Wayback Machine. Destination: New Orleans (Pt. 1)

New Orleans: March 15 - 19

Took a trip with the Driz down to New Orleans for to watch the first and second rounds of the NCAA tournament, men's b-ball variety, of course. Had this trip planned months in advance and was looking forward to it. Naturally, I didn't expect to recreate the joyous experience that was the 2005 Basketball tournament in Nashville. Instead, considering it was a) New Orleans b) St. Patrick's Day weekend and c) spring break, I was expecting a perfect storm of debauchery that would test the very limits of decency and dignity. Mission accomplished?

Well, no. But it was still one helluva good time.

The Driz and I touched down in NO within an hour of each other, so we were able to cab to our hotel together. Actually...I need to backtrack just a bit.

About ten days prior to my flight, I got teh sickness. An insanely sore throat, congestion, and best of all, an increasingly painful earache. I managed to get a doc appointment for to get a prescription what will make me feel better. It was nothing too serious, obviously, but the earache concerned me, because I didn't want anything to rupture while flying. Also, while alcohol and the antibiotic I was given weren't dangerous to mix, I knew alcohol would dull the effect. By the time I was to fly down, I would have had four days worth of pills to take. We were landing on Thursday, so I decided that I'd make it through half the remaining pills alcohol-free, then introduce alcohol into my system on Saturday, because what decent person celebrates St. Patrick's Day--in New Orleans, no less--without booze, right?

You know where this is going. Of course it didn't last! Within two hours of the plane landing, I had a bigass Hurricane in my hand. Oh well.

We made our way around Bourbon Street, just getting our bearings, before deciding on a bar that had a nice setup, with a dancefloor and a couple of bars up front and a large open-air drinking area with two bars in the back. It's early, so happy hour specials are just beginning. This particular one was a 3-for-the-price-of-one setup on bottles of the cheap stuff. The Driz is going up to fetch beer, and because it's Bud Light he's bringing back, I let him have 2 of the 3. Well, many hours later, he crosses that threshhold where, as I put it to him then, the booze goes from being a bargain to being a poison.

Drizzle: I need to get out of here.
Me: Where to?
Drizzle: I'm following your lead.
Me: Okay.

So we step out onto Bourbon and we start the search for a cab. As we're walking, my hazy head hears "C'mon in guys, no cover."

Me: Let's check this out. No cover.
Drizzle: *incoherent*

That's right. I dragged my buddy into a dead-on-a-Thursday-night titty bar, where there's no cover, but a minimum beer purchase, which I quickly fulfilled. The Driz may have taken a sip or two (what, you think I'm going to drink both beers myself?) between moments of clarity where he realizes where he is and then curses my name. Me, I'm just nursing mine, watching the unenthusiastic performances. Finally, I do the right thing and use "my buddy needs to get back to the hotel room, stat" excuse to turn down a lap dance, and we leave. We get to the hotel, I call Erica, and the Driz uses the bathroom in that special way someone who has been drinking cheap beer for way too long only can.

And that's Thursday.

Friday, we got up early enough to get eat the surprisingly edible complimentary breakfast the hotel offered before walking down to the arena to catch day one of the basketball games. It was weird. Not that we saw much of the city, but all the parts we did catch, save the French Quarter, were very quiet. There wasn't really anybody on the streets. Very few cars on the road, even. And this was at all times of the day, not just the morning hours. Yet, it's not like it looked abandoned. Sure, there are still signs of the disaster, but for the most part, the areas through which we walked looked lived in.

Anyway, the walk to the arena was a nice one, made notable by the fact that we came up with a brand new nickname for Carl, one that cracked us up way more than it probably should have. Got to the arena, where we had to pick up the tickets. Moment of truth time, as we were nervous about the mere existence of the tickets. See, The Drizzle tried unsuccessfully three times (?) to have those things mailed to him well before we got there, and with no success. Eventually, he made the arrangements to have them picked up onsite. Naturally, because of the runaround given with the mailing of tickets, we were understandably nervous that they would not be available. Thankfully, the tickets were there and basketball was to be had.

