Little Frustrating

I was going to start this blog with a rant about my job and how it's midnight and I'm drinking coke and still working through my data. Instead I think I'm just going to ramble about nothingness until a cohesive thought process comes forward.

Most of my friends can admit that I can be pretty shameless. I say what's on my mind, I say what other people are thinking occasionally, and usually that tends to be inappropriate. I think we need to be unforgiving sometimes. Let's be honest, it's that brutal honesty that we need sometimes to kick us into gear. It's not meant to be mean (unless you want it to be), it's meant to bring you back to center. For example, a few weeks ago Noose (still trying to get you a better nickname) called me out. "Dan, while you were gone we had 6 weeks of the kitchen not stinking like ass. Then you got back. Have you noticed how bad it stinks? It's because you leave food in the garbage disposal and don't run it. I don't care if it's a grain of rice next time, run the damn disposal." You know what? I've run that disposal at least once a week since. It was honest, and righted by faults.

So why on earth don't we apply this same practice in public. I mean, imagine telling a homeless person, "Excuse me, could you at least urinate in the bushes outside, and not on the seats on the 'L'?" or how about to the people on bicycles, "Mr. Cyclist! Hello, I will do my best to honor your bike lane, if you do your best to not assume the whole road is yours. " It's not that hard.

I can see a downside to being as honest as possible with people. That would be low self-esteem and for emotional girls, a lot of nights crying yourself to sleep while you play Taylor Swift wishing your life was like the songs she sings about, eating your low-fat ice cream because you think it's not quite as bad if you eat the whole pint, self-pitying in self-loathing. We've all had those nights, don't worry about it. Geez, I can think of at least 2 or 3 people that if myself, or some people I know wanted to just let loose, would put some people on suicide watch duty. So maybe the whole honesty thing isn't good, but we should think about practicing in small doses.

In 2 weeks I begin my journey to obtain "Elite Flying Status" with a major airline. I look forward to smirking as I flash my card and get on the plane first while all the common folk look on with their "Zone 4" boarding passes. I hope when I flash my smile at the gate attendant, and don't look back at those miserable zombies, those people in line wish they were me. I'll be the envy of everyone. "Look at that young 20-something," they'll say, "He's going into the Delta Crown Room, I wonder what treats they have in there." Well having been privy to see several status waiting rooms, let me tell you this, I will NOT share with you what's in there. If I were to reveal those secrets, it'd be the equivalent of when the Nazi's opened the Arc of the Covenant and their faces either a.) Exploded or b.) Melted off. That's right, you don't want that to happen.

My quest for being healthier took a major hit this week. I'm working late hours, staying in a hotel, and the room service is from Applebee's. Oh and stress is high. Yea, I've eaten burgers, fries, and had a turkey sandwich covered in Avacado Ranch dressing tonight. I mean it was tasty, but I'm pretty sure I set myself back some time.

I will say this much, I'm very pleased that April is almost over. This month has been forgettable at best. The highlight was the wedding I went to. If it wasn't marred by the fact that the last day I was checking emails to make sure my team wasn't ready to implode w/out me, I think it would have been perfect.

I just remembered that I wanted to blog about something for quite some time, but just haven't put it down. Lately I've been worrying that I might have given myself some kind of bad voodoo. I don't know why, but I have very very random memories as a kid. it's funny what you remember sometimes. I'm sure I've blocked out countless important things from my past, and hell, sometimes I can't remember what I ate for breakfast. Anyway, this one memory from my past has literally been haunting me and I think it might be starting to affect me. I'm hoping that find a way to break the hex, but the biggest problem is I'm allowing it to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I guess I need to bear down and just make my own luck.

Oh yea, I need a haircut bad too.

Something to ponder

What was the last restaurant you were in that didn't have 'Applewood Smoked Bacon'?

