Still a suck-up

A woman from my hometown - Moscow, PA - received the Newbury Honor Award this year for Children's Literature. I'm a big fan of kids' lit. so when I saw her book on the ALA website, I read it, and then sent her a note to congratulate her. I probably haven't talked to this woman since she was my eighth grade homeroom teacher. However, her family went to my church and her son graduated with me. His and my circles also intersected once in a while. I knew that she would recognize me, and it wouldn't be outrageous for her to receive a card from me.

I didn't know the address, but I only had to fill out her name and the zip code and I knew it would reach her. How can one not love small towns? The mailman has four boys. My mom used to baby-sit them until the fourth was born. She said she wouldn't be able to handle that manyboys under 6! The mailman's father went rafting with me in the Grand Canyon a few years ago. He's a cool guy. I'm not sure what he did for a living, but it involved the government's relationship with the public. His biggest project over the years was Centralia, PA. That the town, under which the coal mines have been burning for decades. Slowly the government has been buying people's houses before they fall into the burning inferno (literally). However, there are still some die hard Centralians who refuse to move. Most of them are old, so now we're just waiting for them to die.

But I digress, which is easy to do when one talks about the politics of small town America.

I sent a card. I received a reply. My card was pleasant, maybe even funny. Her reply heartfelt and properly punctuated. But I question the last line. What am I supposed to imply from it? It reads: "What a crew we had in homeroom that year...that was the year that made me decide I wanted to write full time!"

While I appreciate the thought that I played a pivotal role in her celebrated career. I'm not sure if I want that role.

Job Hunt

All good blogs have at least one Fart Post. This will be mine.


If...whom am I kidding...When I look for my next job, I will look for one at which I can fart. Cubicles are not fart-friendly. The neighbors can hear you. The half-walls, while good for ventilation, do not keep the scent from people walking by. And it's far too easy for one's boss (or Cute Girl) to walk into the cube moments after an SBD has been launched. I don't know if I can continue to digest food in this environment. I eat healthily. A lot of green vegetables. Beans. Maybe it's the lactose. But for whatever the reason, I dread the afternoon because of the somersaults my stomach turns after lunch.

I want a job where bodily noises aren't noticed, like on a airport run-way. Or I need a job out in the open, like in a forest preserve. Or perhaps where strange smells are not out of the ordinary, like a laboratory. Or I could look for a job at the trifecta of these characteristics - the landfill.

Confession time: now that I live in a strange city, a city in which I don't plan to spend the rest of my life, sometimes I just let one rip in public. Sometime I figure the guy walking down the street will just assume the sound was the scuffing of my shoe. Or I'll be in the mall and just assume that if I keep a straight face, noone will think it's me. If they figure it out...so what. It's not like they've never had to do it.

As my Aunt Janine says, "It's better to bear the shame, than to bear the pain." How true.

Holey Bread

Can I return a loaf of bread to the supermarket because it has too large of a hole in the center of it? Seriously, the hole is as big as fist. Making sandwiches or toast would be ridiculous. There is no bread - just crust. I would feel silly returning it. But the supermarket manager might get a kick out of it.

A Cup of Tchai

I had one of my most pleasant evenings tonight.

Jake, Christie, and I went to the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra after work. The concert hall is only a few blocks down the street from us. We bought tickets at the door and they were relatively cheap.

This weekend the MSO is playing a Tchaikovsky concert, but on the Thursdays they play a shorter version of the weekend program. We heard a little bit of an opera, the "March Slav," a piano concerto, and the "1812 Overture." The concert was just long enough. There was a commentator onstage during the performance and before each song, he would give little facts about the upcoming piece. It was great. And who doesn't like Tchaikovsky? I think he's my favorite composer.

After the show, they had complimentary desserts and coffee at the hotel across the street. We helped ourselves twice. My dinner tonight consisted mostly of cannoli and chocolate-covered strawberries. And I washed them down with Jack and Coke. The hotel is classy and as we were still in our business casual dress, we felt like actual adults.

We had some funny stories and decided that Thursday nights at the Symphony should become a new tradition. Especially because the next concert is titled "Barbara Streisand's Songbook." Eh, maybe we'll skip next week.

Dear Abby

My roommate, "Drake," and I get along great. We didn't know each other before we moved in together, but things have worked out swimmingly. For example, I had enough stuff to furnish the entire apartment (except for his bedroom) and he had nothing except for bedroom furniture when he moved to the city. We haven't had any fights yet and I know I would feel comfortible approaching him with any problems that I had about our living arrangements.

Four months ago, for Drake's birthday, his girlfriend, "Sadie," gave him twelve martini glasses. They are very nice and he uses them often because he usually drinks cocktails in the evening. (He lives in Milwaukee but doesn't like beer!) When he first received them we joked about not having any room to store them in the cupboard, but not to worry about it because we were sure to break some of them soon. This weekend, after four months, the first glass was broken.

And I was the one to break it. while I was washing dishes. his dishes. Well, they're actually my dishes, except for the broken glass, but it was his dirty dishes. But I was washing them. And one broke. He wasn't home at the time but I told him afterwards. He laughed and said he was surprised it hadn't happened earlier.

Do I replace the broken glass? Or give him money for it? Would I give him one-twelfth of the price of the entire set? I just thought about this today. I hadn't even considered giving him money. I hadn't even offered. It just seems like we share the household stuff and I wouldn't expect him to pay me if he broke something like a dish or a glass. But I feel differently about single ticket items, like a TV or a book.

Which leads me to the next twist. A month ago, Sadie borrowed a book of mine. She spilled something on it or dropped in the sink - she got it wet - and instead of returning it damaged, she bought me a new one. I wish she hadn't done that though, because, really, I'm not going to read it again.

So, I feel that a precident has been set. But a book, easily found and purchased, is different than one of a dozen martini glasses.

Not a defeat, nor an embarassment

Last Friday I slept in a church.

Jake and Katie are trying to start a Youth Group in their church for high school kids. They organized a Lock-In. They were going to go Midnight Bowling - despite the "lock-in" name they would be going out. They planned this for weeks. But then, at the last minute, actually the last 8 hours, Katie became sick. They needed another adult to chaperone, so they asked me. Of course, I said Yes, otherwise, this would be a pointless posting going nowhere. (When I was little, I had so much trouble with that last word. I wanted to read it as "now here." Secretly I still do.)

Jake and I arrived at the church early. I scoped out the place so that I would feel comfortable. Then the kids started to arrive. All three of them. Three. And one was technically not in the proper age group. He's 19 but not in college and Jake just wants to be a positive influence for him. So, we sort of had 2-1/2 kids. And 2 chaperones. Jake wanted to cancel, but I asked him to stick with it. We have no idea what sort of positive influence we might have on these kids.

We all talked. We ordered pizza. I went to pick it up. I lost Jake's credit card along the way. Oops. I went looking for the lost credit card. I didn't find it. We decided to go for a drive. We drove around until the bowling began. We ended up singing along with the radio including the Four Non-Blondes. Bowling was fun but I was tired. The night went well. We watched Office Space until everyone fell asleep. I'm not sure if we changed any lives this weekend, but I certainly don't think anyone is worse off than when they woke up on Friday morning.

Stood Up

I was supposed to go out for lunch with my boss today. But he stood me up for a marketing meeting. But that was ok. We'll go some other time. And this gave me a chance to catch up on some work during that lunch hour.

They made me do it.

Four Jobs I've Had:
1. Book store clerk / Calendar Man
2. French Fry Artist at the BK Lounge
3. Upward Bound Tutor to the stars
4. Deli Clerk (and sometimes Lobster handler when the seafood lady was on lunch)

Four Movies I Can Watch Over And Over
1. LOTR
2. The Blues Brothers
3. Austin Powers
4. Love, Actually

Four Places I Have Lived
1. Jessup, PA
2. Moscow, PA
3. Boston, MA
4. Milwaukee, WI (no more commonwealths for me!)

Four TV Shows I Love ("Love" is a strong word)
1. Law & Order (when the cast included Benjamin, Jerry, Stephen, Angie, Sam, and Epatha)
2. Ducktales
3. M*A*S*H
4. The West Wing (Seasons I - III)

Four Places I've Vacationed
1. Greece - Athens, Santorini, Delphi, Rhodes, Mykonos, Istanbul (not in Greece)
2. Myrtle Beach
3. Alaska
4. Grand Canyon

Four Of My Favorite Dishes
1. Frank (Mexican Lasagna? It needed a name. Cory thought "Frank" sounded good.)
2. Mom's Christmas Eggs
3. Turkey on white toast w/ lettuce and mayo
4. Sushi is good

Four Sites I Visit Daily
1. Guaranty Bank (just to be sure my money is still there)
2. Our firm's client interface
3. milwaukee.craigslist.org
4. Tom's Blog (because he links to everyone else's)

Four Places I Would Rather Be Right Now
1. Camping at the old Hunting Cabin
2. 18A's table in the dining hall
3. The Olympic Countess
4. Dancing with my friends

The Comeback Post Part II

My computer is back with a vengence.

Sushi

Jake and I went for a sushi dinner last night at the local tres chic Japanese/Korean bar. We had a great time. I don't think I've ever been so full on sushi. The highlight of the evening for Jake was the four transvestites that were also dining there. My back was to the room so I didn't get to see them. We also enjoyed watching our cute waitress work her magic on all of the guys in the room. I have to admit though: we also tipped her more than we should have.

Treat Day

Yesterday was my Treat Day at work. Every Tuesday we all take turns to bring in a treat for everyone else in the office. With about 30 coworkers, one's Treat Day occurs a little over twice a year. Treats are usually bagels, donuts, or homemade baked goods.

