RKMBs Forums AUGUST 2006

no, augustus, save some for later!

things are semi-less hectic now. semi. still just feels like there's so much going on. planning and parties and gymming and work issues and family settling down and freelance projects and sidebidniz and ... there's still so much to think about and keep track of. even if its all just little shit.

trying a whole new process at the gym. well, not all new, i guess. justa buncha different machines with different direct goals -- more fat loss than muscle build for the next month. and i could use it. i hate seeing "the many layers of rob kamphausen"

its horrifying.

but the news is not all bad.

i did some family drive-homes last week, laura and mike got the computer i bought'em, i was able to save a buncha files on my parents old computer, i actually paid off most all of my credit card debt, i think i have a vacation week finally secured for later this month...

i'm gettin shit done. slowly, surely, ugly, and awkwardly (notta bad domain name... ), but its gettin done all the same.

its disgusting out today. its been disgusting out all week. we're in the middle of this record-setting, 100+ degree, humid-as-all-fuck type oppression, which makes everything miserable. walking, standing, going places, staying in... whatever.

my one, ginormous AC unit is working pretty well, but... i really wish i had 30 or 50 more of them, at all times. even lil portable units that i could strap to my face and back, so's even when i walk around outside or in the office, its nice.

without all that, everything just feels all thick and heavy and disgusting. like, even my shirt weighs too much, and i just wanna punch everyone in their respective throats.

my stupid ass decided to book a gym session tonight, too. and i'll tell you right now, if the power is dimmed in the gym, just like it is at work right now, and the AC isn't blasting, i'm outta there. can't fuck around amidst this apocolyptic weather.

it is supposed to rain later on, which'll help cover the fact that i am swamp-thing sweaty.

but i really can't not go, because my big ass needs the work.

the gym wasn't so bad last night, but i'm all fucked up today cuz of it. and im hungry. and its not so hot outside, but i still found a way to sweat through my shirt on the way to work in the morning. just another chapter in the life of being repulsive.

still tryin to think of a cool name for this other company thing i'm working on. the idea for the bidniz is aweshome, and i hope to have millions upon millions of dollars because of it. but, we's goin nowhere without a perfect name / site / slogan / logo, etc.

i'm totally blanking on everything, and have started just writing jokey, dumb ideas that crack me up and waste time and serve no other purpose but to annoy.

trying to give myself a deadline of this weekend to finalize it, but admitedly, my focus has been way off lately, cuz of all the crazy shit goin on. i'm all outta whack.

david suggested yesterday that i try to add another gym day, or two, to my regime. maybe kick in some pillates or yoga or something for better core strength and mental focus.

yeah, no fucking thank you.

i'd love to have so much more free time that i could start a few more gym days. but, as it stands, just the 2-3 that i'm doing lately are kicking my ass. embarassingly so, at that. so, not only am i sore and whiney all the time, but now i can't even think or function regularly.

creativity; depleted.

friday also turned out to be a half day. by, like, a lot. we were outta work in the 3pm range. shweeet. and i didn't have to go to the gym again, cuz i already sacreficed some fat to the gym gods the previous day. that meant... many, many hours of uninterupted drinking!!

3pm, i meet alexis, and we go to hobson's. figure we'll give that a shot, since we rarely go there. and we found this great table outside, half in the sun, half not. and we sat. ...for like 10 minutes. and then i checked inside to see if there was a waitress of varying hotness, and there were none. so, fuck you, hobson's, we's goin to the more reliable green rock, where there was waitresses of varying hotness!

katie started off workin. we hadn't seen her in months, i don't think. and dawn took over shortly after. the two of them are pals and both love lex and myself. you know. of course.

...alright, fine, mostly alexis.

...

but i pay for everything, so there's gotta be love for me too.

mm. alright, so, we're drinkin. and, there's a lotta drinkin. we're talkin with the two boozechicks a lot, too. about whatever random bull shit; the fact we haven't seen katie in forever, dawn's myspace page, hoboken shtuff, all that. and lex and i just keep on keepin on with the alcohol like we're never gonna drink it again. hell, food too. why not, right?

soon enough, lex gets some texts from lq, and we grab a few more chairs to our beautiful outdoors table, so's those two chicks can join the party.

and, basically, this little gathering sets off our first real get-together-and-drink outting in weeks. with the culmination of crappy weather and convoluted plans and a million other things getting in the way, we've all pushed aside, for too long, the one, golden, unifying force that this universe has blessed upon us.

drinking.

and it was time to change that.

laquanda had some drinks. kathy had some drinks. alexis had some more drinks. my fingers got stuck to a drink (that weird ice-glue thing, like in "a christmas story") and i spilled it. that lead to a threat of no more drinks by dawn. why, dawn. why would you do this to me?!

eventually she relented, and my drinking rampage was back in bidniz. we had this great spot right outside and were just loving all of the beautiful weather and all of the people watching, as everyone else came home from work in their more-typical 5-7pm range.

its really the perfect environment. great, outside seats atta fun bar, with a good-sized group. and everyone loaded, or at least on their way. with absolutley nothing to do, notta single plan, for the next day. its very, very helpful to the "drink forever" attitude that we all share.

the jacksn'n'diets were fantastic. all 600 of them. and each lead to its own state of off-balance, which in turn lead to its own great conversation or joke or whatever. but, sadly, after 6-7 hours of consecutive bar orders, and kathy ready to head home, we felt it time to move on. and after paying the ridiculously long bill, and saying goodbye to the green rock, we stood up to leave.

