It's some time around 6 a.m. on Tuesday, September 10. Why am I being so specific? I have no idea. But we're going to make this blog post interesting, because it's going to be a stream of consciousness type deal. Man... you think rant enough already?
So, I've been working on this short story for a really long time. Probably since about March of last year, give or take a couple of weeks. It's semi-autobiographical. The main character is basically a depiction of the kid I used to be during my first couple of years of college. Actually, he might be a little more daring and a lot more of a ladies man than I was. Even though he lacks game in the story, I used to lack ten times more game than him. It's kind of sad really. There's subtle hints as to him being me. Like how we share the same initials and how we both have an intense interest in music. He doesn't really dress like I do, but then again, we can't all dress as well as I do. Some people can't afford Brooks Brothers. Well, neither can I, but I find it in thrift stores everywhere. That's Connecticut for you.
Anyways, the female in the story is kind of a composite of all of the girls that I have had an interest in over the years. Maybe not all of the girls, but the ones that actually meant something to me. Those who friendzoned me, the ones that didn't, the ones that broke my heart, the ones who hated my guts. I like to think they're all somewhere inside this character. At the same time, she's almost the reason why it's a work of fiction. Blondes aren't really my type and I'm not really an ass man like I made the main character of the story. I'm not really an anything man. I like cute short brunettes who like good music. That's really all it takes to impress me. I'm easy. I better not broadcast that too loudly. People are going to think I'm a slut.
I can't believe I put Manchester Orchestra on this writing playlist. Especially "Colly Strings." It's the song that reminds me of my first bad breakup. Maybe I wanted to be reminded so that I could add another piece of myself to the story. Hey, anything's possible. I haven't slept at all tonight and I'm still running off of some caffeine I had a little earlier with a Diet Pepsi. I'm stuck on my story and I don't know how to continue it to the point where I want it to end.
The last hour of my time was spent Googling "songs about heroin." Why? I have no clue. That search was done after the "songs about cocaine" search. Again, I have no idea as to why. Maybe I thought the songs would make me feel better about myself. Maybe I thought that I could attempt to understand that euphoria through the songs rather than experience it. Works out better for me, health and profession-wise. I can't be doing that shit when I want to be an officer in the U.S. Army.
To be honest, I really hate officer candidate school. It sucks. But I want to be an officer and it's the only option I have left to do it. I've graduated college, so I can't go the ROTC route. I'm not going to law school, so I can't be a JAG person. I'm definitely not going medical, so I can't do that either. This is really the only way for me to be an officer. OCS sucks and all the TACs gang up on me because they think I'm weak. Yeah. Good luck trying to break me, you sons of bitches. You get me for one weekend a month.
Damn. I have drill this weekend. I really don't want to go. But I have to. It's a necessity. Why do I even want to be an officer? Because I want to make my country and family proud? Nah. Is it the money? No. I want to be an officer because I want to feel like I've accomplished something in my life. Obviously, my college degree isn't doing anything for me. When I spoke to my recruiter, I honestly felt like this would be my last chance to make my mark on the world. I just wanted to accomplish something good in my life. Live up to more than what I expected for myself. Is that fucked up? Am I messed up in my head? Who isn't? We've all got problems. Some are just better at hiding it than others.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Friday, August 2, 2013
Reorganizing My Record Collection
One of my all time favorite films is High Fidelity. There are lots of reasons as to why it's one of my favorites. First of all, it's hilarious. But it's funny not because it's absurd humor like a Will Ferrell movie or because it's stupid like a Farrelly brothers film. It's funny because it reminds me of my every day life. No, I don't own a record shop in Chicago nor have I ever had sex with a recording artist. The emotions and what the main character, Rob, goes through, though, that's what makes it relatable. He's a self-loathing music freak like me. His "friends" (the quotation marks don't need to be there, but he doesn't really see Barry or Dick as more than employees initially) are music freaks, too and contribute to his personality. It's a better book than it is a movie, but both are phenomenal. It's just that you see a little more into Rob's head in the book.
