I've got a luv-uh-lee bunch of co-cuh-nuts....

Music of the moment: Breaking the Habit - Linkin Park

[...]

It's the "going home" effect. Houston takes all that work and productivity you had planned, and takes a giant shit on it. I think it's because we're so far from campus, and we don't exactly have a high school to go back to, so we feel like it's a vacation. Honestly, who can think about work in that mindset?

Yay, time-killing!! Having friends over gets you a multiplier bonus! Heh.

I'm looking at my little list of things I was hoping to do while I'm under house arrest by the parentals. Only a few lines are crossed off, one being a mandatory court order (it's too boring to go into detail about). To be fair, three involve reading books. The Dip is at 75%, and New Ideas from Dead CEO's is at 60%. I picked up Michael Phelps' book No Limits yesterday, and that's next after these two.

On the bright side, I've actually gained three pounds since whipping my rusty ass into shape, so I'm up to 136 now. I've kept up my diet, about 3000 calories a day, although I need to push past it back into 3500 if I really want to get anywhere. At least I don't have to worry about getting fat.

The rest is in shambles so far. Tonight is another repeat of my nights in Houston. Random reading and surfing. stretching until 4 in the morning, followed by a late afternoon rise. I don't think I've gotten out of bed and seen "AM" on my alarm clock once this entire week. Boy, it's great...

Some random thoughts before I head off:
-Watching the NFL games today, you would've thought the Lions were fighting for a playoff spot, and the Cowboys were 0-16. I kept watching the Cowboys wondering not if, but when they were going to turn the ball over.
-Damn. I need a new water bottle.
-Cocaine may be one hell of a drug, but ZMA is one hell of a supplement.
-Happy birthday to my stepdad. Tonight (Sunday night) we went to Outback to celebrate. Mmmm, cheap steak. I bought him Bill O'Reilly's book, A Bold Fresh Piece of Humanity, since he's a talk radio junkie.
-It's official: 2008 hates the Longhorns. Add the New York Times to the long list of ways Texas has been screwed this year. Or, at the least, Thayer Evans, who is secretly an OU beat reporter in journalist's clothing.
-After witnessing excellent ball movement, and Ron-Ron manning up and making it rain 28 points on the Jazz, I saw T-Slack as expendable for the first time since ever. That's hard for me to say, considering both jerseys I own are his, but you know you need to get your cajones together when people like Jon Feigen and Bill Worrell are starting to call you out.

Only a couple more days until I'm back in Austin.

Epiphany

I'm reading a book called The Dip, authored by Seth Godin. It was recommended to me by my good friend, and I recommend it to anyone who still reads this (Who am I kidding, I'm probably talking to just the one 47 year-old balding guy, still single and living out of his parents' basement in Saskatchewan. Hah!)

The Dip is only 80 pages long, and reads like a blog post, but inspires like Chicken Soup for the Soul books (not that I read those either). If you're feeling depressed or frustrated about anything (like your O-Chem grade, perhaps!), I especially suggest at least skimming through it before you do something crazy. Like rolling a pair of dice to decide how many times you'll go out this semester, in the hopes that it will raise your GPA. The book gives you a fantastic new perspective on life, no matter where you are on it.

In any case, after reading The Dip. I'd like to leave this quote I've come up with. I know, I'm so proud. I'll make it famous someday.

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, but if you quit at five hundred and go back home, then you've just spent a thousand miles of your life going nowhere."

Going Against the Grain

Whew! What a long night. I've been busy doing all sorts of things. And now that the laundry is taken care of for now, I finally have time to update this thing.

It's starting to look like my decision to stay in Austin is turning out for the better! I had a bit of a slow start, but I definitely feel as if I'm being productive despite having no distractions since everyone's out of town. It's kind of funny, seeing people's Facebook statuses bitching about feeling lazy and unproductive in Houston....

Trying to get stuff done in this atmosphere is actually kind of like practice from this past semester. Hoping to be productive after dropping all my extracurriculars and shying from human contact just resulted in an epic fail for my GPA. The major takeaway lesson from fall semester is that I have to be careful what I isolate myself from, as well as how I expose myself to distractions. It's like I need both to function, but they have to be carefully controlled. Study smarter, party harder, am I right?

Bah! I bore myself. Back to the matter at hand: what did I do this week?

