Goddamn. I haven't written a blog in like a month. I need to get better at that. This is my Christmas blog. Or, for all my Muslim friends, my Ramadan blog.
So Christmas was kinda neat-o, in a manner of speaking. I'd take you through it day-by-day, but it's not overly exciting, so here are some of the highlights:
- Apparently, all the drugs I did my first few years of college are catching up with me. Friday night, I went down to the bar (not the bars, mind you, but the bar, beacuse there's only one bar in Rock Rapids, IA) with my friend/nemesis/oft-forgotten-sex-slave Kate. It was pretty dead for a Friday night, but then again, Rock Rapids is usually pretty dead for a Friday night. Or any day that ends in "Y," for that matter. Anyways, all was well until somebody walks in and starts talking to me, asking me how I've been, where I'm living these days, all that business. And I had to stop this poor young woman in the middle of her inquisition and say "Sweetheart, I'm really sorry to have to be like this, but I have no idea who you are." Turns out it was a girl named Molly that I graduated high school with -- as in, she was one of the 68 people in my graduating class. Mind you, I haven't seen this girl in eight and a half years, but I still felt sorta bad that I didn't even remember her. But then I remember that she was always sort of a cunt, so I didn't feel so bad after that. I mean, I felt bad for myself, for not remembering somebody I've basically known since I was ten, but, as I mentioned, the cuntishness made those feelings go away relatively quickly.
- Saturday was spent primarily in Sioux Falls, initially with Tara and Amie. We went to see The Departed at a theater where ticket prices are less than the cost of parking my fucking car at the theater in Chicago, so that was neat. Second time I've seen it, and I gotta say, I'm very much looking forward to Martin Scorcese not winning yet another Best Director Oscar -- not that he doesn't deserve it, I think it's probably his best movie since Goodfellas, but let's face it -- if he hasn't won it by now, he's not going to. They'll toss him some kind of Lifetime Achievement Award a year or so before he dies, like they did to Robert Altman this year. I know that in Hollywood, you have to be nice and grateful and put on a happy face and all that, but it'd be nice if the man just once stood up and said "Hey, I'd just like you remind you dickwads that sixteen years ago, you passed me over in favor of Kevin Fucking Costner for that buffalo movie. I'm just saying." Then again, it's not like the man NEEDS an Oscar -- they're relatively meaningless when you consider the fact that Mel Gibson has two and David Lynch has none. I'm just saying, it'd be nice to see that sort of honesty.
- After the movie, I went to dinner with Tara and Amie at some place of which I cannot remember the name, but the food was quite delightful, as was the wine, which is interesting considering I'm not really a wine drinker. I mean, I typically have a case of either Old Style or PBR in my fridge, I'm not really one for $25 bottles of wine, but it was tasty and didn't get me too drunk, so I suppose I got that going for me, which is nice. Afterwards, we went to a bar and met up with... probably a dozen people from our graduating class (sadly, the cunt I didn't remember was not in attendance). So that was neat, too. Drank some beers, did some shots, and I figured out that, compared to my friends from high school, I'm actually fairly good at pool. Haven't played in probably a year -- last time I shot was with My Incredibly Racist Friend Larry at Mickey's, probably last winter some night -- but it was a good time. Oh, and some chick named Wendy was flirting up a storm, and her boyfriend was none too happy about this. I think he tried to yell at me once, but apathy got in the way and I just went back to the table to drink more. It is at this point that I should give a hearty shout-out to the friends with whom I was lucky enough to keep company with on this fine evening -- Tara, Amie, Kate, Kille, Kille's Wife (who may or may not be named Kristy, I can't really remember), Folkens, Tia, BJ, Phil, Dannix, and if I'm forgetting anybody, I apologize, but I didn't even remember Molly Fucking Attig's name, so you can't expect too much out of this gentleman at this point.