Bitch Slap

Dear Mr. Recline Your Seat Before the Flight Even Starts and Makes Me Squeeze Into a My Seat:

All I want to do is slap you across the face. Do you have any idea how inconsiderate it is to recline your seat before the flight even starts? Hell, it's inconsiderate to put your seat down DURING the flight. I'm 6'3'', and the seats are small enough already. Screw you.

Also, Mr. Yell at the Gate Lady Because It's Raining:

Take it up with God if it's raining. The gate lady can't help it's raining and the flight is getting delayed. She also can't help that the 75 people who boarded before you had carry ons and took up all the overhead compartments. I get that traveling is stressful and it sucks sometimes; especially when all you want to do is get home and can't. I hope yelling at the gate lady makes you feel better. While I'm hoping for things, I hope in whatever afterlife there is, that same gate lady hobbles you and makes you crawl through a field of rusty needles.

Respect

So ever since I started writing this blog, I've really gotten into just writing in general. I admit I need to smooth out the edges, but overall this has been a very rewarding experience thus far.

In addition to this blog, I've been writing, for lack of a better term lyrics. It never rhymes, so I wouldn't call it a poem, but the flow of them looks more like that of a song. usually it's a therapeutic way for me to write out whatever is on my mind without using this current medium.

Either way, I looked through some of what I had put together. I think the best comparison would be to my golf game. Overall it's bad, but there's the occasional moment of greatness. I have a much greater respect now for bands, especially those I listen to. It's not an easy task to put together something and put it out there for the world.

That's my shout out. To all of those who write the songs I listen to.

Jamaican Wedding

Continuing with my tradition to procrastinate, I'll blog about the past few days instead of check email and do work. This past weekend I was in Jamaica for my cousins wedding. Absolutely amazing time. I'll start from the beginning though.

The first part of this is going to mirror another blog post I've recently read. I feel I need to discuss how stupid some people are though. Here it is, my travelling by plane rants. So everyone, let's talk about how to get ready for a trip somewhere. First, the clothes you will wear to the airport. I don't care if you wear pajamas, or a business suit, whatever you are most comfortable flying in, wear it. You shouldn't wear lots of metal jewelry though, or put hidden trinkets in your 20 pockets. If you set off the metal detector more than once, I think you deserve a shot to the kidneys.

I had to wait 5 minutes for a woman and her child to get through the damn metal detector in security. The only reason I got through that quickly was because I lapped them. Yes, after each had gone through no less than 3 times each, I ignored line protocol, and just walked past them to get through. It's not like there have been radical changes to the security process. It's been AT LEAST 7 years, of shoes off, computers in a bin, all metal objects in the bin, the only thing going through should be yourself, and the clothes on your back. No accessories. I know I'm fortunate enough to travel around and have my security process down to an efficient routine, but this was ridiculous.

Next gripe, getting onto the plane. I have two issues here. 1.) People who pack more than one carry on bag, and 2.) Switching seats. We'll start with the first. Ladies and Gentlemen, you are allowed ONE carry on bag and ONE personal item. Let me clarify that for you, you can have ONE small suitcase, and ONE item that fits underneath the seat in front of you. The small item means a laptop bag (not one of those huge ones), purse, or handbag. That does not mean you should be 2 XXL Vera Wang, or whatever the hell those bags are, onto the plane to stuff into the overhead bins. I actually blame the airlines for this little gem of stress for charging to check bags. Just standardize across the industry to add $25 to ticket prices. This nickel & dime stuff is killing me.

Still on to carry on items. When placing them in the overhead bins, use the bins near y our seat. I don't care that you packed 50lb weights in your bag. I really don't. Carry your bags to the back of the plane where your seats are, don't just toss them in the first bin you see because it's open. Maybe if you walked that extra distance with your oversized carry ons, you wouldn't have to purchase 2 seats because you are overflowing into the seat next to you. We are becoming a society were being lazy, overweight, and self-entitled to things that don't belong to us are common place and accepted. People should be called out on this, and flogged in public. And you know what, if I have any of these traits, I would hope I get called out on it. It makes you a better person. Noose called me out the other day saying I don't run the garbage disposal enough and I'm the one who should be running it since I put food down the sink. You know what happens now? I run it at least once to twice a week, and the kitchen smells better. Everyone wins.