This week, it was my turn. I had hoped to design a treat that would coincide with the State of the Union Address. You know, little telephone-shaped cookies or gingerbread men with large ears. However, I could not come up with something clever, so I fell back on the old safety - N&N Cookies (names have been changed for trademark reasons).

Sunday evening I went to the grocery store and picked up my supplies. I prepared two batches. It took me at least 2 hours and I ate quite a few cookies during the process. I messed up the recipe by mixing the ingredients in the wrong order. They didn't look right and when they were baking they began to burn. So, I took them out of the oven earlier than the recipe called for. They looked a little funny, as I earlier wrote, but they tasted fine. I went to bed - no problem. I almost left a note for Jake and Katie to try them in the morning, but thank heavens I didn't.

I woke up on Monday morning just fine. I trudged over to the gym and did my 36 laps (My new minimum - Hurrah!) However, during my final lap I had an incredible urge to get to the bathroom. Right. Then. Immediately. I hopped out of the pool - literally. I skipped a shower. I'm also going to skip the next part of the story with only the comment that gyms with pools should develop "water friendly toilet paper."

I continued along with my morning ritual. Dry off, contacts, avoid the naked old men, try not to sing along with the radio - you know, the usual. Ten minutes later I was back at home. And I immediately made my way to the bathroom. Ok. Something was wrong. I decided not to go to work as I didn't like the idea of running to the men's room at random times. And I have never used a sick day before, so it would be somewhat of an adventure.

The strange thing was, though, that I didn't feel sick. I was already wide awake, so I wasn't going back to bed. I took the opportunity to clean my bathroom. And then the kitchen. And then my room. I talked to Jake and Katie, who had eaten dinner with me the night before but they were fine. So, I figured that it must have been the undercooked cookies. I'm glad that I didn't serve them to the whole office. Well, sort of glad. It would have been a funny experience, especially because it wasn't painful and I never felt sick.

I'm only comfortable telling you this story because everyone at work already knows it. I had ended up going in to the office in the afternoon and my coworkers were nervous about me spreading my germs. So, to keep them from ostracizing me, I had to explain that it was something I made. I then had to promise them that I would buy my treat and not bake for Treat Day.

Wrapped up in Books

I'm currently reading East of Eden by John Steinbeck, and I love it. I'm only half-way through it (300 pages) but I'm pretty sure it will be amongst my favorites. This got me to thinking about what books I would list as my top choices. I could never pick one favorite, but I'm pretty sure that I have a top 5. So, here, in no particular order, are my Top 5 Favorite Novels:

1. The Return of the Native
2. Love in the Time of Cholera
3. 1984
4. To Kill a Mockingbird
5. East of Eden (pending)

There is nothing ground-breaking or unexpected about these. I think they could be found on a good number of people's short lists. They're classics. I can pick them up at any time at any point in the book and start reading, and I am pulled into the plot automatically.

I think of their characters as real people. I wish I knew them: Atticus, Diggory, Winston, Fermina. I want to know more about them. I want to go to out for a drink with them. Well, except for Scout and Jem. Maybe I could hang out at the mall with those two, or probably the courthouse, they seemed to enjoy that. The Hamiltons and the Trasks are keeping me company during these past few balmy Wisconsin winter nights. But I have a feeling I'm going to be visiting with them again in the future.

The Comeback Post Part 1

Oh, there's so much pressure to write. And there's pressure to make it a good post, even though I don't know what precedent would have set up that expectation. My last two weeks have been busy but I don't know what events to talk about. A good deal happened, but I don't know how post-worthy it is.

Jake and I threw a party. It was a success - no vomitting. Huzzah. But we still have that bottle of Gordon's vodka that nobody wants to drink.

I went to Washington D.C. to visit KT. It was good. KT worked on Friday so I had the day to get my touristy things out of the way. I started at the zoo. The mane wolf smelled like a skunk. I watched the elephants get their baths (for 45 minutes - it was cool.) The weather was warm so that I didn't even need a jacket. It was perfect for walking around the Mall. I visited Abe and the Korean War Memorial. I walked past the White House and heckled the president (under my breath (Don't roll your eyes. As if he would have heard me if I had yelled it anyway.)). I saw the National Archives, and I still don't see how Nick Cage could have stolen the Dec. of Indo. I learned how astronauts use a toilet in space. I compared the diceratops to the triceratops. And I learned about Sikhs.

I met KT for dinner. Sushi! I didn't tell her that I had also had sushi for lunch until after the meal. I didn't care. It was very good. We went for drinks at the zoo bar, aptly named as it is across the street from the zoo. However, the name is where the zoo-theme ended. Adina and Tyler both called me that night, which was timely because KT and I had spent so much time talking about our freshman year of college over our beers, which were Yuenglings, by the way.

On Saturday, we took the bus out to the National Arboretum. We looked at trees. I enjoyed it, but really, what more can I say?

That evening KT's friends came over and we cooked dinner together. We experimented with pretzel coated chicken and it was a major success. The highlight of dinner was when KT's boyfriend, Brody, laughed so suddenly that milk came out his nose. By middle school standards, this made the evening a huge success. But by adult standards, it had been successful much earlier than that.

That evening we went out. We met up with some more of KT's friends at one of the hot spots of the D.C. nightlife. The place we ended up seemed to have more men than women at it. It was a little strange to be dancing with so many guys. Luckily I was with a group of girls, but still, it was strange.

On Sunday we went to the National Cathedral, which is also within walking distance of KT's apartment. It was Oklahoma Day, which meant that they had a choir from Oklahoma, an Oklahoman Senator, a Native American chief, and other notable Okies, all in one service. But we didn't stay long because I had a flight to catch.

It was a nice vacation. Just long enough to see the sights and to visit with a good friend.

NAACP

I got lost on my way to the NAACP on Wednesday night. Why I was going, isn't important. I kept driving up and down Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive (Seriously, some people say the whole name everytime they talk about it.) but I could not find the office. I couldn't even find a respectable building besides a bank. And as the only black woman in my office said later, I was "deep in the 'hood" so I did not feel safe walking around to get a better view of the addresses.

I eventually found a library, the Martin Luther King Library. (Despite its juxtaposition to a police station, this is the branch of the Milwaukee Public Library that had a shooting at it.) I went inside and asked for directions to the NAACP. The security guard directed me to the reference desk, where the other white person in the room was seated. The librarian was helpful. We checked some websites, but eventually turned to the Address Listing Book, which is really cool. You just turn to an address and find out what's there. It's an artifact from PG - pre-google. It was incredible.

It turns out that the NAACP's office is in the basement of the bank. I found it, but I was fifteen minutes late. Better late than never.

Intervention

Last Friday I was to meet Mick and Kate for drinks at a local Irish pub after their dinner with Kate's family. Their friends would also be out so I'd have a chance to meet some more young Milwaukeeans.

I was sitting in my apartment alone, just waiting for the agreed time, so I decided to walk to the pub early. I would stop for dinner along the way and it would help kill the time. Well, the walk and pizza were not enough because I arrived too early. But no big deal - I'm confident. I'm secure. I can sit at a bar alone and wait for my friends. Of course I can - but not without drawing the attention of the bartenders.

The bar is cute. It has small rooms because it used to be a home. An Irish band plays in one of the rooms. There's a fireplace. And a host greets you when you enter and helps you to find an appropriate table for your party.

I sat down at the end of the bar and ordered a whiskey and coke. Just that afternoon, I had learned that I had not passed my actuarial exam from November so I was planning my next few months professionally. I thought I was just paranoid, but it seemed like the bartenders were watching and talking about me. After fifteen minutes or so, one of them, I think the owner, approached me. He asked, "How are you doing tonight? Is everything ok?"

"Yes, thank you. I'm good." And then I realized his concern wasn't that my glass was empty, his concern was that my life was empty. I quickly tried to exude confidence. I sat up straighter. I smiled, not just with my mouth, but my eyes too. I said, "Yeah, my friends are running late, but it's no big deal."

He probably didn't believe me; he said with a tone to imply deep concern, "Well if you need anything from us, you just let one of us know, ok?"

"Ok, thanks."

When Mick and Kate arrived, their friends already had a table in another room. Kate retrieved me from the bar and, as always, greeted me with a hug. As we walked to the next room, she ask me, "Why was that bartender grinning at us? What were you talking to her about?" I explained that I had not even talked to that particular bartender, but I don't think that she appreciated the story until we were leaving and all of the waitstaff waved to me and wished me a good night.

Some people have thought that the actions of the staff were strange, but I found them to be honorable. Despite their busy night, the workers were caring and genuine. It was refreshing to find strangers so concerned.

Resolutions 2006

1. Weekday Bedtime = 11 pm.
Not even reading after this time. Accomplishing this will help my morning exercising, keep me focused at work, and allow for more efficient studying.

2. Eat out for lunch only once each week.
Hopefully this will help to thin the waist and thicken the wallet.

3. Drink less.
Alcohol that is. I seriously don’t think this one will happen.

4. Donate as much money to my church as I spend on alcohol in a week.
Just to keep perspective as I give and as I drink.

5. Make a budget.
I have superior Excel skills. Why am I not using them to become more financially responsible?


In case you were keeping score, I broke Resolutions 1 and 3 on January 2.

Back from BONYE 2006

I would have to say that BONYE 2006 was a huge success. I'm back in Milwaukee, finally cleaning my clothes. I'm still smarting from the bruises that I got from snowboarding. I'm trying to put together a timeline of New Year's Eve. Who left the bar when and with whom? And why did they leave? I have a feeling that none of know everything, but then a part of me doesn't want to know everything.

