Resolutions

Since New Year's Eve is upon us, I thought I'd write down my New Year's resolutions so that I can check back in one year to see if I've actually accomplished any of them. Here we go...

1. Quit being such a dick. It has come to my attention that I sometimes act like a dick. Not on purpose, mind you, but just through the natural course of being me. So for 2007, I'm going to stop acting like a dick.

2. Shut my mouth. This really should be 1a) but for the sake of the list I'll make it #2. You see, I don't really know when to shut my mouth and it always gets me in stupid situations or makes me look like, well, a dick. So, I'm going to shut my mouth this year in hopes that I can kill two birds with one stone.

3. Use the phrase "Be that as it may" more often. I thought of this one last night while taking a piss and it seemed like a good idea. This phrase needs to be used more often because it sounds pretentious and arrogant. Oh wait, I've stopped being a dick this year. Ok. Well, I can have this thing, right?

4. Write a TV show. I came up with two really good TV show ideas in 2006 and started telling people (read: girls at bars) that I'm working on developing a TV show. I'd tell them the idea, they'd feign interest, and then they'd go back to talking to their boyfriends. So, for 2007, I'm actually going to write the TV shows so that I can carry around a copy of the script and wave it in front of their bitchy little faces.

5. Take the GMAT and go to grad school. Why? Because I hate myself and want to spend 3 years in my mid-20's going back to school. That's why.

6. Make sure the total number of items I write in a list is divisible by 5. To have a list with anything else just feels creepy.

See?

You guys have a good New Year. I'll seeya in '07.

Meet me in St. Louis

I recently took a work related trip out to St. Louis and thought that since this blog is supposed to be a reflection on life as a twenty-something working professional, I'd actually write about something work related. So here are my thoughts of my 26 hours in St. Louis. (Actually, I worked out of Clayton, MO which is a suburb of St. Louis, but let's not get hung up on the details.)

- I took a puddle jumper (read: small ass plane powered by a 9-volt battery) from Cleveland into St. Louis. The Cleveland airport is set up to have the puddle jumper terminal separate from the normal sized plane terminal so that a.) the small ass planes don't get jacked up by the jet streams of the big ass planes and b.) so that the passengers taking the puddle jumpers are forced to walk into a different county in order to board the "aircraft". I chose to wear a suit on the plane so that I could wear it the next day for my meetings and not have to pack an extra one. But in my packing logic, I never counted on the fact that I would be walking through an unusually muggy airport for a half an hour. I suffer from Sweaty Polish Disease, whose symptoms are sweating whenever any type of physical activity is involved. Hence, I was left making my own gravy in my Hanes boxer briefs prior to a 90 minute flight. Not a good way to start the trip.

- When I got to St Louis, I realized that Monday Night Football was in town when I noticed the plethora of Ditka loving Bears fans roaming the airport. Since Todd and the Superfans decided to be in town the same time I was, I wasn't left with too many rental car choices. My company had reserved a mid-size for me, but they were all out, so I was left to choose between a mini-van or an SUV. I obviously went for the SUV.

Big. Mistake.

This thing - a Chevy of some sorts - was about 4 feet wider than my '99 Honda Accord (what's up, ladies?) and I was forced to navigate the streets of St. Louis like a 90 year old man in a '78 Cadillac. If you need to rent a car, rent one that you can actually drive; not the one that middle aged men drive to compensate for some of life's other shortcomings.

- A former colleague of mine just transfered to the St. Louis office, so we met up for dinner and drinks that night. The great thing about traveling is being able to expense your meals. Since my company has a $75 limit per meal, you can treat co-workers to dinner without going over the limit if you play your hand right and go to a middle-of-the-road bar and grille. That's exactly what we did and we enjoyed some local brews (not Budweiser) and some good food. There's no joke here, so don't go looking for one.

- My buddy took off after dinner, so I went out to a local pub to watch the MNF game. One of the downsides of traveling alone is being forced to drink alone. Yeah, I know I could probably have just gone up to my hotel room, but where's the fun in that? I headed out to an Irish bar and drank a few Guinness while watching the Bears put a beat down on the Rams. Afterwards, I went back to the hotel bar and had a few more pints there.

If you've never been to a hotel bar, they are nothing like what is pictured in the movies. There are no interesting people down there, only middle aged business men looking to find the one business woman who they might be able to flirt with a little bit. And when there isn't a business woman down there, these guys will try striking up a conversation with you. If you don't slam your beer right away, be prepared to hear about their entire life stories for the next 3 hours. It's a mind numbing experience, so you should probably just stay away from hotel bars.

