Quote of the century

Theo Epstein on The 2004 World Series Trophy's (must be spoken like "student/athletes" refer to the Ohio State University) worldwind tour:

"I try to keep my distance from it. I don't want to catch anything. That thing has been passed around more often that Paris Hilton." Oooh burn!

And it's so true. Tomorrow at work The 2004 World Series Trophy is making its rounds and right around 3:15 I should be having my picture taken with it. Guess you know what picture is going to be on my Christmas cards.

Amateur night at the Apollo

Highlights of poker night with JFo, Flappo and JD:

• Cute Blond telling us that the Red Sox signed Mo Vaughn?!?!?!
• Only cool guys wear track jackets
• Stone cold bluffing for sport
• The conclusion that we should join the 4-H Club, as a good portion of the night was spent discussing our respective idiosyncrasies regarding fruit and vegetables, the most optimum way to ripen bananas and the joy of fresh corn on the cob.
• JFo being able to say "Boys, I have the nuts."
• During a lull in conversation and at JFo's demand for more "guy talk", I recalled the time " I was goalposting this girl when my roommate walked in" which promptly lead to: 1) quizzical, bemused stares, 2) a pen and paper rendering of what exactly "goalposting" is and 3) the conversation returning to the merits of fresh produce.
• Milking out my stack for the better part of a Saturday night.

Conclusion:
Losing on 5th street when I had pocket Cowboys leaves a sick taste in my mouth, but thank heaven for low stakes and good friends.

Isn't this a fitting UD definition for the last 25 minutes of a Friday :

Internet anytime minutes

What office workers use when they are being the "most productive" at their jobs.

T-roy looked at the clock and said, "Well, boys, I have two hours left to do absolutely nothing! The web don't surf itself! It's time to use up some of my Internet anytime minutes to look busy!"

With Opening Day a little bit a month away and my need to still decorate my cube I have a query. What Red Sox player bobblehead should I get? I own a Nomar and a Pedro one, but I can't put up one of those for obvious reasons. I have a Trot Nixon one, but quite frankly he looks like generic white dude bobblehead. I don't think I want a Curt Schilling one and I haven't seen what an Ortiz one looks like. Maybe a Manny?

Or if I do want to go the Pedro and Nomar route, I'll have to get a Mo Vaugh and Rocket Clemens one to complete the Great Sox players who have left the team in infamous fashion within the past 20 years Collection.
What would definitely be cool is one of those Peter Gammons ones that espn.com had for sale a while back. Looks like I'll be trolling eBay over the next week or so.

Any other suggestions would be great.

Lone wolf

Well with both of my roommates MIA of late, I've had the apartment to myself for the better part of the week and I've come to some realizations. I have always balked at the idea of living by myself, but it does have its merits.

A quick forecast of how life would be sans roommates:

I would sleep less, but at the same time I would be more productive. I would never take a shower before 12 AM. There would be one half of my house that would be Spartan and under utilized, except in the cases of courting the fairer sex. Spending the evening hours wearing a bathrobe is a luxury most people do not know. Shining my shoes will become a weekly habit. I will attempt to increase my tolerance for alcohol, but it will still be a losing battle. I will do push-ups while watching tv; which will always be on, regardless if I am in the room or not. I will have only have two sets of dishes that I will eat off of and one glass , which I will only drink water out of, will last me for 3 days. I will take a stab at a new recipe once a week, but the most organic thing in the house will be Crest toothpaste. And going for walks at night will once again become second nature to me.

So in conclusion the idea of having roommates until the day I get married probably isn't going to happen. But looking back at what I just wrote my personas will alternate between eccentric recluse and brooding. Sweet!

See you soon girls.

It's that time again: DRUNK BLOG RAMBLING

Today's rendition will be extra bitter as I am taking to smoking as well as obviously drinking. I wish I had more Jack left in my flask, something a little bit harsher, as the Stoli Watermelon and Amaretto sours just aren't leaving me as embittered as Frank would want me to be.

First random thought: As much as I hate the sound of my roommates cat's meowing, I hate the smell of its cat food even more. I can't get the stink off my hands. Teach me for feeding it.

I love living with my girls to no end, but I think I really need to find some guy friends. Some quality play video games, watch sports, make bad jokes, be racist/sexist/elitist bastards with. It's weird. I am definitely enjoying living and working at the new job, but things just seem a bit off.

Talk about a depressing night. I made myself dinner and proceeded to watch Game 2 of the WS. That should have cheered me up, but hearing McCarver and Buck again, wasn't really worth it. So I ended up watching Faith Rewarded! That'll always do it.

