Qu'est Que C'est

I'm sitting on my floor naked, eating Life cereal at 4 in the afternoon out of what I assume was intended to be a small dog food bowl, responding to Craigslist "roommate wanted" ads and trying not to sound like a psycho killer. Yeah, this is going to go well.

I've enjoyed living by myself for this past year, but I feel like I've become somewhat isolated from my friends. I think I can blame some of this on the fact that I had a girlfriend for most of the last year who wanted me to spend our free time together or out with her friends. But to pin this all on her would be unfair, as I was the one who constantly obliged her instead of saying, "No, I think I'll find out what my friends are doing this weekend."

And even since I've been single again, I feel like I've spent most of my time alone in my studio. This is not to say I haven't enjoyed my time by myself (I could go for days reading comics, watching Netflix, and tinkering with bits of code!), but I don't know how healthy this is for my interpersonal development and psychological health.

When I'm by myself, it's so easy for me to ignore the rest of the world and live inside my own bubble. There's no one to come into my room and snap me out of it by asking me if I want to try out a new restaurant or go to a show. Or, conversely, there's no one to annoy me so much that I have to just get out of the apartment and be around other people. I've been living inside my little hermitage, and inside my own head, for this past year, and there's been hardly anyone to challenge me or motivate me.

I'm hoping that living with people again, albeit even with strangers, will help me to re-enter society. Or at least prevent me from talking to myself so much.

I'm Not Mad

The other day my roommates accused me of not having any emotions except for Anger, to which I rebutted that I did have emotions, such as ... Anger ... and Hunger ... and all the others that end in "-ger." I was later informed that Hunger is not an emotion.

I'm not sure why Anger is the only emotion I can fluently express. I was raised by parents who expressed the whole gamut of emotions -- indeed a mother so emotive I don't think she could hold her feelings in if her life depended on it. But Angry is the only emotional state people can readily identify in me.

I wouldn't consider myself a particularly angry person. I feel happy and sad and confused and surprised, as well. I'm predominantly not angry, preferring Contentment or Indifference instead. It just seems like the only feeling that seeps out from underneath this hardened exterior on a regular basis, in any noticeable terms, is a simmering rage.

Sometimes I'm anxious about it, worrying how this has, does, and will affect my friendships and relationships. Though I can't say that this behavior hasn't come without some negative consequences, for the most part it's been tolerated. Not too many people yell at me, and I still have some friends left, so I see no pressing need to change. And if it were the case that I should change this about myself, would I even be able to? Plus, is a Happy McBastard any better than this current version?

My Week as a Social Person

Or How to Make Friends and Influence People with Alcohol

In true McBastard fasion this post is a week late. The week before last I decided to take a tentative step out of the comfortable darkness of my hermitude and venture into the blindingly bright light of social interaction. Aside from the occasional taggings along with my roommates past and present, over the past year I've hardly made an effort to meet new people and make new friends. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but I've felt that I may not be making the most of my experience in a new city. The other week, though, I made up for that a little bit.

First up was a date on Tuesday. I guess I have gone on several dates in the past year, so this is nothing new, per se. But, to coin a phrase, one can never go on too many first dates. It was a pretty good date, too, in my opinion. We were just supposed to meet each other after work and get a couple drinks, but it turned into a dinner date. The bad part was that I drank way too much, but the good part was that she did too and didn't seem to notice. I'm hoping to arrange a second date for some time this week, but she just moved into a new place over the weekend, so I don't know how feasible that will be.

Most of the rest of the week was occupied by what the Intarwebs calls a "meetup" in which a group of people who've met online but usually have not met in meatspace get together and apparently drink copious amounts of alcohol. And that's just what we did.