Everytime I go back to Massachusetts I feel the pull to move back there. I know that it's not all party, party, party, but that's not what I miss. I miss the friends with a comfort level that we can spend all day long teasing each other. And this weekend has provided so much new teasing material.

Christmas Recap

While I've been in Moscow, I have had absolutely no motivation to contact old friends. Well, one of them. But this is very irregular for me. I'm usually the guy contacting every person in my old phone list and organizing rides and stuff. But, now, I don't really feel like talking to anyone. It's not that I don't want to see them; I just don't want to organize it. One night, though, I did go out with two of my cousins - Lindsey and Mike. Mike recently turned 21, not that that should be construed to mean he's green. I picked up Mike and we met his sister at the hot spot of Scranton. We wandered around it, looking for Lindsey. Mike saw a good number of people that he knew and talked with them. I saw a good number of people that I know, and I avoided their gaze. Part of me wonders if they recognized me anyway. But then when we finally found Lindsey, one of the guys in her group said he knew me from my high school. I did not recognize him. But he was short, bald, and jacked. I'm guessing that in high school he was only short. He seemed a little bothered by the fact that his name was not familiar to me at all. Luckily I had not had much to drink or I may have pointed out that I was well known in high school and he probably wasn't. (Not that I want to fall back on high school class structure but I was always speaking in front of the school and I was a leader of half a dozen clubs. I was the Oracle of the Dead Language Society, for Zeus's sake!) I convinced my cousin's to go to a different bar down the street. I knew that some friends of mine would be there. We'd be able to sit down. The band would be quiet enough that we could talk. And the crowd would be a little older. I'm happy that we went. I met Carrie's fiance and we talked about meeting each other when I'm in Washington D.C. next month. I mentioned to Jim again that forestry is a booming industry in Wisconsin - because it apparently isn't in PA. I saw Ed, who went to Greece with me before our senior year of high school. We were never close friends, but we'll always have that tie between us. It's still listed as the best week of my life. Another classmate of mine was there - Alex. I haven't talked to him since graduation, but it was nice to see him again. He kept reminding me of elementary school. Why didn't anyone ever tell us during those second grade lunches, that the social skills we honed there would someday be useful at a bar fifteen years down the road? My cousins and I left the bar at a reasonable hour. I drove them home and we had a good conversation about our family. It was good to get their opinions on things that Kelly and I talk about like our parents and grandparents. On Christmas, my aunt told me that they had had a good time out with me. They then teased me by telling everyone how sloppy I was and how I'm a talkative drunk. I was reminded of how serious my family thinks I am and how most of them don't understand me. I hope that my time with my cousins has at least convinced them that I'm not a stiff bore and that we'll continue to go out whenever we're all home at the same time.

From Moscow

Sometimes my mom makes comments like, "Why aren't you staying in town longer?" or "Why don't you use more vacation to come home?" The highlight of my day today was watching the Sumo World Championship on ESPN2. I didn't know that white guys compete in stuff like that. The Bulgarians were kicking butt.

Ugly Christmas Sweater

I crashed an ugly Christmas sweater party last night. Christie brought me along to a coworker’s party. Lucky for me though, she had spent the day scouring the Goodwill for sweater that I could wear. It was actually a sweatshirt. It had a large bear in Christmas-wear on the front. And then on the back, was the back of the bear. It was sweet. The sleeves only came down to three quarters of my arms. I made the finals in the sweater-off, but the guy in the woman’s candy cane sweater and Santa troll pin took home the prize.

During the party, Christie and I were talking about holiday plans and whether or not we’d be going home. Another party guest overheard us talking about Moscow, PA and was interested to hear more about our hometown. It turns out that he knows someone in Moscow and has been there a few times. We quizzed him on places and names and it turns out that he really had been to NEPA. What a strange coincidence.

Wisconsin is cold. Seriously, when the temperature reaches the twenties, we all talk about how warm it is. And there are no traces of sarcasm.

Fields

This past Sunday I went to Chicago with my new friend, John, and his girlfriend, Kate. We wanted to check out the city in Christmas-mode. Our first stop was Marshall Fields - specifically the Walnut Room, which is supposedly the place to eat when doing your holiday shopping. We had to wait in line for an hour, just to get a pager. That was at 11 o'clock. They told us they could seat us at 2 - probably. So, we wandered the downtown, went to eat, looked at the windowfronts and shopped a little, while we waited for our table. Yes, we ate, while waiting to eat.

At a quarter to 2, we went back to the Walnut Room floor. They had not paged us yet but said that we could get in line anyway. We still had to wait another 45 minutes to get a table. Then when we finally sat down, we realized that half of the tables were not even set - they were trying to create the heavy demand! This pissed us off, but we stayed anyway.

The big attraction of the Walnut Room is the giant Christmas Tree in the center of the dining area. Sure, it was nice, but I don't think it's worth waiting 4 hours for. Plus, you can see it from the furniture department directly above the Walnut Room. Another drawing point of the restaurant is the Fairy Princess. This is a woman who goes to all the dining tables and sprinkles fairy dust (actually just mundane glitter) on all the children. She's dressed up in a fancy dress and she has a wand. I'm sure she's magical to little kids. Anyway, the father at the table next to us pointed out how great it would be if "the big kids" at our table were sprinkled with dust too. Kate full-heartedly agreed and John and I agreed too, but not nearly as emphatically. It made for some great pictures and, if Kate gets them to me, I'll send them along to you. The princess fairy took a great deal of liberty when sprinkling John and me. John's hair looked white with glitter. And hours later I was still shaking loose pieces off of my head. It wasn't until I went swimming the next day that I finally lost all of it. Even the pizza guy at dinner asked us, "Dude, what's with all the glitter?" It's fairy dust, buddy, and it makes me fly.

At one point in our shopping, Kate suggested that I buy the fancy chocolate from Marshall Fields, which is called Frango. She and John insisted that it's good enough that I should bring some home to my parents for Christmas. Though not wanting to sound too snobbish, I declined, explaining to them that my hometown has it's own chocolate provider, Gertrude Hawk. I went on about Moscow (as I tend to do) and talked about the recent fire at the chocolate factory and how Mr. Hawk is a volunteer firefighter with my sister. Kate and John listened politely, but still said that I should pick out a small box and try it. I looked around and then discovered that each box of Frango's chocolate was stamped with the message: "Manufactured by Gertrude Hawk Chocolates, Dunmore (football team rival of Moscow), PA." The parenthetical information was not stamped on the box, but it should have been.

True Story.

BONYE 2006

It's official. I'll be in Boston for New Year's Eve. I plan to be there from Thursday night until Sunday night.

Late Night with New Friends
Candle Burning from Both Sides
Early Morning Swim

Christmas Party

I survived the "Holiday Party." But I'm wondering how my coworkers did. Amazingly I think I was the most sober of the bunch - even though my guest was my flask of Jim. And noone helped me drink it! The party was held in Kohler, Wisconsin, known for its toilets and bathroom fixtures. There were a couple of office parties being held in the same ballroom so there were a bunch of tables though we only took up three of them.

This morning I managed to wake up at 9. Actually someone had called my phone, though the number was "unknown" so I may never know who it was. I made a quick sweep of the continental breakfast and saved the stash in my room. I bundled up and headed out to the sports center and gym. It was a full-fledged salon and spa, but only affiliated with the hotel. I had to walk past a frozen lake, on which there were ice fishermen. The gym had 2 lap pools. The showers had three showerheads. They had real soap. And towel service! It takes so little to impress me. It was great.

The extra money was definitely worth staying in a nice hotel over night and the peace of mind of not having to drive home or watch how much I drink.

I should also point out some highlights of the night. Scanning the crowds for bad hair pieces with a new coworker's husband. Dancing with the new guy's cute girl friend. A lot. Not being punched by the new guy. Telling the manager, flabbergasted by discovering the latest office romance, that there's a lot more that goes on in the office that he doesn't know about. The electric slide.

Phone w/ Adina

Last night I talked to Adina for quite a long while. That's not the important part of the story.

During the night I had a dream about our conversation. I dreamed that Charley had somehow got his hands on a written transcript of the conversation and was upset over things we had said. Then I was transported to a BU dorm and I had to talk to one of my residents because she was upset over the written transcripts of our conversation. But I wasn't back in the dormitory, I was an RA in a frat house. Everyone was getting ready for a dance as I talked to this girl and then I was pulled away because people were complaining about a naked guy in the kitchen.

I rarely remember my dreams. And when I do they normally have nothing to do with my life - current or past. I don't know why this one was different.

Like college, but without the books

This will be my third straight night of drinking (with no end in sight).

Two days ago I went out with the new transfer to the Milwaukee office. We went to a small pub - the new guy, his girlfriend, the guy from church (whose girlfriend I met on Sunday), and Ann (whose parents' house I went to for Thanksgiving.) It wasn't the best night out ever but that was because everyone was meeting each other for the first time and there were a good number of introductory-type conversations. But it was a pleasant enough night that I did stay out until 12:30. This was also the same evening that Christie and I went to the Walt Whitman poetry reading. The best line from that event: "Whitman was not afraid of expressing his manly love."

Last night I went to dinner at one of those family-style Italian restaurants. Ann organized it but she was sick and didn't show up. That left four diners which was just barely enough to make the large meal worth it. The new girl at work came with me. She's new to Milwaukee. Her husband still lives in Chicago and she goes back there every weekend, so I don't get many chances to invite her out. We all ate a ton. And the bottle of wine was good too.

Tonight Jake comes home. He's been in Chicago all week. And last week he had been back East for the holiday. We were in the apartment at the same time for about an hour on Sunday, so we caught up a little. He's already called me as he's driving back. Maybe I'll have the Creepy Daves prepared for when he arrives.