I think I'm really putting too much stalk into this whole dating thing. In the sense that it is fun, but I don't know what's worse. Being that guy who is trying to find a girlfriend or the guy who is just content to be single. Don't get me wrong, I'm not throwing away my set and joining the cloth anytime soon. But I'm definitely off the smitten, lovey dovey bandwagon for a while. At least until the next pretty thing wallks by...

So seriously I used to have this streak back in freshman year where I was meeting a new person everyday. It was the start of college and I was going to meet as many damn people as humanly possible. Guy, girl whatever. I either got a number, a hug, a handshake or had lunch with a new person from move-in day till 4 days after Thanksgiving break. Ask Matt if you don't believe me. I was the Cal fucking Ripken of meeting people. IRON MAN
My plan was to cast my net of acquaintances wide and gradually pare down to the select few I would call my friends. It worked to perfection. My three best friends from school I met freshman year. We either had class together (Matt), lived in the same building (E) or you were the only one who had a N64 (Jason) I keed, I keed.

So now where do I find myself. Living close to Boston (which rocks) and working in Framingham (eh, love the job/can take or leave the drive). But damn it's hard to meet people.

I break it down like this: 1) I pretty much know who my best friends are and who is going to be in my wedding party. 2) I assume I am not going to make any new life-long friends at this stage in my life. I could be wrong and I hope I am. I was dead set against meeting new people my senior year, because I had so many great people in my life already, but I met Alice that year. And boy did I dig her in so many ways. Alas I was with Lauren at the time. She's one of the few BU kids who live in Boston still that I see on a semi-irregular basis and all (once again, peksy boyfriends and all). But then I met some really rockstar friends the past year. Working at the Bzz-hole even: bocca grande, smokey bones and the happy couple.

So anyways, for whatever reason, everyone around me is in a relationship. I thought nothing of it till this past V-day. I'm usually all for girls wearing red panties and all too. But I'm thinking is "the streak" karma coming back to get me? Am I now forced to deal with Billy Ripken-esque? What should I do? Flaxseed oil, the cream, the clear? I've been single for awhile and dated a few girls, some on and off, but it's very odd. I think I'm just trying to hard and they can sniff it out.

The girls that I have been totally into of late, albeit briefly: a) came to her senses and realized she was 30 and I am 24 and thus totally blew me off. Expected? Yes. Fun while it lasted? Oh, god yes! b) A totally chill gal, who rocked my Celt's headband, has an hones-to-goodness Schilling DD sandwich-esque Boston accent and is friends with my blonde roomie, but again with those f'ing boyfriends. c) this silly college girl who has me wrapped around her finger hook, line and sinker.

So where does that leave me? I don't know. Some life changes are in order. I'm going to try like heck to visit the really important friends I have. Drink more. Consciously leave the toilet seat up. Run and lift till I pass out. Embrace everything and have more stories to tell.

Oh and alienate my friends trust to embarrass them for my own sick amusement.

Well the pressure of cube-life finally got to me. Just came back from my first cig break at work. But since I'm not really a smoker, I still have the added benefits of getting that little cigarette high. That and the caffeine that's streaming through my bloodstream... good times.
The week is half over. Viva la three-day weekend!

Like sands through the hourglass...

so are the Days of Our Lives

Monday February 21, 2005 - NBC's long-running hit soap opera celebrates it's 10,000 episode; the show that my grandmother used to watch while watching me as a child. It's been a while since I shared in the drama of Salem residents and I may not know what Marlena, Bo, and Victor are up to of late, but I have tomorrow off and what else am I doing? For what its worth I think that Days was first and foremost the only soap in town. Here's to another 10,000 more.

The lull before Spring Training starts and the post-Super Bowl hangover is the worst time for being a sportsfan. Can't wait for Opening Day, but what else is there? I even found myself watching some Arena Football today and all I recall is that Jon Bon Jovi is the owner of the Philadelphia Soul and they have some quite lovely cheerleaders. NHL? Even without the strike things don't get interesting till the Cup playoffs. Granted the Celts are in first and a damn, fun team to watch, especially with the metamorphosis Big Al is going through, but it's the Atlantic. NCAA? Not until it's Tourney Time and the office-bracket is on the line.

Oh and it's never a good sign when this is the lead-in on espn.com:



March 3 Sox vs. Twins at Ft. Myers. Be there.

A commercial for a pirate captain-cum-lawyer who will help you sue ninjas who have injured you through kicklash, elbow face, or medical malpractice:

The Pirate booty ye desearve

T-minus 5 hours

Just got back from dinner with Krissy at Jae's. Such a fun night. The two of us haven't hung out just with each other in like ever; dating back to BU. I would have to say the highlight of the night was 1) that Krissy actually ate sushi because last I remember she never had that adventurous of a palate and 2) OH MY GOD, she ate two dozen pieces of maki! But I think my post-dinner Krispy Kreme donut topped everything.

