stories that survived drunken blackouts, constant pleas to realize the greatness of the music I listen to, child raising tales, and other things that might get me fired.
Matrix Direct, you're outta here! I am compiling quite an impressive lists of failed interviews; Nationwide, Liberty Mutual, Chartis, McMaster Carr, Scottsdale Insurance Company, Reliant General, Explorer, and now Matrix Direct, officially. So I've decided what the hell might as well go the agency route. Wednesday I'll be meeting with a company down here and Thursday I'll be hitting up one in LA. Supposedly the one in LA has a plethora of insurance opportunities so I'm hoping for the best. I had an interesting conversation with Nick regarding my interview approach and after fully digesting it, I have decided to switch up my approach. It is afterall basically like a sales pitch and I gotta spend more time trying to close on the job's duties instead of just speaking of my accomplishments as a supervisor. I spent all day today worried about shit and its idiotic really to worry about things you can't control- I just gotta be me. The only lame part is the bullshit worrying didn't really let me enjoy Knott's Soak City with my kids as much as I should have. We didn't make it yesterday because by the time we got there it would only have been open for a couple of hours, so we checked into Hugo's pool. I think the last time I was at a water park was when I was like 8. I think it was one in Utah of all places. Anyways the kids had a great time and really thats all that matters. The other factor that played into not enjoying soak city as much was the fact the previous evening was spent doing way too many shots of... Jager. Fuckin Jager. Never a good idea to plan an all day in the sun event after a night of heavy drinking. Whatever is left of your soul gets sucked out by the sun and water. And to top it all off, my back is burnt.
So Saturday night the Phoenix all stars paid San Diego a visit. Nick and Me Started our night at the Aeroclub while we waited to see if Del and Mike survived their attempt at skydiving.The place has been here since 1947 and its aptly named due to its proximity to the airport among other reasons. The bartender here was really nice and service oriented and we passed the time watching Garden State. .For some reason this part of town, including Golden Hill and South Park, is big on showing movies instead of sports. the Padres had lost and there wasn't much left in the sports world anyways. Issam was also in town as well as a couple of their other AZ buddies. Once we all met up we decided to hit up Dublin's square, one of the many bars in the gaslamp district. Gotta say the service was lackluster here. It was also here that I realized I'm passed my beer chugging prime. I actually finished third. End of an era. There was a time when I could finish a 40 in one drink. Those times are over. Let's be honest, there should have never been those times. Funny a few days ago I was talking about my Duck Down shirt that no one probably knew what it was. As we are all sitting there waiting for the waitress to come, One of Del's and Mike's buddies complimented my shirt. Even knew what it was. So I stand corrected. And by compliment I mean in a non gay way. I'm not D so I don't get hit on by gay guys. Just drunk lesbians. Anyways after Dublins Square, we ended up meeting up with Isaam's brother and hit up the Tivoli. Its the oldest bar in the gaslamp. This is when the Jager started to pour. Last call came dunno how many shots later, but this had not been the plan. The plan was to take it easy knowing that the next day was gonna be a day in the sun. Anyways we stumbled back to the car, but knowing that I wasnt fit to drive we had no choice but to find a Denny's. Santee is too far to make a less than sober drive regardless of one's drunken superpowers. So we ended up at the Denny's off Pacific Highway. I did however successfully avoid the southern omelette and instead went with a pot of coffee and a house salad. I was gonna go on and rant about the perils of drinking and driving and type up of my worst tale regarding that, but I'll spare the sermon, everyone knows its never good to do it. I will say that the patron saint of drunk driving must really like me because she has spared me from ever getting arrested or injuring anyone- just don't do it. I do the best I can not to myself. I need to go turn off the DVD player now since its been on the Empire Strikes Back main menu for like an hour and its driving me nuts.
I would like to apologize to the lady who I called a grenade whether she heard me or not. I watch all of 10 minutes of Jersey Shore and it gets me acting like more of a drunken asshole than I usually am. Sorry.
This is Brother Ali's Tight Rope. very excellent song verse 2 and 3 really speak to me.
This song here. Wow. I really dunno know if there is a more beautifully written song. You'll disagree, I know, but this is one of those songs I can never just listen to once. Once it comes on its on repeat for a few spins. I woke up this morning thinking about this song because last night I was watching this ghost show where they were showing the most terrifying places in the US. a Tattoo parlor was one of them. Also to make the list was San Diego's Whaley house. Anyways I was thinking about this because this morning I was clinging on to the edge of my king size bed. Apparently my kids decided this was one of those nights where they would sneak in and take over. I couldn't blame them, we had just watched some ghost stuff and even I sometimes find it hard to sleep. So I don't know why I watch these shows. What usually happens is that Fia will sneak in first, and during the night upon learning he's alone in the room Lil D will make his way over. I know this because a couple of times I will wake up during the middle of the night to get something to drink and it will just be Sofie and me in the bed. but come morning, I'm catching myself from falling off the bed. This still happens. I have tried locking the door, but I can't get myself to do it constantly as I still remember the time I was desperately trying to get into my parents room and they had locked their room. I had just had a terrible dream, it was dark in the hallway and I was balling because I was convinced a demon was in the hallway coming at me. Having unsuccessfully attempted to run to my parents to save me I had no choice but to run back to my bedroom and hide under the sheets. I got so scared I puked. We had had KFC (back then it was called Kentucky Fried Chicken cuz back then it was still America Damn it!) I remember that because I was soon no longer scared of the demon- I was scared what my mom would do when she found out in the morning that I had puked all over the bed. So in my attempt as a little kid to conceal the evidence, I went to the kitchen to find something to clean up my bed. The only thing I found in the dark were the wrappers that KFC corn on the cob used to come in, so I grab them went back into the room and attempted to clean my puke with it. After thinking I had done a good job, I threw the puke soaked wrappers in the trash, changed my pjs and went back to sleep. Thought I had done a pretty good job till the morning when, while I was in the backyard imagining I was some army soldier combating russian attacking forces ( I must have recently watched Red Dawn), I hear my mom begin cussing up a spanish storm and yell for me to come inside. She shows me the sheet and asked me what happened. I remember thinking that if I told her the truth, that I had puked because I had been scared shitless, she would have been more enraged. So I lied. Told her I had a bad stomachache and that I tried to clean it up. She then yelled at me for not having gotten her out of bed, obviously not knowing that I had been banging desperately on their door in the middle of the night. So while there have been times where I lock the door when my kids are with me, I usually don't, not because I'm afraid I'll have to clean up puke, but because I still remember that scared desperate feeling of being all alone in the hallway.
I guess in thinking back I could have woken up my brother, but he was like only 9 and to a 6 yr old, another little kid is a useless accomplice in the fight against evil.
Well I'm off to get in a workout before the kids wake up, also heading to Knott's Soak City before meeting up with Issam and them for a night of debauchery. And yes this is the only song I have been listening to while typing up this one...
I was playing this song today on the way to dropping my kids off at the boys and girls club. As its ending, Sofia says to Lil D and me
"this song is like the movie Labyrinth"
Lil D and me look at each other for a second. Lil D responds
" how so? that movie is about a girl who goes to save her little baby brother by going through a maze"
" Not the whole movie just the part where she has to solve the puzzle with the jesters with the shields"
then I remembered. She was exactly right. the part of the movie she is referring is exactly like the song. The girl ( who is Jennifer Connelly- who up until a couple of years ago was in my top 5. Only her age has her dropping) meets these two jester looking dudes one who always tells the truth, one who always lies. Its just like me to think that even though the speakers are right behind her, she wouldn't listen to the actual lyrics, but she does and thats not the best part.What I liked the best was how she was able to relate it to something she knows and likes. Again maybe this is only a dad moment that interests only me, but hey.