...but...

only kathy had to go home. surely, laquanda, alexis and myself could part from the apartment-bound path and start drinkin somewhere else.

and, thus; buskers!

buskers time is just as lovely. granted, its not as good as a bar. the bartendresses aren't as hot. the music and scene isn't as hip. the drinks aren't as cheap or as large. oh, and we couldn't sit outside, so we had to secure an indoors table.

but the three of us were so much drunker at this point, that it made our buskers time just as lovely.

there were a few weird seton hallish run-ins in the bar. people who recognized me and that i sorta recognized back, but because i'm me, i never really know or remember anyone or anything. sad.

it was just laughing and talking and more and more drinking, built off of an evening of drinking. by midnight, we come to realization that we've been drinking for 9 hours straight, which sadly isn't close to our record, but is still a mighy pile of respectful.

but as 1 am was approaching, we felt we had done our rightful duty of alcoholic service and wanted to take a stroll on outta there. plus, lq wanted to grab some grub, and then have alexis and myself walk her to her apartment.

safety precautions, of course.

qdoba mexican food in hand, we make the trek to laquanda's and ...hang out for a bit. a lovely, lovely bit. again, safety precautions. lovely, lovely safety precautions.

after dropping her off, its back to the apartment just in time to miss all of the delivery times of the places near by, a frustrating little conclusion to an otherwise phenomenal, alcohol-returnin' day.

saturday was for the resting. ...except for the fact that i had to go the the gym in the morning, due to fatness and previous commitment. gym is at noon. i wake up at 10:45 to shower and drink my peanut butter / milk / banana shake. then add in my new powder stuff in a water drink.

...then realize that the combination of all of that, plus the left over reminents of 47 jack and diets from the nigh previous, plus waking up early to do physical labor... really wasn't the brightest of combinations.

so instead of it just being me at the gym for an hour, sweating like a monster, giving it my all, but still whining cuz everything is heavy, y'now have to factor in a whole world of bubbling stomach juices and wonderful digestive noises and sensations.

horrifying.

but, i give myself credit for disgustingly working through it, even if it did pretty much kill my desire to ever do anything, ever again, for the rest of the day and potentially my life.

all that aside, there was at least some accomplishment aspect of it.

sunday showed up all quick like, and we decided to turn that into a spur-of-the-moment barbecue, as it was the first day that scottie could visit the boken in weeks. last summer, tons of barbecues. this summer, woefully short in supply.

but scottie gave notice of his availability and i claimed the date and we rush-bought some shit just to make sure it would actually go-down.

there was no big invite email chain. there was no splurging on new alcohol containers. there wasn't even adequate time to give the festival a special name of any sort. the day just had to happen and had to happen right, for the sake of happening right -- all in honor to spw, who was turning a mighty 724. thousand. ...something.

i did need groceries, both to celebrate the enormously extended life of scottie, as well as in an effort to keep myself alive for another week. so, with that, i made a fresh direct delivery and grabbed $100 in mostly-meat food.

saussages, steaks, chicken, bbq sauce, some... sorta veggies. whatever. rolls. even chips and salsa! and it all turned out beautifully. scottie, lex, and myself, later added by text-message-happy laquanda and kathy. and the event turned into another all-day drinkathon, complete with meat that was on fire.

and that, plus friends, plus getting to sit outside on my deck during one of the most glorious weather days of the year... c'mon, thats fucking gold.

monday showed up too quickly. way too quickly. and i had a whole new day of waking up early, working, gymming, and other loads of bullshit to pile upon myself, much to my chagrin. and this time, without any of the fun and helping hands of alcohol

work was bleh. and i was dreading the gym. monday was one of those depressiony days, which i guess happens ever other month, or so. like, the day where i start to feel like i'm not making progress fast enough or whatever. they're really a drag.

i just get locked in this mindset, like, i'm putting so much into it, but not getting half of it back. every hour long work out is actually three hours, since you gotta warm up, cool down, shower, change, all that. at least three times a week, sometimes more. i'm avoiding all of that beautiful, beautiful food i want, every day, like ice cream and four steaks and french fries and my old friend beer. plus i'm dropping a good amount o'money into training and vitamins and crap.

just starts to feel like its taking a huge toll, and no adonis am i.

but, after a few moments of "wah wah, cry cry" i start to get mad at myself for bitching, and then use that to fuel my workout or drive or determination or whatever. doesn't always work, and it doesn't always directly translate into a better session, but... its somethin. gotta blast that internal rocky theme.

so, i was in the middle of my apartment the other day, just sorta goin over everything i needed to get done through out the month, when i got a text from some high school pals that wanted to meet me at a barstaurant around the corner from my place. figured, what the fuck, lets head out.

i'm halfway there, when i feel my left front tooth start to wobble. now i'm thinkin, fuckin fantastic, my tooth is loose because i haven't been to a dentist in 17 years, or whatever. its bleeding a little, i could taste that acidy ... whatever, flavor. but more than anything, i was pissed because of the level of inconvenience this would cause.

