Misreply.org

Part 1: http://www.misreply.org/2008/drunken-fury-part-1-the-ordination/
Part 2: http://www.misreply.org/2008/drunken-fury-the-penn-years-part-2/

Unsure whether I should laugh or wince in pain, I got up from my fetal position on Bill’s bed. I looked up and Firn was still holding that damned chair above my head. “Dude…really…”, I barely made out in between fits of laughter, “chill”. Twice now had that chair been dropped on my head. The first was a sucker punch of sorts; I really wasn’t expecting him to actually do it. Bill egged him on a second time, as my egg shaped head met the cloth of the backrest yet again. Once for each case, Firn, good job.

“Why are we in here, my room is like six times the size.”
“Yea good point…I really have no idea, I just wanted to bust Bill’s balls about Diablo.”
“The kid failed Calc because of that game, and you are going to continue to torture him about it?”…I paused a bit and realized the comedy of my own statement, “Yea…good point.”

This seemed to be the trend that year. While it was in no way a regular occurrence, the few nights of debauchery that we had were well worth the year at Penn by themselves. This particular time, the second of our aptly named “Drunken Fury” get-togethers, happened to end with a chair on my head, and a session of Quake (You can truly tell a geek when some semblence of geekdom can shine through even after consuming enough booze to drown a small country).

A few weeks before that, Ryan’s girlfriend (actually,she was already his fiancee at the time…now an ex) had come up from Florida to visit us to celebrate our birthdays. Older than me by two weeks, her birthday being on the first of February and mine on the 16th, she decided to visit in between those two dates to bear witness to the genesis of Drunken Fury.

Preparations had been going on for the last week or so for this event. It was a typical faux Philadelphia winter; temperature varying from the uncanny 70 degree days in January to the negative 5 degree temperatures that week…but no snow. There’s just something not right about a NorthEast winter without snow…

“But dad, I want to build a fortress!”, I screamed as I looked at the four feet of snow outside.
“Yea…well, first you have to get the damned door open.”
After a few minutes of pushing, I stepped outside and breathed in the cool crisp air. I’d add “clean” to that list, but we’re in Philly, not Montana, and your chances of finding clean air are about as likely as getting the opportunity to bang Megan Fox tonight (unless you are banging Megan Fox tonight…in which case, I hate you). At age 11, wrapped up in three layers of clothing, a heavy waterproof jacket, hat, gloves, and boots, there is really nothing better than diving into a four foot mound of soft fresh snow. I don’t think anything else during the Blizzard of ’94 was more fun than that day in Fishtown.

That is the feeling that was missing that day. A cold February morning, no snow on the ground, just the knowledge that the days are going to be short and boring…but at least we had a dorm fridge full of Heineken, a bottle of Grey Goose, a fifth of Captain Morgan, and the loveliest liquor of them all: Bombay Sapphire.

“You going to help me with this shit?”, asked Ryan as I lazily looked up from whatever book it was that I happened to be reading.
“What are you talking about?”
“My TV…moving it in here.”
“Oh yea…give me a sec.”

Of the four of us at VP-313, Ryan tended to be the most impulsive of us all. In 2001, having a high definition TV was symbolic of godliness, so of course he had to have one. It arrived on a Saturday morning, and I felt bad for the Best Buy guys that had to carry the 150 pound juggernaut up three flights of stairs, as our dorm had no elevators. Helping carry it during move-out day, and subsequently moving it to my room at Doyne’s a few years later, I now know the torture those brave men faced. It’s not that it was really all that heavy, but it was unbalanced. What did you expect…it was a CRT, with heavy glass in the front, and oddly shaped plastic all around. A CRT…unheard of these days, but it was high def, goddamit (Not that the original XBox, Dreamcast, Gamecube, or the PS2 that we collectively owned would take advantage of it).

I felt bad for Bill…I really did. His girlfriend was over that night, so he wasn’t even able to fully enjoy the get together. Additionally, her random button mashing in Soul Calibur was coasting her to easy victories against Bill. I never really understood the term “whipped” until I saw the extent to which their relationship took it.