Well anyways we called it an early night as tomorrow (today/tonight) I'm getting up at 5 am to meet Uncle D at Fenway to wait in line. Word on the street is that they are opening the box office and releasing some more tickets to Opening Day. If we get tix it'll all be worth it. Pretty much a night with Ashley Judd and my first born would be worth the price of seeing the Sox raise their 2004 WS banner and receive their rings... in front of those last we saw of them, choke-job Yankees. Ha ha ha still coming to grips with it all!

But I digress. This is all a rumor and we just as well may end up arriving at Fenway and no one will be there. That would be the worst 6 am breakfast I've had. So here's to Dave Roberts, hope, lots of warm clothes and hot coffee.

UPDATE: 12:44 PM
Mission accomplished - I now have an ample smattering of tickets to see the Red Sox at Fenway this season. Who wants to be my friend now?

Pitchers and catchers!

FORT MYERS, Fla. -- Less than four months since writing their most historic and cherished chapter in team history, the defending World Series champion Red Sox took their first official step of 2005 on Thursday, when pitchers and catchers reported to Spring Training.

For once, Red Sox players will not spend the spring being bombarded by questions about breaking a mythical curse. That is a thought that will make the warm sun of Florida even more soothing than usual over the next six weeks.

"Coming back to Spring Training as defending world champions is very exciting," said veteran knuckleballer Tim Wakefield, who is embarking on his 11th season with the Red Sox. "I'm excited to get back to work. Even though the offseason was short, I'm happy to be back."

read the rest of Ian Browne's article here...




My new ass-kicking, snow crunching, chicks digging, feet nurturing, sky walking, ego stroking boots.

Happy Single's Awareness Day

You know as I sat down to write this I was going to rant and rave about the atrocities associated with Valentine's Day. This was the start of something:

An extra bitter rendition to start the week off. I'm usually all for the artificial, secularized Hallmark holidays but as far as I'm concerned this year's Valentine's Day should be eradicated from the calendar. Random Valentine's thoughts:

• Lots of cheap chocolates on sale at CVS, Wal-Mart and the like.
• Victoria Secrets should really offer more than just red lingerie sets.
• I hate having to be ecstatic that I managed to snag a 5:30 dinner reservation where inevitably I will still have to wait.
• When did the international expression of love go from a dozen roses to two?

But I guess I'll chalk up all that extra vitriol to the fact that literally everyone around me is in some sort of blissful coupledom. And that this is the first time that I haven't been exclusive with someone for quite a while. Man, I remember when I used to be cool always living in sin.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying my time meeting and dating other people, but at the same time I think that I may be looking for too much. Something about getting the carriage before the horse comes to mind. Also, by no means am I That Guy. You know the one who is desperately trying to find a girlfriend. No one likes that Guy. That Guy is lame. (More on That and Those Guys to come soon. )

So I raise my glass to all of you who are madly in love, for those looking for that special someone and for those that the next warm bed is heaven-sent. I leave you with these portraits of what the hideous L-word means to some people: http://www.bluejake.com/archives/subject_love/index.php

weekend

A few years back when I was back in college Friday afternoons used to be the favorite part of my week. Matt, Jason and myself would finish up our class for the day and head on back to Sleeper for lunch. This three-hour window was when we could just sit around, catch up and talk about all the random stuff that friends talk about at the end of their week; Monday morning being the farthest thing from our minds.

Knowing that you had the whole weekend in front of you was incredible. 2- 2:30 rolls around and we're still sitting there taking up space, plates piled high and milking the soda machine for all it was worth. Friday night wasn't going to happen for quite some time and what did I have to do for the next five hours? Back to the room to watch TV? Videogames? Take a nap? All this "bonus time" in front of you even before the weekend actually started.

Invariably, I would spend the weekend at Krissys and the guys would go off to their respective watering hole/cinema/event/party, and this was the perfect sendoff. Seinfeld made millions off of it and it's true: nothing is a wonderful thing.

Now that I'm a bit older, I tend not to sleep in as much, have a bit more cash to spend and, unfortunately, don't see my boys (Erin you're included) as much, but in the end Fridays will always be Fridays and nothing could be better.

sugar high

I just got back from attending a Valentine's Day cheap chocolate taste test with my copywriting team. We all brought in a variety of CVS-style $5 and under chocolate candies.