and since tongues have retarded mind's of their own, i can't stop flicking it, and testing it, despite how much looser it seems to be making my teeth.

then i notice another tooth towards the bottom is loose. so now, i'm fucking pissed. this means i have to find a dentist, have to talk to the dentist, have to go to the dentist, get everything squared away, explain to all of my friends that i'm not a homeless person and that i do normally have teeth, etc, etc.

like a nonstop annoyance ... that my tongue is still nonstop exploring ... which subsequently loosens more teeth.

then, boom, the top tooth falls the fuck out. i feel the panic and taste the blood. i immediately stop walking, throw my hand over my mouth like i'm trying to silence myself, but i'm really just trying to hold my fucking teeth in. i also sorta bight down, to further hold them in place.

both fail, and i feel 4, 5, 8, 15... every tooth just fall outta place, and swirl around like marbles. there's blood dripping down my chin, my tongue feels all these sour little toothholes, and jagged, broken teeth bottoms.

fucking sucks.

then i wake up.

...what the fuck was that about?

went to trinity with lex on tuesday for some eats and drinks. trinity has become quasi regular, particularly in the nice weather months, cuz it has lotsa tables outside, good booze, and good sammidges. plus, it has this one particularly attractive waitress that, although we never happen to sit at a table in her rotating area, i can still stare a lot.

and stare i did! every little wiggle! without fear or reprecussions of potential tooth fall out.

she came over and talked to us for a bit, i mean, honestly, how could she resist? but that was all we got. and a few hours later, and a few drinks later, we decided we'd stroll on towards home, on one of the most beautiful days i can remember.

and, alright, we stopped off at another bar, mcswiggans, on the way back to grab some additional booze (just incase our mouths forgot). but, before too long, it was apartment time once more, for some serious "the shield" watching.

continuing with the 4kids exodus of late, john gansley, of the 4kids softball team coach fame, had his farewell party last night. it was set up at rogue a nice lil bar just a few blocks from the downtown office, with a huge eating/drinking area, perfectly accommodating to a good-size party of, oh, 50+.

but 50 people did not show. after all was said and done, the party total was probably closer to 150. gansley is beloved. so beloved that the 3-4 hour bar event started off, courtesy of norman, with a few 4kids-paid-for hours of open bar -- my favorite kinda bar!!

and all of this was really done quite to the major disappointment of the bar staff. i mean, yeah, they were gonna get this amazing payday and ginormous tips and such, but... there were 2, count'em, 2 bartendresses.

some 200 drinking people were in the bar by 7:30 -- not the typical wednesday night crowd, apparently. and these bartenders were goin nuts tryin to dispese every drink and order they could, which were arriving by the dozen. they were clearly very frustrated. ...but, damnit, i was clearly very thirsty. and these empty glasses weren't going to fill themselves!

the drinks were free, but because i felt so bad, i ended up dropping like $20 some-odd bucks, just on tips, cuz i felt for'em.

after a nice lil gansley speech, and actually a cute lil gansley montage video, the drinking and mingling of up and downtown offices continued for another few hours. i did more talkin with hillary and savita, hung out with our uptown drinkin crew of tina and alyssa and jess and liz and rik, talked a lot flavia and sam and some of the ole softball team.

it was good times... but times that quickly came to a halt when alyssa and company told me to come with them to a different bar, nearby. i did a lap, said my goodbyes, went to merge with the leaving crowd outside... only to find them missing!

so, all of these fuckers left without me. i am 6 jack and cokes into the evening, so there's a brain-clouding buzz going strong. i can partially remember some of the directions, i know they said the place was on 5th or 6th, and somewhere around 26th street. i could just walk around and look for a bar! i'm smooth.

but no, i can't. i'm not smooth.

i'm crossin streets, i'm roundin corners, i'm walkin up and down every fucking block in the vicinity, and there are no goddamn bars. i start sending out the SOS text messages, hoping someone'll just frickin tell me where i'm sposda go.

eventually, jonathan meets me outside cuz, as he explains, i'd never be able to find this place. and not as a slight because i'm retarded, which is true. thats besides the point. its because this place is behind a sequence of secret entrances and walkways and velvet ropes and elevators.

just getting to the building has 2 bouncers. once inside, a third bouncer, and velvet ropes. then a security guard-type telling everyone to walk in a specific direction, on a specific side, with specific specifics.

thats when i start noticing all of the other people we're walking with, through all these batcave-like hallways, and now stepping into a sleek elevator heading towards the penthouse, some 30 floors up. its nothing but slutty, supermodelesque hot bitches, with boobs fallin out and super short skirts and all of'em holdin hands...

