Okay. This is what I want to do when I grow up. (Not the woman! Okay, well… the woman would be good, too. But I meant taking pictures like this.) Just amazing. I can’t imagine pulling a print of that.
Photo by Camilla Douraghy.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
I wanna be a lush when I grow up.
*grin*
I swear my mother will think I’m well on my way, whenever she gets around to reading this. But I have no desire to drink, ever, really. It’s all been mostly academic interest so far, when I’m out at social events. I think my fiends are just overly social. I could almost go out every night of the week, if I pushed it.
Last night, though, was Refresh-DC. Nguyet gave a presentation on designing websites. (She did a great job, too, and didn’t vomit even once!).
Afterwards we gathered at Chadwicks for the usual social hour (or two, or three…). Met one guy who basically does the same type and style of work as me. Finally exchanged greetings with Kirsten, who I’ve only been in the same room with a couple hundred times. She always struck me as one of those people who is very much not interested in meeting new people, though. This of course should be kept in mind with my absolutely awful judgement of first impressions. Shouldn’t complain, of course, since she gave several of us a lift to the metro, through the rain.
Tried a Woodchuck Cider last night, which I’d been meaning to for a ‘while’. Outside of the martini, probably my favorite so far. Still had the beer taste to it. But it was sour and sweet at the same time. Very good. Probably the most dangerous thing for me, as I’d be tempted to drink too many of them.
Friend #1’s recommendation after hearing all this is to try Smirnoff Ice or Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Good to know.
And for anyone interested, I recently fixed the comments form, so you can once again comment. Would have done it sooner, but I didn’t know it was broken.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
Recently I told someone I had a crush on them. (no… not that person. nope, not them. No…. oh just give up, already!). Briefly, the night before I was gonna say it, I thought for a whole half second that maybe it was better not to say anything. It’s not specifically the potential rejection that worried me. Just that I love the stupid, giddy feeling that comes when there’s someone that you like. The feeling is just pure “good”, and there’s all the possibility and all the potential in the world. And no matter how it turns out when you finally tell the person, that feeling is gonna change. And for a second, I didn’t want it to.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
Went out with some friends over the weekend. Fuck… I actually pretty much spent the whole weekend with these friends. But we started the weekend on Friday night with dinner (yay Sushi!). My friends had relatives in town, and the goal for the night was a little after-dark site-seeing. Up through Dupont Circle, across to Adams Morgan, and down to U Street. Stopped at the Saloon for a few hours, which was packed. The Saloon is a low-tech bar. All beer. No mixed drinks. No hard stuff. And… well… no space. But at Doug’s suggestion, I ordered a Maibok beer. Would love to say something eloquent about it, but they all still taste like failed chemical experiments, to me. Did try a sip of someone else’ beer; something much darker, which had a much more subtle taste. About 2 a.m., we hurried over to DC9 before last call, and very bad dancing to bad English pop music. And someone handed me something that tasted very good, which always makes me paranoid. They don’t tell me ’til the end of the night that it was just a Malibu Sprite. LOTS of Sprite, very little rum. By about quarter to 3, I left to catch the last train home. The party apparently went back to Adams Morgan for the obligatory 3 a.m. Big Slice.
The next day was a party/gathering, to celebrate the arrival of the previously mentioned relatives. Plenty of people I knew, though in general a different group of people than normally show up to these parties. Probably the most surprising-but-happy person to see was Sarah, who didn’t even dash out as quickly as she usually does. Convinced her to fix me a drink at some point. Had to laugh, when after letting me try hers as a test, she proceeded to hand me what obviously was a watered-down version or the same thing. (Vodka and Mountain Dew) Just SUGAR with a little bit of kick. Spent most of the night actually talking to the guests-of-honor. Gave up on the bus, and passed out on the couch about 3 a.m., (where, of course, I lay talking with someone for at least another hour).
Took off in the morning, before most of the people woke up. Needed to shower and offload some photos. Passed out in the middle of those things, and was awoken by the same friends asking if I was still up for another photo excursion, this one to the National Arboretum. Short trip, due to a late start. But always a nice getaway. Followed up with dinner and … something I can’t remember. (Fucking senility). Anyway… again went home while I still could. Work calls, and my friends were sick of me.