The final gripe, clapping when the plane lands. I don't get an applause when I do my job at work. In fact, there's a good chance, I might get chewed out for not responding to emails while on vacation. I don't own a crackberry for this reason. So don't clap when a pilot lands, don't sing, don't do anything. Act like he's supposed to do it, because well, he's supposed to. I will leave a caveat for this though. I was on a flight with returning soldiers from Iraq who hadn't seen their family in over 1 year. They were on their final flight home, and only had to walk off the plane and to baggage claim before seeing their loved ones. I joined them when they started clapping for joy when those wheels touched down. Support our troops.

As you can tell the trip down was pretty eventful. The wedding was in Ocho Rios and I was greeted in the terminal by my driver who was taking me. Once I got into the car, I asked my driver how long of a drive it was. "90 minutes man" was his reply. Well damn. So it was an hour and a half of silence as we drove the winding rodes of Jamaica. I'm usually talkative, but I'd been up since 4am, exhausted, and really just not in the mood to talk. Plus the scenery was breathtaking and I was taking it in.

The Royal Plantation, our resort, was amazing. Everyone was extremely accommodating, and all I had to do was ask and my wishes were granted. As is traditional with most weddings, a round of golf was played. We played Friday morning, and I was pair with my dad, older brother, and uncle to cousin (from his mom's side). This wound up being one of the most frustrating, enjoyable games of golf I've ever played. We were all using rental clubs, which will be my excuse for poor play. Per usual, my game was poor, with spurts of greatness. My greatest moment, and the one that will allow me want to play again, was being 5 yds shy of hitting my ball onto the green in 2, on a Par 5. Somehow I managed to string together a perfect drive (between 2 trees and cutting the corner of a dogleg), and then drilling a fairway shot with my 5 wood. Unfortunately, I took a bad chip, and 2 puts to pull off a legit par, but I was so pleased with the first two shots that I'll be coming back for more.

Fun fact about my family, they love martinis. How much so? In 3 days we drank the resort out of Beefeater Gin. The resort said they'd never seen anything like it.

The wedding and reception were gorgeous. I'll try to post some photos later. I managed to keep myself in check the entire weekend, only drinking beer with the occasional shot. I made the mistake once of trying to keep up with my cousins. I'm still at an amateur status, and had to pace myself through the night. I managed to stay up until 2am with most of the grooms friends celebrating after the reception when one comes up to me, "Dan! Think they still are doing shots?" I had to assume yes, so we checked, found out whiskey was all that was left for the night, and we rounded up 12 shots of Jameson. I don't normally drink whiskey, but Jameson was mighty fine and goes down smooth.

The worst part about the trip was getting up at 4am today to leave and spending the whole day coming back to Chicago. It's good to be back though. Unfortunately though, I turned my work computer on, and have no less than 20 important messages, including missing time and expense reports and scorecards. Perfect. I'll be up for a few hours catching up. This is honestly the worst part about vacation, I have to get back to the real world and play catch up for 2 days.

Good Ass Weekend

Due to complaints, I am doing my best to keep this blog as up to date as possible. Work's been a little busy and I just haven't had the desire to blog lately. I'm actually delaying work that I'm supposed to be doing to keep this updated, so all 5 of you who read this better appreciate it.

Also, just to cover the food portion of the blog, my diet has been granola bars, apples, bananas, chicken wrap sandwiches, salmon, pasta with olive oil, and pizza (Thursday/Friday only) for the last week and a half. I don't really deviate from that right there. I'll also mention the bag of Oreo's I've been working on since Easter that my mom gave me. Thanks Mom, they are delicious! Seriously everyone, get yourself to your local grocer, buy some double stuff spring time Oreo's, some milk, and just sit back and enjoy (you're welcome Nabisco).

