Leftover Chinese Goes Back to the Past for a Night

My twenty-ninth birthday came and went last week. I wasn't able to celebrate the usual birthday tradition of getting everybody I hang out with to show up in the same place for a few drinks. Missing that kind of sucked. I had a High School reunion to attend. I'm glad I went to hear about the adult lives they lead. Everybody who showed up turned out fine.

The experience was nothing short of awkward until everybody had their two drinks. Spouses and significant others tried their best but you could tell they were bored and felt excluded. The affair became similar to the concept behind speed dating or networking events: Speak to as many people as you can but start with small talk first; then a quick overview of where you're at in life; following that would be a mutual non-verbal signal about whether the conversation should continue. Once in a while you'd check their name tag to make sure you were getting their name correct. By the end of the night, everybody gravitated back to their former groups. We stood around as a crowd in a bar giving off the impression we were all there together but in reality, it was lunch hour all over again.

. . [~] . 0 (Grumble) Grumbles .

Leftover Chinese Presents the News

The daily comics blog is exhausting my posting quota so I'm not willing to share the hilarious anecdotes as often as I used to. Come to think of it, not much of novel value has happened in the past few months where I just slap my forehead and think: 'geez, how did I get myself into this situation?' Regardless, an update is very overdue...let's get it on. Happy Thanksgiving.

*News*

A studio session was recently completed with one of the music projects. As expected the process was long, stressful, and hopefully rewarding. It is definitely interesting to watch up-close all the hard work that goes into producing less than an hour's material on a CD (or mp3 player for the yung'ns out there). Listeners get to sit on their cozy couches and read magazines or stare off into space as they listen while those who take part in production get obsessed over details like the size of the room, dynamics of the sound, and whether or not anybody will notice the sour note that continues to haunt the performer.

*Weather*

Sixty? Thirty? Snow? Thunderstorms? It's the new fall, folks. I stepped to the bus stop the other day only to realize that the newspaper (analog internet) generously predicted a high of sixty degrees. It must be daily ritual in the midwest to head back inside for a change of coat or umbrella depending on the weather that particular hour. Currently I sit in the folks house with a layer of snow on the ground. As nice as the snow looks, I'm still waiting to throw that one last cook-out of the season.

*Sports*

It was much to my shock and dismay that upon joining the 'Y' I'm pushing two dimes on the scale. After three weeks of methodically picking things up and putting them back down plus a steady diet of simulating running on contraptions straight out of Da Vinci's notebook, I'm even closer to the 200 Mark. Ha! Turns out that being active to justify a big diet only works when your metabolism isn't grinding to a halt. Still, I'll keep at it; seems like a better stress reliever than a glass of whiskey.

*Traffic*

Not sure how this applies to one's life and a web log post but I'll just say that the season of busy looks to continue through x-mas. Would I have it any other way? Nope.

Enjoy your holidays, folks.

. . [~] . 0 (Grumble) Grumbles .

Falling Back with Leftover Chinese



I decided to go back to the gym as a way to get scheduled fitness activities back in my routine. Rather than opt for one of the flashy gyms, I went with the tried and true smellathon at the local Y. Over eight years has passed since my last Y membership but I manged to replicate membership photos. This time around, I lost the hair, gained some weight and kept that stupid smirk/head tilt. Nothing else about the Y experience changed a bit.

. . [~] . 3 (Grumble) Grumbles .

Leftover Chinese Rode the Hungover Train

It's been about five years since I went out on a weeknight and gone drinking (like heavy) with people I don't work with. I remember having to put my head down on my desk a few times just to calm my stomach down. I remember vowing never to do that again. Over time I forgot what that was like until this morning when two guys boarded a Loop-bound train smelling like they had crawled out of a bottle. Jesus Christ, did they stay out until four and get four hours of sleep? Was there a huge Futbol match going on in England today? As they crammed about three pieces of gum in their mouths each, they smiled at people around them as if they were getting away with something big. I wanted to speak up and tell them that they weren't fooling anybody but themselves. The booze train fools nobody.

. . [~] . 0 (Grumble) Grumbles .