...i ...have discovered xanadu!

the elevator door opens on the top floor and everyone is escorted out by more security guards and velvet ropes and a whole formal procession. there are these massive, vegas-showroom-like stuffed leopards and tigers, and enormous sprawling ceilings. club music, high-hem black dress waitresses, and several hundred cool people are all there to unconsciously great two of the biggest nerds the planet earth has ever spawned.

then we go out onto the balcony.

holy crap nuts. the bar's name, i'd later learn, is 230fifth, and it is the coolest mother fucking place i have ever been to. instantly, there's an internal mix of shock, amazement, embarasment due to my clearly not belogning, and aweshome. much, much aweshome.

there are hot girls everywhere. cool people everywhere. had i seen a dozen or so mid-level famous people, like a lindsay lohen or some WB stars or whatever, i would not have been at all surprised.

our little group reunites towards the edge of the balcony, which has this spectacular view of the empire state building, all lit up and beautiful. the whole city has this amazing, opened-up panaramic look to it, from a vantage i don't ever remember seeing before. plus, with the weather being as beautiful as it was, the near full moon is blasting over the sky, making everything glow.

there are palm trees (palm trees!) all over the roof, and hot waitresses walkin around in short, tight black dresses, with enormous cleavage displays, and great big smiles cuz they know they're gonna make huge tips from all the rich folk up there.

i shoot'em a smile back, cuz i know i'm not payin for shit, and i just wanna stare, for free. suckers!

the rooftop continues to impress me, and i constantly unhide my lack of cool by gazing around the entire joint like a big doofus. this is only interupted by my staring at every hot chick walking around; which is every chick. and each one in a wonderfully slutty attire, wonderfullier and sluttier than the last.

a poker face, i do not have.

alyssa, the chick that got is in the place, leads the discussion with her one pal, who is this very cool, very nice 35+ guy named eddie. or eric. ...or something like that. i don't remember.

whatever his name was, not only was he fucking cool enough to pay for all of our drinks (a tab that i saw later equal $600+). he was just droppin bills left and right, like it was nothing. and, really, to him, it was nothing.

one of his most recent stories involved him buying CBGBs. like... you know, perhaps the worlds most famous underground punk place on the planet, and assuredly one of earth's more famous clubs. well, it was in financial trouble for the past two years and was all in the paper, in jeopardy of shutting down.

well, no more. cuz this guy fucking bought the place. like it was a sammidge. frickin awesome.

if i was ever as rich as this guy, i sure as fuck wouldn't be so nice. i mean, geebus, i'm poor as dirt, and i'm a shitbag to most people. but this guy is fucking buying buildings every morning, and here he is paying for strangers' drinks and droppin lil tips on how we could pick up the cuter waitresses.

the whole night ruled. but... as 1 am approached, the whole night had to end, with most everyone needing time to walk off their booze to be at work the next morning. so, we all head our separate ways, down the secret elevators, past the stuffed jaguars, and back to our humble homes.

now, i don't get back to my apartment til damn near close to 2 AM, but... i'm still hit up with major surprises for the evening -- like walking into my formerly-unpainted apartment and seeing it ...well... painted!

"jasper green" now fully adorns most of the lower level of my apartment, courtesy of alexis and her mother, who worked all day to make it so, while i was at work. and bars. and rooftops.

the place looks fucking fantastic. a million times better than the former "i just don't have any fucking time" paintless walls that overpowered everything before. now it actually looks like a livable place.

i can start putting my pictures back up on the wall -- only 2 years after i moved in!

actually, above and beyond that, i can finally start making the apartment more than just a place bandaided together, surrounding a big ass tv and a sweet couch. i wanna get a nicer bookshelf and maybe redo the wiring into my coat closet.

i've also, for a long time, thought about putting in some real stairs, instead of the current curly stairs. maybe take out a small second mortgage, and have the work done over the course of a few weeks. maybe even put in a second bathroom, half bath anyway, upstairs, so's i wont have to fall down stairs to pee when i'm drunk.

granted, this is all thousands of dollars and day dreamin, but... with the apartment lookin as nice as it does now thanks to "lex & mom, llc" it now seems so much more hopeful!

this past thursday was a good gym day. i mean, it wasn't spectacular, or anything, in that i lifted a brazillion pounds or met personal bests in everything. i wasn't setting records and i wasn't in 200% better shape. but i finally had others take notice.

oftentimes, while i'm prepping myself to lift something, david'll say stuff like "no worries, you got this, this is a piece of cake." stuff to sorta make me think like its no big deal, and its easy.

and, really, while i understand why he's doing it, i hate it. i'd much rather hear how fucking difficult its going to be, and what a fucking heavy set this is.

my whole life is geared around challenges. seeing them, meeting them, and beating them. i'm too short, too pale, and too ugly for most everything, and that has actually been great to me, as its developed my entire persona. all of my back bone, all my courage, all my unexplainable arrogance... its all based on the fact that someone, or some society, told me i couldn't do something.

so, when i walk up to a set that weighs more than me, i like it. i like hearing people nearby say somethin like "lookit this guy" and point in my direction. its my major, defiant "fuck you" to society.

on thursday, there was this whole group of guys lifting way more than i could, but all standing, impressed by what i was doing -- dead lifting and power squating on a bosu ball (which is like half of a bouncy ball, that you try to balance on).

each one of them tried after me, and wasn't able to balance with the weight i had, then sorta walked away in awe of mr. short pale and ugly.

there was drinking to do on friday. at one point, it was to be with another farewell party, but those plans fell through. at one point, it was to be with scottie p washington, but those plans fell through. but picking up the slack on both regards was the lovely alexis.

we went to o'nieals. spelled with all those vowels, there.

its a nice lil place that we've gone too semi regularly this summer. its nothin too special, but it helps fill the void on days we just wanna drink someplace else. o'nieals, along with the zak's, are our new "dipper's" -- sadly shut down some time ago, for bull shit reasons.