This weekend was good for a couple reasons. I'll start with work Friday. Typical day, I was given a project at 2pm Friday, and told, "yea, we need this Monday morning." seriously? It's Friday afternoon and you give me a project due Monday morning? Perfect, so that's next after this post is completed. I was pretty salty after that, but you know what? It's the weekend, so I got what I could done, shut down, and headed home. The original plan for the weekend was for my 3 roommates to be in Milwaukee and me to chill out by myself. I was actually really looking forward to this. I would have gotten to enjoy some naked time, nothing too crazy, just around my room, maybe downstairs to get some juice. I don't sit on any furniture when I'm enjoying naked time. I need to show a little respect for the roommates. I was going to take it easy, clean my room, get some laundry done, work out, lots of little errands. I managed to get everything I wanted to get done, completed around 6:30 or 7pm. Feeling good about this, I heated up some left over pizza, sat down and started trying to find a movie to watch while I relaxed.

Phone rings. Damnit who is calling? It's one of my roommates who's driving to Milwaukee for the night. My initial thought was, "What the hell did you forget? You'd better reward me with some amazing reward if you make me drive your phone charger or something similar to you. So I answer, and learn that he was in a car accident. I'm sure everyones been in this situation, you are gearing yourself up to make the other person feel bad, feeling a little bitter, a little angry, then BAM!!!! they drop something big on you. I immediately went into "concern" mode, asked what I can do, and told him I'd pick him and the person he was with up on the interstate.

This is actually pretty lucky for my roommates since the original plans for my Friday was to go on a date (more later), but that got pushed to Saturday. So I drove out, picked them up, discovered that 2 bottle of whiskey were purchased, and I wouldn't get my naked time this weekend. So what do you when you get this kind of news? You say to hell with it, take a quick shower, put on some jeans, and start boozing. I called another friend, and the 4 of us started to down whiskey shots and beer to get ready for the night.

The night took us to our regular spot, Butch McGuire's to meet some lady friends we know. Upon finding them at the bar, I promptly picked one up in a giant bear hug and smacked her head against the low hanging ceiling. Sorry about that EL. I didn't give any more big hugs after that.

Some O-Bombs and beers later, my roommate......

Ok, I'm taking a tangent right now. I'm going to give my roommates nicknames so I can differentiate them. I'm tired of saying, "my roommate this" and "that." I do my best to not use names in this blog, so for now, unless either myself, or they come up w/ better names for themselves, my roommates are:

Boomer (for his loud voice)

Noose (for his neckties)

Sweet Tea (loves sweet tea)

and back to center.... Boomer and I discovered a wall mounted juke box towards the back of the bar. I'm sure it's always been there, but this particular night, it called out name. We approached it like moths to the flame, and decided, the music being played needed an upgrade. $1 bill later, we found some kind of random song on the pre-sets. It was a split second after our song came on that I saw a credit card swipe. You gotta be kidding me? I can just swipe my credit card and listen to whatever music I want?!?! Recipe for disaster. $10 later, we were picking all the punk rock songs we love and taking requests from drunk girls shaking off their boyfriends so they can listen to whatever ass-shaking bump and grind jam they want to listen to. I'm serious, any single guys out there, make a $5-$10 investment into one of these juke boxes and watch girls just come up to you. Quite the opener and we weren't even trying.

So we're rocking out and loose track of the time, wind up closing down the bar. Well, all the girls from school we met up with left, so Boomer, his gf and I left to get some food. Mr. Gyro's is the best late night. I've yet to have Taco Burrito Palace, but I bet this rivals it. I picked up some cheesesteaks (Boomer you owe me $5), bring it back, and house it down. As I was licking my lips and sipping my ice cold cola, I glanced at the clock and saw it was 4:30am. Great. Just great. I went from wanting to stay in, relax, go to bed around 10, to getting shmammered, eating greasy food, and staying up until 4:30. Oh well, it happens. So thus starts the good weekend with a solid performance Friday.

