The Bloggy Blogface!

2010! Invented slacks made strictly from french toast. Purchased my 67th pair ever of Old Navy flip flops. Got clots in my lungs. Started knitting. Stopped knitting. Drove five hours to an interview I had no chance at getting. Traveled to the site of the Bowling Green Massacre in a hot air balloon. 2011! Posted my last LiveJournal entry. Found my first grey hair. Developed an odd fascination with porcupines. Stayed with my parents for a bit. Wanted to shoot myself staying with my parents for a bit. Solemnly swore that Megabus sucks. Wore socks a lot. 2012! Applied to 4,354 jobs. Never heard back from 4,351 jobs. Three jobs basically told me to fuck off. Ordered my first turkey sub with onions & mayo since college. Ate bologna for the last time. Read a poem at a poetry slam. Joined Twitter. 2013! Ate Ethiopian food for the first time. Ran with scissors. Developed a sketchy dating app. Saw my first Broadway show. Pretended I was a writer some more. Q...

   I rented a car from a place that was no longer where I thought it was. The signage was gone when we pulled up, and the windows were obstructed with brown paper. I called to make sure I wasn't getting bamboozled. You'd figure if a place was open for business and waiting for you, they would notify you that they, you know, moved. "Oh, we're in the mall now, across from the deli." Great. Your car lot is now part of a regular mall parking lot? Which cars are yours? "The ones alongside the trees" , she said. Super. Here's a few hundred bucks while I try and go find this red Hyundai, my fancy ride for the next few days. I thought I could totally bring my storage book of CD's to play during the ride. Wouldn't you know it, this 2019 car didn't have a disc player. What it did have, however, was a touch screen on the dashboard. Do they even call it a dashboard anymore? I don't even know. This screen allowed me to do quite a few things. Bl...

So, March Madness is churning through like that double Whopper with bacon you totally thought your insides could handle. Just how old do you think I am , your colon might ask, if it could speak. Thirty-two teams left. Two Sweet Sixteens, one for the ladies and one of the men. Who will prevail? Who the hell knows, our brackets are all wrong! Except for one guy. There's always that one guy. Screw him. My alma mater participated in both tournaments this year, both losing in the second round. Both programs had great seasons - the men in particular logged the most wins in program history. Alas, it was never meant to be. And almost predictably, just a few days after the team lost, the men's coach bolted to a school in a more prominent conference. That's the way of the world with so-called "mid-major" conferences - coaches never see those programs as destination gigs. And in a conference where one of the best players of all time is Wally Szcerbiak, there's no n...

   I'm not a big fan of amusement parks. This isn't to say I would never go to one again, they're just not my cup of tea. I feel like I'm not letting myself get a full experience of the place, which is my own doing of course. Outside of the food and random test-your-skill games, I don't really do anything other than people watch and wishing I was just sitting in solitude somewhere, gnawing on a big ol' turkey leg or deep-fried something or other. My first experience on a roller coaster was at the Great Escape in Lake George, New York. I was seventeen, on some dumb end of the school year field trip. The name of the roller coaster was either the Screamin' Demon, Steamin' Demon, or Steaming Pile of Demon Crap. I'm sure it's still there, because who doesn't love coasters that have withstood roughly thirty brutal winters. At the time it was the biggest roller coaster in the park, so naturally to impress some girl I decided to wait in line for a...

I started this blog a little over six years ago. It replaced one I think was called Blog of Advertising Fail. Before that there might have been another one I wrote from this platform, but I don't recall its name. Prior to Blogger I was on Livejournal, like all the other angsty twenty to thirtysomethings were. Needless to say the 2000's have been pretty unstable in my approach to posting public drivel. As another birthday slowly creeps in, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. I'm still writing, just not on here. Not as prolific as I would like, but that's beside the point. I've been researching other platforms to post from, but then I get to thinking why bother? I barely post on this one I have now. I recently deleted a Tinyletter account I created last March. I had to request and reset password and login information, just to get inside. It had one post, unfinished. And, of course, unsent due to having zero subscribers. I also took down a Wordpress...

A long time ago, I was briefly a district manager for a local newspaper. A district manager, at least for this paper, was the fancy name for the supervisor of all those who delivered the paper in a certain area. I wasn't very good at it, mostly because I absolutely suck eggs at math. Every Friday afternoon, myself and five other district managers would sit at a long table with dividers and calculate the business of our designated areas for the end of the week. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, balancing some sort of ledger and what not. As much as I tried to be proficient, I was always the last of the managers to leave. The first thing I was told to do upon being hired was to fire one of my delivery persons, a man twice my age who lived in some strange-looking home along a dirt road embankment. Up until that point in my adult working life, I never had to fire anyone. The man didn't take it too kindly, both on the phone and in person, and within a matter of days many...