steak sammidge. jack and cokes. a nice salad and some bread. and... s'more jack and cokes. not enough to put a blur on the evening, but definitely enough to get things started.

before too long, we were sampling some booze at home, then back out again at 3forty, where we met up with super bartendress cati, who loves to hook us up with free or increased-benefit drinks.

in a heartbeat, i am upgraded from a measely tumbler of jack and coke, to a much more mighty and towering pint of the make-happy serum. and not just a meager one or two... i see three and four come pouring my way, and i am delighted to be on the drinking end!

the barlounge was mostly filled with not-cute-enough bitches, so the evening was cut much shorter than i had hoped. by 1:45 am or so, we were back outside, walking along the hudson, and gazing at the beautiful skyline. a nice view, sure, but... we had so many nicer ones planned for the night!

on saturday, i had some early morning gym. and by "early morning" i mean 12, noon. but its saturday fucking morning -- thats meant for sleep. instead, i kicked my own ass for 80 some-odd minutes, doing my best to disgustingly sweat through my gym shirt. ...successfully!

and then, broken, tired, and defeated, i decided it was time for a dolph trip!

visited the folks. the grandparents. the katfox. got to present kathleen with her much sought-after bottled iced tea beverage of choice. talk yankees with my dad. barbecue food for the fam. even scope out my father's recently redesigned heart of gold store.

it was a good time.

though its typically semi hectic to get there, once i arrive, randolph is always this wonderfully calming environment. so far from the hoboken / nyc / crazy life i'm used to, where everything has to happen "now."

its all just simple shit there. and not simple shit that drives you nuts, i'm talkin the good stuff. just relaxing and easy goin and everyone is nice and the food is good and the company is better and everything is fun.

i like that.

sunday was more or less a revisit to the previous sunday; just a quick, thrown-together gathering of alcohol and barbecue and tv and such.

scottie showed up just as i was carrying a mother load of alcoholic supplies. case o'beers, a nearly-2 liter bottle of my new friend jack daniels, and a bottle of my old friend captain morgan, of similar shape and size. plus, you know, a few barbecue related things, like ice and rolls and chips.

gotta have munchie related stuff.

and, for the tube, we decided we'd watch jay and silent bob strike back, a roboken traditional film that we simply haven't seen in far too long. mother, mother, fuck fuck.

i was beasting this fridays-mix daqairi kit for most of the afternoon. the mother fucker claims to have the alcohol already in it, and all you need to do is add ice. but after two tall glasses of not feeling anything but brain freeze, i modified the ingredients a bit, and started supplying my own booze to the mix.

there's no way i wasn't going to coast my way through the weekend. there was gonna be booze, and it was gonna make me smile!

spw didn't stay all that long, as he had to drive and start back at work the next day. and that left plenty of time in the sunday evening to watch a few episodes of "rescue me" on dvd, now that i've run out of "the shield" episodes.

all in all, a relatively uneventful, but still very enjoyable, weekend.

back to the work on monday. back to the grind. all the annoyances of the week and the office, right here for my own personal use. oh, and the gym, too. can't forget going back to work out at the gym.

nothing really major is goin on this week at work. jon is on vacation. i'm prepping for my own vacation next week. its my mom's birthday today. its lex's birthday on thursday. and my birthday next thursday. so, there's some decent sized agendas in the works.

but work is stil mostly quiet, mostly empty. beasted a sammidge from lenny's in the park, on a beautiful weather day. just sorta basked in the sun and girl-watched for my allotted hour're so. they all look so nice, some in tight shirts, some in short skirts. its just fascinating, and happy-making! thats really one of my favorite things to do, in a stalker kinda way.

and from there, i went to the gym, and did my gymly stuff. i wasn't really sore by the time monday night rolled around, which meant my body was willing to do a bit more than it usually is.

we did more of those squats on the bosu ball thing, kicking the weight up to 225. everything was goin great, i actually really like that exercise, but then david started gettin worried that the combined weight of my fat ass and the weights would pop the bosu ball, which would, basically, snap my spine in two.

so i got all worried and we moved to something else, just incase. i was all jacked up, tho, at that point, so we just did like a crapload of pushup sets to sorta drain whatever muscle strength i had left before i took the long walk home, and the longer walk up my stairs.

had SO much shit to get done yesterday; paying off bills, filing my paperwork, renewing my registration, handling a water leak at my old apartment, talking to my mom for birthday wishes, talking to my dad for yankees wishes, and a shit load of freelance.

finally finished one of my larger projects, the website for corby associates, my grandfather / uncle / cousin's company.

been working on this for a good 3-4 months now, just a little bit here and a little bit there as the edits and changes and stuff came in.

th site is a bit basic, but i think it came out very nice, and amazingly clean n'crisp.

one of the better aspects about it, simply, is that its done! its one of those long-time "to-do" list items that has just been staring me at the face for awhile, and was good to cross off, finally getting a chance to complete it.

thats, really, all yesterday was - a completion day. it was at least 10 items worth, now removed from my to do list. ... at least until next month, when they pile up again. but even then, it'll be a few good weeks of less pressure and reminders asploding in the back of my brain.

long live freedom!

my sister is a big nerd, just like me now!



except... she ... has art talent, too.

...but the nerd factor is there!

...seething...

