Friday, November 04, 2005
It's baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack
Are you ready, kids? BAMF!! Mayday is here again. This weekend, the 24-hour-film-festival-slash-psych-yourself-up-for-suicide-extravaganza takes hold. I've been pretty excited about it for much of the week. Yet, also much of this week, I've been exhausted. That doesn't bode well for pulling an all-nighter while maintaining a high level of energy. But this year we have some, uh, fluids to help us sustain. VAMP NRG drink. Holy fart, dudes, we're going to VAMP NRG drink ourselves into hyper oblivion. Oh God, the crash is going to be so painful. Hey, wanna watch some of the entries from the last Mayday? BOOM! Just click on 'em, damn it! Yours truly is attached to Team Lower Gatsby. Naturally.
As his been customary of late, I can't just leave this post at one topic, but the following may be loosely connected to how enthused I am about the weekend (soon, I'll have a weekend to be lazy and do nothing. Soon...) and it doesn't even have jack shit to do with stupid sports, so bare with me on this. I've mentioned this wedding from last week a couple times and I think it's finally crystalized in my head. Leading up to it, I was just so happy to be there. Being home in Phoenix, catching up with my folks who are selling their house, hanging with some of my oldest friends and watching college football, mingling with some of my new-found friend from the bachelor party a couple weeks earlier -- my mind was put at ease a bit. I didn't find myself angry about anything for those couple days. Taking off work on Friday probably helped a lot with that. Wait, where am I going with this? I don't even really know myself anymore. Stream of consciousness, etc. Oh yeah, so at this wedding, there are a bevvy of desirable, really awesome ladies. Some my age, some a couple years older but still young enough to play with. Anyway, they all had something in common. Either A) they're in a serious relationship or B) they're already married. Ack! Married? No! And it finally dawned on me that I'm now at about the age where it's customary to bring dates/fiances/spouses to weddings. You know something? It freaked me out. A lot. I hit that open bar like there was no tomorrow. Now, I certainly made my share of friends with the wives and was mostly relaxed for the evening (booze), but that notion of being in a relationship signifying adulthood just lingered in the back of my head. I'll admit, it had me feeling like a bit of a sideline player, which isn't too out of line from some of my previous thinking. Who are you in the stage production of life? You may dream big, act big, but utlimately your time won't come. Ever. That was me. Depressing, isn't it? A little morose, you might say. But this wedding changed my perspective a little. Just took a few days for me to get it.
There was an aunt on the bride's side of the family who cornered me at one of the tables late on in the reception while people were dancing. Some of the younger, playful wives had pointed me out to her as someone to talk to. The night was growing late and the crowd beginning to dissipate and she clearly had embibed some spirits. Funny lady from Georgia. In her 50s, I'd say. No, this isn't a Mrs. Robinson story, but stay with me. Auntie Georgia has a daughter dancing on the other side of the room. I know this because she slurred her words into my ear informing me of it. Several times. She wasn't blitzed or anything, but just tipsy enough to loosen up and court hansome gentlemen on behalf of her daughter. "See that girl over there? That's my daughter. She's a doctor -- an optometrist. So, she's a doctor!" I'm amused at her enthusiasm and can't help but smile, "Wow. That's really impressive. You must be so proud." But, you know, I didn't sound like so much of a smug prick saying it. Anyway, Auntie goes on, "She's 28. My daughter is 28. And she's a doctor... (here it comes, inevitable as ever) and she's single. Isn't she attractive? And she's a doctor. She could take care of you." And you know what? In my haze I remember the daughter being a good-looking girl. I'm not sure how many vodka & sodas I'd downed at the point, but she was cute. I don't quite remember what I said next (booze), but I endeared myself to this woman rather quickly and in no time she was leaning on my shoulder and laughing while skimming her hands through my hair... for a bit. Awkward? Maybe. Her daughter sees us. Okay, it's awkward. But I'm not breaking character. I'm still buzzed, adorable me. "She's single and she's an optometrist which is an eye doctor. And she's 28," Auntie Georgia carries on, now pointing at her daughter from across the room. Poor girl has to be mortified by her mom. In fact, she is going out of her way not to make eye contact. And that's fine. Seems the classy thing for me to do would be to not call attention to it. I don't and not a moment later I'm whisked away to another conversation by some people I had just met wanting me to meet their friends. "You have a lovely daughter," I say as I'm separated from Auntie Georgia. "But unfortunately she's on the other side of the country. She's an optometrist, though, and attractive and a snappy dancer. Plus you say she loves to cook. I know she'll land some incredible guy." Auntie wanted that guy to be me, but she was flattered all the same by the compliments for her daughter and ran her fingers through my hair one more time.
Now I'm off talking to a group of girls about 6-8 years older than me. They're all married. Some of their hubbies drop in and I'm a hit with them, too. I'm cursing those guys for having married these girls and the lonely sideline player is causing a ruckus in the back of my head, but it's all good. I'm getting hugs from people I just met as they leave and more than one, "Where's your girlfriend?" or "I should fix you up with my sister in L.A." It's a little flattering. As much I've just realized this very second as I'm typing this that I might sound like a giant douche writing about this, those cheers, I've come to realize, are empowering. Things this week felt a little less down and brown. One of the groomsmen I had met a couple weeks earlier at the bachelor party in Vegas. He's married to a beautiful, awesome wife (one of my good buddies that night while he was busy with the wedding party for much of the evening), wildly successful business man, very intelligent, sees all the angles and has the stories to back them up. You might say he's one of my favorite people I've ever met. Someone whose example I should follow. Things are amazing for this guy and he got me to realizing without saying it that I've got all the tools to be everyone's dream already. I just need to realize how well I use them.