From Whitman Samplers to Barbie "milk-chocolate flavored" candies to Hershey kisses, the gamut was run. I brought the Jeff Gordon-inspired mini-NASCAR chocolates. But I would say the highlight of the affair was the life-size chocolate Big Mouth Bass, including wall mount. You just don't top that.

Breakfast of champions

You know how much guff I got for my breakfast this morning? God, can't a man eat his Hot Pocket breakfast sandwiches in peace?

While walking to the office microwave I did take some time to read the product packaging and I was intrigued. Not by the fat content nor the amount of sodium I was to start my day with, but the fact that Hot Pocket claims to have 26 different varieties. 26?!? That's incredible.

I guess I got my work cut out for me.

The first sports dynasty of the 21st century


Patriots outlast the Eagles, 24-21, to capture third Super Bowl title

SB commercials

For a sneak run down of this Sunday's Super Bowl ads go here. If not this might be more your speed.

ah the joys of new hair product

Nothing like bonding with the new co-workers over enchiladas and quesadillas. Went out to lunch today with the gang. I guess it was my official indoctrination into the writer's guild at work. Alas no tequila shots for us, we were still on the clock. It hasn't even been two weeks yet, but it feels good to get off "campus" for a while. I guess that's what happens when you go from working Down Town to an industrial park off Rt. 9.

It's really funny actually because one of the main reasons I moved out was to live closer to where I work, and thus not have to drive. So what happens? I get a new job that necessitates a new commute. To live along the Green line again, to dream. Just kidding, I would never want to live in L.A. (lower allston) again. But I really miss my morning walks to the bus. Not to mention reading the Improper and Phoenix, though I could care less about the Metro.

So tonight was my third Ad Club class. We had a CD from Arnold who works on the VW account come in to look over our work and give us some pointers. It was really good for me. I know that my stuff needs work, but every once in a while I need to hear it. I wasn't torn a new one, which was good, but I really love all the constructive criticism I received. If there's one thing that I need, it's a little ego deflating. So in that vein, I decided to partner with this one girl for next week's project: Hummer.

This weekend's agenda:

Fri: UMass Lowell vs. BU at Agganis
Sat: Dia de la Constitucion/Housewarming party
Sun: Super Bowl XXXIX - Pats vs Eagles

Discussion with Jason:
I know that the term dames is derived from Madame, but broads? I'm assuming it has something to do with boobies.

Which leads me to my next note. Mardi Gras is coming up soon. Enjoy the beads and pancakes everyone.

Tonight was the mythical Third Date with the Poet: where you and said person either realize, a) you have really nothing in common other than the need to eat and drink, or b) end up exploring the intricacies of your textured ceiling. But seriosuly, you'll know where you stand.

You know what? I have never really had a bad date before. Honest. While things have not always progressed to serious relationship-land, I have always had fun. Witty banter, shared laughs, learning an interesting fact, always enjoying thedelightful tête-à-tête of getting to know someone. But I guess there's a first time for everything.

Bad omen to start the night. I really put a lot of effort into tonight and was literally racking my brain (and others') trying to figure out where to take the Poet. But for a variety of reasons, our foray into Boston was put on the shelf. This would have to wait. All downhill from there. Plan B was some sort of university-sponsored forum at her school. Something about politics, activism and the '60s. Sure, why not? We'll spend time together; grab some food, yada, yada.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind having the impassioned political conversation every now and then, but the entire freaking night revolved around it. I thought I was safe when we were discussing our favorite ice cream flavors, but somehow Ben & Jerry's segued into Northeast liberalism.

And that's the double-edged sword. I love the fact that she is so passionate about things: literature, food, so many things; the fact that she cares and devotes so much of herself to those things, and others, is incredible. But god, everything was just consumed by politics. When it came to dominate the conversation and evening I really couldn't deal anymore. Maybe I don't have enough conviction, but this really wasn't what I had in mind. The straw that broke the camel's back was when she said she was shocked that I liked Family Guy because it was so liberal. What the hell? Honestly! You can question my religious, political and sexual beliefs all you want, but to call out what I watch on TV? That's really too far. And you know what, it makes no sense at all. FG is one of the funniest shows on TV. It is edgy and crosses the line (in a homo-erotically charged ball of fire, nonetheless) yet it is somehow on Fox. Seriously she just couldn't let it go. I wonder if she sensed how I was feeling? I hit the eject button on the night, citing some unfinished work to do (which I do and really should be doing instead of this.)

It sucks because I was really having feelings for her. And it really pissed me off that I somehow came across as the conservative one. Not to mention the fact I spent $10 on ice cream that I didn't finish because I'm lactose intolerant. Ugh.