But I'm not reviewing either the book or the movie. I'm talking about reorganizing my record collection. Yes... I really am going to talk about that.
In the book and the film, Rob talks about how every now and then, he'll feel like his records need to be reorganized. Sometimes he does it chronologically, sometimes by artist, sometimes by genre. The most interesting way he talks about is organizing his records autobiographically.
It's an interesting concept, but I totally dig his thought process. It's hard for me to organize that way because when I started collecting vinyl records, I just bought them to have them. As time went by, there was more meaning behind every purchase. Like now, if I want to listen to the Gaslight Anthem's The '59 Sound, I have to remember that I bought two of them in the summer of 2012 at a concert I attended with a certain female that shall remain nameless.
It's kind of interesting the way that I get into music sometimes. For the most part, I'll discover things by getting recommendations from the website last.fm. "If you like this band, try this band." A lot of times in the past, though, my music tastes varied because of the women that I was interested in. I mean... come on. That's how I try to relate to everyone. "So what's your favorite band?" After a while it actually gets annoying to me because that's all I can talk about.
During high school, I was pretty narrow minded when it came to music. Classic rock all the way, you know? But once I hit college, I started listening to a lot of different stuff. My junior year was when I had my first serious girlfriend and she got me into all kinds of music. That was when I started listening to hip hop (which I loathe now). So a lot of my iTunes library was devoted to hip hop solely because of her. When she and I decided to part ways (I'm putting that super delicately), I started getting into really sad depressing music. After her, I didn't think I'd be able to find another girl. But that changed. And because of this new girl, I started listening to the Gaslight Anthem and am now way too into Bruce Springsteen than I care to get into. We ended up parting, amicably, and I still enjoy listening to those bands a lot. Springsteen is my shit! I just completed my collection of his studio albums on CD. But I digress.
Now, I've been listening to some new bands because of someone else. It's weird because I enjoy listening to music, but I never have anything else to talk about. It also doesn't help that I've been out of society for the past 4 months or so. All I can talk about with anyone is either the military or music. It's like it's all I know. Oh, well. I'm sure there's something that'll pop up that I can talk about soon.
When I organize my records autobiographically (it's actually really hard to do), it brings up good memories and bad memories. The organization feels like it's by love interest as well and sometimes creeps me out a little bit. In a way, though, it's therapeutic and helps you to think about your past as the past. It helps you look toward the future a little bit as well. What's the next record I'm going to buy to put at the end of this shelf? What's the next juncture in my life going to bring?
But I'm not reviewing either the book or the movie. I'm talking about reorganizing my record collection. Yes... I really am going to talk about that.
In the book and the film, Rob talks about how every now and then, he'll feel like his records need to be reorganized. Sometimes he does it chronologically, sometimes by artist, sometimes by genre. The most interesting way he talks about is organizing his records autobiographically.
It's an interesting concept, but I totally dig his thought process. It's hard for me to organize that way because when I started collecting vinyl records, I just bought them to have them. As time went by, there was more meaning behind every purchase. Like now, if I want to listen to the Gaslight Anthem's The '59 Sound, I have to remember that I bought two of them in the summer of 2012 at a concert I attended with a certain female that shall remain nameless.
It's kind of interesting the way that I get into music sometimes. For the most part, I'll discover things by getting recommendations from the website last.fm. "If you like this band, try this band." A lot of times in the past, though, my music tastes varied because of the women that I was interested in. I mean... come on. That's how I try to relate to everyone. "So what's your favorite band?" After a while it actually gets annoying to me because that's all I can talk about.