So last night- yeah that was a whirl. Started off at chilis by my cousin's house. We decided we were gonna go there way early before the padres game due to both our houses lacking AC and us needing to get out of the scorching hell that is east county. I needed a drink or 5 after an interview in which not only was the chic confrontational about my work experience, she also didn't listen very well. I'm not quite sure what makes them think I'm hoping to make the salary I'm was making when I am knowingly taking a step back, but thats how the interview started. Then she asked for what I did and any accomplishments. I replied I was a supervisor and besides typical supervisor stuff I was heavily involved in the on line endorsement project, I developed an intranet site, developed a training manual for underwriting and service, trained, and helped oversea two other departments, and that basically the underwriting supervisor position had been created for me. her reply?
"Those just sound like projects." I replied with " well I reviewed my departments time cards, had monthly meetings, audited productivity and quality, answered questions from every department including my own- things inline with a supervisor's position." Anyways it went back and forth like that, me pretty much defending my resume for a position I was over qualified for to start with. Then she pushed on what my old company would say, if they had anything negative to say. I told her they wouldn't have anything negative to say about my work ethic, the quality of my work or my willingness to take on more responsibility. I went on to say I had nothing but respect for the company and understood their decision to let me go as I spin a tale that the reason for my departure was that the owner had brought in someone that was replicating my job and he went with that person (as opposed to the truth - which my settlement agreement forbids me from writing and technically even discussing) instead of me since he had never even met me. her response?
" Oh I get it you just have no respect for your last company"
"NO! Thats the opposite of what I said!- I still respect the company, I helped it accomplish quite a bit- I understand it was the owner's business decision. I only regret not getting the opportunity to meet and discuss my status with the owner. There is no love lost."
Yeah whatever. A friend of mine works there right now and says he already wants to leave so I guess I wouldn't be missing much anyways. But still its frustrating- its almost like they read and hear everything I did at my last job and for some reason feel threaten. I'm the last person to think like that's the case but I felt that kind of at Mcmaster Carr as well when I asked about supervisors' roles and if the floor was split up in sections, and what training consisted of. 3 of the 5 people told me different ways of how training was conducted. Is it structured? Um its structured in that you have one on one with a trainer for a week. Hmmm. Anyways after this interview I'm expecting an email or another letter explaining they went with another candidate.
So Padre game at 7, we are there at 530. After a few tall ones, I decided to switch to good ol' apparently girly ass vodka tonics. I ended up getting invited to a poker game so I end up leaving. Except I forgot where I was going for a bit and stop by another bar. Order another vodka tonic, then switched to scotch cuz well I had to man up I guess. Get a call, its the poker game- I'm like half an hour late. I get there around 1015 sit down to hear them discussing hip hop and the greatest rappers of all time. I sit and listened til I couldnt stand it anymore and the hip hop snob came out of me.
" Tupac, Eminem, the Game are some of the best rappers of all time"
"biggie and nas too though and blah blah blah"
"Krs is one of the most underrated rappers ever"
I could only handle so much. Me not being sober, get in on it
"Tupac sadly was overrated. he was with digital underground for christ;s sake. The Game? really wow. and you can't really say a rapper is underrated when he's considered a hip hop legend. Now you wanna talk real lyricist? Ever hear of Ras Kass? Murs? R A the Rugged Man, Supernatural? Juice?"
" uh no."
"Then we really can't have this conversation."
Some one did bring up Kool G Rap though, had to give them that.
The song is step by step. By Eyedea. If you have never seen Labyrinth and won't bother to listen then the first part of this blog is meaningless.
This is the one that started my real fascination with hip hop. Prior to this song it was just casual listening to Too Short, NWA, early beastie boys and even MC Hammer (sad but true). Its was what the kids were listening to at the time and I was following blindly like a kid would. We had one of those big ass satellites that was supposed to get a million channels or what not, but it really didnt get shit other than some spanish stations. It did however get BET. and on BET was a certain show called Rapcity. All rap for like an hour or 2. back then it was the greatest show ever. I would record it while I went to play basketball and come back and watch all the videos when I got home. BET being headquartered on the east coast played a majority of east coast artist. Anyways the first time I watched this show was late at night. It was a rerun. I had no idea what I was about to experience. This video came on and right from the sampled horns I was hooked. Right then I knew the shit I had been listening to was meaningless. I had never known hip hop like this and from then on all I wanted to hear was this branch of it. I was the kid that would call radio stations and request these songs not fully realizing at the time they wouldn't play shit not on their playlist or on the top 40. What a crock of shit the radio is. The person answering the phone would just say " you got it" and my dumb ass would proceed to sit there and wait for hours waiting for it to come on. Maybe I should have asked for some PM Dawn. I don't know maybe the music people enjoy whether it be rap, rock, metal, jazz, etc... doesn't hit them as much as hip hop does me, but this really has played a part of who I am. Maybe it shouldnt have, but it did. I also remember the first time I went to New York and Hugo and me were waiting in one of the 100 lines you have to wait through to get to the top of the Empire State building and I happen to be wearing my Boot Camp Click shirt, which is like the affiliation group Black Moon is in. The guy working the line noticed it and told me "way to represent Brooklyn! Where you from?" "
"Man I'm from California- San Diego" guy was stunned someone from California would be rocking the shirt. I just recently purchased another shirt from these guys- its the Duck Down Man shirt, little dude in the front running with a target, which still to this day most people out here have no clue what it is. I'm keeping it short as I have hopefully my final interview at Matrix Direct morning and I'm tired from embarrassing myself at basketball tonight.
So I have my third interview Wednesday with the life insurance company. Decided I would need a new shirt and tie for the occasion. Now normally I would just head off to the Men's Wearhouse or some other fancy place where they have people that pair up the shirts and ties for you. But seeing as I am no longer in a position to be spending like that, I had to do it on my own. Being color blind makes this a tough thing. My dreams of being an electrician and pilot were dashed at an early age. I remember kindergarten still when it was time to draw your house, I colored my house's lawn orange. Everyone thought I was just being whimsical. I had tried to color the lawn green, but it just didnt look right to me. Then came the stop light project Red, yellow, green right? Well to me the red is red, but the yellow looks orange and the green looks white. I did not get the coveted check plus on this one. In real life its not a big deal because I know if the light at the top is lit up I stop and so on. And if I'm driving in Texas or some other moronic place that has their stop lights sideways, I know to stop when the light is on the left etc.. While on the subject of stop lights, I think its time LA dropped the attitude and started adding some left turn signals. traffic is already fucked- what's another 30 seconds to give a few people a safe left? I'm just sayin... Anyways after noticing the weird looks from my stop light I decided I needed just to conform with the rest of society's color correct ways.Only problem is that some of the little pricks would take the labels off the crayon and my ass would be S O L. Especially when it came to the purple and black crayons. My night scenes would usually be purple. I mean I can tell basic colors, like a solid yellow. But I am completely fucked when it comes to those fancy colors like mauve, tan, rainforest, and shit like that. So anyways there I am at the toilet store (Anchorman reference for you ). I guess I could have tried to make it simple but its not like I could go with the basic white shirt and black tie. Wasn't trying to look like an FBI agent, or worse a member of Best Buy's Geek Squad. Or Michael Douglas in Falling Down. Or a Mormon cruising the streets on a bike searching for converts. So I went with some white striped shirt which I hoped had blue stripes, and a tie which I thought had blue but ended up having purple on it instead. Anyways I got a second opinion. Turns out the tie is good, the shirt not so much. Thanks for preventing me from walking into the interview on Wednesday looking like a reh-tard.
I really don't like playing basketball at the gym- the game is lame there, just the people playing and their uppity ways. I almost played with my earphones on. I seriously thought about it. There is something admirable though about a guy who is 0-8 from beyond three but continues to shuck it up with reckless abandon. Nevermind I have position on my guy. Hopefully he applies that confidence in other areas of his life. Worse shooting form I've seen in a while too. Then there is of course the kid who only passes to members of his summer traveling team when he's not shooting from half court. Just terrible. I played a game in LA on saturday and at least there they passed me the ball once I made a few. You know how hard it is to get the ball passed to you when you are the sole non AA? Not in good ol Santee though. I had to clean up their shit after every missed shot. Fine with me. Got the ball passed to me once, maybe twice and yet somehow managed to score over half the team's points. I am contemplating playing tonight at the church except I don't have my basketball shoes- I left them in LA. I dunno if I want to play in my running shoes and risk rolling my ankle prior to my interview. If there is one category I have a chance in leading when it comes to basketball, its rolled ankles. I remember purchasing my Magic Johnson shoes back in the '90s thinking it would solve my ankle rolling issue. I might have been the only kid rockin them. Turns out it was most likely cuz they didnt do shit to prevent me from rolling my ankle every other day. Hey when you're a fat little kid who doesnt get the ball passed to you, you have to score somehow and that for me was trying to get every rebound possible. Fat kid+ running after rebounds = hall of fame numbers in the rolled ankles.
