I know all of you new college graduates don't like it when we give you shit for being excited, but I think you're all taking it the wrong way. What we're really trying to tell you is this:
I'm four beers deep, and am heading to my buddies to split a fifth of cheap vodka before a cab picks us up to go see Adam Carolla. Mahalo motha fucka's!
YOU might not ever understand it because you went to school for a very career specific degree, but most (myself included) college kids have a very "world is my oyster, the possibilities are endless" perception of the world due to their venerable and egocentric professors that all think their specific field of study is the one true path to enlightenment. They brush up their little resumes and think things like "well, I know there are thousands other people that graduated with _____ degree, BUT, how many of them minored in the ______ program and took ______, _______ and ______ out of curriculum classes and were in ____ and _____ clubs and grew up with a(n) ______ background"? Then they realize that no one gives a flying fuck about their background, their upbringing or what kind of sports they played, only what kind of money they can bring to the table. Reading that probably seems painfully obvious, but (again, myself included) almost no one wants to believe that about themselves when they graduate from college, they all want to believe they have a special and unique skill set despite graduating with hundreds of other kids with the exact same degree from the same exact program. And don't chastise Monday Margaritas asshole.
On a completely different note I managed to muscle a ~1,000 pound cow back into its holding area while wearing flip flops. I felt like billy bad ass.
I was exactly this the first time around. Do I wish that I would have done things differently back then? Maybe...but I guess that possibly it would have been wasted at that point because I wasn't quite ready to not enjoy Margarita Mondays. After I was out in the professional world for awhile and decided to go back, not only did I go to "name of career" school, but I was also a much better student once I was ready to sacrifice some of the fun. And, um, yeah, drinking some wine.
Let's just go ahead and add Johnnie Walker Red to the list of beverages that I'll not be consuming anymore. I woke up this morning still shitfaced and stumbling around from last night. I didn't even get a hangover until about 7 p.m. To fix that, I'll be sipping domestic beers. Watching the Mecum auto auction, my wife and dog sleeping beside me on the couch, and lurking on TiB. Life is good.
It's miserable weather in my hometown so I'm staying in and watching the second miserable games of the Yankees-Sox series. To alleviate my disgust over my team's performance and Swisher's stupid mowhawk, I'm going to do a shot for every man the Yankees have left on base in the past two days. I'll be wasted in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Bingo.
My point is, life isn't all nostalgia and unemployment after graduating. Some of us don't get the nostalgia. If there was ever a time where I wanted to go back and spend eight months of my life learning this again: <a class="postlink" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michaelis_menten" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michaelis_menten</a> then I'd say that this would be a sign that something has gone wrong. In any case, I recognize the hopelessly naive attitude from the first university I went to. The school paper was filled with rants from the women's studies department, complaining that the job fairs were sexist because there were too many engineering and science based employers showing up and not enough NGOs and non-profits. In unrelated news, if anyone's interested, Modern Drunkard magazine has finally put out a new issue after a long hiatus: <a class="postlink" href="http://www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com</a>
Dude, you could have cut this, and your last few posts down to: "I'm incredibly lucky that I have a job in this market, and I'd like to think that my choices helped create that luck." If you have to justify not going out, and working your ass off, and going to school in a city where booze is 'spensive, it's sounding a little early to start getting your regret train chugging along. Gratitude for what you have is a great trait to start off with early in life. Also, some of the new pieces at MD are good.
As someone who has a crippling fear of heights, that actually looks fucking fun. As long as I know I'm secured to the beam, and trust that said tether is of good quality, I think it'd be a blast. Knowing me, I'd just chuck pennies or rubber bouncy balls. I'm sure the people on the ground would be entertained.
I just learned that I CAN watch porn on my Blackberry Bold. This discovery has nothing to do with the fact my laptop has been fucking up and I just had to send my PS3 into the shop. Nothing at all... I just watched Fast and Furious (the 4th one) doing a jello shot every time Vin Diesel looked at someone toughly, and every time Paul Walker looked sexually at a female. Its going to kick in and soon.
Just got home from race day. Our two cars dominated, one two. It was awesome racing. Major car fire with one of the local Hondas. I was right there taking pics from the pit lane. Will post after the birds stop distracting me. Birds you ask? Almost scalped myself. Picked up a generator that was under the front of the gooseneck trailer and realized, a little too late, that I was about 2" taller than there was space. Pretty big gash on my knoggin. Bled like a motherfucker. As in the taps turned on bad enough that EMS rolled full lights and sirens as a pool of blood quickly formed at my feet. Meanwhile, I'm applying direct pressure, blood practically squirting between my fingers, all while directing the 8 fuckers on my team. "get me that chair. Grab the first aid kit from the second locker. Hand me one of the clean shop rags from the bottom drawer. Don't fucking pass out you fag, I'm the one that's bleeding. Get me some water." The medic laughed that I was the calmest one there while everyone else was freaking out. He also was kind enough to point out a small tuft of hair on my head that I missed when I shaved it. Bastard. Luckily, no stitches required, and no pain. It'll be a reasonable scar though. Fun times!
Just finished another fourteen hour workday. Hired a girl today who will take that burden off of me, she's excited to work weekends!! She's cute, which will make her retardedly bubbly personality tolerable. Well, in the event I schedule myself with her. Seriously, she dotted her i's with bubble hearts on her application. Obviously I was desperate and possibly delusional from fatigue. Glass of wine and a bowl make lots of things better. Tip 20% in America, kids. It's the rule. It saves your food and beverages from getting spit in by the kids working their way through college so that they can live in their mom's basement.
Pics I took of the car fire. Every driver's worst nightmare. The biggest thing you always wonder about racing in your local area is how well the emergency crews will respond. Let me tell you, they did a fucking awesome job. That car came around turn 8, into the pits, and the fire "gator" was already on scene, and the female fire fighter was out and running with a bottle. The guy stopped the car, and she was hitting the driver even before he got out of the car. Hats off to META, and the corner/safety workers. It was a close one today. Oh... and if you're a so-so mechanic, DON'T WORK ON YOUR OWN FUEL CEL AND HAVE IT LEAK GAS ONTO YOUR EXHAUST. Just sayin. "That car don't look right", I said... "FIRE! FIRE!" The firewomen was already hitting it with the bottle. The driver's still in there. Almost out.
I've had a head of hair for 6 months out of the last 21 years. Back to shaved, and don't see it changing any time soon. Now rocking the full beard and shaved head, Obadiah Stane look.