During high school, I was pretty narrow minded when it came to music. Classic rock all the way, you know? But once I hit college, I started listening to a lot of different stuff. My junior year was when I had my first serious girlfriend and she got me into all kinds of music. That was when I started listening to hip hop (which I loathe now). So a lot of my iTunes library was devoted to hip hop solely because of her. When she and I decided to part ways (I'm putting that super delicately), I started getting into really sad depressing music. After her, I didn't think I'd be able to find another girl. But that changed. And because of this new girl, I started listening to the Gaslight Anthem and am now way too into Bruce Springsteen than I care to get into. We ended up parting, amicably, and I still enjoy listening to those bands a lot. Springsteen is my shit! I just completed my collection of his studio albums on CD. But I digress.
Now, I've been listening to some new bands because of someone else. It's weird because I enjoy listening to music, but I never have anything else to talk about. It also doesn't help that I've been out of society for the past 4 months or so. All I can talk about with anyone is either the military or music. It's like it's all I know. Oh, well. I'm sure there's something that'll pop up that I can talk about soon.
When I organize my records autobiographically (it's actually really hard to do), it brings up good memories and bad memories. The organization feels like it's by love interest as well and sometimes creeps me out a little bit. In a way, though, it's therapeutic and helps you to think about your past as the past. It helps you look toward the future a little bit as well. What's the next record I'm going to buy to put at the end of this shelf? What's the next juncture in my life going to bring?
Monday, March 25, 2013
A Failed Life Experiment
If you've known me for a little bit, you know how lonely I can get sometimes. I've been without a girlfriend for quite a while and I don't really socialize all that much. For this reason, I decided a while back to implement an experiment. For every weekend that I don't have something planned (going out on a date or going out with my friends), I would have to sit at home alone and force myself to watch a romantic comedy. At first, I thought Yes! This will motivate me more to go out and socialize and meet new people! I was wrong. My experiment backfired.
I now look forward to the nights on the weekends that I have nothing going on. Why? Because I get to forget about how crappy life is sometimes for average people. I get to sit on my couch with a bag of popcorn and watch life happen for someone who deserves it. For instance, the first time I decided to implement this rule, I watched the movie Sixteen Candles. Side note: John Hughes must have been put in the friend zone like a million times in order to keep coming up with these stories. So... Sixteen Candles: A struggles to get through the day on her 16th birthday, which her entire family has forgotten about because her older sister is getting married the next day. She is also plagued by infatuation with a popular and attractive boy at school. Sounds like a total snooze-fest right? Except you start to realize that she is similar to every other girl out there and it makes you think about how applicable everything in these movies are. Although, I'll probably never get that cute, popular boy to ever go to the dance with me. Not that I want to, but... you know what I mean.
It's the same every weekend, though. It makes you forget about how stupid life is by watching how stupid life is. I am excited about leaving for basic training, though. Because now I don't have to justify my reasons for watching romantic comedies and not going out to "hook up with biddies." I can just do what I'm supposed to do down there in the Georgia heat.
If you don't feel like watching a million rom-coms, you can bypass them all and just watch Not Another Teen Movie. It's got every stereotype and combines the plots to all of the big movies out there (especially brat pack films). And if you don't feel like going "full sad sap" you can always just pick Weird Science out and watch that instead. Still, at its core, about some socially awkward kids trying to transition to socially awesome. I still think the movie is applicable. Everyone finds love in a John Hughes movie, except for the bullies. ...And maybe Cameron Frye. Poor Cameron.
I now look forward to the nights on the weekends that I have nothing going on. Why? Because I get to forget about how crappy life is sometimes for average people. I get to sit on my couch with a bag of popcorn and watch life happen for someone who deserves it. For instance, the first time I decided to implement this rule, I watched the movie Sixteen Candles. Side note: John Hughes must have been put in the friend zone like a million times in order to keep coming up with these stories. So... Sixteen Candles: A struggles to get through the day on her 16th birthday, which her entire family has forgotten about because her older sister is getting married the next day. She is also plagued by infatuation with a popular and attractive boy at school. Sounds like a total snooze-fest right? Except you start to realize that she is similar to every other girl out there and it makes you think about how applicable everything in these movies are. Although, I'll probably never get that cute, popular boy to ever go to the dance with me. Not that I want to, but... you know what I mean.