As for the alcohol, the only other experiment was last night, at the final Cocksucker Tuesday, where someone brought a wine called “Werewolf”. While I can’t say anything good about it, (it was another red, tastes-like-feet thing), something I’ve been bitching about finally made it’s way through all the fat in my head. I keep saying these drinks smell like 7th-grade chemistry experiment. And while I was sipping the Werewolf, I remembered that most of those experiments involved some kind of alcohol, (albeit not the kind you normally drink).
Duh.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
Adventures in drinking still proceeds slowly.
Last week I picked up a bottle of Kijafa. I remember my grandparents drinking this stuff. It’s a Danish cherry wine. Supposedly very sweet. Brought it with me to Cocksucker Tuesday, to share with friends. Mutual consensus seemed to be that it was okay, though not particularly good. But I wasn’t looking for amazing. Was mostly just a nostalgia thing, and general curiosity.
(And, ya know, it’s probably the only wine on earth I could walk into a store and ask for and know what the hell to expect.)
And it wasn’t an unpleasant taste, overall. A sweet, cherry flavor. But still that same harsh, chemical taste that every alcohol I’ve tried so far has given me. They all taste like something I mixed up in 7th grade Chemistry. (Shannon has threatened to make me try Everclear, after those comments).
I will no doubt get used to it. I’m guessing it doesn’t even occur to most people, since they started drinking back when getting drunk was the sole goal, and have long since forgotten the novelty.
People pick on me, for most enjoying “feminine” drinks. They Kijafa and the Apple Caramel Martini. You can see to them that it’s just not ‘right’ for me to be drinking too much of them. It’s just another weird association I simply can’t comprehend. No one thinks it’s girly if I eat a candybar. But if my drink is sweet or sticky or whatever, that is girly? It’s not like I’m going out and asking for Cosmos or something with pink flowers in it. Eh. Something else I’ll ‘learn’ eventually, no doubt.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
I wonder how easy it would be to find a photo of somebody?
Assume you’re given collections of photos from a group of friends. Each collection is separate and unlabeled. And you know the names of the photographer for each set. How hard would it be to find a photo of each photographer?
Use flickr as an example. Assume I was a privacy fanatic and didn’t tag any photos. If you went to my account, you could look at my profile, and see which other members I consider to be close connections (“friends” and “relatives”).
I’m assuming that in general, the least likely person to show up in each photographer’s collection is themselves. (barring special projects like flickr’s “365”). But that there’s a good chance you show up in the photos of you close connections.
Looking briefly at my collection, I have a fair number of pictures of certian people. (ie, Kier, Stephanie, Shannon). Even without knowing who they are, you can remove them from consideration, not only from my collection of photos, but from the collections of everyone else as well.
How long can you keep narrowing it down? Can you come reasonably close to finding my photo?
(just an example… i label all my photos. could find picture of me in no time flat).
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
I have new shoes!
First pair of sneakers I’ve bought in about 15 years. (The old ones were getting a bit worn, believe it or not).
I like em.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
I think I’ve spent much of my life screwing myself over.
Admittedly, I have the social skills of a turnip. I’m willing to chalk that up to just some twisted little genetic joke. But every attempt at self-improvement seems to have been tragically flawed.
Somewhere along the way I got this image of what is good, what is appropriate, what is productive. It’s a shame that this image doesn’t have anything to do with reality. It’s like some warped melding of Disney, Normal Rockwell, Boys Life, and a couple dozen after-school specials. I’ve forever been constructing this ideal, howdydoody, good-guy image, and trying to live up to it. But it inevitably seems I missed those days and those discussions where people are told that this isn’t how the world really works. And it turns out that I not only wasted my time making myself into something irrelevant, but that I can’t even relate well to my friends because I’m not on the same page any more.
At best, it seems to take me years to catch up with where everyone else is with their life. And it’s not like they stopped changing. I’m perpetually behind and trying to keep up.
No sulking here. No woe-is-me. My decisions, my screw-ups. Its just frustrating.
I think for a few years there, between the chaos of college, and my more recent attempts at once again being social, my life was quiet and calm. It wasn’t so much good, though — looking back. I was simply never challenged in any significant way. And if there’s one sure thing I’ve learned about myself, it’s that I don’t improve without challenge.
Now I find myself with more social relationships than I’ve had since college. I’m trying to deal with friendships and more. At first, I’d just simply forgotten what it was like. But this isn’t even college anymore. So it’s not even the same. There’s whole new levels of complexity for me to completely misinterpret.
