Widespread Potcloud

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I thoroughly enjoy my second job even if I have only worked a few events thus far. I can say I have learned quite a bit already. Important things like such as Aretha Franklin can still bring down the house after all these years and it takes a bit to get used to standing still for hours at a time. At the Widespread Panic concert tonight, however, my knowledge base expanded significantly (or maybe it was my consciousness expanding…), so much so that I feel the need to share. And in list form, no less!

  1. I am high. I have been to a large number of concerts over the years but none has ever matched the intensity of the pot haze surrounding this crowd. Once the doors closed, the lights shown brightly through a lovely fog. I can see why the band requires an intermission halfway through the show. Initially, I thought it was so they could refresh their own buzz but now I am inclined to believe that they want to give the room a chance to clear up a bit before the fog solidified. If I had planned better, I would have parked a mobile food truck across the street and stocked that puppy with White Castle, Taco Bell, and Doritos. Personally, I could go for some icing.
  2. Widespread Panic fans are passionate people and if they find out you have not been to one of their concerts before, you suddenly find yourself with a new friend and guide. For instance, did you know that Widespread Panic never plays the same set list? Or that the “new” guitarist has only recently begun to find his rhythm with the rest of the band? Mainly, however, these fans just want you tell them how much fun you are having or how great it sounds.
  3. I lie a lot and do it convincingly with a smile on my face. Had you seen me tonight, you would have thought I was having the time of my life. My new friends gave me hugs and high fives as we shared in the moment. In reality, jam bands still bore me and I stifled more than one yawn. I wanted nothing more than a large glass of water and a comfy spot on my couch, which I finally got a few short minutes ago. Bed is next. Pure bliss. I am glad I am not waiting in line at the White Castle drive-through.

New England Getaway

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I have written drunk posts in the past so I figured I should write one while still half-asleep to see how that turns out.

As promised, I am finally sitting down to draw up a summary of my mini-vacation in New Haven, CT. I took a walk on the beach, took in a play at the Yale Rep, and spent time lounging in Central Park. No, it was not a romantic affair but a much-needed break from the everyday.

I cannot thank my friends Liz and Lyle enough for opening up their house to me and introducing Brownie Pie into my life. I am quite certain that their dog was not amused by my presence since it meant a weekend of isolation but I assume they have more than made up for their lack of attention by this time.

I have already gone on ad nauseum about the Sterling Library at Yale so I will let it go but I must point out that the rest of campus is filled with great architecture and worth the trip to see. I especially enjoyed the Beinecke Rare Book Library and the Yale Art Museum. Of course, I am bit prejudiced when it comes to the museum since I attended my first Ivy League class in that building but no matter. I gawked at the physical structures along with the multiple Asian tour groups crisscrossing campus that weekend.

I try to keep these posts from growing exponentially long so I will dispense with most of the details and stick to the lessons learned. Weekends with great friends remind me that I need to take advantage of the opportunities in front of me. If someone offers a weekend away, it is worth the money to go. Not only do I get a mental break but it also gives the hosts an chance to be a tourist in their own city for a while and show off the best of what the area offers. I also realize that I need to make a greater effort to remain in contact with people. It should not have taken me a decade (I still have trouble believing it has been that long) to visit Lyle in person. That is ridiculous! And lastly, I love to fly and explore new places. Every time I am taking off on a plane, a huge smile emerges because I know that in just a short while, I will be landing somewhere different. Even coming home is nice since I usually return refreshed and excited about St. Louis. (Now if I could only get Gazz to commit to visiting!)

Dream Home

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After many years of thorough searching, I have found it. I have located my dream house. It is an unusual choice for most people and is not located in the St. Louis metropolitan area, which is especially notable because we are blessed with beautiful architectural gems on nearly every street. I feel like I have cheated on my city just saying this but my dream home is the Sterling Memorial Library at Yale. This building is a Gothic cathedral dedicated solely to the pursuit of knowledge, my unceasing love of learning drawing me in. It is not simply the fact that it is a spectacular library filled to bursting with books of all subjects, it is also the building itself, with its obvious reference to a place of worship and solemnity. I wanted to storm the place, snapping a thousand photos, but the quiet elegance of the building held me back. I walked behind Lyle as he pointed out various reading rooms and special collections, all the time searching for the perfect hiding place so that I could be locked inside at closing time, free to roam the stacks at my leisure. What an amazing place! If only Yale would bother to set up a website suitable for linking to this precious jewel. Photographs would not do it proper justice but at least I could flip through them and daydream about midnight adventures leafing through books on every subject under the sun. Alas, I am left with the few photos I forced myself to snap and a lingering desire to immerse myself in schoolwork.