It's the same every weekend, though. It makes you forget about how stupid life is by watching how stupid life is. I am excited about leaving for basic training, though. Because now I don't have to justify my reasons for watching romantic comedies and not going out to "hook up with biddies." I can just do what I'm supposed to do down there in the Georgia heat.
If you don't feel like watching a million rom-coms, you can bypass them all and just watch Not Another Teen Movie. It's got every stereotype and combines the plots to all of the big movies out there (especially brat pack films). And if you don't feel like going "full sad sap" you can always just pick Weird Science out and watch that instead. Still, at its core, about some socially awkward kids trying to transition to socially awesome. I still think the movie is applicable. Everyone finds love in a John Hughes movie, except for the bullies. ...And maybe Cameron Frye. Poor Cameron.
For good measure, here's a song that appears to be in every single rom-com from the 90s:
Sunday, March 24, 2013
A Job I Can Take Pride In
This past Friday, I took my final trip to MEPS in Springfield, Massachusetts to put the finishing touches on my contract and I took the oath to swear into the Connecticut National Guard. This process took me a few months to complete due to my MOS (Military Occupational Specialty). After taking the ASVAB test, filling out a long and tedious National Security questionnaire, being violated during a very thorough physical examination, writing a 4 page autobiography, and passing a final OCS review board, I have finally signed my papers guaranteeing me a spot in the Connecticut National Guard Officer Candidate School.
I leave for basic training in Fort Benning, Georgia in early April, so do not be surprised or discouraged if this ends up being my final blog post for a while. It's kind of weird, but I'm actually excited about leaving the civilian world behind and seeing what army life has to offer. It's hard to believe that in the fall of next year, I will (hopefully) be a commissioned second lieutenant.
It wasn't an easy step for me to take. It took months of planning for me to get this far. I graduated from Gettysburg College in May of 2012 and had been getting frustrated with the unemployment scene. My cousin who didn't even go to college left for his basic training in August of the same year and came back from Missouri with a different sense of self about him. It was refreshing to see this. I thought that maybe the army could do the same thing for me, so I decided that I'd like to talk to someone about the kind of opportunities the National Guard had to offer. My cousin gave me the business card of his recruiter and so the process began.
Contrary to what most people hear about, my recruiter didn't lie about anything and put everything right out on the table. It was nice to be able to ask him about anything from life in the Guard to what kind of shoes they make you wear at basic. After spending two and a half hours at the recruiting office with my notebook full of questions, I knew that joining would be the right fit for me.
I made three trips up to the MEPS in Springfield. Each time I waited for a long time for something. The first time I went up, it was to take the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery. This is a test that measures ones aptitude in 10 different areas ranging from math to verbal to mechanical to electrical knowledge. I waited after my test for a good 45 minutes for my recruiter to pick me up. I finished the test in an hour and a half when it takes most people two to two and a half hours. I was a little worried about that, but I scored really high and was able to qualify for what I wanted to do.
On the second trip up to MEPS, I stayed overnight in the Sheraton and had a great meal and went to bed at 9:30 p.m. The next morning, I awoke at 4:30 and we were at the processing station by 6. I felt thoroughly violated by 11. I came out of my physical with a clean bill of health and was approved for service. The whole ordeal ended at 1 p.m. for me and my recruiter said it's the longest he's ever had to wait for anyone to be done with a physical. Crap happens when your the last one to be given your chart.
I stayed at the hotel again that final time I was sent up to MEPS. Same deal... bed early, up early, sworn in at 11. I enlisted as an E-4 (Specialist), and am already a higher rank than my cousin. But he's been through Basic already, so it's all technical.