Tomorrow is my office holiday party. This year I have reserved a room at the hotel so that I won't have to worry about driving home. Everyone has asked me if I plan to bring my flask again. The office manager wanted to know if my guest will be Jack or Jim.

My weekend has begun

We finally finished our United Way Campaign at work today. I feel that I have been on this committee forever. I wouldn't mind it so much if it weren't so democratic. Do we really need a meeting to discuss everything? The order in which we raffle off prizes. The limit of tickets a person is allowed to buy. Who's going to ask the United Way contact person for stickers. What we really need is a United Way 2006 Campaign Committee Dictator, or perhaps an Enlightened Despot. Someone to rule with an iron fist. There were four of us on the committee. Our office only has 32 people in it. More than ten percent of the office was on this committee! That's hardly an indirect democracy.

It was also quite evident that I was the only non-democrat on the committee as we argued over raffle ticket distribution. The other three thought that there should be a limit to how many tickets one person could receive. They thought that after someone gives $500, that person should be ineligible to have any more chances in the raffle. "That's fair," they said. No it's not. And really, if someone gives $1000 to the United Way give them a $10 gift certificate to Qdoba. I don't care if they make more money than the rest of us. They donated a large chunk of money to a good cause. We should applaud that and make it known.

I was done with work at 4:30. I didn't do much today. I was caught up in the United Way beauracracy. But I stayed until 6 anyway. I had important things to do like make my football picks and steal left over pizza from lunch. I tried to convince someone to go to see Harry Potter IV with me tonight, but nobody would. Of course, I understand that most people are working tomorrow, but I expected there to be one closet Potter fan amongst the people I've met in Milwaukee.

I suppose I should leave for the theater soon. I'll bring a book to read while I wait in line.

Tomorrow I go to meet Tom in Chicago. I'm excited to see him. We're going to a Brewery tour. Jake, Katie, and Christie are definitely coming with us. The other people flaked out on me. But then John from church said that he'd like to meet us too. But I think he has to do the 6 o'clock news. That's so weird.

"Hi, I'm under 50 too."

I made a new friend!

And I met him at church. And he's not a weirdo (at least as far as I can tell, yet).

A few weeks ago I noticed another young guy at church. I figured it was someone's son, so I didn't say anything. But then on Sundaywe passed each other and said, "hi," and started to talk. It's sort of funny because I kept imagining that's how dogs see the world. There could be tons of other people around but a dog only really notices other dogs. I automatically noticed the other person in the sanctuary who was younger than 50.

After the service there was a lunch and we sat with each other - as well as the old ladies. There are some other people in our congregation who are in their 20s, but they are all chemistry doctoral students from Africa. They stick together and after discussing organic versus inorganic, I'm tapped for conversations.

John and I sat and had a pleasant conversation about college and moving around for jobs. I'm calling him "John" because it turns out that he works for a local news station and is a regular reporter. I had to admit to him that without a TV I wasn't even sure what the local stations are, let alone who he is. As we left church we exchanged phone numbers and decided to go out for coffee on Tuesday night.

Today we set up a meeting place and time. We met for coffee (but I drank juice). I didn't know how to ask him if he drank alcohol. Eventually though our conversation went to what we do for fun and it became apparant that we both frequent the local bars. So, we decided to go across the street for a drink. It was nice and I enjoyed talking with him. We don't have much in common when it comes to interests. He didn't even know there was Johnny Cash movie released this week! But it turns out that John knows a good deal about his pension plan and I know more than I thought I did about broadcasting.

John plans to celebrate Dan Goldin Day with Tom and me on Friday.

Parental Visit II

Sometimes I pick radio stations simply to spite my parents.

Parental Visit

My parents are in town. To kick off a Milwaukeean weekend, we went for dinner at a German restaurant. The leftovers are in the fridge and they stink. I can't believe I ate that stuff.

The visit so far has been enjoyable. Let's see what a full day together is like.

Catch the Spirit

At dinner last night, Jake, completely unprompted, says to me, "So, what are our plans for Dan Goldin Day?"

True Story.

After my exam, I went shopping for a GameBoy. Why are there so many people in the mall on a Tuesday afternoon? And why were there children there? I almost asked two kids why they weren't at school.

I walked into the electronics store.

Nerdy Electronics Store Clerk (but probably the manager): Can I help you?

Me: Yes, I'm looking for a GameBoy. Do you also have used ones?

NESC: Yes, we do, but I'd honestly suggest you buy the new one. It has great new features. It comes in graphite or blah, blah, blah.

Me: (What's graphite? I know its chemical symbol is C, but that's also coal and diamonds and they are black and clear. I wonder what graphite is.)

NESC: blah, blah, blah...and that's why you should get the blah, blah, blah.

Me: Ok, if I have games from my old grey brick GameBoy, can I still use it on this player?

NESC: Yes, other features include...blah, blah, blah.


Later, at the register:

NESC: Can I interest you in-

Me: I will probably not come into your store again in the next year? (When I worked in the bookstore, this is how I tried selling the frequent buyer card - I first asked if they shopped with us enough to warrant a card.)

NESC: This magazine is great because it has an unbiased view of various gaming systems, even Nintendo. As I can see from your purchase, you have great taste in games.

Me: (I'm buying Pokemon and Super Mario 3. My tastes suck.)

NESC: Also, this magazine will make sure you never miss anything important.

Me: (Like the ratification of the Iraqi constitution?) I really don't think I would appreciate your magazine, but thank you.

So much fun

My exam was so much fun today, I think I'll take it again in May. Out of 40 questions, I probably guessed at 20. That is flat-out guessing, not even doing the problem. There were also about 10 that I did and my answer was not one of the five choices so I just had to choose one that was close by. I don't get my results until January. I'm not sure if I should start studying now or wait for the score. There is a chance that I passed, especially because the exam is graded on a curve. As for tonight, though, Jake and I opened up the grey goose and popped in his Married...with Children DVD, Season 1. The grey goose helped me to appreciate the show.

Jack & Co.

Jake is taking his GMAT tomorrow. He'll be starting his exam 4 hours after mine is completed, which means that he'll have to catch up to 8 hours of drinking. In anticipation of our Tuesday night celebration, we have in our kitchen: Jack, Jim, Grey Goose, Blue Curacao, Gordon's, Captain Morgan, Bacardi Vanila, and a couple of coronas. Given how little we've been drinking over the past two months we have enough liquor to outlast our lease.

But we do have 12 new cocktail glasses, and we're itching to use them all in one sitting.

Practice Exam

My exam is tomorrow. There will be 40 problems on it, to be completed in 4 hours.

Yesterday I took a mini-practice exam: 10 problems in an hour. I received a 40% (that's 4 correct). That's really not too bad of a score, especially considering that the questions were not the typical; they had been written by a professor at University of Chicago who felt that they represented what the SOA (Society of Actuaries) expects of us. What concerns me more is that of the 4 correct problems, 3 of them were guesses. The problems that I actually computed were wrong, save 1. Oh boy.

Anticipation

The actuarial outpost still has not confirmed my registration to be a member of the discussion forums. I have things to say. I want to be accepted by my actuarial brethren (and sistren). I have pension questions that need to be answered.

Have you heard the latest actuarial news? During last Thursday's Course 8 exam, some of the Pension exam takers were given the wrong case study; they were given the Medical Benefits study! Aye carumba! Bosha moi! Years of preparation and hard work and they were given the wrong test! Some proctors, quick-thinking (or not), took it upon themselves to find copies of the correct test and made copies of it for the students who had the wrong exams. This is fine except for those people across the country who ended up not receiving the correct exam. This is a big deal because these exams are graded on a curve. So, either a bunch of people will be disqualified because they followed the proctors' lead or a bunch of people will be pissed that they were given an exam they did not prepare for. I don't know how the Society will sort this out.

nothing special

I really like this actuarial discussion forum that I've found. Perhaps, now I won't spend so much time reading friends' blogs while I'm at work.

The past few days have not been too eventful. After work I go to the library to study. And after that I come home to study. I do a good deal of daydreaming during the day and thinking about things besides mortality rates, but I don't seem to remember any of those thoughts when I go to sit in front of my computer.

Oops, there's another ladybug on my computer. They are all over this apartment. Not just within, but they're on the outside of the building too. When I was walking in front of my building yesterday, one flew straight at my eye - full speed. And man, those things can be solid, when they hit you straight on. My hands automatically went for my face and my body flew back with my head. I wonder if anyone saw me on the street as I battled the crazy ladybug.

Today is Jake's birthday. He had dinner with his girlfriend and her family. He invited me too, but then uninvited me when I hesitated as I decided. He said he understands that I want to study. That wasn't why I hesitated. I just thought it would be weird to meet the GF's family like that. It would be his party, but because I'm the new guy, I'd probably get the attention. Either way, I'm glad I got out of it. I actually did some studying tonight, though I skipped my stained glass class to do so.

For his birthday, Jake received 12 cocktail glasses, a martini mixer, and a bottle of blue curacao from the GF's family. What kind of person do they think he is?

New level of Nerdiness.

I hit a new level of nerdiness today when I found the discussion forum for pension actuaries and was excited. Let the good times roll!

Nickel Creek & The Ditty Bops

The night after the Matt Nathanson concert I saw Nickel Creek. They were playing just down the street from me. I recently bought their album and think it's great. I listen to it, on average, once a day. Well, I used to, but that was before I bought the Ditty Bops' album.