The first round of the NCAA tournament is always the most fun, especially from a live perspective. A lot of that, of course, has to do with there just being more games. Beyond that, though, there is the enormous amounts of energy brough by the fans in the arena, which are mostly students and alumni and fans of the participating schools, that makes for a great live experience. This year, we didn't have a Luke Schenscher to mock, so we spread the ire around, though the eventual champion Florida Gators received more than the rest. As a matter of fact, the best moment of that day was when Florida foward Al "The Traveller" Horford, a big guy by any measure, tried to back down Jackson State's much, much bigger Stanley Turner. Most guys would have been knocked back by Horford's post move, but Horford just bounced off him. It was fantastic, especially because he attempted to back him down twice, and couldn't budge him either time. (At the time this text was composed--months ago--Al Horford was not yet an Atlanta Hawk; now that he is, I will not clown him. Kings of the pre-season, baby!)

We hightailed it before the game ended, as Florida built up a rather large lead. We walked back to the hotel for a quick change of clothes, and then it was back to Bourbon Street. Fortunately, there wasn't a repeat of the previous night's drunkenness or poor decision-making, though it was close. When we started walking back to the hotel (some time after 4am), I got the munchies, and ducked into this place that seemed like a White Castle/Checkers hybrid. We're in there, and I look at the menu, and turn to the Driz and say "This is a mistake, isn't it?" After a quick nod of the affirmative, we were outta there, finally finding a diner that served the most amazing breakfast sammiches ever. (So good, in fact, that we actually went there for dinner the next night).

(Part 2 to follow...)

Happy New Year. It's Great To Be Back.

So, I basically quit blogging in 2007. It was a combination of things, and I don't need to get into it here, at least not in boring detail. But, I'm going to actually try to resume posting on a semi-regular basis in 2008. Not a resolution or anything, I just feel like doing it again.

The highlights of 2007--things I would have blogged about had I not given into the lazy--in chronological order:

• Went to New Orleans with the Drizzle in March for the opening round of the NCAA tournament. It was a blast, and will actually get its own separate post, since I actually have it mostly written out.

• Saw Acid Mothers Temple and Mammatus with Carl back in April at the Rock and Roll Hotel. Turned out to be a really good show. Carl, unfortunately, missed the second half of the AMT set, which was the superior part; completely mind melting.

• Erica moved in with me in June, and then a string of very unfortunate events happened in short order within the first couple of weeks her moving in: her aunt passed away, she got a nice gash in her head at work that required a few stitches (thanks to the Driz for helping out that day), and then her mother injured herself. It really felt like a sign that maybe this wasn't supposed to happen. Fortunately, I leave that kind of stuff to those more superstitious than I...

• In July, I asked Erica to marry me. She said yes. Guess she doesn't heed those warnings, either, much to my infinite delight.

• Between the moving in together and the engagement, I had a very nice visit from my mother, my aunt, and my sister. E and I took them around town and had a great time. My family, incidentally, love E, so that's a nice bonus.

• September marked the second annual road trip to Wilmington with the Drizzle. It was just as fun as last year, better even. Thank the maker for Digby O'Hollywood.

• A week after Wilmington was the 10th Anniversary of Los O's, which was a fun gathering. The chocolate soda was a bad idea, but the rest was fantastic. Seriously, it was a great time, and I hope in 10 years, E and I can have something similar. Lots of love there.

• October saw more family come to town to be tourists, as E's mother, cousin and his wife and sister-in-law came down for a weekend. That one was even more walky and touristy, but also good fun. I think E's family is fond of me, too, which is another nice bonus.

• November and December brought trips to North Carolina to see my for Thanksgiving and Christmas, respectively/obviously. Unfortunately, because E had to work the day after both, she could not make the trip with me. Thankfully, her mother came down and spent both with her. Next year, the families will have to come to us, as I don't plan on spending the family holidays apart from E again.

• In December, E and I (and Maggie and January and Los O's) went to see the One Man Star Wars at the Woolly Mammoth theater, which we enjoyed, even though I was slightly disappointed by the lack of Greedo. But, hey, minor quibble.

• Oh, I also got promoted in December. That's...something.
  

And now we're in 2008, which is just a week old and has already seen a couple of blogworthy items, as I helped the Drizzle move into his beautiful new spot on Saturday, while I spent half of the next day in the ER, where Erica had been taken from work (again). Fortunately, no stitches or anything else of that nature were necessary. She's going to be fine, and I'm staying home with her today to make sure she's taken care of.