On Thursday, I met up with some other twenty-something bloggers, from the aptly named Twenty-Something Bloggers community, for some Chicago-style pizza. And then we went to a bar and got drunk. On Friday, we skipped the dinner part and went straight to a bar. On Saturday, we met up at a wine tasting, then went to a bar, then went to dinner, and then went to another bar. On Sunday, we stroked our livers gingerly and went to the Pride Parade. Overall, it was a great success. I met some interesting local bloggers as well as a few from the far reaches of the country. Now I've got so many more blogs to read that'll never get bored. They even convinced me to get on Twitter. So now there's a whole new avenue through which I can annoy you, dear readers!

Now I must scurry back into my cave, biding my time until the next event lures me back into the sunlight.

You're Hired!

Yesterday I interviewed with a small web marketing start-up for a Web Application Support position. I walked out of the interview with a job -- and dumbstruck look on my face, I'm sure.

It was mostly like any other interview I've been one, except the person interviewing me was the CEO. (Like I said, it is a tiny company.) He explained that the company takes schools on as clients and gathers information from its and others' websites on prospective students to give to the schools, at a premium, of course. The particulars of how such a company based on this business model works is beyond my knowledge or interest, so I didn't ask. But, having been in operation for less than a year, they have already cleared their overhead and made a profit, so they must be doing something right.

Anyway, the CEO continued to explain the job in pretty basic terms, letting me know that the CTO would explain it to me more in-depth. He then leaned in and explained that the CTO is a stickler for details. He's a very particular, stringent guy, so much so that the last two people they'd hired for this position hadn't lasted long. With that newly minted terror in my mind, he told me that he would send the CTO in to talk with me. This didn't bode well.

The CTO was a tall, relaxed guy with a big smile, not at all what I was picturing. He came in with a set of questions the CEO had given him to ask me, but after only getting through a couple of them, he tossed them aside and said, "These are stupid." We just started talking. He was interested to find that I'd started college as a Computer Science major, and even more intrigued to find that what web programming knowledge I have is self-taught.

Finally, he explained that the position does require a little bit of technical knowledge, but more importantly, it requires an ability to quickly learn new concepts, fully comprehend complex processes, and thoroughly document gained knowledge. With that, he got up and said he'd send the CEO back in.

I was anxious. I thought that I had the necessary skills to be good in this position. However, historically speaking, I've always thought this during job interviews, but have had much difficulty in conveying this to the interviewers.

The CEO came back in and nonchalantly mentioned that the CTO was impressed with me. "Can you start tomorrow?" he asked. I was almost too stunned to answer. I've never been hired during an interview before. It felt, in short, fucking awesome.

A couple hours later, while I was celebrating with my roommates, the CEO called me to let me know that they wouldn't have my computer ready by tomorrow, so to just come in Wednesday. So, today's my last day of unemployment. I can't say that I'll miss it.

Dumb Move

I'm not sure why I haven't mentioned this before now; like Ron Burgundy, it's kind of a big deal: I'm moving tomorrow.

I'm moving out of the Happy Times's house in the suburbs to live with The Long-Dater Goober and her previous and my soon-to-be roommate, Sneezy. (I'll come up with better nicknames later, I promise.) We're moving into an apartment on the north side of the city, just off the Red Line. It's in a decent neighborhood, and I'll finally fulfill my wish to actually live in the city.

While I'm pretty excited about this move, I'm also really nervous. I came here a year ago with only a few hundred dollars and no job prospects in a faltering economy but with some trusty friends to rely on. This time I'm moving with only a few hundred dollars and no job prospects in a full-on recession and no one but myself to fall back on. This is, without a doubt, the stupidest literal and figurative move I've made in a while.

So, if you've got some extra luck laying around, send it my way. Or if praying's your thing, please mention me to your deity of choice. Well-wishes and heaping helpings of hope are greatly appreciated. I'm going to need it.