I've actually been getting back into the gym! I've forgotten that feeling of pleasure I get from seeing people's shocked faces when I do dumbbell shoulder presses. (There's no way a little guy like that should be lifting that much!) Of course, I haven't always been going to Gregory at 7:30 AM like I planned to, but I'm getting more consistent. Whatever.

Oh, and dear God, I've forgotten how disgusting casein protein is to swallow. It feels like you're drinking your own vomit. That stuff is so thick, it doesn't completely dissolve instantly in water like whey does; instead, it teases you and partially dissolves, leaving a mixture of super-diluted casein-water and globs of dry, undissolved casein. So, when you knock it back down your throat, it's right at about the same consistency as puke. Delish.

...In other news, I visited a bunch of restaurants downtown, again, and came away with more bad news, and some good news. First, the bad news, since I'm such an optimist!

In addition to the recession's impact on "hire-ability" of new waiters, most restaurants (read: nearly all) aren't hiring now since everyone's getting into the big event of the busy season, the Christmas-New Year's week. Nobody's looking to train a new hire in the middle of the most chaotic part of a biz that's already organized chaos. It's like a wife who holds back from her husband because she's mad at him, and then kicks him out onto the couch, to add insult to injury. Doesn't that suck.

Now the good news. After the chaos (read: tipping spree) period is over, everything kind of settles back into itself, and all the restaurants shake off frazzled employees to announce openings for new ones, all at once. I guess that's when I'll most likely get my job, and hopefully then I'll have a better selection. But that won't happen until about "mid-January", so I'll just be patient.

I really wish I didn't have a court appearance in Houston on Tuesday. I'm really building some momentum here. At least there'll be some good Ultimate to play in Houston....

A Hoot from a Night Owl

Just finished the last of my finals Saturday night, O-Chem. Like the other finals I took during this semester of pre-med hazing, it was mostly one long train of guessing. My GPA is on life support right now. Ugh.

Anyway, as is customary during post-finals periods, my poor sleep schedule is completely reversed. I went to sleep last night at 2 AM and woke up 15 hours later, at 5 PM, feeling extremely confused. (Huh? I thought it was dark BEFORE I went to bed?) Since then, I've mostly been inspecting the post-finals aftermath of what's left of my apartment, and sending out rescue efforts to pick up the pieces.

I've decided to stay in Austin for all except 3 or 4 days out of this winter break. I finally seemed to figure myself out towards the end of the semester, and I guess I just hate having to figure out how to be a student all over again after I spend breaks figuring out how to be lazy. Plus, it's pretty common knowledge that any books you pack when you go back home just end up being extra weight to carry, hah!

Speaking of books, I need to slide down to Half-Price sometime this week and pick up that new Michael Phelps book. I'm especially looking forward to what he has to say about how he dealt with his ADD.

To wrap up this post, here's a long-overdue list of things I'm thankful for, in no particular order, followed by a list of things I wish I could have right now, again, in no particular order.

-My wonderfully fantastic, oh-so-awesome SexyBike. It grants me immunity to gas-station-type Pokemon, but leaves me wide open to super-effective attacks from local-bike-shop-type Pokemon. (http://tinyurl.com/6hgd38)
-My ridiculously-convenient-but-maddenly-inconsistent iPhone.
-My tablet laptop, which I wish I could replace with that new HP TouchSmart laptop that I don't have money for.
-My bumpin' party power tower, which, by night, goes by the name "Logitech Z-2300."
-My luxurious-yet-bedroom-cramped apartment.
-The sexiest Indian motherfucker alive who doubles as a fantastic roommate, Pawan!! (Ladies, he's single, but it won't be for long!)
-My air mattress, which survived being a temporary fix and has since grown to become the most comfortable mattress I've ever slept on, period.
-Unlimited texting! (I'm really not like that, it's just that it's a nice thing to have)
-My family, which, despite being argumentative and frustrating and nagging, has found a way to remain the only one I have, and deserving of some love.
-My JesusBall, a blessed football handed down to me by the football powers that be at UT, who smile down benevolently upon us mere mortals.
-I suppose I can also throw in my health, good looks, and seemingly-unending stream of random talents.
-Did I mention narcissism?
-SNOW IN AUSTIN.

Wish list:
-A new Balisong, of Benchmade or similar branding.
-A waiting job.
-More autographs for my JesusBall.
-Kawasaki Ninja 250R, although I will also settle for a Ninja ZX-6R. =)
-not too much else material stuff, most of what I want is personal.