So...there it is. I hope everybody else had a happy and eventful 2007 and will have an even better 2008. With a little luck, I'll keep yins abreast of anything noteworthy via the wonder of Blogger.

Teaser

Can you help The Drizzle find the strip club? I could.

More behind that statement and much, much, much...much more.

Coming soon.

I'm on your internetz, writing in your blogs.

Just checking in. Nothing of substance. This entry is worthwhile only (and just barely) for the insanity that is this:

Pimp That Snack!

Very tired. Reading and working and listening to music and slowly creating 3-D objects and making them move. That's it. More details on each, in varying degrees, whenever I get the energy to do so.

Going down to NC later this week. Time to celebrate April birthdays at one fell swoop.

Gun Shy?

As you probably know, last year's host of the White House Correspondents Association dinner was one Stephen Colbert. The performance was a bit on the scathing side. Well, wanting to steer clear of that hornet's nest, the WHCA has booked someone a little less risque. That's right, people. Get ready for the comedic stylings of Rich Little!

I admit, I've had a chuckle or two with Mr. Little in the past. (I have a "chuckle with Mr. Little" every night before I fall asleep. *badumbum*) And I'm sure the older members of the audience will be entertained by Ed Sullivan and Johnny Carson impressions. But this decision just makes Yosemite Pres look like he's a humorless pud. And we know the First family can bring the funny, right?

And there's your old news update for the night.

"Knock, knock!" "Welcome home, baby."

So, let's see. I've been sick. I went to New Orleans (mit The Drizzle) for some hot, NCAA Basketball action. I've lived through another defection/promotion at work, this time of someone who doesn't suck. And I've knocked off a few books over the last couple of weeks, including one written by Major Bludd, as well as listened to a shoe box worth of music.

And I'm not going to talk about any of that here. Not tonight, anyway. Soon, though. F'real.

In the meantime, some goofy-lookin' dude with questionable dance skills finds a novel new use for the Wiimote. I'm not sure of the usefulness of this hack, but it is kinda cool.

Historical Significance

It seems a five person committee has compiled canonical list of the Ten Greatest Video Games of all time. Honestly, my historical knowledge and experience is rather limited, so I cannot quibble with the list itself. I do find it a bit funny that a committee can just form and say, "this is it, these are the most important." Is that how all canonical lists get started? I always thought it was one of those "consensus among historians over a period of time" type of deals. Didn't think it was a "let's lock ourselves in a room and come up with five, no ten! titles that we think have helped make the industry what it is today" deal.

Regardless, I now want to play Super Mario Bros. 3. So they've accomplished that much.

Donuts, I Got Donuts

I don't think they're that good.

Get Ready, Nerds

Countdown to a video game...trailer.

Sure, it's for the first game in the revered/reviled Grand Theft Auto series made for the new generation of game consoles, but a countdown to a trailer is still silly, especially since anticipation is probably not as high for a new GTA due to the two recent prequels (Liberty City Stories and Vice City Stories). Not to mention...it's a trailer. Who the hell counts down to a trailer?

Eh, who am I kidding. I'm just as curious as the next GTA fan.

Oh, Happy Day

...and to top it all off, I walked all the way home with some unfortunate scrunching and no opportunies to adjust.

***

Usually, with a day like today, I'd be using this space to wax psychotic about all the pain I'd like to inflict, in fantastic detail, on the next person who brushed me on the sidewalk. But that would mean reliving the work day, and I've already had my fill of experiencing it, not to mention writing about it, so we just go to the big finish.

On the plus side, I'll be putting off unpacking for another day. Ditto my haircut, which is actually the greater tragedy.

Weirdly, you know what was perfectly listening for my uncomfortable walk home? Ministry. In Case You Didn't Feel Like Showing Up to be specific. "So What?" to be even more specific. Ministry is a live concert I think everybody should experience. Or it used to be. Honestly, I don't know what they are like these days.

Now I'm listening to "London Bridge." I think I'm pretty close to being unwound.