I spent the entire weekend with my friends, Liz and Lyle, and there is much more to share but that will have to wait for another post. I would hate to jump back into the swing of things too quickly and pull a mental muscle.

Blue Note

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My Blue home opener wigJoyful news! Yesterday, I got my grubby hands on my Blues partial season tickets! I went in with a couple coworkers to get a ten-game pack and with the season knocking on the door, I was starting to wonder when the tickets would arrive. I have been contemplating my attire for the home opener, debating whether a new blue wig is in order or if I should stick to my tried and true one. See photo for more details. I am rocking my Tkachuk jersey at this point but I believe this year, I will bust out my plain Reebok home sweater since I bought it late in the season last year and had only a few games to break it in. Now is the time of year to purchase a new wig, though, so if that is the consensus, I will have to get moving.

My season prep list is well underway. I assessed the priority need for a new sweater (high). I marked my calendar with the corresponding dates of my ten-game pack (last month, in fact). I am reading St. Louis Game Time (daily, if not more frequently). The last thing I have to decide is what to do about all the other games I am not attending. I do not currently have cable and am really reluctant to give Charter another dime since I already feel that my internet connection is a waste of money since it frequently goes out. But if I do not pay for it, will I be able to adequately follow my favorite team? I can always stream the radio broadcast, which hands down has better announcers than the TV version (Darren Pang is beyond awful), but will that be enough? I could head to a bar to watch but then I have to pay for drinks. I could annoy my friends enough to let me visit for the games but I have a feeling that will wear on their nerves rather quickly. It is a thorny problem and one that needs a solution fairly soon.

LGB! The countdown to October 8th has begun!

 

 

Phone-a-thon

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As part of my efforts to work on my Curb List (and to be a more active member of the St. Louis community), I volunteered last week at a local charity. I had a couple hours to spare one afternoon so I emailed my contact there and offered my services. Stephanie quickly responded that they were working on an official orientation but that since they needed in-office help, it would be ok for me to skip it and start immediately. My one and only thought was that getting a new full time job should be this easy. I probably would have tried out about ten new careers by this point.

After making all the proper scheduling arrangements, I dutifully showed up on time and in good spirits. We introduced ourselves and she printed off a number of pages before leading me downstairs to a cubicle, only to discover that the computer that was once there has disappeared. Fortunately, there was another space for me to use, complete with a computer that worked. As an aside, this was nearly magical to me as my day job for the man has me using a computer that frequently crashes, is never updated, and loads a browser window in just under five minutes.

Everything seems great, right? And it was until Stephanie turned to me and said that I was going to be making phone calls. I groaned internally, though I think I managed to keep my face carefully arranged in a smile. There is very little in this world that I loathe more than talking on the telephone and here she was, asking me to make approximately 150 phone calls in three different cities. I could not say no so for the next couple hours, I did my best to speak clearly and concisely because I am a “professional” (Stephanie said it not me). After making it through the list of contacts in the first two cities, I noticed that the third one had some comments noting that phone calls had been placed about a week prior. I diligently called Stephanie back to my desk since I would hate to duplicate services and she agreed that I had done the right thing, saying that she was unsure who made the phone calls or what exactly they were about. Then she looked at me and said that she would have to figure it out and that I could leave if I wanted. I nearly jumped up and ran out of the building, I was so thrilled to be released from the phone bank.  After exchanging several more rounds of pleasantries, I even agreed to come back at some point. I intend to keep my word on this but I also know now that I should be more careful and ask what types of activities are available to volunteers.