In the end it's kind of silly for me to have a favorite color seeing as I get it wrong half the time, but I guess it would be blue.
Riot! by Chino XL featuring Ras Kass. Probably the single greatest "one liners" track ever. One of those that has you rewinding to catch what they said. you know, if you're into lyrics and shit.
Woke up this morning on the floor to the sound of D snoring. it was like 730 in the AM. what only a few hours before had been a nice little swanky condo (furnished by Z gallerie) was now littered with beer cans, bottles of liquor and wine everywhere, bags of snacks, broken glass, cigarettes, bags of jack in the box, and 8 people sleeping all over the place. Luie sleeping off in the dining area, D, Wes, and me on the ground in the living room with D and Wes haphazardly sharing a blanket, and two up on the sofa bed. The plan was to hit up Redbull's Flugtag, which is not the air races, but this contest where people build weird ass flying contraptions and see how far they fly. They are all themed and the members of the team do this whole dance and presentation prior to launching their contraptions. Sounded like a good time. While the weather was excellent the lack of a belief in sun screen bit me in the ass. My refusal to wear sunscreen is not one of sound reasoning. Anyways gotta say it turned out to be a little bit overrated, if only because we didnt really have a good view of the contest, and none of the attempts we saw went anywhere. Kudos though to the 3 amigos themed one. The other thing the event is lacking is alcohol service. Large crowd though. I personally lost interest after about half an hour of being in the sun, crowd, and without a drink. Thankfully mostly everyone there was thinking the same and after a brief stop at a bar, we headed back for some swimming, and drinking action. At this point, the drinking escalated pretty quickly and a drowning seemed imminent. We were in the pool area pretty much from early afternoon to sun down. Again my lack of sun screen skills came back to haunt me. After sundown it was back to the condo for more drinking and then it was off to wander the streets of the LBC, well at least the parts where we were allowed to roam. 2 to 3 bars later, I can pretty much guarantee 100% in the group was out of commission. Anyways I have this thing where I tend to go off and wander the streets of an unknown city on my own. It happened again last night. Other towns this has occurred New York, Harrisburg, Phoenix. Normally when this happens I have to check the receipts to see where I ended up the next day. How I have survived drunk wandering without having been mugged is one of my life's little mysteries. Tonight it was Long Beach. I'm not sure where I went I just remember being in a bar where no one I knew was there, bought a shot, drank it, looked around and bounced. a little while later I was leaning up against some brick wall. I realized then I had a small issue- I didnt know what bar everyone else was at. I knew the street where the bar was somehow so I figured if anyone was still there from my party they would have to end up on the street eventually. So I posted up against a trash can and waited. Eventually this plan worked and after about 20 minutes, I found the group. Still trying to figure out which person punched me in the ribs. Good times.
D wins the award for most destroyed. Puya for best host, Luie for best Shaggy from scooby doo impression when I scared him by the bathroom, Bonnie wins the " I know who Vakill is" award, Wes for best picture haha. everyone else wins the award for coolest group of people to spend a Saturday burning in the sun with.
Raw life from the Foreign Exchange. quick little tidbit, The Foreign Exhange is Phonte from Little Brother and the Dutch Producer Nicolay. They didnt meet in person until after this album came out. They met on the Okayplayer boards and Nicolay would send Phonte beats over email and then Phonte would send his vocals back to Nicolay. Hence the name of the group, The Foreign Exchange.
I guess I'm gonna have to decide between taking along regular or chunky chips Ahoy tomorrow. I got called today from the life insurance company I interviewed with yesterday and I have another interview tomorrow. Guess the whole act like Red thing panned out. Dunno I think I learned from last week that until I hit the snooze button on the day I'm supposed to start work, that's when this whole ordeal will be over. Can't say it doesn't sound promising though...
I think I'm close to setting the record for most band aids used on a single wound. I mean I have even run through a box of transformer ones that Wes has at his house. This thing is like Clint Eastwood in Hang Em High- It just wont die...
It always amuses me when I walk into a Chinese restaurant and all the workers are Mexican...
I thought if I'm sitting in the sauna with my headphones on and texting away, that would be a pretty strong signal, I'm not really interested in holding a conversation. I mean its hotter than fuck in there and I just wanna get through the 15 minutes. My bad if I'm coming off as an asshole, but odds are we have nothing in common if you're 60 and you're rockin speedos...
I wonder if I'm the only one who has to start the song over that was playing on my MP3 player, in my car when I get in there....
I'm gonna have to speak with Sofia regarding her upkeep of my car's backseat. While I understand the occasional fry will end up on the floor, making my back seat look like the inside of Oscar the Grouch's trashcan is just terrible.
I'm trying to figure out what the highlight of my day was. It was either drinking 128 ozs of water, Brandon telling me he wanted to suck on my nipples, or the Padres beating up on the Cubs again- even though I couldnt watch it...
I thought up of a show today. Maybe its already on TV and I just have never seen it, but I thought of a show where a guy (me) goes and parties with tailgaters at all types of sporting events. I would have you stop me here if there has been a show like this before, but seeing as no one is here, Im gonna go ahead and continue. Obviously I would hit up football games, baseball, and basketball games, but I would also say I would hit up nascar and hockey, and fuck why not, even soccer and tennis. Everything from the debauchery of football tailgating to the pomp and circumstance at a Polo match. I would however always wear shorts, flip flops, and a shirt from one of my favorite music groups-regardless the weather. This would pretty much be my cheap attempt at getting free shirts from cool groups by explaining how I would promote them. I thought of this part over laundry today. I also noticed my Atmosphere shirt is ruined so I need a new one. But anyways back to my show. Basically see how different parts of the country do their pre game drinking and eating for different events. Then after this awesome show took off, we would take this world wide- English Premier league, Bundisliga, Spanish and Italian A series, Argentian, Brazil leagues (all these are soccer or non american football for those offended by the name soccer), Japanese baseball, Australian rules rugby, Indian Cricket basically sporting events around the world. It would basically be just hanging out with the average people and eat and get drunk with them. I of course would need bodyguards. Especially at events I would care less about (nascar, hockey, curling- I'm talking to you).
The things you think of when you're unemployed and trying to figure out a way to achieve your dream of traveling overseas...
Anyways Here is one from a man you might know- Phenom by the X to the Z. This is for those that wondered what else he did besides pimp people's rides. This man has been a bad motherfucker since Paparazzi - which he came out with in like '94.
I decided I needed a haircut today before my interview. I dunno what it is but getting a haircut is an ordeal for me. I think it's the whole staring at yourself in the mirror for 20 minutes while someone has cutting tools near your head and is attempting small talk. This small talk can be even more painful if the person can barely speak English.
" what your name?"
" It's Roy nice to meet you.Yours?"
"Rose? your name Rose?"
" Um, no. It's Roy what's yours?"
"Elroy? you no work today?"
"I'm actually heading to a job interview"
"Oh good you no work today. very nice day"
"Yeah it's actually kind of warm. I'm sorry I didnt get your name?"
(ignores me and stops cutting my hair to watch whats happening on TV- scene of Colorado cop beating up some doosh on a cell phone)
"What happened Elroy?" cuz apparently I have been watching a more detailed account of whats happening on the TV than her.
I also at this point give up on getting her name... "Looks like this police officer is beating a person on a cell phone for no reason. They are reenacting Rodney King for fun."
"Oh. nice day."
" Not if you were the guy holding the cell phone..."