^{...seething...}

hit up a yankee game last night, with randy mcfuckinchang. we had been trying for about a year to finalize a yankee game day, but just never managed to get'er done. last night, it was go time no matter what.

he works pretty close, but it was easier to take a seperate subway. i took the F up one stop, the B all the way to 161.

the whole way, like a 25 minute trip, this group of 6 or 7 just-outta-high school kids were talkin and screamin and really just annoying everyone in the train, all jazzed up for their first yankee game. like, they were horrible, and doing it all on purpose. they'd get right up in a strangers face and yell or scream, really pissing off everyone else in the train.

so i told them yankee stadium was at he 155th stop, and they got out there, 6 blocks early.

anyway, i met up with randy right outside the bleacher section in the outfield, and we made our way in to the stadium. our section was immediately by the entrance, so we didn't have far to walk at all. plus, it was right by a hotdog stand, so we made the food decision early. only at yankee stadium would i eat a hotdog!

we grab our seats, front row in the right-center bleachers. new guy, lidle, is pitching, and torre has the all-star team in of craig wilson and fasado and company. then, boom, second or third batter comes up in the first inning and hits a home run ... directly at us!

the ball just starts shooting towards us and we all gear up with our hands out. it ends up drifting JUST slightly to my right and lands in the hands of a guy 3 seats down. i was a mere few feet from a souvenier for the second time at yankee stadium!

granted, it was an "enemy" home run, so you really have to throw it back in the field, lest be assassinated by those around you. the kid made the right choice.

halfway through the game, i found he hasn't been to a baseball in like 15 years, and has actually never been to yankee stadium before. i wish i had known earlier, cuz we coulda gone through a whole tour or something -- at least gone to see monument park.

yanks ended up dropping the game, 3-2, in a semi depressing fashion, considering how many chances they had to win it. but, all the same, i had a frickin blast. its so much fun to be surrounded by that many people infatuated with the game. great rush.

thursday, i had me no gym. i had me no work after 1 pm. i had me a car ride to lex's house, to bring her back to hoboken for lunch at green rock. and all this because thursday was lex's birthday.

both dawn and katie were working, even though it was only like 3 or 4 in the afternoon by the time we actually got to green rock. but they were both cool to us and gave us each a free birthday shot. lex rejected my tequilla offer, and went with the more dilluted lemon drop. not my drink of choice, but... c'mon, its a free frickin shot. i'll drink it.

and then it was beer time for her, jack and coke time for me. and thats a good time.

the yankee game was on, but they continued to suck, so we just ignored it and buried ourselves in a few additional birthday rounds, which later turned out to be partially on-the-house.

see? its frickin good to be known in these barstaurants.

they's take care of ya. with the booze.

after a few hours drinkin with the bartendresses, i indicated that we had to head back home, for work reasons. i had taken half the day off at work, but i still needed to be online at the regular "closing time" to update the website remotely from my apartment.

alexis bought that.

we stroll back towards my apartment, round the final corner by my building and, low and behold, laquanda and kathy are sitting on my front steps. they say they're on their way out, but wanted to grab a drink with us, first. simple enough.

we all head upstairs, crack open a few beers, do a celebratory birthday toast, and drink a few down. ... and thats when i tell alexis not to get too too drunk, cuz she doesn't wanna sleep through midieval times.



she's a little caught off guard and a little confused by the pitch, but she frickin loves midieval times and starts screamin n'stuff. kathy and laquanda are all happy and excited too; kathy hadn't been in awhile and lq has never been.

we kill the beers. i collect the tickets i bought earlier, and we walk down to the street, to meet up with the strategically parked animal the jeep, nearby for ease to the midieval times castle.

aweshome.

after a surprisingly no-traffic drive there, we pull into the castle parking lot and alexis immediately spots scottie sitting by his car -- part of the surprise guest list to celebrate midieval times. i asked scottie about it a few days before when we were talkin, and figured he might have a good time reliving his childhood memories.

we meet up, and pile into the castle area, grab our table number and crowns, are assigned to the green knight -- the aweshome, arrogant knight -- and enter the main lobby area, where we speedily approach the bar.

sure, ok, its like $10 for a drink, and the three girls even grabbed this enormous $25 margarita (which was... i dunno, maybe 4 drinks in one big ass bowl?). and, alright, so a picture here is $10 and another is $20 and birthday mentions are another $15 ... yadda yadda ... its all good.

soon enough, the 6th and final guest of the evening arrives, kathleen. she always mentions in her whiniest of ways how now she's left home alone, and laura has mike and mary has matt and how there's nothin for her, and blah blah. so, what the fuck, lets bring her along. she gets along with everyone, so it'll be great.

and it was.

the six of us march in and totally dominate the area. we're callin out all the other, gayer knights and demanding extra food from our man-wench, and startin all these great chants, totally screamin louder than anyone there. the alcohol helped.

fucking great time, though. everyone seemed to really love it. the show is always really good and the food is always really good. throw in the good company and the birthday wishes n'all that, and thats a great fuckin day.

after a long week of work joy and fun, where i surprisingly got a lotta stuff done in the jonathan-less time, while he was on vacation... on friday, alexis and i actually went into the city after work.

noting it as her continued birthday weekend, i took her to times square to hang out for a bit, and of course the most authentic italian food in the entire world ... the olive garden.