So I don’t know what to be. It isn’t that I’m not “being myself”. I you’re following along here, you see I don’t know what “myself” is. These overly-simplified and idealistic things I tried to use as my foundation are not really functional. And I’m sick of seeing things slip through my fingers because I didn’t recognize them in time.
No answers right now. But this isn’t intended to be a dire message or anything. Just something I’ve been meaning to put into words.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
With great caution and apprehension, I tried some white wine last night. Don’t remember what it was, but I’d been assured white wine was more likely to taste good than red, at this point.
And that’s about it. Aside from the martini, it’s the best thing I’ve tasted so far. Not that it’s “good”, but wasn’t bad, either. Shannon insisted it was very sweet, though that’s got to be relative. The closest comparison I can think of is fruit juice that’s gotten to old. (Okay… that’s basically what wine is, but hey…). A very chemical taste. But not bad.
Still a failure as a lush.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
I had a few drinks last weekend.
If you’ve been keeping up with our little story here, then you know that this is the first time I’ve ever drank alcohol.
A while ago, I came to a personal realization that it was silly to consciously not drink. While I wasn’t adamantly against it, I was waiting for … something. But that, in my opinion, was just silly. I know there’s no logical argument against drinking. It felt like something that really should just be another thing to try, another experience to have. No more or less important than anything else in life.
Once I decided that, my only real concern was how to go about it. Didn’t want to drink alone. (Not that I could… would have no clue what to try. No frame of reference.) But while I love all my friends, some of them no doubt would have made a big deal out of it. In some cases, that would have been disruptive, and overall, I just didn’t want it.
So the opportunity came up last weekend in Atlanta, with a friend I trust. That first night, I just had a beer, (Newcastle Brown). REALLY not the best thing I’ve ever had. Reminded me of when I tried to drink prune juice. Or as I described it to someone last night: It tasted exactly like beer smells. And when was the last time you realized the other guy in the elevator had been drinking — based on their smell — and had that be a good thing? Finished the whole thing, though. I knew beer would be an acquired taste. But gawd. 🙂
No real effect. Wasn’t really expecting one, especially at my size. But still … paranoia runs strong at a moment like that. Taking that first sip is … weird. It was like there was physical resistance to overcome… it was so ingrained as something not to do.
But all was well.
One or two nights later, when we were up on the Sundial with a group of people, I ordered a Apple Caramel martini, which is what most everyone was drinking. Special for the night, I think. I wasn’t actively hiding it from anyone, but since I was on the outer edge of the group and given the way the bar was set up, I don’t think most people noticed. I’d told my original friend I had to have at least one drink before the weekend was over, that didn’t leave me wanting to wash out my mouth. And it was actually pretty good. Different still. Strong, harsh. But good.
And again… no real effect.
Later that night, a couple of us were sitting around one of the hotel rooms. They’d opened a bottle of red wine. And I stole a sip from a friend’s cup.
The… nastiest… shit… I’ve… EVER… tasted.
My first response was that it tasted like my friend’s feet. And that was before the aftertaste hit, which was worse. Tried another sip a few minutes later. Not getting any better.
*shiver*
Since then, there hasn’t been anything else. I’ve been mostly at home alone, and I don’t feel like drinking by myself. Talked to a couple people about it, and they’ve been pretty open with recommendations. Though, I have a hard time remembering any of it, since — again — I have no frame of reference.
Like I said, there’s been no noticeable, provable effect from any of the drinks so far. My head felt a little fuzzy, but then I’d been up partying for days. And I felt like I was able to talk a little more easily with friends, but that could easily have been relief, or just psychosomatic symptoms.
It was interesting, overall. And fun, as far as the social interaction it’s generated. I want to continue experimenting. But I have no awful cravings. One drink didn’t kill me, mom.
This isn’t exactly general knowledge yet. So how stupid is it writing about it on a blog? Well… my family are probably the biggest readers, and they have to learn sometime. Won’t probably see them for months, so this way is as good as any. And my old friends are bound to think I’m goofy, or just not care, really. The newer friends… I don’t think most of them read this. And if by some miracle they do… it’s not a secret anymore. And it’s too late to make a big deal about the first time. I’m sure the discussions will come. But at least now they can be a little more diffused.