" Very warm though huh Elroy"- obviously not getting my attempt at humor.
Turns out her name was Caitlyn.
Interview was this presentation slash series of exams. Then I interviewed with a sales manager who supposedly is gonna get me to speak with an underwriting one. Although there they call underwriters account specialist. Whatever. I passed on Carina's advice of cookies (because my cookies suck) and went with D's advice of Red and Shawshank Redemption.
This is Masta Ace's Da Grind for those of you working on this nice warm day.
So I just got a letter from McMaster- Carr. You can add them to my growing list of failed interviews. I'm really still trying to figure out where this opportunity went awry. I can only think maybe they were really looking for someone who could write Spanish better than a third grader. I really only wish that they would have been upfront at the end of the day since I'm pretty sure the last person to interview me knew I wouldn't be getting the job. In thinking back her last comment about some supposed background checks sounded too rehearsed- it just seemed out of place with the flow of the conversation. And since the letter was postmarked on Friday there is no way they would have gotten a background check report back- not that there is anything on it anyway to prevent me from landing a job. I dunno, oh well I sent them a thank you for the opportunity email since at least I got practice in interviewing. I do have another interview tomorrow and this one is more closely to my field anyway. It's just a terrible feeling to be so high on an interview you thought went extremely well only to get the wind knocked out of you. I guess maybe that's why I actually never think I do well in an interview, because my track record verifies that I don't. One can constantly think they are qualified for any job and that they can excel at everything, but the continual denials of job opportunities begin to take a toll- to the point where you begin to question everything on your resume and begin to go insane and come up with ridiculous conspiracy theories about whether your previous place of employment is somehow sabotaging your job search. Or that somehow even though you make your facebook page private and check to make sure a blog like this isn't easily found on the internet, they somehow find them, laugh, and then go nope. I have googled my name every which way to ensure this isn't possible but still... Or that they heard me playing my music too loud in the parking lot and it being adult contemporary hip hop, they did not approve. Maybe I should have played My best of Hall and Oates CD. Maybe they didn't like my shirt and tie combination. I knew I should have gone with the blue shirt and blue tie. I'm an extremely flawed person that is not a doubt in my mind, but when it comes to work and career wise I know I'm capable of excelling. Wasted talent. That's what I feel like. In the end in all honesty it's my fault. Do I blame everyone that's interviewed me? Nope. I just know that they missed an opportunity to get someone who would go that extra mile to help contribute to the company's success. I have missed an opportunity to make the best impression. Maybe I'm really not all that impressive. It's like I should just give up on a decent paying job and start thinking about taking multiple odd jobs. I think that's the route I'm heading towards. It's really crazy how this is panning out for me. A few months ago I was actually interviewing for Management positions within my insurance comfort zone. Now its coming to the point where I can't even land a glorified customer service position. It's like that same feeling of reh-tardness that I can't do something that the majority of Americans can do easily. Blah blah bottom line is I need a job ASAP- All this free time leads me to drink too much too often. This is really a strange part of my life.
Anyways I'm just glad I have my music to soothe me. Not music I actually write cuz that shits terrible or play cuz I can't. I'm talking about other people's music. I'm very into lyrics. word play. storytelling. Shit that has you making a fist, putting it to your mouth and saying "oooh shit! he/she really just say that!" why? cuz I'm a hip hop nerd. 95% of the time you'll find me listening to it all of the time. So I have lots of respect for the non hip hop groups that make up the other 5%- they actually have to be extremely bad ass to get me away from listening to hip hop. If there are bands out there anyone feels should belong to this 5% let me know. I am extremely uneducated- ignorant I guess- on music outside of hip hop (hence me never actually winning at the music game) Like Phonte I don't listen to the radio so I don't know what's on it. I do like Transfer, Moons, Black keys (I got mine is actually pretty close to cracking my all time favorite song list- I just actually had to pause my playlist and put that on), Hendrix- rock type shit. This part of my music catalog is obviously heavily influenced by D. Don't really do Reggae- I dunno know honestly tried to like it when I lived in Monterey and worked at the Wherehouse. Forced myself to listen and try to get some audio satisfaction from it, but it just didn't work out. and Yes I do really rock Hall and Oates. Brian and Nick got me into Sinatra, Dean Martin-rat pack shit. Basically though, it's very rare when I actually impress a girl with my jukebox selections. And its too often people stop and wonder what the hell is blaring from the speakers. But hey-That's my gift to the bar patrons. Just sitting here and typing away and listening to it has vastly improved my mood. To the point I'm getting off this couch now to hit the gym.
In the end I'm happy for the person who got the job, maybe they needed it more.
This is another LEGACY track, same dude who raps I'm nothing. I found it interesting that I posted I'm nothing when I was feeling good about myself and thought to listen to this track when I was feeling like shit earlier.
Way too much fun these last two days. There was the Padres taking 2 of 3 from the giants, Hitting the Hi-C-Era bar for some east county dive bar action, getting lost in new track housing, Golfing with the funnest 4 some, hitting the freeway not once but twice off the tee, walking into a restaurant taking over a table without bothering to wait to be seated, insurance rants, jobs rants, child rants, playing with the breathalyzer at the bar, making friends at the 67 and waking up in the most random of spots. If you're wondering I lasted 4 days on my first attempt at 45 days straight. Streak starts again today. Now its time to get serious as Monday has dawned and its not like i have the pockets to do that every weekend. Have another interview on Tuesday, hopefully get a phone call sometime this week about a job offer, and I'm back to hitting the gym.First things first, gotta- wake up nick from the couch.
This is Murs. Murs is better than your favorite rapper. He is also my best friend. I have the shirt to prove it. anyways perfect song to start the week and bring it back to reality.
So Wednesday I found myself hanging out at the DMV. Its the type of thing you do when you're unemployed. Actually I lost my license a couple of months back and bartenders and bouncers haven't always been comfortable in accepting my passport card. Honestly that's the main reason I decided to get a replacement. I always get semi confused as to where to actually start the process of waiting to be attended here and Wednesday was no different. Don't know if I need to get a number first or if I should start where the big sign that said "START HERE" was at. Yes that would be the obvious place to start but I didnt know if I just went up to the counter or if there was a number I needed to get before I walked up to the counter, or if there is a line just to get to the "start here" counter. I of course decide to just go to the back of a line hoping that that would be the correct line to start-whether it would lead me to get a number or to the start here counter. Sometimes my social anxiety kicks in and I just decide I'm going to follow the crowd even if it costs me an extra hour of waiting. I don't want to be like Michael Keaton in Mr. Mom when he's dropping off his kids at school and he's doing it wrong. I don't need the stress of being singled out for doing something wrong that the majority of America seems to be able to handle with ease. So I figure if I just stood in this line and followed the crowd, it wouldn't be so bad if by the time i got to the front, it'd turned out I was in the wrong line. That to me would be better than having to ask somebody or mistakenly cut a line and go straight to the counter where the "start here" sign was. Hey that's just how I roll. This was one of those times when I picked the right line. How did I pick it? I decided to go to the longest line which was actually going past the door and into the parkinglot. Normally most people with full time jobs wouldn't have this option since they have jobs to get to, but since I had no other plans but to hit the gym later, I wasn't exactly in a hurry. Plus I had my earphones and music so it was just another place I got to hang out and listen to it. Other than bars I usually end up taking my earphones everywhere. Anyways I was listening to some Murs when a phone call came. It came from an unknown ID so I naturally ignored it. They left a voicemail. I check it and it turns out it was from some company who found my resume on an online website. Having nothing but time, and figuring it wouldnt lead to anything anyways, I decide to call them while I was waiting in line. Turned out to be a good thing. After speaking with the company's recruiter for about 20 minutes (and barely getting anywhere in line), she surprises me by asking if I want to come in for an in person interview. Turns out the place is located in a section of LA called Santa Fe Springs and she wants to know if I can make it the next morning. She begins to check where I'm at and I quickly let her know that I would be coming from the LAX area. Figured Wes wouldn't mind me sleeping on the couch.