I am excited to finally have a job that I can take pride in and a position that my country can take pride in me having. I leave for basic combat training soon and can't wait to come back a stronger, more dependable, and more capable man.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Americana Music Lifestyle
A while ago, my friend Ryan gave me some music files of a Daytrotter session from Josh Ritter. I only listened to one song and then Josh Ritter got lost in the rest of my massive iTunes library. Until I decided to get a free album download from NoiseTrade. The website offered a free live album (22 tracks) from this artist, and I've been listening to it all morning. As I usually do when I start to like an artist, I decided I'd check out Josh Ritter's wikipedia page. I found some interesting facts about him. He studied at Oberlin College in Ohio. While that may not be super significant, I thought his course of study was particularly interesting. He originally went to Oberlin to study neuroscience, but ended up creating his own major... "American History Through Narrative Folk Music." Those who know of the artist know that his songwriting style is narrative based. I would do almost anything to have a course of study similar to that, and actually have it mean something to my occupation.
I have a soft spot for Americana music. It's just a great way of feeling close to America's musical roots. Don't get me wrong... it's nice to hear classical music and British Invasion type stuff every now and then. But there is nothing like listening to songs dealing with traveling the open road, small town life, and leaving something or someone behind. It's just very relatable for someone who grew up the way I did. I live in a suburb and constantly travel my family's cabin in the middle of nowhere. I love being on the road. And I constantly feel like I'm leaving something behind. The genre as a whole is almost like a metaphor for growing up and heading out on one's own.
I love driving, especially when I'm the only one in the car. It's not that I don't enjoy company when I drive. I do. But driving somewhere on my own gives me time to think. While many people agree that if you leave me alone with my thoughts, it can get kind of weird and sometimes dangerous, driving has always given me some of the best ideas and inspiration for certain events in my life. I've gone to Bonnaroo Music Festival twice by myself. From Watertown, CT to Manchester, TN is about a 16 hour drive. It was awesome. Nothing, but me, my iPod, my car and the open road. The Band and Bruce Springsteen are always on my playlist for rides as long as that.
Americana music, in addition to facilitating my long drives, always accompany me up to the cabin on the little trips I take. I'm starting to realize that I do a lot of things by myself. It's not that I am a loner. I just guess there are lots of times when I prefer to be by myself. Unless it is hunting season or my dad doesn't have anything else better to do, I usually head up to the cabin on my own. It's in the area where Music from Big Pink was recorded, so Americana definitely makes me think of the forests and town life in upstate New York.
I just feel a deep connection to that type of music, because it's almost like a soundtrack to my favorite things.
I have a soft spot for Americana music. It's just a great way of feeling close to America's musical roots. Don't get me wrong... it's nice to hear classical music and British Invasion type stuff every now and then. But there is nothing like listening to songs dealing with traveling the open road, small town life, and leaving something or someone behind. It's just very relatable for someone who grew up the way I did. I live in a suburb and constantly travel my family's cabin in the middle of nowhere. I love being on the road. And I constantly feel like I'm leaving something behind. The genre as a whole is almost like a metaphor for growing up and heading out on one's own.
I love driving, especially when I'm the only one in the car. It's not that I don't enjoy company when I drive. I do. But driving somewhere on my own gives me time to think. While many people agree that if you leave me alone with my thoughts, it can get kind of weird and sometimes dangerous, driving has always given me some of the best ideas and inspiration for certain events in my life. I've gone to Bonnaroo Music Festival twice by myself. From Watertown, CT to Manchester, TN is about a 16 hour drive. It was awesome. Nothing, but me, my iPod, my car and the open road. The Band and Bruce Springsteen are always on my playlist for rides as long as that.
Americana music, in addition to facilitating my long drives, always accompany me up to the cabin on the little trips I take. I'm starting to realize that I do a lot of things by myself. It's not that I am a loner. I just guess there are lots of times when I prefer to be by myself. Unless it is hunting season or my dad doesn't have anything else better to do, I usually head up to the cabin on my own. It's in the area where Music from Big Pink was recorded, so Americana definitely makes me think of the forests and town life in upstate New York.