I'm really looking forward to that Trail of Lights tomorrow.

The Wonder Wall

I hadn't gone to the gym in about 2 months and I was feeling pretty worthless about it, so tonight, I decided to go to the Quarters mini-gym around 7 for a quickie workout, just about half an hour including the trip. I slapped on some shorts, a workout shirt, and left on my bike. It wasn't that bad the last time I had gone out, hopefully it was the same now.

Boy, was that a bad decision. It was freakin' freezing! The weather was a triple threat today: Cold, windy, and drizzling. It felt like someone was shooting little icicle daggers into my entire body. Going 10 mph into a headwind didn't help much.

When I got there a minute later, I saw this guy who was waiting outside of Plucker's (which is right next to the gym), posted up against the wall. He looked a little out of place. He was decked out in a full suit, hair carefully gelled and everything, with his backpack still on his back. He was shifting around anxiously, keeping his head down mostly but perking it up to look left and right expectantly every few seconds. His lips were drawn into his mouth, the way you'd look if you were at a loss for words.

He was nervously rolling something in between his thumb and index finger. I looked closer. It was a rose. No wrapping or packaging, no baby's breath or greens, just one really pretty rose.

Whatever. Time to go upstairs and work out.

I kicked ass in the weight room for what felt like the first time in forever. I was surprised to find out that even after two months, I hadn't dropped that much in terms of strength. I'm totally gonna go on a lifting spree after finals.

25 minutes later, I got out of there, and when I looked to my right, I stopped for a second. Who did I see but the same rose guy, still leaning on the wall. His nice suit was now glistening with drizzled rain, and yet there he was in the same spot, waiting and looking around expectantly. The little patch of dry sidewalk around his feet stood out as the only place the rain hadn't touched, apparently since he hadn't budged at all. A few pink bite marks littered the rim of his lips. His gelled hair was starting to fall apart, and the rose he still cradled in his fingertips fluttered in the bitter wind.

Poor guy.

I walked my bike past him, and as I looked him in the eyes, I felt a kindred emotion with him. They were a mixture of worry and hope, sadness and excitement. They seemed to say that he had every reason in the world to be anywhere but here, yet he chose to be right where he was. I could only nod my head in respectful understanding as I passed. He did the same.

It's cold tonight.

Move Along, Move Along, Just to make it through...

I didn't make the cut.

I cut my teeth in the restaurant biz waiting tables at Landry's this past summer. It was a brutal place for a first waiting job, and to make things worse I knew nothing about restaurants. I was held to a much higher standard than almost any other place I could have gotten a job at. There was little room for rookie mistakes, and I made quite a few of them trying to survive in that snake pit.

We were expected to basically take care of anything that wasn't managerial or involved actually cooking the food. I put up with shitty customers, some who stiffed me where it wasn't called for, some who complained about stuff that had no standing to begin with, some who lied to my higher-ups to get some stuff knocked off the bill. I put up with some pretty downright dickheaded managers and co-workers too.

But ultimately, my experiences there solidified my foundations as a waiter, and that alone was worth it. One of the last things my GM said to me before I left was, "You won't have trouble finding work almost anywhere else, after working here." I also made some of the best friends I have today, I gained valuable advice about waiting and life in general, and I grew as a person in ways I didn't see coming. Through the fire and flames, I was addicted to waiting.

So, when I moved back to Austin, naturally I looked for jobs as quickly as I could.

I had spent almost every day of the first month of the semester looking for a spot waiting tables in a fancy-pants restaurant downtown. 4 days out of the week, I'd rush home at 2 after classes ended, throw off my clothes and slap on business pro attire, and drive downtown to hit up restaurants. Even after going to more than 30 restaurants (many of them I went to multiple times) and getting no-calls from all of them, I kept my head up. Just one place, that's all I need, I kept repeating to myself.

Eventually though, I didn't have time to juggle everything, and I had to put job-hunting on hold.

Fast forward to last week.

I was back on the prowl again, hoping that some places still had a few openings before the busy season was fully underway. I knew what I was doing wrong before that was driving away managers, and I had fixed it in my resumé. After hitting up 10 places, I finally caught a break. McCormick & Schmick's, a semi-fine dining seafood and steak place, needed a couple of waiters. I knew if I got a job there, I would never have trouble paying for tuition, renting, anything anymore. I threw everything I had at them, application, resumé, even talked to every manager I could find.