The company is a construction supply company with about half a million products. I show up thinking I'd be there for about an hour, go check out a Magic Johnson 24 hr fitness and head on back to San Diego. It turned out better than I expected- I actually ended up interviewing with 5 different people and staying there for 5 hours. I was tested on a few things and the 5 different people somehow managed to ask the same questions in a slightly different way. They were pretty much interested on why I left my previous job, was I ok with a non management position, and if I was one of those employees that was bitter towards their former employer. I was pretty much on I had an answer for all their questions (which Brian and me decided is an integral part of a successful job interview, haha) and everything went extremely well. I know it did because I hardly ever say that about any interview. I usually come off as either A) an asshole who thinks the company he is applying for is beneath him, or B) a bumbling dweeb that had no business being in the position he was previously in. Usually no middle ground. Until Thursday. About the only thing I can say went wrong is when they tested me on my Spanish WRITING. I can understand it, speak it, and read it. But write it? That's what online English to Spanish translators are for. I'm sure that part of the testing ended up looking like I had not quite completed the first season of Dora the Explorer. The 3rd person I interviewed with said not to worry about that part so much. The reason for that is because a major part of their business comes from Mexico. Anyways One of the supervisors that interviewed me saw me still waiting and implied everything was going extremely well if I was gonna be meeting with the last person I was to speak with. So hopefully this ends well and I can finally stop living off the State of California. I just got off the phone with a buddy of mine and he told me to start packing. Fuck that I ain't trying to jinx it. plus we didn't talk benefits, salary or anything like that and while the final person told me that they would be highly competitive with my previous salary, I still need to see what they mean by that.
Anyways after the interview grind, and having been there for longer than expected, I decided I might as well just stay an extra day, see what the remains of the day brought. My brother had gone off to band practice and I had planned to meet up, but it was being held in hollywood or parts somewhere around there and I wasnt feeling the drive out from where I was at. I decided to keep with my plans and hit up an LA Magic Johnson 24 hr fitness and check what it was about. After checking the basketball courts I knew I would not be playing on this day. Something about this will to live makes you sometimes make self preservation type decisions. It was also obvious I had never been here before as it took me a bit to find the treadmill and cardio area. The cardio room is actually located on the third floor and they actually have a nice view of the surrounding area. Well at least you can see the planes land at LAX, and you can monitor your car to make sure no one is about to break into it.
Turtles are faster than tortoises. trust me I'm a diamond club member at the San Diego Zoo
After a gym session, nap, and shower (and an ill advised stop at an AMPM) headed out to check out the phenomena that was turtle racing. There is a bar in LA (not sure quite what part) called Brennans and on Thursday they hold turtle races. For years I have heard of this from everyone I know that lives in LA but had never been witness to it until Thursday. I was expecting like a mini 100 yd dash type of set up where the turtles race in a straight line to a finish line, but its actually that they race from the middle of a circle to the outside of it. People can either rent a turtle to race or I guess bring their own ( don't know if there is steroid testing involved). Prior to each race the people who rented a turtle go to the middle of the circle to place the turtles there. There are two main rules. One, while the race is going on, you're not allowed to point at the turtles. There is a fine involved if you do and the race starts over again. The other involves the placing of the turtles in the middle of the circle. When its ladies that are doing the placing of the turtle down into the middle of the circle, they are not allowed to bend their knees. This vital rule is in place obviously for the male patrons of the establishment. If not done properly, a flag is thrown and the lady has to try it again. I made it out from ordering a drink at the bar (hey it was a special occasion as I had just done extremely well at an interview-don't judge me.) in time to see maybe the 4th or 5th restart of the same race. Again every time someone points at a turtle the race starts over again. I guess everyone should experience a turtle race once. But on Thursday the company was much better, so I quickly lost interest. The actual bar is pretty decent, other than the terrible band that was playing ( " Sugar Ray? really?"), which I believe they hire to purposely make the crowd head outside to watch the races.
I would like to take time to thank the old man who was carrying a license plate with him, for his part in providing the truth behind the stereotype of notoriously long waits at the DMV and to those who took part in the intervention of my late night Denny's southern omelette addiction.
This is L.E.G.A.C.Y.'s track, I'm Nothing. Trying to stay humble in hopes of a job offer next week.
he stops to find she's been on his mind
gym session interrupted- wait this can't be right
he was just there for an interview and a night
so he tries to comeback with lines from his play list
convinced he should just dismiss
the thoughts; confident he will- but still
has to catch himself from falling off the treadmill
utters to his brain " you both were drunk- don't take it to heart
think about it, you are seven apart
one simple conversation and you'll see there's no click
and plus- she mocks your "vodka tonics"
Its not too late, he can still make sense
he buys the first round- her drink, his brew
confused-she wasn't supposed to be this cool
she's casual, beautiful, Laker fan
and its multiple times she's tolerated his version of a drunk man- god damn
well this plan has backfired,brain going haywire
she even feigns interests in his turn at Jerry Maguire
and then he remembers the hip hop- shocking
there she was, Kings of Leon fan rockin Jay-Z
he relaxes- there's a 2 hr difference- he really can't be serious
new reason now to land that job,
so he can totally complicate this
he yells at himself to wrong this right
"what happened to the immunity of Kryptonite?
what happened to that drunken Arrogance?
...even if it did- you'd just mess it up Royally
you're quiet, shy, husky and only a lil bit Intelligent
funny, but nerdy, color blind, and slightly Neurotic
...the math just doesn't work- re do the Arithmetic"
and it was right there and then, with a laugh he drops his pen
and he realizes the mess he might be in
I fear this here little blog of mine is gonna take a turn for the worse. I need some Finding Forester " YOU'RE THE MAN NOW DAWG!" inspirational tutelage. Which by the way is probably my favorite Sean Connery line. D can have the " I FOUND THE CURE FOR THE PLAGUE OF THE 20TH CENTURY AND NOW I'VE LOST IT!" line. If you never heard D spit this gem out, go ahead and ask him to do it next time. The best worst Sean Connery impression ever. Anyways I fear this blog is gonna go to hell in a hand basket because as of Sunday this guy (thumbs pointed at me) is in full detox mode. Gonna go 45 days. Why 45? because 30 is way too pussy and 60- let's be honest- way too long. So that means no trips to the bar to watch the lives of people, go down in flames, and then drunkenly type on it. This obviously has other advantages than health ones- I mean my finances could take a break from the expense of near nightly drinking, and it has surely come to the point where its my turn to be a designated driver as I don't think I ever have been one. So- BAM! consider me your taxi if you need one.
But this leaves me with nothing but mundane typing left.I am sure I could fill this with plenty of times dating back to grad night when I was Roy "sober grad" Delacruz. I guess I could rehash old drunken stories, such as when I decided to take a leak down an embankment fell and got grass stains on my clothes and tree branches stuck in my head. Then when asked what happened I concocted this story of having been run over by a limousine.
Or I could talk about the time I had just left a bar down at the gas lamp, and was walking back to my car only to have some guy with a little poodle mace me for no reason,
Or the time D, Nick, and me celebrated the chargers' thrashing of the Titans by drinking 2 bottles of tequila in about an hour in PB.
Or the time I went to Pennsylvania for a job interview and came back having been banned from ever renting a car with the Avis family of rental companies.
Or the time I went to a Mike Ness concert in Santa Cruz and got hit on by a lesbian whose girlfriend was there and the girl I was with had to step in before the girlfriend attempted to push me (that was the first time I got hit on by a lesbian, fyi). The girl I was with would later then get a ticket for peeing a public and the other cop who wasn't filling out the ticket and me were just dying laughing about it...
More recently there was the time in Phoenix where I was actually lost at 3 am and had no idea how to get back to my friend Issam's house...
There was the Chicago trip where Nick, Hugo, and another buddy were threaten with Jail for getting outta control on the plane and later when on the way back to the airport the cabbie ran out of gas and we missed our flight...
The San Felipe trip where I never made it to town and just stayed at the rental house the whole weekend...