“Ok, who wants beer and who wants liquor?”, I asked as I grabbed a Heineken.
“Nothing for me”, replied Bill as Ryan grabbed the Bombay and poured it into a Styrofoam cup, filling it.
Everyone looked at Bill, anxious for his followup, “She’s not letting me drink yet.”

After fifteen minutes, Bill walked back into the room, followed by his girlfriend. Sharpie marker in hand, she laid out her terms. “He gets to have one drink, but I’m going to write shit all over his face.” As funny as we found it that she drew a few down arrows and boldly wrote “small penis” on his forehead, I wasn’t sure whether I was laughing at the sight of this or the sadness of the state of affairs. How could he let her do that…a man has to have some limits.

I took out the Italian Rum Cake my mom bought me and placed it on the chair. Within minutes, the sheer amount of rum in that cake had begun to seep through the box, staining the chair. “Well… I guess I’m not sitting on that one.”

We ate cake…then they left. I honestly did not even notice if Bill washed his face or not before leaving.

college, party

November 4th is quickly approaching, and the final debate between Obama and McCain took place last night. Many people are still undecided, some refuse to vote, while others defend their candidate with an almost annoying enthusiasm. That being said, there are a few things that generally annoy me about people.

1. Single issue voters. OH COME ON NOW! While I completely agree with the right for everyone to cast a vote, sometimes I feel that there should be some kind of common sense exam before one may vote. Just recently, a long-time friend of mine told me “you know…I agree with Obama on pretty much everything. I would get a pretty decent tax cut, and I think he is definitely better at foreign policy…hell, better at dealing with people in general than McCain could ever be, hell the last eight years sucked, and McCain is more of the same!”. I almost felt the but coming, but I decided to pre-empt it “So, you’ve made your choice already, I see…Go-Bama?”. “Nah, McCain dude….I like my guns.” Seriously…are you shitting me? While I chose to highlight this particular example, I have heard many such variations, except replace Obama with McCain, McCain with Obama, guns with abortion, foreign policy with the economy, and every variation thereof. “So do you know [Candidate X]‘s plan for [major national issue]?”. I asked…”Nah, but he is for [single controversial yet minor issue that won't affect the state of the nation or how it is perceived in the world], so…you know…”. Seriously, people, before you go out on November 4th, educate yourself on the issues. Don’t just watch Fox News/MSNBC, or read each party’s talking points. Give it some independent thought, some personal insight; read summaries of actual bills and proposals from the candidates instead of relying on the attacks the candidates make against each other, or their defenses.

2. Tying in somewhat with issue 1…lack of education regarding the actual policies of the candidates. As much as I would like to be able to be impressed by the inherent wisdom of my acquaintances, it is simply not the case; the majority (sadly) have not taken any initiative to become politically smart. They don’t see past the attacks, the talking points and the pundits “expert analysis” of the issues (of which the majority are party biased, depending on the station’s affiliation), and should not taint the Democratic process by blindly voting.

I don’t care who you vote for. I don’t care whether or not you will go straight Democrat, straight Republican, or vote for every possible independent candidate. Your vote is your vote, but please…make it an educated one. Don’t follow your friend’s advice, don’t vote for [Candidate X] because your parents want you to, and don’t vote for the entire package based on one tear in the wrapping paper.

But do make a difference.

General Stupidity, People

Narrative:
* a message that tells the particulars of an act or occurrence or course of events
* the systematic recitation of an event or series of events

Blog
* a Web site that contains an online personal journal with reflections, comments, and often hyperlinks provided by the writer

Like personal Twitter accounts, many blogs exist on the internet solely to act as validation for the author. Really, Bob, I don’t care that you went to the store today and bought cereal, nor do I care that you enjoyed last night’s episode of [whatever]. Granted, some people use them as an outlet to vent or to organize their thoughts. It’s the 21st Century version of “my secret diary”, except for the whole secret part.

Other blogs, on the other hand, have some narrative substance. Some are a joy to read. These authors have a vivid imagination, exceptional writing skills, and the ability to convey their thoughts to print. Do these outlets for storytelling still technically count as blogs, or are they in a class of their own? I don’t know, nor am I an authority to make such a classification. I’m sure you have your own opinion.

“Let me tell you what I heard today about Apple/Microsoft/etc … “, comments Bob, pretending to be an expert in the technological field, “it’s going to change technology as we know it”. On another site, probably even hosted on the same server, Sally writes: “…and today the polls show…”.