Special thanks to the friend who listened to me ramble about it on-and-off for a few months, who understood, and who laughed at me while I had that first drink.
Friend 1: Try Guinness or a Hefeweisen next time.
Me: why?
Friend 1: Or Murphy’s Chocolate Stout– that one actually tastes like chocolate milk.
Friend 1: Why which?
Me: was just wondering why those were preferrable
Friend 1: Oh, I think they’re less bitter.
Friend 1: Hefeweisens are light, and usually garnished with orange.
Friend 1: Stouts are smooth and less bite-y.
Friend 1: Keep in mind I tend to *prefer* bitter drinks, so I’m going to have some trouble thinking about them the same way you might.
Friend 1: Anything involving tonic, for example, is high on my list but probably low on yours.
Me: well…
Me: right now, I don’t have much of a list
Me: 🙂
Me: i can see getting used to the beers
Me: the wine may take longer
Friend 1: opt for white wine, srsly.
Me: and the girlydrinks don’t seem to be a problem
Me: okay
Friend 1: Girlydrinks can be problematic for new drinkers, keep in mind, because the taste masks the alcohol content a lot of the time.
Friend 1: Beer is sort of nice to cut your teeth on because the amount of it you can get in your stomach at one time is a limiting factor.
Me: paranoid as I am? 🙂 I’ll keep it in mind, but…
Friend 1: Heh. Drink #2 takes the edge off the paranoia.
Friend 1: Drink #3 kills off hangups
Friend 1: Drink #4 just wants to make friends with drinks #5 and 6.
Friend 2: Wine’s an acquired taste. Red wine is, in my opinion, better with a meal that includes red meat, potatoes, etc.
Friend 2: If it was a dark beer, it might’ve been a porter. They’ve got a bitter edge… wait. a bitter edge, shouldn’t you have taken to it more easily? HA.
Friend 2: I like lagers best, they’ve got brighter flavors usually. Porters are tasty, though; Black Butte from Oregon is quite good, got a little bit of a sweet undercurrent. The only stout I’ve tried is Guinness and I like it well enough.
Friend 2: And like I said: don’t mix your alcohols.
Friend 2: Avoid too much sugary crap, too.
Me: hehe… why… besides looking like a ‘girl’?
Friend 2: excess sugary drinks tend to lead to hangovers
Friend 2: dehydration is, I think, the leading cause for a hangover, but not going crazy with the sugar is a good way to avoid it, too.
Friend 2: If you *are* curious about wines, Gary V.’s got a pretty good thing going with winelibrarytv.com — he’s kind of a nut, but he’s pretty passionate about wine and getting people to find what they like by trying lots of stuff. so the takeaway lesson is: try lots of things.
Friend 2: ALSO. they’re kind of cheesy and lowbrow, but the Arbor Mist wine things? (glorified wine coolers) they have this Blackberry Merlot one. tastes like CANDY! so tasty.
Friend 2: they’re sort of the Hershey’s chocolate bar to a fine wine’s Godiva, if you catch my drift.
Friend 2: Corona’s good, Dos Equis is also good (esp. with mexican food, woot!)
Friend 2: if you’re going to try tequila — I know you have chat histories turned on, so I’m not worried about going too fast here — stay. the. fuck. away. from Cuervo Especial.
Friend 2: I’ve had 2 hangovers in my lifetime and the first one was a result of that swill. oh it’s nasty.
Friend 2: Cazadores: also good. « steeerong.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!
Spent last weekend in Atlanta at Dragon*con. This was my second time down there, and my first time when I wasn’t obscenely sick. As expected, it was a lot of fun… a wonderful weekend. Got to see and do so much more, and spend time with a much wider range of friends.
What is it, this Dragon*con? Imagine every geek, nerd, dork, and freak you’ve ever met. Now multiply that by about 1,000 times. Send them all to Atlanta for 4 days of presentations on books, movies, tv, comics, and general pop culture; and make sure they have freaky costumes. 50,000 people. 4 hotels. Oh my.
Went to presentations by Lance Henrickson, Brad Dourif, George Takei, the cast of Firefly. Somehow managed to not buy a damn thing, despite hundreds of vendors. Went out to several REALLY good dinners. Took two trips to the Sundial, a rotating bar at the top of the tallest building in Atlanta, with amazing views. Spent lots of time with friends.
And I will so be back next year.
Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!