The many countless Vegas trips including the one where D and me spent the ride back spitting out Haikus on my cousin's stripper/cell phone incident...
The Miami trip where Nick, my cousin and I were maybe sober for a total of 3 hours that weekend and the phrase " Lets go team- The drinks are not gonna drink themselves!", was first uttered (by me of course)
Oooh yes- The Miami tale I believe is the tale to begin with. But not now cuz well I feel like watching a movie and it took over an hour just to get to this point.
Since I have been free to roam the internet I was able to track down a collection of Atmosphere songs I hadnt yet added to my collection. Once that happened I went back and started listening to all their other stuff hence their domination of titles of my blogs. Yeah if you haven't noticed, I am pretty much a fan of their entire catalog and on many a drunken night you will find me interjecting their verses into any conversation I'm having. I will eventually expand however to show off the other awesomeness of the other groups I listen too. This one here is correctly titled " Bird sing why the cage I know" I didn't get dyslexic all the sudden.
Its 4 am and I have just awoken from a terrible dream. I'm gonna go ahead and blame it on the Jager shots. I have sat here debating whether I should write about it. Screw it why not. Well I know why not, because I think normally dreams aren't great writing material since they tend to have plot lines only the dreamer will actually have a clue what it pertains to and after reading it, it'll just sound ridiculous, after-all its just a dream. But whatever here it is.
I was walking home from the park with my kids. We are right next to my house when I see a disturbing site. All of the sudden all of the birds and flying insects in the area start flying away in the same direction. I immediately recognize this as a sign some impending natural disaster is gonna occur so I rush my kids into the house, which isn't the best idea but at this point I just want to be together with everyone who is in the house. As we walk in the earth begins to shake- but this is beyond an earthquake. This is on some end of the world type shit. Walls come down all around my kids, my mom and me. I get on the phone and start trying to call people who I feel should be with the kids and me if this is in fact the last moment of life. Their mom, my brother, my cousins. The shaking stops and I notice the house is no longer structurally safe So I lead my kids to the front door. As we approach, I realize all the neighborhood dogs have gone nuts from all the shaking- I figure they must know the end is near too- and they are blocking the door preventing us from leaving the house like wanting to attack. Just then a group of people walk by and the dogs go after them, clearing a path. Where are we going? The world is ending so my only thought is to try to get everyone together so that at least when it does all end we are at least together. The kids at this point can see through my lies that everything is gonna be ok. They have seen enough TV to know whats happening. Mom is crying. Kids are crying. Extreme Helplessness and Sadness come over me at the realization there is nothing I can say or do to protect my kids and that they will never have a chance to live their lives. All the other visions in the dream- torn up roads, blazing fires, anarchy, and bodies as I try to drive everyone to some meeting spot pale in comparison to these thoughts. This is where I woke up. One of the few times waking up alone in your bed feels good.
Damn the History channel for its gripping shows on 2012. haha.
Anyways lets go back to how it came that I was shooting down Jagers. It was my friend Brandon's birthday today. I was supposed to show up to a friend's house for some horseshoe tournament at noon. For some reason yesterday like today, I was awake at 4. I don't like this being up at 4 crap. This is the time when I'm locked in my room and it feels like I am the only person alive. To fight this feeling I usually turn this laptop on and read the news just to reassure myself that, outside the walls of my room, life is going on. But now that I'm typing again, I'll pass the time doing this I guess. Anyways so yesterday I was up at 4. Decided to type some stuff, apply for some jobs, read up on some news. around 10 I decide I could really go for some more shut eye. Didn't end up waking up till 3 pm. Crap. Notice the missed calls from Brandon and know I'm in for some massive shit talking for not being there at noon. With no time to eat anything, I quickly shower and head on over. Everyone there had a 3 hour head start in the drinking and are definitely acting like it. Its funny what a group of men do when they have gotten permission slips from their wives or girlfriends. Since its a rare occasion they tend to go all out. Beer and liquor everywhere. Different contraptions on how to drink said alcohol. fireworks going off. It's pretty much guys wrestling and ending up rolling their ankles type of stuff. Hell I dunno maybe this is just how east county acts, but it is highly entertaining. The house we are all at full with games men play- darts, pool, horseshoes. The betting on darts is loser has to do shots of whatever. Tonight my lack of darts skills had me taking shots I usually avoid. Actually I'm not that bad at darts but everyone here is apparently British. These loser shots are in addition to all the birthday shots we have done in honor of the man of the hour. The majority of the guys here I've known since high school. It is actually cool to catch up with them and see what they have been up to. The second leg of the festivities was to occur at the Oaks- The only decent bar/club in Santee. Its actually a country club but on weekends the place turns into roadhouse. The only positive was that the people I was hanging with tonight are usually the ones doing the ass kicking and name taking. But on this night the lack of food and the drinking get the best of me. I ended up not making it to the oaks.Yeah I'm sure I gonna get more shit talk about not making it, especially when I told them I was on my way, but as soon as I got home (I was gonna change into appropriate oaks attire) my body made an executive decision and promptly passed out on the couch.
I'm just gonna assume this is the sign from the Long Beach one.
I figure since My body decided to be up so damn early on this Saturday and I have nothing else better to do I figure I would type up another one of these things. quick hits:
Entrepreneur opportunities Nick and me thought of on the way home -which led me to miss two exits and caused me to have to turn around- for me if I don't get hired soon; I decided that I'm moving to costa rica. I figure there has to be a job for a guy that speaks both english and spanish. I was thinking I would be one of those guys that stands in front of a bar and brings the tourists in. I figure with me being fluent in english, that would give me the edge over the other guys doing the same thing. Other opportunities;
My future job.
coconut carver
spider monkey trainer- I'm pretty sure if a spider monkey got out of line I could kick its ass.
guitar maker
one of them dudes painted in gold that doesn't move
Panther Hunter- which would lead me to the cologne industry as I could then begin making my own version of sex panther.
Anyways, so Thursday Nick and I found ourselves drinking in Long Beach at the yard house. Yes, most of these will probably start with Nick and me drinking somewhere or Brian and Me, or Brian, Nick, and me drinking somewhere. We were there early to catch the padres game before going to San Pedro (pronounced Peedro- apparently spanish speakers have it all wrong when pronouncing Pedro) to see The moons and the Paperplanes play. Now the yardhouse is a fabulous establishment, but not one where you really want to put in some drinking work and drink there for 4 hours. But thats exactly what Nick and me did. Its a good thing for good people since we were then offered a ride to our next stop which would be a mexican place called the green onion or " La cebolla verde" for those who prefer their mexican restaurants to have a spanish name. We met up with some more good people and proceeded to hold discussions ranging from homosexuality to my shirt to this snap on wrist bracelet thing.All over cadillac margaritas which is basically a margarita with a shot of Grand Marnier thrown in for good measure. Good times. Soon it was time to hit up this place called Harold's which on internet sites was getting a bad rap. a deserved one, but still one kind of has to experience it for oneselves to see if it is truly deserving of such slander. or libel. whichever one is the one that stems from writing. The place is a genuine dive bar but with non dive bar beer prices. That really is an unforgivable combination. But the company was excellent, the noise from the bands was cool and the place didnt seem to mind that for a bit I had my shoes off. The night ended with me forgetting to advise Puya that I had not in fact driven there, there fore there was no need for me to have given him my keys and for him to be looking for my car and a little after party at Wes'. Nick and I held to our pledge not to stop at a Denny's and in the morning realized that was an excellent tactic. For there was more drinking to be done on this lovely Friday.