This brings me to one of the biggest paradoxes on the internet: news blogs. Finally, some real-world applicable substance… Is it still technically a blog if it’s written by a respected journalist…is the “blogosphere” an actual news outlet? It’s tough to say, and it depends who you ask. You will get answers ranging from a simple “it’s a blog” to “the blogosphere is real, aliens are coming!”. Personally, I consider news blogs to be a separate category. It’s news…but at the same time it’s someone’s personal interpretation of an event. Is that really any different from someone’s personal interpretation as it would appear on the front page of the New York Times?

When it comes down to it, I wholeheartedly support anyone that takes time out of their day to write. It doesn’t matter if they write political commentary, what they did the day before, their problems with significant others, or if they publish a book. Writing is becoming a lost art. I see the aggregate writing levels decreasing, and it worries me. Throughout the day, I read a lot of technical documentation: Technical documentation written by co-workers, documentation for software, and various miscellaneous web sites. Honestly, some of these are painful to read. I, admittedly, am a grammar Nazi, and I pay attention to elements of grammar as I read documentation. It pains me to see college graduates write the way they do. I feel that if they have the opportunity to write more often, then they should; their writing will improve greatly.

So I say: Read…read all you can so that you can become a better writer by example. Write blog posts, write narratives, write books, write letters. Write…write all you can.

People

September 19th was my last day of work at (company a). As I looked at my desk, now empty, I felt a strange sensation. It wasn’t regret, happiness, nerves, or nostalgia…but some odd combination of them all.

Most employees at (company) didn’t even know I was leaving that day until I sent my final goodbye email. I told my boss who went to his boss and HR, but for the most part, a limited number of people knew. Robin knew, Aaron knew, and Ryan knew. I kept it low key; no need to introduce more drama into a workplace filled with a plethora of it.

During the previous few weeks, I had been quietly scoping out other employment opportunities. In a chance encounter with a roller hockey buddy, he told me that he was leaving his position at (company b) to work for Lockheed Martin, and that (company b) was looking for a good IT guy. He asked me for my resume, which I happily provided, and waited.

I started at (company a) about four years ago. I was originally a part-time employee assisting Modo with the Broadcast portion of the company’s technological resources. I was still in college, and my internship with Comcast had just ended when Modo approached me asking if I was interested in working for his company. His co-worker had just quit, and he was having a difficult time managing everything on his own. He couldn’t take days off or go on a vacation as he was the only IT resource at corporate. Seeing as my source of income had just come to an end, I agreed to come in for an interview. Leaving out a bunch of superfluous details: I got the job offer fairly quickly and thus began my tenure.

I didn’t dislike (company a), nor was I unhappy while I was there. The degrees of freedom offered by the position and the cool attitude of most of the people made work fun for the most part, as long as there was something to do. Sure, a lot of the time, I was dealing with minuscule user issues that were “urgent emergencies”, but the rest of the time was either free time or project time. In reality, I could do what I wanted, come and go as I please, work from home if I needed to, and my drive was fairly short (minus I-76 traffic, of course).

I didn’t dislike my co-workers, despite some differences in how we did things. There was always a difference in what was considered “best practices” between Core and corporate. For the most part, while discussions would get heated over stupid shit, nobody held a grudge (well..hopefully, I can only speak for myself) despite both sides being stubborn and insistent.

For the most part…life was good, but; it was time to move on. My position never really had any kind of official title. I was the jack of all trades; the everything IT bitch. If it lit up, made beeping noises…hell, if it used electricity, it somehow fell under my domain. I felt that it was time for a change…to move into a position that has more clearly defined goals and responsibilities…something that (company b) offered.

To the peons at corporate: Was cool hanging out and talking to you on a daily basis. You will be missed…and I still owe you donuts.
To the towers peons: Good luck…damn, you’ll probably need it (your words, not mine!)
To the peons in Austin: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

work

Damn…no posts in September. I’m really slipping here. I have some posts started, but I haven’t actually finished any writing.

Lots of new news involving cars, jobs, friends and other randomness…just no time to write anything in detail about it.

Soon…

Updates