I just feel a deep connection to that type of music, because it's almost like a soundtrack to my favorite things.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Leibster Blog Award
I would like to thank my peers for nominating me for this. I was given two sets of questions by two different people: Karl's blog (Post-College Musings) and Xavier's blog (Working Title). Both are excellent and worth checking out. I will only do one set of 11 things about myself and will do both sets of questions.
11 Facts About Me:
- I used to work at a radio station in New York City
- My favorite food id my grandmother's chicken parmigiana
- I always have and still want a race car bed for my room
- No women are allowed at my family's hunting cabin during hunting season (Boy's Club)
- I almost transferred out of Gettysburg College in between my junior and senior years
- The face masks on batting helmets used for the Water-Oak Little League are named after me (Marzella Masks)
- I wear size 10.5 shoes
- I once bent the same wheel on my bicycle twice in one week
- I once drank Coke mixed with Tabasco sauce for $5
- I was the best man at my uncle's wedding and I lost his new wife's ring in the lining of my tuxedo
- I find football and baseball boring unless I'm actually at the game
Karl's Questions (Because he asked first, Xavier. Sorry):
1. What artist/band has affected your life the most?
I would have to say The Who. Simply because they were my first rock concert and I was obsessed with them for years. I own every album they've ever released and still buy bootlegs of them all the time.
2. What is your dream job?
Easy. I'd love to be a writer/performer on Saturday Night Live. My second choice would be to write for Rolling Stone Magazine, and maybe restore it to its former glory.
3. What are two truths and a lie about you?
My favorite president is John F. Kennedy. I wish my parents had signed me up for hockey as a kid. I play the drums.
4. Why do you blog?
It's therapeutic for me. I can write about my problems and triumphs. I can write about what I'm passionate about. It helps me deal with stress.
5. Until what age do you wanna live?
I just want to be old enough to see my grandchildren graduate college. If I don't have grandchildren, just kill me when my health starts to deteriorate.
6. What does your dream home look like?
Two floors and a finished basement. The basement would be divided in half. One side would be my music studio and the other would be a den-type area. I would have an office where I would keep all of my music memorabilia, as well as my records and sound equipment. Those are the only two must haves in my dream home. I'd let the wife take care of the rest.
7. What's your favorite sport and why?
Wrestling. I wrestled in high school and miss it every day.
8. If you could visit one place for a day, what place would that be?London. And I'd try to make the most of it.
9. What would you do if you had a million dollars?
Pay off my student loans, buy a 1969 Plymouth Road Runner, buy my dream house, and invest what was left.
10. What is your biggest weakness?
Kryptonite.
11. Why did the chicken cross the road?
To show the possum it could be done.
Xavier's Questions:
1. What was the first thing you thought about this morning?I hope my physical goes well.
2. How many times today did you look at your phone around company? Be honest
I wasn't allowed to have my phone on me for most of the day, so I'm going to say 4 times tops.
3. What did you do today that was of note?
I took my military physical and got my fingerprints scanned.
4.What were you up to this weekend? Where was my invite?
I went with my dad and sister on Saturday to the mall. I didn't think you'd want to come.
5. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?
252 licks according to Purdue University
6. Who are your biggest role models? Fictional or real?
My uncle Gene is a pretty big role model for me. He has everything that I want in life: a great family, an nice house, a good job, and a great sense of humor.
7. If a tree falls and no one’s around to hear it, does it contribute to deforestation?
Yes.
8. (Stealing this from Karl) What’s your biggest weakness?
Same answer: Kryptonite.
9. What’s your deepest darkest secret that you’d never post online?
I have an ugly scar on my butt from a cyst removal.
10. Proudest moment?
When I won a third place trophy at the New Milford wrestling tournament.
11. Weirdest habit?
I talk too much. That's a habit, right?
I'm also supposed to include 11 questions of my own for anyone reading this...
- Who's your favorite writer?
- What's your favorite movie and why?