Saturday greeted me with a hangover, sun shining and 11am wake up call. Deciding to make the most of the day, I did a few more errands, straightening up my room, hit up the gym for a solid work out (cardio mostly if you are interested) and then enjoying some sunshine on the rooftop of our apartment. While bronzing my sexy self, I called up the lovely lady I had made plans with for the evening to confirm time and place. With the plans set in stone, and feeling adventurous with some time to kill, myself, Boomer and Sweet Tea decided to go to the driving range to hit some balls. Apparently we weren't the only people with the same idea. It took about 10-15 minutes to get a spot to hit, but I'm pleased with the end result. I finally got a decent shot with my hybrids, and made a couple nice drives. I decided these good shots were a sign of good things to come and went to get myself ready for my night out.

It's been a while since I had a real first date, so I was nervous. You know it's bad when I'm trying on 2-3 different shirts trying to figure out what looks just right. Now, if I can say so myself though, I clean up pretty well. I admit most of the time I look like I'm not putting myself together well. I'm lazy. I hate shaving, I like wearing my ball caps, and save my leather belts and shoes for work. I took the extra steps this night though. Got myself a good shave, some cologne, new shoes, clean shirt, oh yea, it was on.

As I was about to head out, Sweet Tea, sensing some nervous energy around me decides to help me relax a little. "Shots?" I rarely refuse this offer, so I agree. "BOOMER!!! Get up here it's important!" Boomer comes bouncing up the stairs to be greeted with 3 shots poured of the Dr.'s Old Crow. Down the hatch and good luck.

I won't go into the details of the date. I'm sure this is disappointing to some, but I'll blog about my personal life to an extent, but keep private matters separate. We went to dinner, and then a bar afterwards. I'll say I had a great time, and am looking forward to seeing this girl again.

After the date, I came home, decided I wanted to stay up some more, and put in 'Gran Torino' staring Clint Eastwood. The blatant racism in the movie made me chuckle occasionally, but overall, it was an excellent film. Mr. Eastwood makes me want to be an angry old man when I grow older. Apparently other people agree with this though, because I got some "Likes" on facebook.

Sunday was a typical day, nothing too crazy besides getting pwned in Broomball. But yes, overall this has been a great weekend. I'm looking forward to more like it as the weather gets warmer.

So the recipe for a good weekend is this: Good Friends + Good Weather + Old Crow

Short and Sweet

So I saw a "Top 10 Things I Hate About Facebook" blog the other day and it got me thinking. What do I not like about the magical world of facebook?

One thing really stuck out to me about what I don't like about it and even South Park did a great job talking about it the other night. I hate Farmville. I'm sorry, let me rephrase that, I LOATHE Farmville. I want to apologize to any good friends of mine who play this game. I'm sure it's fun, and I'm sure your imaginary crops are feeding the starving children in war-torn Africa, but the updates need to stop.

If someone knows how to block Farmville specific updates, I'll pay you to show me, because I don't need to know who found a baby cow on their property. You know what most farms would do with a baby cow (calf if you please)? Make a delicious veal dinner served with a side of farm fresh vegetables. Seriously, it's a vagrant cow, somebody obviously didn't want it, nobody is going to miss it, so eat the damn thing.

If there were a way I could sow the fields with salt like the conquering Roman army so nothing could grow again, I would honestly get myself drunk, and destroy some peoples farms and call it a night. I'd apologize in the morning I'm sure, but you'd have to guilt me into it.

I think I saw one update for a viking quest to find a dragon or something the other day. You want a god-damn dragon on your farm?! Are you fucking insane? They breathe fire. They'd burn your crops and eat your livestock. Great fucking planning.

So yea, that's all for now, come back for more.