And finally, an endorsement: pick up American Born Chinese by Gene Yang. It got a mention in Decibel's end of year wrap up of comics, and after a little more research, I decided to give it a go. It was worth it. I should probably re-read it to give it a proper review, since the first read through was focused less on the art and more on the narrative, which was told with subtlety (yes, even in the uncomfortably hilarious shadow of living stereotype, Cousin Chin-Kee), humor, and affection.

Hopefully, there will be more on this, other recent text adventures (including Fermat and two-thirds of Michael Marshall's Straw Men trilogy), the PA-trip, and music, though that will probably be over on Musica Generica. I might even talk about my total divalicious shopping spree. Or not.

God of War II

I got a brief, playable demo this past weekend, and it is fantastic. The gameplay has not changed much, but there was not really a reason to make changes, as the gameplay was pretty much flawless in the original. This is really the last major game on this generation of systems (that I know of) and should not be missed.

More (much more?) about this past weekend soon.

Who Knew?

I never thought that I'd ever threaten my girlfriend's mother with a nice "smash" on the chestal region--even in jest while talking trash during a game--but here we are.

Good times...

Shove More Bourbon Down His Mouth Hole

Guh.

The last two weeks have been kinda ass, to put it politely. As if the work wasn't bad enough, now I can't checks my home email or reads any blogs, because it's all been blocked! How dare they create an environment where I'll get more work done. But, the craziness--as far as the workload goes, anyway--ends tomorrow. The return of a co-worker means he gets his work back, and hopefully signals the loss of one seriously inept temp. Plus, I'm off to PA early in the day, not coming back until Sunday. Just in time.

But, not to leave you empty-handed, regardez: go download something a leaked track from the (still) upcoming GNR album, Chinese Democracy. Go on, do it. Don't be a pussy.

Early!

Yes! Home before 9. That's a start.

Model UN is in the house, so the hotel is crawling with high school kids. Damn them. Laying about like they own the place. I shakes my fist at you! And by fist I mean...

It's been an exhausting week, and I think the only possible cure is metal. Priestess, Converge, and the mighty Mastodon at the 9:30 this Saturday. Carl, I may need to borrow your Pig Destroyer t-shirt.

Bleh

You know what sucks about working until nine? Getting home late and then eating dinner and then being up at 1:30 in the morning digesting, wondering why I'm not allowed to punish the wicked with impunity. Savages.

Word of advice to anyone who is going to purchase a computer over the internets. PAY ATTENTION TO THE DIMENSIONS. I got this tower and it's a feckin' beast. Feels like overkill, but I likes it.

Anyway...I'm going to see if I can get in the mood to sleep. In the meantime, kitten therapy.

This day sucked. And now there's a dog show on my TV.

Well, let's see, I blitzed through a near 10 hour day without a break--and that's not an exaggeration--having to deal with a temp who is too cautious to do anything on her own, setting our work back significantly. Yet, she's too timid to even be snarky with. She's like Hooks from the Police Academy movies. Eventually, things came to a head and I had to take over and get us caught up to a manageable point. More importantly, I got caught up enough so that I could finish my own work.

This is why I'm not team-oriented. I don't have the patience to work with a bunch of Grossmans every day. If not for the people who don't suck (invariably, the people upon whom I rely the least in terms of my own work), that place would be intolerable.

And my boss is off this week! I'm supposed to be enjoying myself! Dammit.

In more positive news, had an enjoyable weekend, including dinner with The Drizzle and Los O's on Friday evening, and drinks with The Drizzle and JP on Saturday. Sunday was lazy. So, so lazy.

Lastly, some consumer advice: you so called rock fans are raging posers if you don't have this already. I've got the original version of Kingdom Come and it's boss.* Get some.


*That's for CLJO. I'm bringing it back!

Free Ozzy!

See Ozzfest 2007 for free. Wow. Between this and Van Halen, big name tours are already looking good for this summer. I wonder how long the free tour will last, and if it will catch on.

There's No Such Thing As Clowns

The last two weeks have been pretty swell, all told. (Little illnesses aside.) Two weeks ago, Erica came into town for a few days, which is always fun. We wound up bowling with co-workers on Friday night. I didn’t bowl this time, after I humiliated myself the last time. Erica did, and she repped the family quite well. MC and JS (my favoritest co-worker and her lady) bowled out of their minds, so my vicarious bowling needs were well met. Plus, another co-worker did a split after one of her bowling taunts. Easy highlight of the night.