- If you had two weeks to live, how would you spend them?
- Outie or Innie?
- Cake or Pie?
- Who's the one person that means the most to you? If you can't pick just one, pick a few.
- What's something you do to cope with sadness?
- What's something you do when you're feeling happy?
- Where do/did you go to school and why did you pick there? If you didn't go to school, why not?
- If you were offered a million dollars to kill someone, and it was guaranteed that no one but you would ever know, would you do it?
- It's 2013. Where are the hoverboards?
I don't know any blogs other than those mentioned, so I'm sorry I can't contribute to that one. But if you happen to come across this, please respond to the questions I posted.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Incriminating Tales of College Life, Part One
To my parents and children (if they should ever find this blog): I never did anything stupid in college and you should regard this post as fiction.
My First Beer
The story of my first beer isn't a very good one. I wrestled in high school, and at the end of my rookie season, one of our captains had us over his parents' house for a wrestling "sleepover." I had a Busch. It tasted bad and I nursed it all night. I didn't even get a buzz.
My First College Beer
Again, not a very good story. Some friends from my dorm's floor and I decided to go to a party at Alpha Chi Rho one weekend and I had a few beers. They were Natty Light from a keg. Awful beer. Again, I didn't get drunk and it was a boring night.
I was quite the lightweight until my 21st birthday. I always pretended that I could drink more than I could, though. Freshman year, I didn't drink all that much, except when we went out to fraternities on the weekend. I never went out all that much, though. Aside from the story about my first college beer, I'm pretty sure there won't be any stories from my freshman year.
Cops... Cops Everywhere
During what was supposed to be my junior year, I lived in a theme house on campus, and my buddy Ryan (who played guitar in my band) lived in one of the refurbished motels owned by the college. One night, we decided to hang out at his place. So, I went over and was introduced to the mighty elixir known as bourbon. He had a handle of Ezra Brooks on his dresser and we kept taking shots while goofing around on his guitars with the USA Network playing on the TV in the background. The shot glass he used for me was easily like one and a half to two shots instead of a regular sized glass. I must've had 6 shots in the first hour I was there. We didn't go out to fraternities and preferred to hang out. After a while of this, his roommate Rich comes back to the room, drunk off his ass from a party at the fraternity he was rushing, and I'm giddy as fuck rocking back and forth on the desk chair. The two of us were hungry and Ryan says to us "I'm a much better driver when I'm drunk anyways." Naturally, Rich and I believed him and we piled into Rich's car and Ryan drove us the few blocks to 7-11. "Oh shit," I hear escape Ryan's mouth. I looked out the windows and there were about 5 cop cars parked right in the parking lot of the 7-11. Nothing bad happened, but it was funny to us that the one time we had Ryan drive us somewhere drunk is the time when we were all clearly drunk and the cops are everywhere.
Dehydration and Whiplash
I have a history of dehydration. It all comes down to me not drinking enough water. My mom has even had to call the ambulance after I've fainted from the condition. Loving alcohol doesn't help the situation. Alcohol dries you out. In the spring semester of 2011, I was 21 and was able to purchase alcohol. Having friends who go to a big party school, I get recipes that sound amazing. The drink I'm talking about here I have retired and thrown away the recipe. Red Scare (originally concocted by my friend Greg). The recipe called for grain alcohol, which you could not purchase in the state of Pennsylvania by law. But I bought some. And I mixed that with red Monster energy drink and red sports drink. You think the old recipe for Four Loko could knock you on your ass? This is the only drink that has ever given me whiplash. I broke out the Red Scare for Springfest (four days of nothing but drinking) that year. It was all I drank. Well... I also had some Jameson. But it was the Red Scare that did me in. On Sunday, since I didn't pace myself at all with my drinking or drink any water in between drinks, I found myself incredibly dehydrated. I woke up nauseous and rushed to the men's room across the hall from my dorm room only to have the dry heaves. Nothing was coming up. Unfortunately, I heaved so much that I passed out and hit my shoulders on the window sill and snapped my neck back giving me the worst case of whiplash I had ever felt. It lasted for the rest of the school year (about two or three weeks).