yeah, whatever, its no little italy, or il fornaio, or la strata, or any other true italian joint, but... its still some frickin good food. i mean... unlimited, unhealthy salad? how is that even possible??

and, of course, that meant additional drinks and good times were to be had. margaritas and wine and some whiskey, of course, to amp up the already-delicious coke.

it was a fun little trip. lex is getting better at handling "the city", to the point where i'm hoping we can make more regular trips in there, to take advantage of ... well... everything.

saturday morning, i fucking slaughtered myself at the gym. knowing i had this upcoming vacation block, where i wasn't gonna be doing much (any) exercise, and knowing that i missed my thursday spot cuz of the midieval times event... i knew that i had to go balls out on saturday.

and, trust me, i did.

i was settin records in everything. crossover cables, bosu squats, dead lifts, over head pull downs, and like 50 other machines. we even did lunges, 4 sets worth, across the entire span of the gym, with 25 pound plates in each hand.

fucking insane.

but i felt great through out all of it. david actually worked out with me this time, so we got to trade off on sets. it adds a little more edge to each of the lifts, because now there's an element of competition to it. granted, i can't do half the shit a professional fucking trainer can do, but... i get pretty close. pretty often. and thats a major ego boost.

its rare that i'm at the gym, killing myself, and actually liking it. we worked out for like 90 minutes, and i still felt good afterward. ...sore as all fuck, and sweaty like a monster, no doubt. but it was the "good burn" kinda feel.

...and... now, i'll be gone for a week, so i can loose it all and drop the momentum.

yaaay!

but why wait to lose everything during the next week when... i can drink it all away within a few hours, that same very day! its so much more convenient that way, and without all the muss and fuss that travel can bring about.

so, to green rock we went!

got there in the 3-4 range, to hang out with dawn and the amazingly drunk bartender / waiter. got some sammidges, some drinks, did some talking and planning for the trip. laquanda texted me n'let me know she was in the area and wanted to stop by for a drink. who am i to stop fellow alcoholics?

so she plops on down, and the two girls drink and eat my fries while i try to carve all the mayo outta my sammidge. meanwhile, i'm puttin away pint after pint (and i'm talkin tall-ass glass, full pints) of jack and diet coke. so many, and so fast, that people are commenting on it, like its a fucking football game.

4, 5, 6 into the evening ... they start catching up with me, and enrico reaches over to tag in. he's lookin forward to using my money to order pizzas and throw up on the street and have this great time.

i'm able to fight him off, but not before taking on a lotta damage. there are whole chapters of the evening, most notably the walk home, that i have entirely blacked out.

enrico didn't leave any notes or clues behind, either, save a few stray posts on these boards around 8 or 9 ish saturday evening.

but those blacked out moments aside, it was a good, sorta-restful conclusion to the week, just the three of us hanging out, having a good time, and watching the yankees kick the buhgeesus outta the red sox.

and now, i pack. i mean, well, i did other stuff. like eating and cleaning. showered. went out to grab a sammidge at zak's. drove to pick up shit. made some phone calls. y'know, little annoying things.

those meaningless crapities aside, its all just packing in prep for my miami trip. plane leaves at 9 am tomorrow, and i'm gone for like a week.

can't friggin wait.

we don't even have any real plans, or anything. not like vegas, where there's tons of shit to do, and we map everything out. this time around, we're apparently just gonna play shit by ear. sit where we want, eat when we want, that kinda thing.

mostly looking forward to the beaches. not so much the getting sand in my mouth part, or the burning instantly cuz i'm so pale part. but the nice sun and warm water sound nice. that, and watching every fucking hot chick in a bikini walk by.

i've been told to pay special close attention to all the cuban bitches. er... mamis. whatever. i don't have to say it, i just have to stare at it!

but, really, just not doing anything sounds nice, too. not thinking about work or freelance or worrying about bills, or whatever. even tho, sure, i should be doing all og that, but... i dunno. fuck it.

i likes vacation. and i can't wait for this one!!

and, of course, monday morning, the plane leaves early. very early. That’s what planes do. and that seems to be the only kind i ever book. because i’m retarded. well, also because i wanna get to wherever i’m going as early as possible. but also also because i’m retarded.

yeah, heading towards an airport bringing vacation is better than going to work on monday morning, but... holy fuck. the 9 am flight means leaving my apartment at like 6, which means getting up at like 5:30 am ... which is like 4 hours before i have to get up for work. and thats rough.