They sat me down immediately for an interview. I kicked ass, as I normally do. They seemed immensely interested in me, and wanted a second interview the next day, Friday. Things looked up for the first time in months. I couldn't believe I was moving along so quickly, after so long.

That night, I was looking on Craigslist for more places to apply at, in case M&S didn't work out. In the flurry of 'wanted' postings, I saw an ad for McCormick & Schmick's saying they needed a waiter. It was posted half an hour after I had gotten back home. I didn't think much of it at the time. I already had my first interview done, and my second interview the next day. Screw the rest.

I spent that night, and the entire next morning getting ready for my second interview. That shit had to be airtight. I wanted to walk out of that place with a job in my hands, and I made sure I would do everything to make that happen. Hours and hours of preparation went into making sure every aspect was covered.

Then the interview with the M&S general manager came. He told me I gave an excellent interview. I felt differently. Maybe this is my perfectionist side of sales technique speaking, but when I walked out I didn't feel as if I had done everything I absolutely could have done to sell myself. I was still too vague, too idealist, and not specific enough to tie my answers back to what I could offer him. To be fair, his questions were too general in themselves to allow me to get real in-depth anyway, but I knew I could have done more, and I loathed that feeling.

Richard the GM told me he'd get back to me by that evening or the next morning to let me know about his hiring decision, although he warned it might take as long as Monday. There were 4 or 5 other people who had interviewed that day, after all, and in the 24 hours since the Craigslist ad had been put up, they had received over 30 applications. Nobody had been offered a job straight up. I remained optimistic that they would hire me; there were no red flags and they had already said they were very interested. And only 6 people at most were interviewed, right?

Wrong. I didn't get a single call. I endured the weekend in agony, tortured over the "what if's" and "maybe's". I called my references and made sure they knew they might get a call. After talking to them on Sunday, they said they still hadn't been called. It seemed like hoping against hope. Nevertheless, I was patient.

Monday came and I had to know. I dressed up, went downtown, and asked to speak to Enrique, the first manager who had interviewed me. He was busy, so I had to wait a while.

At the host's station, I overheard the staff talking about some of the new hires. Some of them were straight up terrible. One apparently was lost throughout training, even into his second week, and had trouble pre-bussing his table. That's unacceptable in the restaurant business, especially at that level. It's like going into honors Multivariable Calculus at UT without knowing how to work a derivative. You just can't have that and expect to get anywhere.

I shared a story with them about one new hire I knew at Landry's who went through the same thing, and in the end it seemed like she had BSed her way through the interview. She was always lost and in the weeds, and one busy Friday night, it all caught up to her and she straight up walked out on us, with her 5 tables already in the weeds. It looked like this guy was doing the same thing. They agreed.

When Enrique finally showed up, he gave me the spill. Richard had already made his calls on Friday night and hired not two, but three people. Obviously, I wasn't one of them.

But why?

Heartbroken, I listened numbly as he said my interview was fantastic, my application was solid and I shouldn't change a thing about it. It just came down to the numbers, and although I was great, those 3 were better. "After all," he mentioned, "after we put up that Craigslist ad, we interviewed a total of 15 or 16 more people, not just you. "

Huh? What happened to 5 or 6?

"You applied at a bad time," he continued. "You were so high up in our consideration."

I shot the shit with him for a few more minutes, but I had heard enough. For the first time in my life, Craigslist had actually fucked me over royally. I couldn't believe it all came crashing down to this.

It was a long bike ride home. I kept cursing and kicking myself, and I couldn't keep my head straight. I was so mad and disappointed and insulted, all at once. I almost ran into a few cars because my thoughts were just all over the place.

I went to the only place that could give me consolation at that time: Chipotle. I ate my heart out and simmered there, letting myself come together again. An hour later, I finally left, very much more at peace, and of course, very much full.

The take-home message: I shouldn't let myself suffer because of an outcome that was largely outside of my control. I can't sweat the circumstances. I wish I could have given it my all, despite what others may have told me, but I know myself and I know what to do better next time. The puzzle pieces of life fall as they may, and sometimes they refuse to fit at one place so that others may come together later. My time will come. Now, I will get back to gearing up for finals, and after I'm done kicking ass there, I'll be back downtown, to take what's mine.

The Weirdest Party Ever

1 am on a Saturday night, now Sunday morning, and I'm trying to study for finals.

It's not going well.