The show was so good. Pure entertainment. It's hard to classify the music, though most stores would put these bands in the Country/Blue Grass section. But that's mostly based on the fact that they use mandolins. The Bops also have washboards, upright bass, a guitar, keyboard, and various other sound makers. Their show was fantastic. When a musician didn't have something to play during a song, he/she would do something to help the show. One percussionist had so few parts to play that he managed to carve a jack-o-lantern during his downtime. There were juggling, a sword fight, and dancing. There were also "pirate songs" as the Ditty Bops have challenged themselves to write a "pirate song" every day that they are on tour. I can't explain them, but if you get the chance to see them, do it. They are a treat for the ears, the eyes, and the mind.

Nickel Creek headlined. They are a trio of violin, mandolin, and guitar. They also had bass back-up. The mostly played stuff from their new album Why Should the Fire Die? Full of life and spunk, but also touching. And there were definitely funny moments in the show. At one point, the two siblings argued a little back-and-forth as only brother and sister can. They also introduced a song by saying that they cover it because it really is "pure, unadulturated fun." The opening notes sounded familar, but it wasn't till a long screechy note of the violin before I recognized Britney Spears' "Toxic." It was funny, but it was also extremely well done. Two encores before we let them leave, and the first included some tap-dancing by the bassist.

Note to self: Look for a tap-dancing class again.

Wireless

Jake and I (actually just Jake) finally hooked up our internet via the wireless router. It had been two months that I was using my laptop on the floor of my bedroom behind the door so that I would be close enough to the jack, power cord, and telephone. The designers of the apartment were either not thinking about personal computer usage or had planned on our wireless abilities.

charming

I have been home for most of the day with NPR playing in the background while I study. I don't know how many times I have heard it mentioned today that Judge Alito's confirmation will not go as smoothly as Justice Roberts, because he's not as charming. Is that really such a big deal? I mean, certainly, John Roberts took the "Most Attractive Justice" title from...uh...well...well, he has the title now, but I really didn't think that played a role in the selection of a justice. Physical features are important for elected officials, but I thought appointed positions are based more on abilities and cronyism.

Matt & Matt & Kate

Last Thursday, I drove out to Madison for a Matt Nathanson concert. It had two opening acts: Kate Earl and Matt W-something. I had convinced a friend, Ann, to come for the drive with me; it was our first road trip.

I took the afternoon to study, so we were able to get on the road, sharply at 5 o’clock. Ann’s a teacher so she had been home at 4. Even with our early departure though, we hit traffic leaving Milwaukee. But really, the worst Milwaukee traffic is better than Chicago traffic at 8 pm on a Sunday. We had a good ride. Ann and I have mutual friends and we were able to compare stories on them. Ann was also planning a Halloween party so we talked about that. The conversation was pretty mundane and didn’t really get good until we each had a drink at the pub where we ate dinner. When I say, “we” I mean Ann as she is small and it only takes one drink for her conversations to go into normally taboo waters.

The concert began at 7:30. We were in the doors at 7:35. But alas, we only heard one of Kate Earl’s songs. We were buying drinks during “Hero” and only made it to the “stage area” for “Officer.” I’m disappointed that we didn’t get to see more of her set. But it was nice after the show when I talked to her at her merchandise booth. I asked her to sign my CD and Ann took it from her purse. Kate asked, “Did you bring this with you? Did you buy this in a store? That’s great.”

I replied, “Yes, the radio in Milwaukee plays you all the time.” But I don’t think that she was impressed with our 90-mile trek to see her perform. I suppose 90 miles to an Alaskan is nothing. When that didn’t get much reaction, I said, “My friends saw you last week in Boston and thought you were great."

But I dropped that train of thought though, because Kate only said, “You bought my CD in a store. That’s great.” She was cool. She signed my CD “To Donny [heart] Kate Earl. So, apparently she has already forgotten Tom.

The first Matt on the stage wasn’t as bad as I had expected. Tom and Felecia had me prepared for torture, but it was ok. The girls sharing our table told us that they actually came to the concert for Matt W-something; that he plays on campus sometimes. Most of the audience knew who he was and sang along to his songs. Ann thought he was adorable. But that may have been the beer talking. He did have a short guy playing a guitar next to him. I only mention this because I thought the guy was sitting down, but he wasn’t – just very short.

Matt Nathanson made it to the stage, but he wasn’t alone. He had a band. Huh? Where’s the cellist? I want Matt Fish, not drums, rhythm guitar, and bass. I thought about the other performances of his that I’ve seen in Boston, and part of the attraction was that it was just MN and his guitar (sometimes accompanied by cello) putting on a show. Sometimes quiet, sometimes surprisingly rocking, but never with all the extras that tend to cover up lyrics and melody.

MN mostly played his own songs. We didn’t hear any Bon Jovi or Boston. Is this because he’s gaining popularity, or is this a different audience in Wisconsin? The only covers we heard were Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf,” Prince’s “Starfish & Coffee,” and James’ “Laid.” But I don’t count the last two as covers because he plays those all the time.

I was also surprised at how lewd MN was. I don’t remember that. At one point he went on and on about the drummer’s penis. It wasn’t cute, like a story about “the best chicken you’ve ever had” just dirty. Actually there was a lot of talk about genitalia. It was somewhat awkward. Those of you who saw him in Boston last week, did you have a similar experience? Has MN changed over time, or just over distance?

I went to MN’s website recently and noticed that he has a new tour stop – in Milwaukee. I didn’t have to drive the 90 miles; I can walk to his next concert. And the concert is in 2 weeks, on November 15^th. I’m not sure if I want to go. I had a great time in Madison, it just seems too soon. Also, it’s at Marquette University, in their auditorium, and I’m not sure if I want to sit in a theater with a bunch of college freshmen. But, that’ll be a week after my exam and if I can find a buddy to with me, I think I’ll cough up the money.

Quotation of the night

Me (to Jake): Whenever I end up talking to strange drunkards at the bar like that guy, I always end up feeling homesick.

Set-up for Failure

This afternoon I am home studying for my next exam, which will be here in less than 2 weeks. I am not ready. And I'm starting to prepare myself for failure. This isn't really a big deal, though. Most people fail Exam 3 on their first try. Most fail it on their second try too. The pass rate is usually about 30% so actually most people just plain fail it. This is the important exam that is based on actuarial mathematics. This is the whole reason that actuaries exist. Other exams cover calculus, statistics, regression, time series, economics, laws, interest theory, etc. But this is the crux. If one is bad at this exam, he probably won't be a good actuary.

I have never had a class on actuarial mathematics. So, while most students spend two semesters on this subject, I had to learn it on my own in 3 months. I have done a good deal, but it probably hasn't been enough.

On my side, however, is the fact that for the last exam sitting, Exam FM (sequencially before Exam M) was much easier than expected. They passed about 70%, which is unheard of in the actuarial community. Therefore, there are a good number of extra people taking my exam who probably don't realize how much they should be studying. Luckily though I have some earlier experience before FM was so easy, so I have a grasp of what is expected of me.

Despite my concerns though, I am driving to Madison tonight, to see Matt Nathanson and Kate Earl. Whoohoo. What if I get hit by a bus the day before my exam? I'd be upset if I missed this concert for an exam that I never even took.

Weekend Update

I told myself that I would study on Friday night. But I went to dinner with Jake, Katie, and Christie. Christie is from Moscow, PA. She was recently offered a job in Milwaukee as an engineer. She lives in my apartment complex. We had dinner and then Jake and Katie had their own plans. Christie and I went to all of the open art galleries around the downtown as it was Gallery Night in Milwaukee, but we became tired of that decided to go barhopping instead. I took her to the spy-themed speakeasy, which she loved - though she didn't like their special "code beer." We then made our way to the dueling piano bar. She had never been to one but we had a great time. We had run out of cash at this point of the night and there was a $20 minimum to use our card. So what else could we do? We had to keep ordering beer.

On Saturday night, two of my coworkers through a party at their house in the suburbs. They invited quite a few people from work so I asked if I could bring some of my friends. They thought that this would be great, so I brought Jake and Katie, Christie, and Ann. There were only five other guests who showed up at the party. So, I literally was half the party. We carved pumpkins and watched the World Series. In honor of the White Sox, I wore my new mullet wig. It was hot. I don't mean that in the temperature way, even though it did keep the back of my neck warm. I again carved a George W. Bush jack-o-lantern, but it wasn't nearly as good as last year's. They eyes weren't beady enough, but I again captured the sneer and the big ears.

I worried that Jake and Katie didn't have a good time at the party but today Jake told me what a good time he had. I wonder if the big screen TV helped. He mentioned that since moving to Milwaukee he usually hangs out with Katie's family, "which is cool, but it's nice to be with a bunch of people our age again." He then gave some examples that he could make obscure Simpsons references and jokes about animal sex and nutsacs. (We played Balderdash and had to come up with the storyline of a movie titled Pardon my Trunk.)

Church this morning. And a run in the early afternoon. I fell asleep while studying. Ann and Karen invited me to their apartment for a homemade pizza dinner tonight. That was a relaxing time as we sat around the table and made fun of each other all evening.

Ray called tonight and we talked for quite a while. He had his military medical check on Friday and tomorrow he has his physical fitness test. I don't know how I feel about his joining the marines. I suppose if it's what he really wants to do, then he should go for it. But it's also quite scary.

Recently I've been thinking a lot about what's missing from my Milwaukee friends. Jake and Christie keep me talking about our mutual friends from Boston and Moscow and I can't help but be reminded of how good I had it in both of those locations. After this weekend I felt that I now have the materials to build a circle of friends here in Milwaukee. I have talked to both, Jake and Christie, about this and they want to be a part of it too. Part of me is concerned that I didn't put as much time into studying this week that I spent on socializing. But then the rest of me feels that there is an optimal time to build relationships with people or you miss that chance. Now may be one of those times and tests will be given again.