...made only worse with these new, weird "no liquid" checks at the airport, which have tripled any sorta commuting traffic. lines were huge. waits were ... also... huge. and the subsequent delays, yes, huge. i hated them. i tried to sleep through most, but i'm usually very unable to sleep in a plane. all those frickin binging announcements and such. bastards.

but newarky slums slowly drift away, giving over to beautiful florida palm trees. i dunno what the fuck it is about palm trees, but they're just so frickin cool looking! like an otherwise leaf-less tree trunk just got to the top and asploded, vomiting these spikey branches everywhere. ...and they sound even cooler, now!

landing was a sinch tho. despite our hour delay taking off, we still got to the miami airport 10 minutes ahead of schedule, beckoning the jerry seinfeld question, of why don't planes just go that fast, all the time.

didn't wanna ponder that too long, tho. just wanted to grab my crap off the lil conveyer belt thing, plop it into a cab right outside, then head our asses on over to the beach.

the ride was, i dunno, maybe 25 minutes or something. enough time to just watch out the window and take in some of the sites. i've never been to miami before, so everything was new. its a lotta streets and highways and smaller skyscrapers. tons of palm trees and just as many docks, ports, and ships of all sizes.

oh, and bitches. lots and lots of fucking bitches. everywhere bitches. wonderful, delightful bitches.

instantly, i deemed miami superior to LA in almost every way. the weather was on a par, the palm trees were aplenty, but LA simply didn't have girls. and, if there's one thing i like doing, its looking for them ladies. but miami put all that to shame. it was filled with chicks, literally walking around in their delightfully tiny bikinis.

and, good gracious, i so prefer miami to LA.

before long, we's at the hotel, the royal palm. its immediately on the beach front, surrounded by a variety of other beach-front-type hotels.

check in isn't until 4, and its only noon, but they let us in, anyway.

suckers.

tip for the cab driver, and now a tip for the bag-carry-up guy.

great.

this guy is cool, though. he's like sneaky sneaky from mr. deeds. he just sorta... appears. then tells you little tidbits about miami, or the hotel, or the room. and he talks all funny, like "i-run" for the iron.

so, alright, the sneaky sneaky part is reason enough to tip. but dance, monkey man, dance!

the room was great. not as ritzy ritz as the vegas MGM get up, but still held its own quite nicely. good view. big tv. nice lil desk and chair area. carpet and furniture were all brand new, and the bathroom had that oh so sweet oatmeal soap, which is like cleanser and breakfast!

but the bed? holy good god, top frickin notch.

most hotel beds are this ridiculous combo of styrofoam matress, cardboard crapland sheets, a single heavy wet-feeling blanket, and 4 napkins inside pillow sheets.

this place blew all that away. it was all so futsin great. it was better than my bed, at home. i tried so hard to squeeze the pillows into my suitcase for my trip home, but it just wasn't gonna work like that, unfortunately. its always gotta be somethin!

with the tour done, the bags placed, and keys distributed, it was time to get changed, get the hell outta the hotel, and work our way towards the pool and beach area. thats what miami was for.

geebus, is it fucking hot in miami. like, retarded hot. unfairly hot. the air temp is always a solid 85-90. the sun feels like its shooting at you through a magnifying glass. and the humidity puts any thick jersey summer day to shame. heat is king down there.

and sweat is its sweet, sweet queen.

but just seeing the beautiful pool and surrounding area made it all worth it. the blue waters, the palm trees, the lounge chairs, and the dozens of vacationing chicas, in their wonderfully revealing, magical bikinis. oh, magical bikinis, how i love you, and how much you fail to cover.

we didn't intend on staying all that long right away -- we were both pretty hungry, having been awake for nearly 8 hours and not really eating yet. so, we figured we'd get outta there, walk around for some grub, and re-hit the pool and beach afterward.

and, also re-stare at the bikinis n'such.

on our way out, we asked sneaky sneaky for local food advice. we'd seen a few places on the cab ride in, and knew there was a burger king and other such places near by, but we wanted to start off with some good ass eats before killing all the junk food.

sneaky sneaky recommended a place called the nexxt cafe, two blocks over and four blocks up from our hotel.

the walk was disturbingly humid, but it was worth it as soon as we got half there. nexxt is located in an outdoor strip called "lincoln road" which features a shitload of restaurants and shops and sculpture and cleavage. i enjoyed each of its many offerings.

nexxt is sorta like a local cheesecake factory. big huge menu, lotsa good choices, and massive plates. got some good grub there while taking in the basics of miami's personality surroundings. alexis temporarily dubbed it her favorite place ever, but that title never lasts more than a week.

it was at nexxt that i also saw how fucking expensive the miami area is to eat. sammidges can easily exceed $15 a pop. non alcoholic drinks at $4-5. booze $10 and up. just a simple lunch with the two of us was always in the $50-60 range, and many places automatically add $18 gratuity to your check. without telling you.

lame.

after the food and the drinks, which we strolled around the lincoln road area a bit, just to see what else they had, and what more it could offer. passing every restaurant, you notice there's typically a scantily clad girl of varying attractiveness (5s-8s) trying to proposition you into their eatery.

often, as forcibly as the law will allow them. and not in the good "i'll get more naked for you" way, but in the more offensively annoying "eat here, now. look; you're already sitting!" used-car-salesman way.

we were full, so we could avoid all that. also, they were all in the lower end of the varyiance grade on this particular afternoon. so, fuck it, we's goin back to the pool area.

the sun really does feel beautiful. especially then, as it was closer to 3, and the peak, torch heat had passed. plus, it was a bit cloudy, so the sun didn't have a full chance to sting you.

we were able to just sorta relax outside for a few hours, taking in the environments. got to see the whole pool area and test the hot tub. walked up towards the beach to spot all of the beautiful palm trees right there in the sand. ran to see the beautifully, tropical turquoise water, which was bath-water warm. frickin aweshome.

but, cuz it was such a long day, and we were both sorta jet lagged, by 8, we were back in the hotel room for showers and relaxin and hangin out. and such.