The rest of that weekend was spent shopping, sleeping (boy, lots of sleep), keeping warm, and talking trash over games of Mario Party. I took that Monday off so I could spend more time with her before she had to catch the late afternoon train back home. With any luck, I won’t have to be writing phrases like “train back home” for much longer. Not that anything is imminent; just saying.

This past weekend was another road trip with the Drizzle to check out some land in Northern Alabama (aka Pennsylvania). This time, the land was in Gettysburg, and was actually a nice piece of property, even if you can’t set up a canoe business. After a thorough examination of the land—well, as thorough as you can be without leaving the car—we hit the Gettysburg Appalachian Brewing Company for a beer and a couple of hours of shooting pool and chit-chat. For the record, I lost the best of five series, 3-2, because the Drizzle is much more adept at the “let the other guy scratch on the eight ball” strategy than I. We went from there to the Gettysburg G-Man, after discovering that Hoss’s was too crowded for dinner. There we ate and drank a bit more, while working the phones trying to get local folks to join us. Sadly, there were no takers. Lazy savages. Unfortunately, our evening was cut short (due to the aforementioned illness) and we made our way back to D.C. after settling up here.

Sunday, of course, was the Super Bowl.

As gleeful as I was with the outcome, it has been tempered somewhat by something approximating pity for the Bears. Sure seemed like 52 men showed up to play that game. Unfortunately, the very key 53rd man turned into the pumpkin most people knew he was. I think Neil O’Donnell owes Turnoversaurus Rex a nice dinner, since he’s no longer the biggest goat in Super Bowl history. (You know, Troy Smith would look pretty good in a Bears uniform.)

But hey, at least they got there. There are thirty other teams who cannot say that. And many of them (including my beloved Dolphins) haven’t even sniffed the playoffs for years now. So the Bears got that going for them, which is nice.

And now, a nation turns its eyes to college basketball and the coming March Madness. Feel it! The Drizzle and I will be making the trip for the opening round games again. This year’s destination: New Orleans!

Get Out Of My Way!

So, DNC is in the hizzy. Already, one candidate has lost a potential vote. (I won’t say her name, though. Ha!) Why? Because her @#$%# supporters don’t seem to understand the term “excuse me.” As in, “Excuse me, asshat. I’m trying to get to my office, and you guys do not seem to understand that clotting the hallway is not only a terrible breach of etiquette, but also a fire hazard. I don’t care who is in that room, it gives you no right to be a complete imbecile. Now, please, excuse me, before I etch my grievance into your #@$%@# forehead.”

Of course, I say that all with a smile. Hospitality, don’tcha know.

(On a side note, I am tempted to test another candidate's sense of humor by mentioning how clean and articulate he is, should I be lucky enough to meet him, as one of my co-workers already has.)

Overload

Happy New Year.

2007. More books, more music, more movies, more games, more laughs, more nonsense, more steps, more booze, more reflection, more changes than you can possibly comprehend with 100% of your brain.

New computer to feature more power, more capacity, more speed, more applications, more opportunities, more access.

More more more more more more.

It's enough to make a body batshit insane with anticipation and possibility, to overload to the point of complete synaptic failure.

Or, to induce a cold and make you want to crawl under a blanket and sleep until the Zombie Apocalypse.

(I have the latter.)

There's so so so much to do do do. I thought the point of trying to outline it all was to make things simpler. But all it does is reveal the actual number of opportunities. Complication through simplification, or some such nonsense. It sounds good now, but that's the meds talking.

More sports, more trips, more illogical hate (I'm looking at you, Rex), more bluster, more leering, more dialogue/monologue, more perversity.

I have a compulsion to buy anything that I think might rub my brain stem in the right way. It's why I have more music, books, and games then I have time. I'd like to take a vacation to just make a substantial dent into it. But with "The Machine" finally on the way (yay!), any free time will be tied into that.

I can look at it this way: once I reach my next goal, I should have time to breatherelaxbeleisurely.

More hearing, more seeing, more living.

More love.

More acceptance, more forgiveness.

More ideas. More motivation. More satisfaction guaranteed.