Epic Nerdery

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I am frustrated. For the past few nights, instead of blogging, I have been playing a MMORPG and I could not get Vent set up tonight. Does that explain everything to you? If so, you are probably about as big of a nerd as I am and need no further explanation. However, in the interest of inclusiveness, I will translate from geek-speak to English. One of my favorite persons in the universe (real or fictional), Gazz, invited me to try Rift, a Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game (light bulbs are turning on as I type, I see), a few days ago. I have been known to dip into WoW on occasion, though usually only in the dead of winter when even the thought of going outside to grab a beer sends shivers down my spine. This time, however, Gazz sent me a free seven-day trial that automatically sets his characters up in my friend list and allows me to play on European servers if I so choose. Two words: yes, please! I typically level on my own since I am not the most social creature and I hate being called a noob. Oh, and I am not prone to researching the most effective and efficient way to play based on my personal gaming style. I grew up on Atari with a controller that only offered the choice of up, down, left, right, or the fire button. No customization there. So I am reluctant to show off my lack of seriousness to just anyone but I figured that I have been clear enough about my play style that he should know exactly what to expect while teaming up with me. I know for a fact that he is a good player since he is in a guild, researches the best strategies/weapons/spells, uses the correct terminology for in-game items, and…well…you know…cares. Naturally, I was (and remain) a bit nervous about playing alongside such dignitaries.

Back to the point: I tried to set up Ventrilo so that I could listen to Gazz’s beautiful British accent while mauling enemies. No such luck. The software downloaded, the server is correctly connected, but my laptop decided that sending and receiving sound was a step too far. I could faintly hear his voice from across the pond but was completely unable to get the settings corrected. Maybe it is the glass of wine (or several) I drank, maybe it is my laptop being uncooperative but either way, my night has been destroyed. Sure, Gazz and I took our respective toons out to maim and kill. Well, I did my best to maim and kill while he kept me alive but the point is, it would have been a thousand times easier if he could have simply told me I was being a noob instead of typing the same sentiment out via the in-game chat feature. And I would have had the pleasure of being told I sucked in softly accented English, as opposed to listening to the harsh clicking of my keyboard. Ugh!

On a more disappointing note, I apparently cuss significantly more than either his guild mates or the game appreciates. Gazz had to go searching for the filter section in the options menu so that he was able to fully appreciate everything I expressed although he has been playing this game since the beta version was out. I mean, really?  I turned my own filter off within five minutes. Do people on the European servers act that nice to each other? No trash talk? I might have to switch back to good ol’ American servers so as not to offend the sensitive UK nerds. Fuck yeah!

**Update: This post has been sober-edited for content and clarity. Though it still contains a number of issues, I am leaving them to remind myself not to hit the post button until sobriety returns.

Introspection

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Today’s post is not going to be a particularly upbeat one so if that is what you were seeking, you may want to drop by another time. I am feeling introspective today (translate: sad and depressed) and it only has a little to do with the anniversary of the towers falling. That particular event sets the tone and makes it ok for me to feel down in the dumps or so I keep telling myself.

I woke up feeling restless and with some lingering pain in my calf. I know this is not the brightest idea I have ever had but I needed to leave the house so I did what I always do and made for the hills outside Grafton, IL, for a short hike. I am still trying to make up for last week but I am starting to believe that this is moving beyond doing good for myself. Maybe it is the multitudes of tributes and memorial services that is forcing this train of thought or maybe it goes deeper inside to my attempts to ascribe greater meaning to my life but I feel I am not doing enough. I am not sure how I can best serve my community. I am doing a lot of searching, both internally and externally, and I hope that one day I will have not necessarily an answer but at least a good start down that road.

Also, The Ex is a massive coward and I will leave it at that.

BT/GT I

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The above acronym stands for Bad Thing/Good Thing and since that is the entire goal of this site, I assume I will use it frequently so you might want to keep that nugget of info close at hand.

I am still trying to atone for last weekend when my parents came to visit. I did nothing but eat, drink, and be merry (even if it was somewhat forced at times). Do not misunderstand me: it was a great weekend overall. I just did not appreciate having my many cleaning flaws pointed out to me. I am more than aware of my lack of enthusiasm for day-to-day household work, thank you very much, and at this point, I do not see my habits changing significantly. Moving beyond that, the weekend accounted for a massive uptick in the scale, which normally would not upset me but I am in the final days of a weight loss challenge at work and until this point, was doing really well.

Adding to the list of things in the bad category was the mid-week beer school, a night spent chatting with Gazz in the UK with glass of wine in hand, and an evening out helping my friend Jenn learn that acceptance is found somewhere near the bottom of a glass of Schlafly’s Pumpkin Ale. Not a bad week in my opinion but it also means that my balance sheet is quite a bit off kilter.

That leads me to today and the brief, sad tale of my attempt to chip away at my debt. I was up fairly early so I threw on some gym clothes and set off down the street. Missy had given me a fairly straightforward CrossFit workout to try. I have never done one before but I dutifully put it in my phone for reference and promised to try it. That was about two weeks ago. I forced myself to push through it, especially since the entire sequence only took me about forty minutes. My calf muscle is still not running at 100% but I made it, putting a small chip on the good thing side of the scale.

