I am kind of wondering if this is all there is. I mean, does everyone feel like this right off the bat, or does it sometimes take years to get here. As I was leaving the office this evening I thought to myself, "whelp, I managed to fill up another day with stuff." Should your career, while it puts food on the table and passes the time, also be something you love doing? In the grand scheme of things I would like to be able to say that there is something more out there. Some devine job that is waiting for every person, based on their desires, loves, skills, and aptitude. But the sad truth is that a vast majority of people are doing jobs that they hate just to pay the bills.
I am not saying in any way here that I hate my job. I like my job very much. I think I may, however, be settling in to the realization that this is it. There will be no "next season"--as there has been for the last six years of my life--there will be no "next semester"--as there has been for longer than I care to recount here. Tomorrow, next week, next year...it is going to be the same thing. Not exactly the same thing, of course. Today I had tuna caserole for lunch. but enough of the same thing to make me start to worry about my future outlook. Oh well, though, right, everyone has to grin and bear it for a while until they can be truly happy, right. I just hope I don't get crushed by an RV before that happens...
In other--probably more entertaining--news, I was recently in the Chicagoland area for a week visiting family and friends. A good time was had by all. More importantly, going on at the same time we were there was the 8th (annual?, consecutive?, I'm not sure) Gay Games! This was remarkable for me for a few reasons. First and foremost that such an event received so very little coverage that I noticed. I guess that should not have been so suprising in that when the World Cup was in Chicago during my High School years I barely heard a whisper about it. And a lot more people [internationally] are into futbol than sodomy. (This, dear reader, is not a fact, simply an assumption, and maybe a bad one.)
The second thing that I found sensational was that the participants in the games actually dispelled a myth for me. There is much hubub that homosexual men are better dressers than mere mortal men. The fact is that this summer, during the tenure of the Gay Games, the only way I could tell the difference between your average beer-gutted, tank-topped, besandaled, sweaty american tourist was the presence of a tiny back-pack. (Many of which were obviously some sort of promotional item from a group to be found at the website gay.com) Oh, I would like to make one notable exception in this catagory for a nice young couple that were wearing some smashing sailor suits...but they might just have been sailors on leave and I just jumped the gun because they were holding hands.
Okay, because I am tired and would like to go lay down--yeah, I know it's only nine o'clock but I am old now and have to have a real person's job--I will give you a brief, but informational, rundown of our exciting trip to the middle west:
[editor's note: I wanted to use bullets for these, but I couldn't figure out how to make bullets on this here myspace device. If anyone runs into Tom you punch him in the stomach for me.]
[Secondary editor's note: Oh yeah, because of the lack of bullets this will be done by days. If there is any day you have a particular disdain for in the roman calendar you may feel free to skip that day and read a day that you do like twice.]
Saturday: Drove all night to catch a flight in Denver, Creepy stewardess stared at me, ate beef and cheese with cheese fries, cookout at mom's where I got my ass handed to me in "bags" (Aparently people were getting tired of natural selection and have moved from lawn darts to horse shoes to this little pufta game where you really have to try to get anyone hurt.)
Sunday: Don't remember why we were late for things but we were, went to the Field Museum where I decided that I could probably take a T-rex in hand to hand combat. Go ahead, prove me wrong...
Monday: Architectural tour of Chicago, on a boat. Navy Pier, where it was ungodly hot but I did ride the Ferris Wheel [Introduced to the world at the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago]. Then shopping on Michigan avenue where there were entirely too much people and almost no customer service.
Tuesday: I don't at all remember what we did Tuesday. I think we bought some stuff and then went to the city where I achieved a tummy ache by drinking a lot of Old Style brand beer and having a very fluffy omlette at three in the morning. However, Fat Tuesdays at the Exit was the best time I have had in a bar in a while, with my pants on.
Wednesday: Slept in late, and didn't do much of anything until I met my mom 'n' them for happy hour. Afterwards we went to a totally rocking show where the Lawrence Arms made lots of loud noises as I nodded apreciatively.
Thursday: Went to a Cubs game where the home squadron was able to triumph over the visiting Dis-astros. If memory serves the Cubs generally win when I am at games, so, if anyone from the team's upper management is reading this and wants to give me bleacher seats for life, I would not turn them down.
Friday: Took in a matinee and enjoyed Chicago style pizza. Very relaxing.
Saturday: Became intoxicated/sun burned at a pool party. I would be remiss if I failed to mention that shortly after becoming pink from the sun we were hailed on at the very same pool party. A good time was had by all.
Sunday: Airplane, long drive, much sleep. Hooray, home.
Although I cannot remember what night it happened on, I distinctly remember going bowling, falling down, and then having the power go out...which led to the inevitable candle light dinner of White Castles. Also, I learned on this trip that White Castle spells their burger with a "Y". Those in the know will know what I mean. Also, everyone should be impressed that, in one week's time, I managed to gain back the 20 pounds I had lost since graduation. Hooray me! Yay, sea level and beer.
I guess that's it. Sorry for not writing more, I'm trying to be better about it. Laters.