For those of you that know Ray, you may find this hard to believe, but I always feel so much better after talking to him. Somehow he always makes me think about what's actually important in life. I don't know if it's because we find stress in different things, or because some of our values are completely at odds with each other, but I always come away from our talks feeling that the world is going to work out just fine.

P.S. Happy Mole Day

No escape

Hands down, the most uncomfortable time during my visit home, was a conversation with my mom while we drove to a quilt show. The quilts were in Montrose, PA, which is about 1 ½ hours from Moscow. It’s an extremely picturesque drive, passing old farmhouses and homes with large verandas. The leaves on the rolling hills were a range of colors and they were still on the trees. We took backroads because we had the time and it was a lot prettier.

However, for part of the drive I was distracted from the scenery because we talked about menopause, and more specifically, my mom’s menopause. (I’m not going to worry about her reading this entry until she learns to turn on a computer. And even then I don’t think she could navigate the internet anyway. I’m not being mean - during the weekend she asked me if an iPod is something to sleep in.)

The conversation started innocently enough. We never actually said the word, “menopause.” Mom was telling humorous stories about how emotional she is these days. She can’t read the newspaper mostly because of the coverage of dead soldiers, however less emotional stories get the tear ducts going too. She also says she cries during church. She then moved onto stories about her friends, mostly the Material Girls (her quilt group). She also told me about a neighbor whose husband has suggested that his wife see a psychiatrist. We both laughed at this because we think the couple needs psychiatric help for much more serious reasons. Mom then started going off on how men don’t understand and how dumb we are. She brought up 13-year-old girls and I panicked. Suddenly staring straight ahead out of the windshield wasn’t enough separation from this topic.

I did what any nerd would do in my situation. I made the topic scientific, even a little mathematical. I recalled the information from my research paper on estrogen and Alzheimer’s disease during junior year’s endocrinology class. I talked about how a man produces a level amount of estrogen through his whole life so there’s no shock to his body. When his testosterone level rapidly declines, it doesn’t affect him as severely as a woman is affected by her estrogen drop. There are theories relating women’s decline in estrogen to the higher relative number of female Alzheimer’s patients. My mom had nothing to add to this part of the conversation, as I had hoped. I had successfully hijacked the conversation. We turned to talking about the silly exploits of the neighbors and we never looked back.

Church benediction

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you will live deep within your heart. May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you will work for justice, equality, and peace. May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that you will reach out your hand to comfort them and change their pain to joy. And may God bless you with the foolishness to think that you can make a difference in the world, so that you will do things, which others tell you cannot be done.

-Author Unknown.

Ranger School

One of the first things I thought about on September 11, 2001 was the Draft. I remember crossing the Mass Pike to the boathouse for my sailing class and thinking about whether we were at war. I walked with Beth and Jackie who were talking about apartment things. That discussion seemed silly at the time, but they had not watched the news that morning and I had only overheard rumors of "attacks" at the library, so I did not feel it was my job to spread possibly false information. While they talked my mind raced with all of the possabilities that "attacks" could mean and what the United States' response would be. I thought about what my response to that response would be. Would I join the military or wait for inscription? Or would I dodge it? I even had a professor at the time (chain-smoking, Green Quaker), who told us that if we (the men in her class) needed help in the future she knew ways to get out of a war.

During this time I remember often talking about the Draft to my friends. And it was funny because all of the guys had similar reactions to the attacks - we first thought about military service, but the girls hadn't given it nearly as much thought. As the days and then weeks passed, we realized that this wasn't WWIII. Dubya came out of hiding and we had a better idea of what action would be taken. It would not be such a large-scale operation as I had been thinking about. We began to return to thinking more about our individual advancements and not so much of the country's. However, Tyler continued to talk about military service. At the end of sophomore year, actually on the 4th of July, he told me that he intended to enlist after graduation. I thought it was a good idea. He gave me professional reasons for why it was a good move, but I know his decision was more for personal reasons, and I agreed with those.

Later that year, my feelings towards the military started to change. I dealt with high school friends who had enlisted. They weren't happy. The war in Iraq began. People were questioning why the US was there. And I hoped that Tyler's decision had changed.

But it didn't. And he enlisted. And he's been in training for more than a year now. And I hope that his training continues until the various campaigns are complete. Or I hope that he's stationed in Oklahoma.

Today he begins training for Army Rangers. He should be proud of his making that cut. I am and I'm also impressed. I hope he excels - I think he will - but part of me would like to see him return home.

Matt & Kate

I just bought my tickets for the Matt Nathanson and Kate Earl show.

Work

Today I had a meeting with my people manager (PM) - the guy I was recently assigned to because the original person quit. I don't like my new PM, professionally nor personally. Two months ago, when we set up this meeting, I had no idea what we would talk about. However, I had plenty to say today. Of course, he spent a good deal of time talking about things completely unrelated to my job. He spent 15 minutes talking about Medicare reforms. I work on Pensions. I know it was 15 minutes because I watched the clock outside his window for the entire time.

One highlight of the meeting was when I said my annual goals were "silly" and "I'm not going to do these."

Another good part of today's meeting was the look on PM's face during the following exchange:

PM: Well, at least we've recognized the problems.
Me: But you recognized these problems a year ago. It's frustrating to know that Brian and Mike [the guys who quit this summer] had these same complaints a year ago, and now I have them.
PM: uuuuhh. Yeah, we don't want you to quit.

This was actually enough to get PM to sit up straight. He spent most of the meeting leaning back in his chair with his feet on his desk. He also yawned at least 7 times. Like a lion. In the middle of his sentences. I don't even think he knows he does it. It's rude, but it bothers me more just because it's awkward. Do I avert my eyes from his feet on the desk? Do I not look at his tonsils while he's yawning? These situations did not come up in corporate orientation training.

In other office news, a stressed out Jason (5 years my senior but the next person in seniority to me) snapped back at a consultant and pulled me into his complaint too. He makes a valiant complaint, with which no one can argue: we have too much work, all of it is labeled as "urgent," there has been no signs of new hires, and they expect us to have time to study.

Also, I heard that at a planning meeting, the bigwigs were discussing future projects and they kept saying, "Well, Donny's on that team." or "Donny's supposed to do that." until finally someone made a remark that I can't possibly do everything that was mentioned.

So, what I'm trying to get at is that today at work, everyone was super-nice to me. I think either they're afraid that I'm going to quit without warning or they know that they'll be asking me to do work for them in the near future.

Along this line, Jason greeted me this morning with, "Oh, you're hear today?"

"Yeah, did I say I was going to be somewhere else?"

"No, there are just some days that I wonder if you're going to come back here the next day."

holiday

Was today a holiday? I noticed that none of my friends posted today except for Jenn, who wrote about her day off. I worked. I worked for a little under 12 hours. And I did not enjoy it.

The best part of today was after work. A friend of mine from Pennsylvania, Christie, has moved to Milwaukee and tonight, we met at a local bar. I had dinner and she had some post-dinner soup. She told me about her weekend and how she's doing in Milwaukee. She ended up moving into the same apartment complex that I'm in, though a different building. It's funny that she's going through some of the same experiences that I had a year ago. For example, she tried the neighborhood church, where they prey on young people, and was frightened away despite their zealous invitations to socialize after church.

She realized that everyone else at work is married. And they talk about football all of the time. (I let her know that the football talk doesn't stop when the season is over either.) Her boss drives an SUV and has a W '04 sticker on it. Christie's an environmental engineer and was greatly bothered by this last discovery. At least I know that she's signed on for a year-long lease, so she has to give Milwaukee a decent chance.

Moscow Update

Today was my first full day back home in Moscow, PA. It is my sister, Kelly's, 22nd birthday.

I woke up at 8 to go for a walk around the neighborhood with my mom, like we used to do when I was in middle school - before I had a job or a driver's license to get away from the house. We talked about life as a 20-something. It was an actual conversation. She listened to what I had to say and I didn't tune out some of her stories. It was nice.

Back at home we watched a little Regis and Kathie Lee (with Kelly Ripa). We watched a little Ellen and then the painter guy, Paul, showed up. Paul is painting most of the house because my parents are buying a new refridgerator. It's a long story; let me elaborate. Dad wants a new fridge because he cooks now. When I lived with Dad, he used to have me make him sandwiches because he didn't know where the mayonaise was. Dad wants a new fridge - one that he won't have to bend down to the vegetable drawer. This higher-vegetable model is 33 inches wide - 3 inches wider than the allotted space. So, they need to move the kitchen cabinets. If one moves the cabinets though, new wallpaper will be needed because the wallpaper is very dirty, especially near the stove where Dad has learned that pots need lids or they spatter. Well, as long as the wallpaper is changing let's put in new floor covering. Lose the linoleum, bring in the hardwood. And while you're at it, put hardwood floors in the living room too. Rip up the carpet. And then, this is where the logic loses me, paint the whole house too. At the bar tonight, Kelly added to this story and told me that my parents also plan to get a plasma TV for above the fireplace.

My mom asked me today if an iPod is something to sleep in.

I studied this morning while Paul whistled about the house.

I went running around Lake Scranton with Jim. I learned some good gossip from him. Chris's girlfriend is pregnant. Carrie has a top-secret government job. And I can't remember the rest but it was a run's worth.

I went to the cider mill with Kelly. We bought apples and cider. She revealed some family gossip that I never knew about and has me concerned. She also told me about a recent suicide - a kid a year ahead of me in school - actually one of the elementary school bullies. Even my dad asked, "Wasn't he the mean kid on the bus?" (My dad would struggle to name ten people I graduated with, but somehow he remembers this guy.)