We ended up going to O'harley's to meet up with Brian for lunch and some beer, then proceeded to go to Walmart to look for The Life and Times of Tim season 1. That was a fail. We did however score Season 4 of It's always sunny in Philadelphia and a case of beer. I hadnt been to a walmart in about 2 years and didnt know they are now distributors of the alcohol. Anyways, after a marathon session of IASP a few beers later, Brian and Nick take me to one of the most glorious bars in the history of bars. It's in Encinitas. Beachside Bar and Grill, congratulations! you are now officially top 3 favorite bar of all time. The ambiance is majestic, the talent is top notch, the beer of the month is Pacifico and it was only 4 dollars for 22 ozs of gold, they broadcast all the UFCs for free, they have channel 4 which means they play all the padres game, and to top it all off, Junior Seau was there. BANG! Done! thats how its done in the Bar owning business world. It was at this bar that I was told of another money making opportunity for me- Brian and Nick thought of starting up a magazine dedicated to searching out the best and worst bars in America. I would have a column where I would write up what occurred during my bar hopping nights out and then someone who was with me would write their own column explaining what actually occurred. No matter the venue I would always be in a Tux (monocle optional I guess). We figure this will soon spin off into a reality tv show where the camera will follow me around on these adventures. I'm gonna pitch this to my cousin who is in show business. No site seeing, no travel trips, no food pairings, just the best dive bars, sports bars and classy bars in every city.
And if these bars have drinking challenges, well lets just say I am to alcohol what Adam Richman is to food.
You might be wondering about whether or not I am actually listening to the song that are the titles for these blogs. The answer is yes. Do they come up randomly right when I'm about to start typing? not always. My first two titles yes because I had just downloaded the album and have been playing it constantly. These two from today? They came on on the way home from LA and decided they would be titles. This title is from Felt 2 and Slug's verse is one of my all time favorites...
"I'll take you anyway that I can have you- bring along your ethics and your issues and your taboos..."
So I've just spent the night drinking with Nick. I have been thinking of what to write about tonight. Tomorrow is D's show in San Pedro and I'm just trying to show love by writing nothing but positive vibes about that. But its hard when you're are genuinely drunk. Which I am at this hour. But that doesn't deter me. I am in my own mind the greatest writer no one has ever heard of. So with that in mind and when I say "that in mind" I mean my own mind because thats where I am at my most awesomeness, lets start this typing shit. Where was I? Oh yeah I was drinking with Nick. We were at this place in North Park called the West Coast Tavern. nice place. actually has a movie theater and on mondays you can go there buy a pint and watch whatever they happen to be playing on the silver screen. But tonight is Wednesday and its dead. I don't remember it being dead on a wednesday before but then we did just show up at 11 pm. I assume the place is haunted since its been here since the 1920's, and fuck yeah I believe in ghosts I saw one on the queen mary once. The restrooms are actually the movie theater restrooms so you have to go back into the old part of the place to pee. I am convinced one day I'll go back there and while I'm peeing some ghost of a forgotten movie star who isnt cool enough to haunt Hollywood's famous spots will show up here and scare the fuck outta me. Like if Scott Bakula were dead he would come out of the bathroom wall and scare me to where I pee all over the room. I would still wash my hands though cuz well Scott Bakula would want me to. The bartenders here apparently make a mean mojito because thats all I saw them make tonight. I also noticed that Wednesdays is bourbon night.
*Editor's notes- The above is what I wrote on Wednesday night. The editor is me by the way. I have no idea what my point was and seeing that nothing exciting happened on Wednesday, I'll just end this one with my Queen Mary experience. I guess I'll consider this my halloween special. Yeah its August but fuck it. Oh and Scott Bakula is still alive, I don't want to be one to be starting celebrity death rumors like the schmucks who keep saying Bill Cosby is dead. Scott Bakula was the star of Quantum Leap by the way. I have the theme song stuck in my head right now.
Anyways on with the queen Mary story.
So back in 2006 I spent the night on the Queen Mary for my birthday. I am a man of history-love reading about shit that happened long ago. With this interest in the past comes an interest in ghosts. Please note my omission of the word paranormal. I'm not a EMF detector carrying, vortex hunting, EVP listening dweeb. I just happen to watch the shows. Alright fine I am a dweeb. Anyways yeah like I stated earlier I believe in ghosts. in 2005 I was at Gettysburg and took my son on a ghost tour which was nerdy but fun. A few years prior I was in New Orleans and went on a ghost tour there. During those tours never saw a thing but would highly recommend them anyways because the stories told during the tours are entertaining. Plus in New Orleans the tour was in the french quarter and half way through it we stopped at a "haunted" bar. where I proceeded to have a few "haunted" beers and hurricanes. The queen Mary though was more than just a tour. It was this stay the night package that included dinner on board followed by a tour of the boat. Having been on previous tours where nothing obviously happened, I had no worries other than worrying if I would be able to finish 2 bottles of wine before the tour started. I must admit though that our room was supposedly on one of the most haunted levels of the boat and I refused to close the bathroom door while I showered to get ready for dinner. Anyways after dinner the tour started. everything was going well, the stories were interesting the locations they took us to were pretty cool, but no ghosts were to be found. Until they took us (it was a tour group of about 20 I'd say) to a part of the boat way down below that used to serve as a stage where there would be nightly shows. They proceeded to take us into the room the actors would use as a dressing room. The tour guide who is supposed to also be a medium then proceeded to tell us that alot of ghosts tend to hang around in the room especially an ex worker named harry. She then turned off the lights and and had us sit there for a bit. I was one of the taller people in the tour maybe one other person taller than me. Anyways I am sitting there with my eyes open looking at the tour guide as she spoke about this Harry guy a little more and how he's sometimes nice and sometimes not so much. As she's speaking this shadow begins to block my view of her. I naturally first think its just another person who is just walking towards the back of the room where I'm at. Then I realize this shadow is moving too fast and is instantly right in front of my face. Again there is maybe one person taller than me in the group and that guy was in the front by the tour guide still. this shadow person is actually looking down at me a bit and starts to come in closer to look at my face. I decided that now was a good time to yell " who the hell is in front of me!" not giving a damn how much of a puss I sounded like. I also decide that now is a good time to close my eyes and look down. the other people on tour I guess initially thought I was just being a puss until a big ass bang sound happened a couple of seconds after I yelled. This caused the tour guide to turn on the lights and when I finally opened my eyes again people were asking me what I saw. What I saw was a shadow of a man over 6ft tall- taller than me anyways and I'm 6 3, and bald. Turns out this harry guy is about that tall and was bald. Hey I'm just typing what I saw. Later I would be talking to the one of the other tall guys in the group and he would say he saw the same thing and thought it was me. As if I hadnt been scared shitless enough, we later went to the old pool- that one pool they always show on tv when they do a ghost special. the tour guide took us to the ladies shower room and told us to get into an individual stall. I said fuck that and went into the same stall as my ex. anyways she starting talking about a ghost of an older lady that cruises this shower area and tends to come out one of these stalls. All of the sudden she tells us to look out from the stall to the back of the shower area. All the tour members were at the front of the shower area and as we look towards the back we she the head of a lady looking out of one of the back stalls. There were no old ladies on the tour there is no entrance from the back so unless they have an old lady hanging out all night there until the tour comes through... anyways like I said I'm just typing what I saw. At this point I was no longer looking forward to staying the night in my room.Needless to say I slept with the light on and TV on.
The " I ain't afraid of no ghosts!" line does not apply to me.
Tigallo for Dolo is a song off Little Brother's last album, Leftback. One of my favorite tracks of the year. Phonte does a helluva job explaining his mind state at this point in his career.
