Archive | December, 2013

Operation: Vodka Soda Lime

29 Dec
VSL

Yes, that is my hand. And yes, I’m missing a lime.

Happy (almost) 2014!  I think it’s going to be a great year.

At Christmas dinner, my family went around the table, and eveyone said (in three words) what they were looking forward to in the new year.  For example, Aunt Leslie said: “Jazz-er-cise” (yes, we explained that is 3 syllables, not 3 words).  I said: “meet new people” (good job! 3 words!).

But seriously, I need to make a serious effort to meet people in this town, to which I have just recently moved.  (I only have two friends, and they are nuts.)

Naturally, I’m going to go about this in the best way possible: by frequenting bars, the mecca from which all good friendships and romances spring (Aunt Leslie met Uncle Pete at a bar, okay!).

Also naturally, my plan is ambitious: I will go to a bar and order a drink every Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night in the month of January.

The genesis of this idea came from my friend Alayna, who reads a blog called Sitting in Bars with Cake.  As the name suggests, it’s about this 26-year-old girl who takes cakes to bars in an effort to meet guys (or, as she puts it, “lure boys with sugar”).  Not a joke.  This year alone, she took 50 cakes to bars.

I’m skipping the cake.  (In part due to her low “luring” success rate, based on my truncated perusal of her blog.)

Shall we say, I’ll just be “sitting in bars with… a personality.”

For those concerned: Don’t worry; my doctor has already approved this.  (Not.  My checkup is not until January 27, but I’ll be sure to get his thoughts on it at that point.)

But seriously, don’t worry.  February will be a month of detox involving meeting new people at yoga class and the juice bar.

Briefly, here are the rules:

  • I will attempt to take one picture per night (for purposes of documentation).
  • I will PROMPTLY (yes, promptly, Lucie!) post brief synopses of all the interesting people and new friends I meet.
  • This operation will commence on New Year’s Eve, which is on Tuesday.  Therefore, for the first week, I will be swapping Tuesday night for Wednesday night.
  • I get to bail on one day; therefore, there will be a total of 15 drinking days in this operation.

Wish me luck!

This was NYE 2011 (with fav members of the fam! + Lisa). I’m reusing this dress this year!!

Pompeii

9 Dec

“It was all unknown to me then, as I sat on that white bench on the day I finished my hike. Everything except the fact that I didn’t have to know. That it was enough to trust that what I’d done was true. To understand its meaning without yet being able to say precisely what it was . . . . To believe that I didn’t need to reach with my bare hands anymore. To know that seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough. That it was everything. It was my life — like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me. How wild it was, to let it be.” – Cheryl StrayedDSC02087pp

Do you know what has surprised me the most about life?

You grow up and you think about building a life — deliberately, brick by brick. You go at it. Stacking them just so, building something that is strong and straight. You know, a solid foundation. Something that is disciplined and noble. That you can be proud of. That is not tarnished by oozing mortar or fireplace soot.

And then you step back and you look at your brick wall.

And it looks like the fucking Pompeii ruins.

Has anyone else had that experience. The soup-sandwich-clusterfuck-of-a-life experience?

And then there are moments when the sun hits your shitty-brick-wall-ruins just right, when wind blows across its rough edges just so. When the magic of the place courses through you. When the miracle of the fact that something you’ve built still stands — something! — strikes you. The beautiful mess of it all. The speckled dust of goodness in it.

That’s the thing I didn’t expect in life. How messy it all is. That messy is okay. That messy can dazzle, in its own crazy way.

Oh, my twenties. What a decade.

DSC02083p

The Real World: Keeping It Crazy

1 Dec
You may recognize Mohammad.

You may recognize Mohammad on this year’s Christmas card.

In the words of John Mayer…

Welcome to the real world,” they said to me
Condescendingly
Take a seat
Take your life
Plot it out in black and white
 

I now live in an apartment.  I drive a car.  I don’t carry toilet paper in my pocket.  I drink “chocolate glazed donut” flavored coffee.  No, I haven’t been on any jungle walks lately.

Yes, crazy stuff still happens to me.

It is now called my job.

ATF

I am a good shot. At the three foot range.

For instance, [above] was my first day at work.  As you may recall, I left the Appalachian Trail because my dream job landed in my lap.  I’ve been at work for several months now and… I love it.  I literally wake up stoked to go to work.

I’m a prosecutor in a very dangerous city on the east coast (that has recently been likened to a “war zone” by the local paper, readers of which are counting down the “shooting days” left in the year).  

I prosecute violent crime… i.e., guns, drugs, etc. and also an individual who inspired last month’s Halloween costume:

Yes, that individual is a bank robber.

Yes, that individual is a bank robber.

I haven’t been blogging lately, in part because I’ve been trying to figure out (1) how to prosecute violent criminals and (2) how not to get shot in the process.

But also because I’ve been lazy and because I feel weird writing about my real life… i.e., the lady at Trader Joe’s who told me to “rot in hell” (because of my bad parking job… yes, it was pretty bad) and the night I ended up at the cigar lounge smoking my first, second, and third cigars ever (which I later learned were called “Acid Blondies”… yes, when I went to order one, I was confused and asked for a “blondie on acid”).

I will try to do better, folks.  In life and in more regularly posting to this blog.

As for Bojangles, he is at home and looking for a full-time job, though in the interim he’s had the opportunity to return to his first love: cutting down trees.

Bojangles 1

Yes, cutting down trees is as dangerous as it appears in this picture.

Yes, I was there and cutting down trees is as dangerous as it appears in this picture.