- Then Amie passed out. Not at the bar. I mean, she was goodly enough to wait until we all got back to her place for that. Oh, and on the way, the cab driver had some dude in the front seat who claimed to be "the owner of the cab company," which I'm pretty sure was a line of horseshit, since the owner of a cab company probably wouldn't sit up front and force five people to sit in the back. FIVE PEOPLE. That was a crock and a half. Nothing personal, Dan, I mean, you're good people and all, but I'd rather not have to sit with half my ass on your lap again for a while.
- My family did the Christmas thingie on the 24th. Speaking of things that are a crock and a half, the Bears game wasn't on TV in Rock Rapids. Anyways, I made out pretty well (regarding gifts, I mean). It was a typical Used Christmas, which means I got a book, a few DVDs (Clerks 2, Rent, Batman Begins, and Underworld: Evolution), the new Tony Hawk game for the PS2, and some cash (well, a check, but either/or). I told my mother that in the future, I will no longer be asking for the new Tony Hawk game for Christmas, not because I don't want it, but because after six years running, she should just assume that ever autumn there's going to be a new Tony Hawk game, and every Christmas I'm going to want it. Ooh, I also got a Slinky, which is actually quite delightful, because it's one of the old-school metal ones. I had a Slinky once. But I straightened it.
- After all of this joy, delight, and/or merriment, it was time for me to return home to Chicago. After spending eight hours on the road with no human contact save an NPR station I was able to pull in around Albert Lea, it was nice to have a brief conversation with some cute chick who couldn't have been older than 17 at the Taco Bell in Beloit, and even nicer to pick up my friend Carlie from the O'Hare on the way home. Seriously, you sit in a car by yourself for that long and you learn the value of interaction with other persons.
And now I'm back home, back at work. There were maybe nine people in the office today, which seems high, but when you consider there are about sixty people on a normal day, you can understand why I walked in at 8:00 a.m. and thought, if only briefly, that it must have been some bank holiday I was unaware of.
That was my Christmas. How was yours?
So Christmas was kinda neat-o, in a manner of speaking. I'd take you through it day-by-day, but it's not overly exciting, so here are some of the highlights:
- Apparently, all the drugs I did my first few years of college are catching up with me. Friday night, I went down to the bar (not the bars, mind you, but the bar, beacuse there's only one bar in Rock Rapids, IA) with my friend/nemesis/oft-forgotten-sex-slave Kate. It was pretty dead for a Friday night, but then again, Rock Rapids is usually pretty dead for a Friday night. Or any day that ends in "Y," for that matter. Anyways, all was well until somebody walks in and starts talking to me, asking me how I've been, where I'm living these days, all that business. And I had to stop this poor young woman in the middle of her inquisition and say "Sweetheart, I'm really sorry to have to be like this, but I have no idea who you are." Turns out it was a girl named Molly that I graduated high school with -- as in, she was one of the 68 people in my graduating class. Mind you, I haven't seen this girl in eight and a half years, but I still felt sorta bad that I didn't even remember her. But then I remember that she was always sort of a cunt, so I didn't feel so bad after that. I mean, I felt bad for myself, for not remembering somebody I've basically known since I was ten, but, as I mentioned, the cuntishness made those feelings go away relatively quickly.
- Saturday was spent primarily in Sioux Falls, initially with Tara and Amie. We went to see The Departed at a theater where ticket prices are less than the cost of parking my fucking car at the theater in Chicago, so that was neat. Second time I've seen it, and I gotta say, I'm very much looking forward to Martin Scorcese not winning yet another Best Director Oscar -- not that he doesn't deserve it, I think it's probably his best movie since Goodfellas, but let's face it -- if he hasn't won it by now, he's not going to. They'll toss him some kind of Lifetime Achievement Award a year or so before he dies, like they did to Robert Altman this year. I know that in Hollywood, you have to be nice and grateful and put on a happy face and all that, but it'd be nice if the man just once stood up and said "Hey, I'd just like you remind you dickwads that sixteen years ago, you passed me over in favor of Kevin Fucking Costner for that buffalo movie. I'm just saying." Then again, it's not like the man NEEDS an Oscar -- they're relatively meaningless when you consider the fact that Mel Gibson has two and David Lynch has none. I'm just saying, it'd be nice to see that sort of honesty.