I visited with my high school Latin teacher, the Kak. We talked about books, her medical problems, my life in Milwaukee, and more gossip. The ninth grade English teacher has certainly left his wife for the geometry teacher who is going through a divorce. This story was confirmed by the woman I sat next to during my flight from Detroit to Scranton. Very coincidental, but during my flight, I sat next to an old teacher from my high school. I never had her, but she knew my name. I was going to press her for details during my flight, but I knew that the Kak would tell me just as much, but without judgement.

Dinner with the family at one of the Japanese restaurants in town. I ordered the sashimi, and didn't have to share with anyone. Great.

After dinner, Kelly and I hit up the bar for her birthday. No drunken debauchery, but we did see some old friends of mine. It probably wasn't tons of fun for her, but if her friends were old enough, they were welcome to come out too.

I had better go to bed soon. Tomorrow I'm going to a quilt show with Mom.

ugh

I have a client meeting at 8 am tomorrow. Straight from work, I'm going to the airport to fly home. Speaking of home, a girl from Moscow moved to Milwaukee today. She's already offered to drive me to the airport. I love the small-town mentality of always helping our neighbors. I've already offered her the use of my car while I'm gone so that she can look for apartments. She also may need some supplies for the new apartment while she waits for her grandparents to drive here with the moving truck. I think I may put together a survival kit - you know some utensils, a lamp, duct tape - the essentials, for the mean time.

Kate & Ray

Katie called me. She's back in the states but she has a long lay over in LA. A one-week layover. Her friend, whom she's staying with, sent her a message saying that he'd be late at work and she should find dinner on her own. I told her to give Ray a call. And I gave her his phone number.

I hope she calls him. And I hope he takes her somewhere. And I hope that that somewhere is K-town. And I hope she has stories for us.

Opening Credits

I had high expectations for yesterday - but they fell through.

I acquired the high expectations on Monday morning, when I returned to my apartment after my swim. This was the first time in weeks that Jake and I were getting ready at the same time. We were both going through our morning rituals in our respective bathrooms, but I could hear his music playing. I didn't recognize it but it was upbeat and powerful. It reminded me of pop rock from the 80s. And it reminded me of the opening credits to a movie.

You know, the type of movie in which there are "normal" suburban people who suddenly have something incredible happen to them. The movie always begins with the main characters getting ready for the day, completely unaware of their fates. And the character, if he's cool, has everything go his way: he catches the toast as it pops out of the toaster, the parking spot in front of the school is open. But if he's the loser character, the little brother gets in the bathroom first and the school bus drives away as he runs to it.

On Monday morning I felt like I was the cool character. Something was going to happen. Doc was going to whisk me away in his Delorean. Ducky and I would make plans for the upcoming dance. Or maybe, my father and I would switch bodies for a day.

My expectations have not panned out. The government forms I have been working on will make a terrible movie. The auditor's request will make no impact on the future, let alone take me there. But I'm not too disappointed. The movie could have turned out to be a horror flick or even worse, an M. Night Shymalan project.

Weekend Update

My weekend was frustrating and I don't feel that I got much out of it. A good deal happened but nothing very memorable. However, on paper the events look good, so perhaps the pay-outs will be later in life and perhaps I'll never even see the pay-outs.

For example, on Saturday evening I took Tyrone out. Tyrone is the high school kid I mentor through the YMCA. I had hoped that we could see a play at a little black box theater, where I have season tickets, but the show was sold out. So, instead we saw Corpse Bride. (This was my second time.) We ate dinner at the theater - it was the type of movie house with couches and tables and they bring real food out to you to eat during the movie. I brought Tyrone there because he's always talking about "the females" but I don't think he does anything with them. He just gets their numbers for now. But someday, when he is going out on dates, I want those dates to be more than Appleby's and the Cineplex. This mentoring is more than academics.

We did talk about school though. But most of the talking was on my part and usually it sounded more like a lecture. Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm overstepping a line when I talk to Tyrone. I worry though that he's given an unrealistic view of life by this YMCA program and other self-esteem raising programs. I'm all for the "Dream Big" motto, but you also have to "Work Hard." In our discussion of possible careers and my stressing what subjects are important, I caught myself telling him, without thinking, "But you don't use verbs correctly." Ugh. Also, he's on block scheduling. He currently is taking "Working with Clay," but no Math. He spends 7.5 hours each week on pottery, but he struggles with simple arithmetic.

Friday night we went dancing at 80s Night. I brought a coworker who got drunk and kept bothering one of the girls with us. Touching, dancing too close, only talking to her even though the rest of us were standing right there. It was awkward - and somewhat creepy. Everybody said that they had a good time and they'd like to go again, but the girl has asked me if I wouldn't bring the coworker next time. Ouch.

I worked. I received a promotion, as of Saturday so, I was working those overtime hours at a new, higher billing rate.

I studied. Ask me about a pure endowment insurance. Or m-year deferred whole life insurance. DeMourve's Law? No problem. But I haven't learned about the premiums yet.

Jake came home from Mexico. And he leaves for his next assignment on Tuesday. It's like I'm back in my single apartment, but at a fraction of the rent.

I swam four kilometers but I ate a lot of junk food.

My minister told us about her new granddaughter who is the size of my foot, but only weighs less than 2 pounds. She brought one of her diapers to church to show us - the size, not the surprise inside. Actually I think it was a clean, unused diaper. It was so tiny, probably big enough to cover a tennis ball.

As you can see I did a good deal. I experienced things, but for some reason I feel that none of it was important. "85% of life is just showing up." I suppose that's what this weekend was.

18A Request

Sophomore year, I put together a list of the "Top Ten Things Don't Want to Hear from Your Freshman Roommate." This list included such gems as:

"Do you want to play boggle?"
"My name sounds Jewish, but I'm really Asian."
"I build robots; they suck balls."

And beyond that, I can't remember any of them. If you have a copy of this list, will you please send it to me? Thanks.

Tom - request

I was going to leave this as a comment from an earlier post but then realized that if I'm not reading my comments, then what are the chances anyone else is.

Tom, will you please send me a copy of our list of quotes and characters from our trip to Myrtle Beach during Senior Year? If someone else has it, I'd appreciate it from you too. I just figured Tom's the most likely to have it saved and to know where the copy is. My copy was destroyed when my computer crashed.

I can't remember the melody.

It's a little wild and a little strange...
when you make your home out on the range.
Start your horse and come along..
Cause you can't get a ride if you can't hold on
Singin, yippee kai aie ay. (Yippee kai aie what?)
Like the cowboys say. (Sing it again now.)
Yippee kai aie ay.
'Till the break of day.
You'd better watch out for those man-eating jackrabbits... And that killer cacti....
Hey Duuuuuude

Roommate Bonding

Jake and I had our first Out-of-the-Apartment Bonding Experience this weekend. We've gone out before for drinks or dinner but his girlfriend also came, so they were more Third Wheel Experiences.

We went to the Brewers/Cardinals game. I won the contest for who would spot the first mullet so Jake bought me a beer. It was a good game but extremely long. The hot dog race was at 9:30!

Jake drove and on the way home, he had the difficult job of selecting music. Remember, we've only known each other less than a month so we're still figuring out where each other stands. It's way too early to bring out the Bananarama music or the Beauty & the Beast soundtrack. (Just kidding, Ray, it's never too early to reveal to your freshman year roommate that you can sing Belle's opening number in its entirety, yet you still can't distinguish between the Beatles and U2.) So far Jake and I have been playing it safe at home. We stick to pretty neutral stuff, macho but not insulting. Jake has been playing his classic rock - the Boss, Mellencamp, maybe some Elton. I've been sticking with current cool music - Maroon 5, White Stripes, Johnny Cash. (Notice neither of us are playing women. I waited till he left today to pop in my Dixie Chicks CD.) At home, selecting one CD out of 30 is safe. It's not saying "no" to 29, but saying "yes" to a specific choice.

However, choosing music in the car is a different story. Songs come on the radio randomly and, in a moment, one must decide if it's good or bad. Are the oldies considered goodies? Is rap crap? What about Rod Stewart - cool or tool? Cory almost moved our of our apartment Junior year when he heard me playing a James Taylor album; I didn't make that mistake twice.

On our ride home, Jake was doing fine until he stopped at a station playing Wham's "Wake me Up Before you Go-Go." I was sure this was going to be nixed, but he didn't change the station. In fact, he said, "I don't care. I like this song. We'll keep it on." I was so surprised that I didn't stop to think before I said the first thing in my head: "Choose Life." I didn't think he'd get the reference but he did, and we talked about the music video and where "the other guy" is now.

As "Go-Go" was winding down I asked, "How are they going to top that off?"

"They'll come up with something."

And as the opening beats of "Come On, Eileen" were thumping, we knew the station certainly had. Poor old Johnny Rae...


On my way to the gym the next morning I tried that station again and heard Kenny Loggins's "Footloose." I car-danced the whole way to the swimming pool.

definition of friend

I was looking on the facebook today - I had to confirm that John really is my friend. Anyway, I have two exams to prepare for so I certainly spent some time randomly looking at other people's friends. I did a search on my high school and I got a ton of names. Very few of them graduated with me, but I recognized a good number of family names. It's a small town, we know about everybody.

My question though is: "Is it strange to request to be friends with kids I used to babysit for?" Well, whatever you say, I already did. Also, some extra information: their mother used to send me raunchy forwards. You know, the type with naked fat women jokes and the accompaning picture. I learned to screen her emails. So, it's not as if I crossing some sort of "inappropriateness line" with this family. It's just - Would it be weird to receive a friend request from a guy that used to come to your house on Saturday nights, order a pizza, and then tell you to go to bed at a reasonable hour (usually 10 minutes before the parents were due home, yes, my RAing skills were honed as a babysitter.)?

