen more old man junk and tragic situations than I'd care to see for awhile. Mostly the old man junk.
Rant: As of right now I have been up 24 hours because I was up thinking about shit that I could not change in my underwear and in bed. As a side result of the first hint of delirium I'm pondering how little I've gotten done in 24 hours and yet how much Jack Bauer can get done in the same time period. Just fuck off amazing that guy Rave: Sitting at work doing tedious 1 line alteration coding for hundreds of individual files as soon as I finish Flobots Handlebars song comes on Pandora. That shit isn't even in my artists yet it makes me so goddamned happy. Pandora is the shit.
Rave: Spending 3 days with some of my best friends in the Windy City and then a lake house? I'm ecstatic and feel like a kid waiting for Christmas. It can't come soon enough. Let the drunken reunion begin.
RAVE: Got a text this morning from my girl with some nice sexual undertones. RAVE: I suggested she come over for her lunch break and she said she was thinking the same thing. RAVE: Got a text after she got back to work saying that her body hurts and she hope's she'll be able to walk by wednesday.
Rave: I come from good genetic stock. Went to a 90th birthday party on Saturday night, and the birthday "girl" danced non-stop all night. If she doesn't live to 100 I'll eat my . . . . hat. And she wasn't even the oldest at the party. At least 2 others were in their 90s, and several other folks of indeterminate age made an appearance. Another rave: There were a plethora of 20 something distant relatives there as well. That side of the family has some magnificent cans. That isn't wrong if they're all cousins third and fourth removed, is it?
'Public Transit': A Play in Three Lines by B. Phil "Sir, you have to move toward the back of the bus." "Oh no, no, Obama can't make me move my ass back." "Sir, Obama has nothing to do with this. Move back so we can get her wheelchair on the bus." Fin.
I avoid posting in this thread on the same page, but RANT: Fuck gangs. Fuck them all. I am glad when they kill each other normally, but then last march some gang banger shot a guy and a kid in the bowling alley near my old place. This bowling alley is family owned, and was a great place for cheap strong drinks, a great community, and just a good time. I was there with friends at the bar weekly. But after that incident, business became so slow that they are being forced to close, meaning the whole family who ran it is out of business.
Rave (and a huge sigh of relief): Classes for the summer session are over, and I just have a take home final due Friday night of which I'm 40% done. But the real rave and relief is in getting back my two papers for one of the classes, each with a grade of 98. Now, I can relax and lighten up a little on the final.
Rave: Wow, people. Here I am, the last day of summer. Tomorrow, I start my career as a teacher. This is my second career. I "reset" my life three years ago, and it has been great. During that time, I got married, had a baby, and found a love for teaching. I also racked up some serious student loans, but I don't care. I love going to school every day. I also got a job in a great school district. Now, if i can figure out some way to make 7th graders less annoying.