- After the movie, I went to dinner with Tara and Amie at some place of which I cannot remember the name, but the food was quite delightful, as was the wine, which is interesting considering I'm not really a wine drinker. I mean, I typically have a case of either Old Style or PBR in my fridge, I'm not really one for $25 bottles of wine, but it was tasty and didn't get me too drunk, so I suppose I got that going for me, which is nice. Afterwards, we went to a bar and met up with... probably a dozen people from our graduating class (sadly, the cunt I didn't remember was not in attendance). So that was neat, too. Drank some beers, did some shots, and I figured out that, compared to my friends from high school, I'm actually fairly good at pool. Haven't played in probably a year -- last time I shot was with My Incredibly Racist Friend Larry at Mickey's, probably last winter some night -- but it was a good time. Oh, and some chick named Wendy was flirting up a storm, and her boyfriend was none too happy about this. I think he tried to yell at me once, but apathy got in the way and I just went back to the table to drink more. It is at this point that I should give a hearty shout-out to the friends with whom I was lucky enough to keep company with on this fine evening -- Tara, Amie, Kate, Kille, Kille's Wife (who may or may not be named Kristy, I can't really remember), Folkens, Tia, BJ, Phil, Dannix, and if I'm forgetting anybody, I apologize, but I didn't even remember Molly Fucking Attig's name, so you can't expect too much out of this gentleman at this point.
- Then Amie passed out. Not at the bar. I mean, she was goodly enough to wait until we all got back to her place for that. Oh, and on the way, the cab driver had some dude in the front seat who claimed to be "the owner of the cab company," which I'm pretty sure was a line of horseshit, since the owner of a cab company probably wouldn't sit up front and force five people to sit in the back. FIVE PEOPLE. That was a crock and a half. Nothing personal, Dan, I mean, you're good people and all, but I'd rather not have to sit with half my ass on your lap again for a while.
- My family did the Christmas thingie on the 24th. Speaking of things that are a crock and a half, the Bears game wasn't on TV in Rock Rapids. Anyways, I made out pretty well (regarding gifts, I mean). It was a typical Used Christmas, which means I got a book, a few DVDs (Clerks 2, Rent, Batman Begins, and Underworld: Evolution), the new Tony Hawk game for the PS2, and some cash (well, a check, but either/or). I told my mother that in the future, I will no longer be asking for the new Tony Hawk game for Christmas, not because I don't want it, but because after six years running, she should just assume that ever autumn there's going to be a new Tony Hawk game, and every Christmas I'm going to want it. Ooh, I also got a Slinky, which is actually quite delightful, because it's one of the old-school metal ones. I had a Slinky once. But I straightened it.
- After all of this joy, delight, and/or merriment, it was time for me to return home to Chicago. After spending eight hours on the road with no human contact save an NPR station I was able to pull in around Albert Lea, it was nice to have a brief conversation with some cute chick who couldn't have been older than 17 at the Taco Bell in Beloit, and even nicer to pick up my friend Carlie from the O'Hare on the way home. Seriously, you sit in a car by yourself for that long and you learn the value of interaction with other persons.
And now I'm back home, back at work. There were maybe nine people in the office today, which seems high, but when you consider there are about sixty people on a normal day, you can understand why I walked in at 8:00 a.m. and thought, if only briefly, that it must have been some bank holiday I was unaware of.
That was my Christmas. How was yours?
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
my holidays were good. they were quiet which was a nice change, but i did miss my family since i moved so far away from them. your high school legacies are cool. i don't think i left any...mmmmmuah