Birthday Haul

birthday haul

Thank you to TunaHell, TunaHelper, Happy Time, and Stellar for getting me (or providing me the funds with which to get) the following nerdery:

• Buckaroo Banzai in Return of the Screw
• Dungeons & Dragons: Player's Handbook
• Dungeons & Dragons: Player's Handbook 2
• Preacher, Volume 3: Proud Americans
• Preacher, Volume 4: Ancient History
• Preacher, Volume 5: Dixie Fried
• Serenity, Volume 1: Those Left Behind
• Serenity, Volume 2: Better Days

What I've Learned in my Twenty-Sixth Year

I turned twenty-six yesterday. I decided to make a list of things I've learned:

• Making sudden, life-altering decisions may not work out how I plan
• It is more valuable and useful to make the decision to change than to decide on what (I hope) that change will be
• If I want to pay off my debt, I shouldn't quit my job, especially in the middle of a recession
• I am not well-adapted to work in customer service
• I am horrible at keeping in contact with good but distant friends (though, I think I already knew this)
• I have a very skewed perception of how strangers, coworkers, friends, and family view me
• The Cubs are awesome and the Sox suck ... I guess
• The thought of going back to school doesn't utterly repulse me anymore
• I am capable of enduring
• Apple soda is delicious
• Possessions -- things, stuff, junk -- are a liability; one that I am happy to eschew when needs be
• I still really like programming, and I should find a way to get back into it
• CTA buses don't give change cards
• I still hate old people

In addition, there are some things that I have failed to learn:

• Employers do not care about The Way I Think Things Should Be Done™, no matter how efficient, cost-effective, or time-saving I believe it to be (or that it actually is)
• Why the only emotion I can fluently express is Anger
• What it is like to live by myself, on my own
• How to motivate myself to write again
• How to fix a motorcycle

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Over a week ago, I had to shave my beard because of a job interview. As this image illustrates, I was saddened. To make matters worse, when I got to the interview, the interviewer was sporting a beard. Oh, tragic irony! Oh yeah, and I didn't get the job either. I guess that was kind of a bummer.

Then, over the weekend, I shaved my head. Partially because Happy Time and Stellar shaved theirs in support of Happy Time's mother enduring chemotherapy. Additionally, I so desperately want a change in my life, and this is the only one I can afford. Please, someone give me a job soon, or lord knows what else I'll cut off!

Talent

Despite whatever talents I have, think I have, forget I have, or wish I had, one talent I know I have is a talent for picking friends. They are quick to point out when I am selling myself short (no pun intended), and they have seemingly never-ending patience for showing me the positive when all I see is the negative.

Thanks to all my friends, far and near, who call me out on my bullshit, don't let me wallow in my own self-pity, and otherwise encourage me to be a better me than I am willing to settle being.

That said, there's no accounting for why I have good family. I'm just lucky, I guess.

Dripping and Shivering

When we were still dating, sometimes The Magster Magdus and I would take showers together. When the shower was over, we would throw back the curtain, grab our towels, and wrap them about ourselves. She would step out onto the bathmat and begin to dry her body and hair. I would not, instead choosing to shiver and complain about the cold world outside the shower, mustering up the initiative to step out of the tub. She would chastise me for dripping dry instead of toweling off. Often she was fully dried and dressed before I would begin to mop the remaining moisture from my skin.

But this isn't about Magdus or showering. It's about dripping and shivering.

My shower ended last year. I threw back the curtain and stepped out of the tub onto the Chicago area. Since then I've been watching my friends getting dressed and getting ready for the rest of their lives.

For starters, Magdus is finding peace and reconnecting with her family. As for my other Kansas City friends, P. Tott is finding his niche and advancing in his career. Katie has her Master's now. Rachel has her own place and is enjoying her job. Jaysix is finishing up one of his Semi-Concrete Life Goals™. Here near Chicago, Nico has gotten a place with her boyfriend and is taking classes. Happy Time and Stellar are learning how to not only live with addiction, but also live better in spite of it and because of it.

All the while, I seem to be huddled in my towel, dripping and shivering -- wishing to move on.

December Photo Dump

twins 2

I forgot to mention that I dropped the last of my pictures from 2008 into Flickr. Be prepared for a lot of photos of annoyingly adorable chihuahua puppies.