The guys next door to me are throwing a loud party, and here in Quarters with the paper walls, I'm feeling the party. Sounds like they're banging on a table. Wtf? I'm cool with the guys who live there, so I kinda just want to let them have their fun. Whatever. Back to pretending to study.

2 am, and I haven't moved an inch. Fuck it, I'm going over to see what's up.

I walk in and it's like I've walked into a frat party. Empty beer cans and empty shot glasses are lying all around, and the floor is glistening wet. Loud music, and the table banging's still going. I run into my friend Alex, who's one of the guys who lives there. He's a big, built guy, but he's swaying like a boat in a storm, with a lowball glass full of rum hanging from his fingertips.

"What's up man, didn't know you drink! I thought you just studied!"

"Hell no man, not anymore!"

"Haha, I see your roommates have corrupted you well bro."

"For sure man, enjoy the party. I'm gonna step out for a second to let some people in. See ya in a bit."

Turns out the noise is called Thumper. Looks like a blast. I watch for a little bit to see how it's played, and figure what the hell, I'll come in in a few minutes. I walk over to the other side of the room to scope the place out real quick, and the next thing I know-

"COPS!!!!!"

This big, 6 foot tall drunk dude comes racing straight across the room, but slipped on some beer and went barreling right into my feet. I look down at him in confusion and some amusement. He scrambles on his hands and knees for a second, lunges for the iPod supplying the music, and pauses it.

"COPS!! EVERYONE, SHUT UP!!!"

The party is dead quiet. Nobody is moving, and some girls next to me have stopped in mid-grind with each other, their mouths open. You could have heard all the hearts in the room, beating like drums. Everyone's head is turned towards the door now.

Aaron, the only guy who lives there left at the party, tiptoes toward the door and peeps into the hole. He turned around and his eyes were wide open. He put his arms in the air, making a "keep it down" sign with his hands. Maybe if we keep it down for long enough, they'll believe we magically poofed away, I think.

The other people there seemed to agree with me, and after a few seconds they start whispering amongst each other. Aaron looks like he's in pain. He's doing the hand-waving thing again. Scattered shushes go around the room.

The longest 5 minutes of my life crawls by.

The cops knock every minute, each time getting louder and angrier-sounding. Aaron's still at the door, refusing to budge. Everyone's looking at each other with that "Aw, come on" look on their faces, occasionally casting nervous glances at the door. Some of these same people still have drinks in their hands.

Now that I think about it, I did meet some Aggies at that party.

I can't help but snicker a little bit. Great. Just my luck that I'd run into trouble with the law as soon as I ditch studying to go party. And just my luck that I'd come in right when Alex left. The sad, twisted irony. Fuck you, Karma.

Finally, the knocking subsides for a bit, and people start to ease up a little. Maybe they're gone.

Then, some more knocking.

By this time, people are like, "Just answer the door already! You're making it worse!" I couldn't blame Aaron for not wanting to. If it were me, I'd say "Fuck yall, there'll be hell to pay if I get screwed up the ass for having all this here." Nobody's going to tell him what to do though, he plays football and I bet nobody there could budge him if they tried.

Finally, he looks into the peephole and his shoulders slack. He opens the door, and everyone draws a collective breath.

It's Alex.

Apparently, the cops had finally left, and Alex had actually just seen him leave in his police car. But were there more of them, and were they going to come back?

The party slowly resumed itself, but it was on life support now. You could barely hear the music, Thumper was thumping no more, and worst of all, no dancing. A tense fear hinted in everyone's eyes. Every conversation was about the same thing. What just happened, and was it safe to stay?

I met the big guy who had careened into me, trying to turn off the music. His name was Hayden, and he had actually cut his hand on the TV stand when he slipped and fell. Everyone was giving him shit for flipping out. Poor fuck.

I chatted with some girls for a bit before I decided it was time for me to exit stage left. It was just too tense and the party vibes were dead anyway. But sure enough, Karma decided to come back for seconds, and right when I got to leave, there was knocking on the door again. Apparently the cops were back. I couldn't even leave to go over to my place next door. Gawd.

Ironically enough, history repeated itself. The knocking went away after 10 minutes, and came back soon after. Aaron opened the door, and this time Ben, the third guy who lives there, popped into the doorway. I didn't hang around for long after that.

It had been an hour since I had ditched homework, and I finally sank into my chair at home, very confused, relieved, and a little humbled. What a night.