So I have been spending this week just hanging out with my daughter because my son Danny (from here on known as Lil D) was awarded a free camping trip from the boys and girls club for exemplary behavior. Not that my daughter Sofia is evil, she was just too young to go. Some of you whose pleasure I have had to hang out might wonder how thats possible coming from a drunken degenerate. Others who haven't but might end up reading this blog on a continuing basis and ingest the drunken tales, might also end up wondering the same thing. To explain since 2006 I have basically been two different people. My kids split time with my ex and me- one week I have them the other week the ex does. Which for me means one week I'm the drunken degenerate the priviledged most likely have seen, and the other week-well why be modest- I'm a top 5 dad. I wouldn't say top dad because there are the Bill Cosby's, Al Bundy's, Billy Ray Cyrus' in this world, and of course your dad. And who am I to say I was better than your dad? Anyways to get back on point, its just been Sofia and me this week. We have gone to Disneyland, the Zoo, Cabrillo National Monument, and Old Town San Diego. I did it so she wouldnt miss her brother so much (they are very close right now) and also so she wouldnt feel left out of the camping trip. The funny part about old town is that she remembers from when she was 3 when I took her to this little taco shop in old town the last time I found myself retired for some lunch. She wanted to go back there today and sit in the exact same spot. I found this funny and amazing at the same time because not only did she remember the exact table we sat at she also remembered what she ate- a quesadilla. It's amazing to me because since this afternoon I have been trying to remember any memory from when I was 3 and I can't. I don't know if its because of all the alcohol I have enjoyed during my 16 yr drinking career or if its just because she was 3 only 4 yrs ago. But then I can't really remember any basic average thing such as where i sat at a restaurant and what I had to eat from 4 years ago either. I'm sure there is some child psychologist, pediatrician, dream interpreter, or wizard that can easily explain it away, but such as I am not any of those- I am gonna go ahead and stay amazed by it.
Last Monday was my dad's birthday 7/26. He has not been with us since 2004, but that hasnt stopped me from celebrating it. Actually one of the things I regret (those who say to live with no regrets are full of shit. I think you ain't living if you havent regretted doing some things in life but I digress) is not hitting a bar or two or 1000 more with him. So I decide to hit the turf club. This used to be D's (my older brother) spot since he used to live only a block away from it. It is located in a section of San Diego called Golden Hill and the name of the bar comes from the time when this neighborhood was an affluent part of the city and residents would come here after a day at the Del Mar race track. Or at least that is how I remember the story. So anyways I go in planning on having a pint of Bass or 3 and to listen to some Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, and some Sly and the Family Stone. The bar is average for a Monday night I'd say- cant really honestly remember last time I had been there on a Monday but there was plenty of space at the bar I sit down and right as I finish my first pint, this girl wearing a back pack sits two stools down from me. Average would be the rating with short brown hair- the type of girl that would go into a bar full of men unnoticed. She orders a beer and I turn and say hello and leave it at that. About ten minutes later a very beautiful girl comes in and take the seat between me and the back pack girl. As soon as this girl finishes her drink back pack girl jumps on it;
" Wow you are really beautiful I just wanted to let you know that. and yes I am lesbian and know you're probably not but I just wanted to let you know. I had to be honest"
The beautiful girl shyly replies thanks and has polite conversation with the backpacker for a few minutes before her boyfriend sees me and instantly tells her there is a better spot at the end of the bar. The man has no idea its not me he should have been worried about. The girl picks up her drink says her goodbyes and is off but this does not deter back pack girl and she follows. I am greatly amused by this and occasionally look over to see the outcome to this lil tale. BP girl ends up striking out and ends up alone at the end of the bar and I continue to hang out at the bar with another pint. about a half hour later i hear
" Hi is it ok if I talk you?" I turn to see its none other than back pack girl
" no need to ask I'm just unwinding from a day of job hunting and am not doing anything but guarding this bar-stool" She proceeds to thank me like twice for having a conversation with her. This would be my first red flag. after finding out she was a librarian at UCSD and the required generic dewey decimal point joke, she proceeds to start off the next topic of discussion with this:
" Is it cool that I'm bi-sexual and from Toronto?" red flag number 2. She tells the other girl she's straight lesbian and proceeds to tell me she's Bi? and what the fuck does the fact that she's canadian have to do with anything? Should I start the Strange Brew references? Do I need to think about who was the better hockey player Gretzky or Lemeiux? I dunno I really had no other reply to that other than " that's totally cool- Toronto huh? Have you been to Kingston? I was there once." from there I find out she was heading back to Toronto after failing to assimilate to San Diego, had been recently arrested for a DUI after a night out of looking for a girlfriend, and that she was a fan of Weeds. Great. I have to insert that about every 5 minutes she's thanking me for talking to her and starts buying me drinks. I am a modern man so I have no problem with this. She then starts planning the rest of our evening without even asking for my input- I am gonna drive her back to her place and we are gonna have some type of canadian beer. I have no objection at this point as only two red flags have been put up and hey she was a librarian afterall. I excuse myself to go pee. This is when red flag 3 comes up. I walk back to her accusing me of having stolen her lap top and is interrupting other patrons- who are enjoying dinner mind you- screaming that I have stolen her shit. Right when some guy is about to step up and ask me if I had stolen it I calmly point to her back pack and go maybe her fucking laptop is in there. She realizes then that she had never taken off her back pack and that I obviously hadn't stolen it. She tries to act like she didnt just call me a thief and goes back to the plan of me and her going to her place. She excused herself to go to the restroom. My brain makes an executive decision over the rest of my body to close my tab and get the fuck out while I still am a free and alive man. I can only imagine what the fuck would have happened if I had woken up next to her. This by the way is the third time a drunken and/or drugged out lesbian has come on to me.
I dunno maybe its my cologne.
Inside Outsider is another Atmosphere track from Sad Clown Bad Dub II, for those of you who need introduction to a healthy dose of good music.
So I have decided to start writing my random thoughts again- I figure with all the free time I need another excuse not to go to the gym. I used to have a myspace but didn't want to be the oldest one up on that site, plus- well I don't really know the plus- I guess it's just too much to try and keep up with all these network sites- even if you're in the midst of a current forced retirement such as me. So I decided to keep the facebook and twitter (even though I hardly use that one either- I mostly have it to check what Rodney from The life and times of Tim has to say). So being that Facebook doesn't have a spot for blogging... So quick bits of info; I always hated taking time to actually come up with a title for these things, so I have decided this time around that I would just name them after whatever song i happen to be listening to. Today's title is an older song from Atmosphere that has been on repeat since last night. I'm not big on using apostrophes or capitalizing names- hope that doesnt bug you. As I type that I laugh since I dunno who even is going to be reading this- no one is my guess. Anyways this here will be heavily influenced by the music i listen to, the books i read, the musings of my kids, my drunken misadventures(don't ask me why they are misadventures, it just sounded provocative to me), and the weeks events such as this upcoming Thursday's show my brother is playing. The only real news will most likely come from the sports world and shit that really really bugs me and unless some life altering 2012 doomsday thing occurs,in which case if this site is still up that might be a sign that I really was some sort of god after all. I also don't watch to much tv other than the History channel, natgeo, the travel channel and A&E, so if you were looking for thoughts on shows everyone tells me is so awesome and that I need to dedicate 3 weeks to catch up with the prior 4 seasons I didnt watch... yeah thats not gonna happen. I rather be out having a beer. Shows like the aforementioned life and times of tim, eastbound and down, its always sunny in philadelphia though... Anyways I guess what I'm trying to say is that I type (wouldnt call this writing that would minimalize real authors' work) I was gonna say I type for me but that sounds too pompous and not all entirely true. I guess I just am bored and really do need an excuse not to a productive member of society. Damn it now I feel like I have to have some value... so I guess from time to time I will shell out unsolicited auto insurance advice to make it feel like i have contributed. ha like auto insurance advice is a meaningful contribution. Oh I almost forgot not a big fan of paragraphs either so I only start a new one when a completely new topic comes up- like now
So anyways in an attempt to appease people who stumbled upon the title of my blog and thought it would include tales of times I drunk dialed, I will if I remember to throw up instances of the many incredible ways I tend to strike out with the opposite sex. I'll end it with what made me think to start this thing up again. its a collection of thoughts that just happened to rhyme...
my game? well sometimes it works but mostly it doesn't
so I usually spend my time hanging with my cousins
watching sports at a bar discussions irrelevant
avoid politics and anything newsworthy though shits never boring
and the beer after next will be the one that ends my story
They're too young to ask what happened to their life
I'm too old to go out with them that night
so I teeter totter on the verge of regret
but by morning its thoughts of what bar to hit next
swear my life is so complex but thats just a myth
I just have more time than my money can deal with
so I just keep waiting for multiple phone calls
one my future ex girl the other future ex boss
if I'm really lucky they'll be one in the same
but they dont come and that brings it back to the same theme
my incredibly immense lack of self promoting game...