Text Message Apologies

I'd rather get no apology at all than a text message apology. I don't want to have to pay my cell phone provider just to know that you want me to forgive you.

What the Future Holds

The other day the powers that be at Piggly Wiggly asked me if I wanted to start training to be a customer service supervisor, working at the service desk. It speaks to the poor customer service of the Pig if they chose me -- Mr. McBastard, a guy who would more likely curse at you than give you correct change -- to be their liaison with customers. I said yes, in hopes that they'll give me more money.

The moment they asked me, though, my life flashed before my eyes. Not my life leading up this point, mind you, but a possible path my life could head down: I start working at the service desk, eventually give up on finding a job in the city, at age 30 knock up a 17-year-old bagger, move into her parents' basement, have a couple more kids that suspiciously look like the black guy that works in the deli, and drink myself to sleep every night on a broken La-Z-Boy watching monster truck rallies on pay-per-view.

I don't even like monster truck rallies.

Needless to say, I've become a little daunted with trying to find a job in the city. And the thing that worries me is that I've always been better at complacency and laziness than patience and diligence. That's why this possible future, despite how ridiculous it seems, rings somewhat true. I imagine, though, that Stellar and Happy Time won't let me give up on looking for a job, mostly because I'm sure they'll want me to stop living in their house way before I'm 30.

Keystone

Chicago is definitely a Miller town. Probably half of all the beer I sell at the Piggly Wiggly is a Miller product. Budweiser is in a distant dead-heat for second with Milwaukee's Best and some shitty local brew called Old Style. (This is vastly different from Missouri where Budweiser is definitely the "King of Beers" and The Beast is what the poor kids who can't afford Natty buy.) None of this is too disturbing; I do prefer Bud Light to Miller Lite, but I haven't yet passed up drinking Happy Time's beer. I really don't mind Miller products, and I do get a hankering for High Life every now and then.

What is disturbing, though, is the near absence of Coors products. I don't like Coors Original anyway, but living with Jaysix had gotten me used to drinking Silver Bullets. However, the most upsetting of all is the lack of the most delicious of crappy beers, my mother's milk, a veritable ambrosia: Keystone Light!

So, when I saw that Piggly Wiggly had some 'Stones in stock and that it was on sale, I grabbed the only case there was, hauled it on my shoulder for the 20-minute walk back home, and immediately popped open one of those slender blue and silver cans. It tasted like home.

Like the Deserts Miss the Rain

Stellar recently asked me if I would miss her while she and Happy Time Harry were gone to a family reunion for three days. I mustered up all of the politeness hiding inside of me, and I believe my reply was "Um, sure, I guess," or something similar.

I've never understood women's obsession with being missed. Not one of my dude friends has ever asked me if I missed them, no matter how deep our brolationship* ran. And even if a person (not likely me) did happen to miss a woman, why would she need to know about it, especially before hand? What benefit does this knowledge give her? Does knowing that somewhere out there there's a person desperately wishing he was in her company give her solace? If so, that's a little bit sadistic and a lot bit narcissistic. But me not understanding how women's minds work is probably not a surprise to you, dear reader.

To me, missing someone has little to do with how long we'll be out of contact or how far apart we'll be. I miss someone not because I know I won't see them for a specified period of time, but because I don't know when or if I'll see them again. Time is bearable, but uncertainty makes me uneasy. I miss people I might not see again.

* Brolationship - A totally hetero relationship between two totally hetero bros.

Too Quiet

I haven't posted anything here in a while, because, well, there's not much to tell. I'm still looking for a job in Chicago (though, last week I did start working at a nearby Piggly Wiggly to pay the bills), my motorcycle's still not fixed, and I'm still living with Happy Time Harry and Stellar.

All in all, not much has happened, but you know me: I'm always up for not doing much of anything. It has been kind of nice aimlessly drifting through the past month or so, carefree. The only down side is that it's been fairly debt-inducing. But that's nothing new for me.