I Got Schooled

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Zwickel paired with potato leek fritter

First course

Just when I think I have a night with no plans, a friend steps in to fill that void. At yoga over lunch, Jenn told me about a beer tasting this evening at The Dubliner. She sent me a text with the details, the most important one was the word “free”. I could not pass up such an important opportunity to sample beers from Urban Chestnut paired with small bites of food for no cost to yours truly, who is rather broke at the moment. They were kind enough to class it up by serving very generous pours in wine glasses. That is not to say that this is helping me win the weight loss challenge at work but it definitely put me in a better mood. Yesterday, Missy managed to hold me to one four-ounce pour of Maharaja, which is my favorite beer currently. I felt that it was ok for me to have a couple tonight since I was such a good kid yesterday. One good thing, one bad thing. Right?

Dubliner's Beer School menu

The evening's bill of fare

For those curious folks, I snapped a photo of the program so that you can be jealous of all you missed. The food tended a bit heavily towards the meat and potatoes variety, which worked really well with the old school German brews. This was especially true of the peppery brat served with the Winged Nut, which is brewed with milled chestnuts. The head brewer was at that tasting and I told him that this beverage leaves me wanting more. To me, it should really pop with nutty flavor and this one is not heavy enough to support that. He said they are working on a higher gravity version for an upcoming anniversary event. That could be an exciting event but back to tonight. In my opinion, the real star of the tasting was the Hopfen. I admit that I tend to prefer a hoppy beverage but I think this is the first beer from this young brewery that I feel has the qualities to stand up to the test of time. Many of their beers taste very similar to each other and this one is a neat stretch away from the usual. I look forward to tasting more from them as they really start to experiment and mix styles to create truly unique beers.

One final thought and I am signing off. It took forever but I did actually speak to the hiring manager about the job in DC. We spoke for nearly an hour and I hung up the phone with the impression that I was interviewing her more than she was interviewing me. It is a good thing she clarified that a phone interview would be set up in the coming week since I was not entirely sure what category this particular conversation fell into: job interview, informational interview, casual chat. I immediately called home and told my dad that it was one of the strangest conversations I have had in quite some time. And for the record, it is not a good idea to put someone on speaker phone and then constantly play with the scroll wheel on your mouse. Just sayin’.

 

 

Daydreams

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My parents were in town this weekend and I am not sure if the purpose was to visit me or to clean my dirty apartment. I feel bad that they drove all the way over here from Indiana to spend several hours trying to undo months of laziness on my part. Even my father felt the need to get in on things and comment on the disaster. Personally, I can take his statements with a heart-stopping dose of salt since he cleans even less often than I do but it does not change the fact that my parents are wonderful people who are always there for me when I fail to do even the most basic things for myself. I promise I will grow up one day, Mom, though if it is anything like my promise to sweep the floors once a week, it may take some time before it becomes reality.

My parents chose the ungodly hour of 5:30 am to shove off for home. Normally, this would not bother me but I had to get up and let them out of the garage. I was able to return to sleep fairly quickly but the disturbance left me feeling rather groggy all day. When I finally woke up, I decided I needed to find a somewhat easy hike to make up for both this weekend and the fact that I had not been able to exercise since last Thursday, when I attempted to tear my left calf muscle in half. I settled on the Columbia Bottom Conservation Area since it is close to home, making it easy to do as a last minute idea.

Columbia Bottoms Conversation Area scenery

Gorgeous day for a hike

I made a really important discovery today: hiking is my personalized form of therapy. I enjoy going alone because about halfway through, my thoughts drift to everything that has happened and I am able to take all the hurt, anger, and disappointment and roll it up into a driving force that pushes me to pound out the miles in a short period of time. I try to occupy myself with daydreams of a new job or new adventures but somewhere along the way, I lose that train of thought. Suddenly, I am relentlessly pushing through the roughage with nary a glance to either side and when this thought line is finished, I am left feeling exhausted and empty. Today, for example, I lost steam with about 3/4 of a mile of trail left and I could barely finish. My shoulders slumped and I could hardly lift my feet to take a step. My next goal is to learn how to sustain this drive and focus it on other tasks like running in hopes that I can use it to finish a 5K without passing out.