- While at the hotel bar, I started digging into the snack mix in front of me. A few bites in, I realized that what I was doing was the equivalent of eating out of a toilet bowl since it was a communal bowl of snack mix. Even though I knew this, I kept on eating it. I have no idea why, either. I wasn't even hungry. Needless to say, I brushed my teeth at least a dozen times that night.

- I fell asleep with the TV on HBO and I woke up around 2:30-ish to what I thought was an, ahem, adult film. There were two women in a swimming pool showing each other some, um, affection. Thinking I had a.) lucked out or b.) accidentally ordered a porn I watched for a few more moments. My luck quickly ran out when the scene cut to Steven Baldwin and Pauly Shore on the side of the pool watching these two women and I realized that HBO was showing "Biodome" at 2:30 in the morning. Great. Thanks for nothing, HBO.

- Oh, and I did some work stuff, too. But you guys don't want to hear about that.

Awesomely Awkward

I'm going to start a new feature on here called Awesomely Awkward in which I present you, the fine reader, with an awesomely awkward situation that I have recently encountered. It could be work related or personal or even something I saw on the news. But each situation will be so awkward and uncomfortable that it is, inherently awesome. So sit back, relax, and be prepared to squirm in your seat a little bit.

Besides wasting away my mid-twenties in Corporate America, I am also a singer-songwriter who performs in Cleveland area bars and music venues. My claim to fame is having played the mainstage at the House of Blues in Cleveland, but my more typical venues are local bars and taverns. By no means am I a big deal, but I do get recognized every once in a while by total strangers, which is pretty cool.

I started my fledgling music career in college by first playing bass in a band and then transitioning to my current solo status. While in college, I recorded a solo acoustic album of original material written for girls who didn't "like me that way, but thought I was a great guy." Sluts.

Anyway, I did manage to date a girl during that time who I'll call Bethany for the sake of anonymity. I never wrote Bethany a song or anything, but she was around when I was writing songs for other girls. Why she put up with this for the few months that we were together is beyond me, but it's all part of the set up, so just go with it.

I dated Bethany for 3 or 4 months, but still "saw her" after we broke up. I was 21 and she was 18 so our relationship consisted of me going out with friends to get drunk and then calling her up around 2:30 in the morning to see if she wanted to come over. It was a nice little arrangement at the time, but in retrospect was probably a pretty lousy thing for me to do. (I had to put in this last sentence for any girls that might be reading this so that I don't come off like a total creep. Whoops. Too late.)

After a few months of "seeing" each other, we finally pulled the proverbial feeding tube (worst. analogy. ever.) and would occasionally run into each other around town. By no means did we keep in touch or even attempt to. In my mind, that chapter of my life was closed.

Fast forward to Tuesday night...

I'm at home checking my MySpace account (yes, I'm 26 and I use MySpace. Shut up. A lot of people do.) and I see a message from Bethany. I was a little surprised since I hadn't thought of her all that much over the past 5 years, but I had heard through the grapevine that she had gotten engaged.

Now, what makes this little story the first installment of the Awesomely Awkward Series (TM) is that in addition to wanting to "catch up" she also asked me if I would play some songs for her at her wedding this spring.

(I wish I had the full e-mail to cut and paste, but I don't so I'll try and paraphrase.)

She mentioned that she was getting married this spring and that her and her fiance were talking about music and she thought it would be a good idea to have me, an ex-boyfriend, play at their wedding. She said that besides being taken care of financially, there was also something extra in it for me. (Honeymoon threesome? I wouldn't put it past her.) Bethany told me that she was always a big fan of my music and loved my voice and thought it would be perfect for her wedding. Apparently the fact that the two of us had been intimate together never crossed her mind or mattered to her. The fact that most of my songs are about the girls I can't get never crossed her mind either.

So that's the situation. Pretty awkward, huh? Pretty awesome too, huh? I'd say this is Awesomely Awkward.

I haven't written her back yet because honestly, I'm not sure if I would turn this down. First of all, I love weddings. Free food combined with an open bar is pretty spectacular. Plus, there's the chance that there are single women there who are feeling just lonely and desperate enough to talk to a guy like myself. Another plus side of going would be to write a song to the bride and groom about how I "got there first" just to ratchet up the level of awkwardness a few thousand degrees. The final upside of going would be to come back here and write about all of it.

Of course, I probably won't go because a.) it's in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee; b.) seeing an ex get married would probably be more sad than awkward; and c.) I've got better things to do with my time.

But if I did go... How awesomely awkward would that be? Pretty.

I hope you enjoyed the first installment of the Awesomely Awkward Series (TM). Seeing as I encounter various levels of awkwardness on a near daily level, expect a ton more of these. I'm getting excited just thinking about the possibilities.

Have a good weekend. I'll try and keep up with this thing more often.