I suppose there are other things about which I could be writing in the meantime. So, I guess I'll try to resume my responsibility of inane blogging with yarns and misadventures. Stay tuned.

First Week in Chicago

I've been in Chicago a week already. I'm settled into my room (and the bathroom and the garage) in Happy Time Harry and Stellar's house in a quiet northern suburb. I haven't been doing much of anything productive except catching up on my sleep and cruising Craiglist. Next week I plan on being more active. I may even start exercising again, but that may be a little too ambitious. I should probably just stick to finding a job.

I had an extensive tour of the city proper given by Shayne and Robb. I can't even remember all of the places and neighborhoods we visited, but it was a lot of fun just to walk around and see and hear what the city has to offer.

And I've already visited "The Bean" in Millennium Park, so I'm almost a full-fledged Chicagoan now. All that's left is for me to eat a Chicago dog, enjoy a deep-dish pizza, and develop a love for one of the baseball teams and a hatred for the other. I'm practically in.

McBastard's Last Week in Town

I've been wrapping up my existence here in Kansas City in preparation for moving to Chicago. I finished everything that needed finishing for my job on Wednesday. I said goodbye to The Magster. I had one last drunken bender with the old gang. Now I'm in the process of selling off some unnecessary possessions that I've been dragging around for years and packing up what I really need. In five days I should be ready to hit the road.

I'm finding that it's not hard to leave Kansas City (a little expensive, but not that difficult), but it is hard to leave the people. I've been trying not to make a big deal of my goodbyes, assuring people that I'm not disappearing, that they'll hear from and probably see me again. I give a wry smile and a shrug as if to say, "No big deal." But I'm sure even these cynical, emotionless eyes will mist up before I leave the city limits.

"What, like the back of a Volkswagen?"

Kat: im fricking exhausted
Kat: i was up until 6
Mr McBastard: doing?
Kat: having sex?
Kat: in the backseat of a car...
Kat: oh my dignity

Moving to Chicago

Citing reckless immaturity and a lack of responsibility, I've decided to quit my job and move to Chicago. I've already put in my two weeks at work and made plans to stay with Stellar and her husband for a while. Now all I have to do is actually get there.

A couple months ago I had started looking for a new job -- mostly in KC, but I applied to a few in Chicago. I told myself that I wasn't going to start looking for a new apartment (My lease is up in May.) until I found a new job. I wasn't even going to consider Chicago unless I had a firm foothold there.

Well, I had gotten a little disheartened recently because I wasn't getting much of a response -- only one interview. But recently (as in yesterday) I decided that I was thinking about this whole job thing the wrong way: I had been looking for a career instead of a life in which I had a job.

This realization came to me during a conversation I had with Stellar as she tried to convince me to move to Chicago:

Stellar: The chicks are hotter in Chi-town
Mr. McBastard: oh yeah?
Stellar: It's a better city for getting drunk, watching live baseball, and wandering around the streets with all the other happy drunk fans
Mr. McBastard: i wouldn't mind hotter chicks or public intoxication, but it's the job thing that's driving me right now
Mr. McBastard: as i typed that i got kind of sad
Stellar: Why?
Mr. McBastard: i'd rather have my life based on chicks and booze than a job
Stellar: hahahaha
Stellar: Welcome to being a grownup
Mr. McBastard: this blows
Stellar: Indeed

And it's true. I'm not ready (Will I ever be?) to devote myself to my job and settle into a career. I'm not a care-free kid anymore, but I'm not exactly old either. I'll have the rest of my life to be serious about my work and make money. Right now, I just want to do something I don't absolutely hate and be with people I absolutely love.

It's not like I haven't done this is Kansas City already. So, why move? Well, why not? It's like that saying with the varieties and the spices and whatnot. I'll see what Chicago's like until I get bored with it, and move to the next city. Or maybe not. Who knows? At least I'll be doing something interesting.

So, to the people I'm leaving behind: Keep in touch. To the people I'm going toward: Get ready. And the the people every place else: Visit me some time; we'll do something rash and irresponsible together.