So yeah, Mayday this weekend, LA Kings are in first place, Lakers' season is underway, certain people in the office (no, not me) are out the door for good in a week's time, prospects are out there both socially and professionally -- networking is at a high. Three times a week at the gym.
Alright. Let's roll.
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As his been customary of late, I can't just leave this post at one topic, but the following may be loosely connected to how enthused I am about the weekend (soon, I'll have a weekend to be lazy and do nothing. Soon...) and it doesn't even have jack shit to do with stupid sports, so bare with me on this. I've mentioned this wedding from last week a couple times and I think it's finally crystalized in my head. Leading up to it, I was just so happy to be there. Being home in Phoenix, catching up with my folks who are selling their house, hanging with some of my oldest friends and watching college football, mingling with some of my new-found friend from the bachelor party a couple weeks earlier -- my mind was put at ease a bit. I didn't find myself angry about anything for those couple days. Taking off work on Friday probably helped a lot with that. Wait, where am I going with this? I don't even really know myself anymore. Stream of consciousness, etc. Oh yeah, so at this wedding, there are a bevvy of desirable, really awesome ladies. Some my age, some a couple years older but still young enough to play with. Anyway, they all had something in common. Either A) they're in a serious relationship or B) they're already married. Ack! Married? No! And it finally dawned on me that I'm now at about the age where it's customary to bring dates/fiances/spouses to weddings. You know something? It freaked me out. A lot. I hit that open bar like there was no tomorrow. Now, I certainly made my share of friends with the wives and was mostly relaxed for the evening (booze), but that notion of being in a relationship signifying adulthood just lingered in the back of my head. I'll admit, it had me feeling like a bit of a sideline player, which isn't too out of line from some of my previous thinking. Who are you in the stage production of life? You may dream big, act big, but utlimately your time won't come. Ever. That was me. Depressing, isn't it? A little morose, you might say. But this wedding changed my perspective a little. Just took a few days for me to get it.
There was an aunt on the bride's side of the family who cornered me at one of the tables late on in the reception while people were dancing. Some of the younger, playful wives had pointed me out to her as someone to talk to. The night was growing late and the crowd beginning to dissipate and she clearly had embibed some spirits. Funny lady from Georgia. In her 50s, I'd say. No, this isn't a Mrs. Robinson story, but stay with me. Auntie Georgia has a daughter dancing on the other side of the room. I know this because she slurred her words into my ear informing me of it. Several times. She wasn't blitzed or anything, but just tipsy enough to loosen up and court hansome gentlemen on behalf of her daughter. "See that girl over there? That's my daughter. She's a doctor -- an optometrist. So, she's a doctor!" I'm amused at her enthusiasm and can't help but smile, "Wow. That's really impressive. You must be so proud." But, you know, I didn't sound like so much of a smug prick saying it. Anyway, Auntie goes on, "She's 28. My daughter is 28. And she's a doctor... (here it comes, inevitable as ever) and she's single. Isn't she attractive? And she's a doctor. She could take care of you." And you know what? In my haze I remember the daughter being a good-looking girl. I'm not sure how many vodka & sodas I'd downed at the point, but she was cute. I don't quite remember what I said next (booze), but I endeared myself to this woman rather quickly and in no time she was leaning on my shoulder and laughing while skimming her hands through my hair... for a bit. Awkward? Maybe. Her daughter sees us. Okay, it's awkward. But I'm not breaking character. I'm still buzzed, adorable me. "She's single and she's an optometrist which is an eye doctor. And she's 28," Auntie Georgia carries on, now pointing at her daughter from across the room. Poor girl has to be mortified by her mom. In fact, she is going out of her way not to make eye contact. And that's fine. Seems the classy thing for me to do would be to not call attention to it. I don't and not a moment later I'm whisked away to another conversation by some people I had just met wanting me to meet their friends. "You have a lovely daughter," I say as I'm separated from Auntie Georgia. "But unfortunately she's on the other side of the country. She's an optometrist, though, and attractive and a snappy dancer. Plus you say she loves to cook. I know she'll land some incredible guy." Auntie wanted that guy to be me, but she was flattered all the same by the compliments for her daughter and ran her fingers through my hair one more time.
Now I'm off talking to a group of girls about 6-8 years older than me. They're all married. Some of their hubbies drop in and I'm a hit with them, too. I'm cursing those guys for having married these girls and the lonely sideline player is causing a ruckus in the back of my head, but it's all good. I'm getting hugs from people I just met as they leave and more than one, "Where's your girlfriend?" or "I should fix you up with my sister in L.A." It's a little flattering. As much I've just realized this very second as I'm typing this that I might sound like a giant douche writing about this, those cheers, I've come to realize, are empowering. Things this week felt a little less down and brown. One of the groomsmen I had met a couple weeks earlier at the bachelor party in Vegas. He's married to a beautiful, awesome wife (one of my good buddies that night while he was busy with the wedding party for much of the evening), wildly successful business man, very intelligent, sees all the angles and has the stories to back them up. You might say he's one of my favorite people I've ever met. Someone whose example I should follow. Things are amazing for this guy and he got me to realizing without saying it that I've got all the tools to be everyone's dream already. I just need to realize how well I use them.
So yeah, Mayday this weekend, LA Kings are in first place, Lakers' season is underway, certain people in the office (no, not me) are out the door for good in a week's time, prospects are out there both socially and professionally -- networking is at a high. Three times a week at the gym.
Alright. Let's roll.
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