Mumbai, Schmumbai

Our IT guy's position has been eliminated. All the IT guys in the firm's positions have been eliminated. However, when we experience computer problems, we'll be able to contact the "help desk" in Mumbai, India and they will be happy to guide us back to computer solvency.

What are the leaders of my firm thinking? Have they ever tried these "help desks" before? "Help" is the last term I would use describe them. And where is Mumbai? Actually I looked it up and it's the new version of Bombay. (Even old New York was once New Amsterdam.) When was Bombay's name changed? I don't remember that happening.

I've recently started a log to keep track of all the times I've needed the IT guy's help. Usually I don't need him for catastrophic problems, but just small things to make my life easier. I would never feel comfortable calling the "help desk" about them. Some things on my list this week include: changing the default settings of my printer and installing new formulas in Excel. Sure I could do these things myself if I had an hour to spare and a manual, but I don't have either.

Replacing the IT support staff with foreign "help desk" will certainly not be cost effective. Every associate knows this, unfortunately the CEO and coterie do not.

Defense (and a joke for Jackie)

As you know, I moved to a new apartment at the beginning of the month. This has caused a good number of problems with my internet connection - well, not really problems but inconveniences.

We had signed the lease for a year with an agreement that we'd get free internet. This "free internet" access manifested itself in a little box that we had to connect to the phone jack in the kitchen. Jake tried it out, but alas, we had no internet. Neither of us wanted to complain to the leasing office because we had bigger problems that we wanted them to focus on. For me it was my bathroom sink's leaking. For Jake it was the army of spiders that made their way through the crack between his screen and window every night. Because neither of us had the internet connection fixed, we found other means to access the web. Jake used his wireless card to steal from the neighbors, who we rationalized were receiving free cable from the office anyway so it wasn't stealing, and I used my computer at work.

I had set myself guidelines that I would not blog at work. I have no problem reading blogs and commenting from my work computer, but I will not post. Part of this reason is that I know the IT guy can tell what websites we go to, and I would rather if my blog doesn't stand out from the many that I read during a day at work. This lack of posting was in September of this year, also known as the "blog drought of '05."

Since the "drought" I have bought my own wireless access card. Though I haven't figured out how to steal from my neighbors, I don't have to anymore. My apartment complex has fixed our connection and I can post from home. However, some livejournals now consider me a spammer and I'm not allowed to leave comments on them. I'd also like to repeat that my access is through the phone jack in the kitchen, so I'm sitting on the floor while typing this. And there are spiders crawling about; they must have broken through our duct tape.

Foot-in-mouth disease

This past week I have said a few inappropriate things that have made me want to crawl into a cave. I'd rather not relive any of the stories by writing about them now. But I wonder if stress is affecting me so that my brain filter isn't in full effect.

Seneca

However many people a tyrant slaughters, he cannot kill his successor.

Dentist follow-up

My dentist called today to see how I was feeling after my cavity was filled yesterday. I have never had a doctor follow-up on how I felt.

Frenchie

Luic is a guy from our NYC office. He's originally from Paris. At first I thought he was an arrogant bastard. It turns out that he is, but it's not because he's French, it's just his personality and I like him because of it. Tonight he gave the waitress such a hard time, but when it came time to pay the check, he added a tip well beyond the gratuity that was already included.

When Luic is around some of us talk in really bad French accents and we spend most of our time discussing "not saving [his] ass next time in WWIII."

He and I took care of most of the two bottles of wine at dinner tonight. Viva la France!

The Spawn of Tom & John

I'm going to have a tough time explaining why my coworker reminds me of Tom and John, combined. His name is Thomas and he's from North Carolina. He went to school in Texas. So, I suppose his Southern background makes me think of John. He is also very smart though it is mostly in math and finances. But I'm constantly impressed with his knowledge of social sciences and current events.

He has the same facial expressions of John. The look of shock on Thomas's face when LA Michael confessed to crying throughout the entire 3rd season of Felecity could only be matched by John's look when Ray would talk about guns and/or Beauty & the Beast. He is also good at flirting with the girls, though I wonder if he's really interested in them. A good deal of his attention is spent on Jison (married for 7 years) and Angela (engaged this week). He's also a spiffy dresser. Today he wore cuff links though it was Denim Friday.

Thomas reminds me of Tom mostly because he dances like him. I don't mean in a club or some other dance setting. But he dances when he's waiting for food - in the lunch line or when choosing candy for the sleepy afternoons. He also dances while sitting in class; one can tell when he's figured out a problem. His shimmies are similar to Tom's when he learns that new comic books are released or when he's listening to songs about Christian vegetables or hears that Johnny Damon has a new haircut.

I would say that Thomas's style or intelligence reminds me of Tom, but it doesn't - just his dancing. Those other aspects are John's.

Also, John, one of my coworkers from Boston is gay (maybe) and he's cute - I think. He lives in the North End. And he's an actuary; he's a good provider. Anyway, I know you have Daniel and I'm not sure if it's improper for me to mention this or not - but I thought I would because every time I talk to this guy I think, "I like him. How can I introduce him to John?"

I've also met quite a few people from Philly, but I don't think any are worthy of Adina or Dan's time, especially given the fact that they're engaged now. Actually I don't like a good number of the people that I've met from the Philadelphia office.

Half Day

We only had a half day of class today. Boy did I need the break. I had originally thought that I would spend the afternoon exploring Atlanta, but instead, my friends and I walked around the local mall. We didn't even see a movie as we had originally planned. But Jison did get a pedicure.

Trivia went well last night. There were four rounds of ten questions each. We placed third; prizes went to the first two teams. Our team name was "Get it in There," which is a phrase that our instructor has been using all week - long story, not very good story either. But my teammates thought it was great. The questions weren't nearly as difficult as the ones I'm used to at Our House, but it was still a good deal of fun. How did Al Capone die? What were the only two states to join the Union on the same day? In what city were the Dirty Harry movie set?

Actuarially Excited

Do you know why 40-some actuaries - all in their 20s are excited? Because we found a local bar with trivia. I am with my people. My fellow dorks.

Jumper

The hotel has a large open area in the center to where all the rooms open up. On the ground floor there are fountains and tables in that center area where people eat and meet. The hotel rooms all face this open space so that we can look over a railing down to the lobby. The other day, while we were at lecture, a former employee of the hotel jumped from the 16th floor to the lobby. I don't know the whole story, but there is still a tarp covering up part of the fountain and garden area. I wonder if there is a chalk outline under the tarp. Do cops still use chalk outlines?

Typical Day in Atlanta

I am in Atlanta for an internal company seminar on Actuarial Mathematics. About forty coworkers of mine are here - staying in the same hotel, eating out, galavanting about town and whatnot. I want to go home. I'm tired of eating out and sleeping in this giant bed. I'm really sick of studying. This seminar is intense. We're here for 8 days. We are in class for 8 hours each day. And then some people study at night too! While others spend their evenings checking out the bars, going to the gym, enjoying the hotel's complimentary happy hour, and blogging.

I feel like I've been here for a long time, but it's only been a few days. And my days aren't too jam-packed either. Here is a typical day in Atlanta:

6:00 - The alarm goes off.
6:01 - I fumble with the hotel clock.
6:30 - Turn on shower.
6:35 - The water finally is hot and I shower.
7:00 - Complimentary breakfast, usually with a coworker whose name I can't remember.
7:20 - The first shuttle leaves for the office.
8:00 - Class begins.
8:00-12:00 - Lecture, interupted by hung-over coworkers stumbling into the room throughout the morning.
Noon - Lunch, traditionally something very heavy and Southern.
12:37 - Back to lecture (The class was split between evenly between 30- or 45-minute lunches, so we settled on the average. We're actuaries.)
4:37 - Class ends and we are set free. The shuttle takes us back to the hotel, but I always walk.

After class I sometimes run at the gym, but one day some friends and I stayed at the office to study more. It was grueling. Actually it was extremely helpful to work alongside peers.

5:30-7:30 - Complimentary happy hour.
7:00 - Meet in the lobby to go for dinner. Organize the shuttle. This is extremely difficult as we still don't know most people's names. We also don't know who wants to go to eat with us, and there are some whom I don't want to eat with. Also, there are 40 of us, how do we politely keep our numbers down. Especially because my group is clearly the cool clique. (Yeah, I may have the gold medal but it's still the special olympics.) We're actuaries, remember.
9:00 - Back at the hotel to study or out to drink.


Newsflash, kiddos: We found a bar with Trivia Night on Wednesday. We're going to dominate. And I'm not the one who found it. Luic, the bitter Parisian suggested we go after he read an advertisement above a urinal. And Thomas, the South Carolinian Libertarian, who is a cross between Tom and JohnnyBombay fully endorsed it. Thomas also speaks with a French accent, but that's just to make fun of Luic. They should be good for clever team names. On a sidenote, Thomas did not see the advertisement because he used the ladies' room. We were at an Irish Pub and we couldn't figure out which restroom was which. However, when I walked into the wrong bathroom, I noticed that there were no urinals and turned right around.

This post is costing me $10

I'm in Atlanta, learning about Actuarial Mathematics. I finally bought a wireless adapter. My hotel charges me $10 to use their wireless internet. Rip off. I'm not sure if I should be charging it to my company. If I were doing any work, I would but I'm really paying just to blog - and to read the email from my friends who have moved recently.

I am meeting my coworkers for dinner (and free cocktail hour!). Gotta go.

I'll have details later. They'll include the guy that is a cross between Tom and John, the engagement, the suicide in the hotel, a penis veil, a short cop tackling an actuary, and so much more.

Also, I need to fill you in on my new roommate, Jake.