I Will Always Love You
Remember how I mentioned Jameson earlier? Well, if you know me, you know that Jameson is my favorite hard alcohol. Irish whiskey at its finest. I had bought a brand new fifth of Jameson at the beginning of my final semester at Gettysburg. After going to see The Woman in Black (February 2012) with some friends, we went back to their dorm (the only dry one aside from freshman dorms, actually) and I decided to have a little Jameson. Apparently, a "little" turned into the whole bottle. I blacked out and woke up in Gettysburg hospital to the sound of my cell phone. My dad was calling me. The college had apparently contacted him that morning to tell him that I went to the hospital with a .38 BAC. I picked up the phone and the first thing my father said to me was "I heard you took Whitney Houston's death pretty hard, huh?" It made me drunkenly crack a smile. I say "drunkenly" because I was still drunk all day that day and hungover all day the next. Did I get in trouble? Not with my parents, but I got slapped with a Public Intoxication charge ($300 fine) and the college made me go home for a weekend. Which I spent going to a UConn basketball game and out to a bar with my buddy Greg. From what I was told, though, after I blacked out, I seemed fine enough to head back to my room across campus. Only I didn't make it very far and passed out on the stoop of a different campus housing complex. A student hit my head with the door as he attempted to exit the building and found me outside in the below freezing weather. I just want to say... .38 BAC is very high and I could have died. Did I learn my lesson? Hell yes. Do I still drink Jameson? You betcha.
This seems like a good start to my College Confessions series. They may not be funny stories, but they mean something to me.
My First Beer
The story of my first beer isn't a very good one. I wrestled in high school, and at the end of my rookie season, one of our captains had us over his parents' house for a wrestling "sleepover." I had a Busch. It tasted bad and I nursed it all night. I didn't even get a buzz.
My First College Beer
Again, not a very good story. Some friends from my dorm's floor and I decided to go to a party at Alpha Chi Rho one weekend and I had a few beers. They were Natty Light from a keg. Awful beer. Again, I didn't get drunk and it was a boring night.
I was quite the lightweight until my 21st birthday. I always pretended that I could drink more than I could, though. Freshman year, I didn't drink all that much, except when we went out to fraternities on the weekend. I never went out all that much, though. Aside from the story about my first college beer, I'm pretty sure there won't be any stories from my freshman year.
Cops... Cops Everywhere
During what was supposed to be my junior year, I lived in a theme house on campus, and my buddy Ryan (who played guitar in my band) lived in one of the refurbished motels owned by the college. One night, we decided to hang out at his place. So, I went over and was introduced to the mighty elixir known as bourbon. He had a handle of Ezra Brooks on his dresser and we kept taking shots while goofing around on his guitars with the USA Network playing on the TV in the background. The shot glass he used for me was easily like one and a half to two shots instead of a regular sized glass. I must've had 6 shots in the first hour I was there. We didn't go out to fraternities and preferred to hang out. After a while of this, his roommate Rich comes back to the room, drunk off his ass from a party at the fraternity he was rushing, and I'm giddy as fuck rocking back and forth on the desk chair. The two of us were hungry and Ryan says to us "I'm a much better driver when I'm drunk anyways." Naturally, Rich and I believed him and we piled into Rich's car and Ryan drove us the few blocks to 7-11. "Oh shit," I hear escape Ryan's mouth. I looked out the windows and there were about 5 cop cars parked right in the parking lot of the 7-11. Nothing bad happened, but it was funny to us that the one time we had Ryan drive us somewhere drunk is the time when we were all clearly drunk and the cops are everywhere.
Dehydration and Whiplash
I have a history of dehydration. It all comes down to me not drinking enough water. My mom has even had to call the ambulance after I've fainted from the condition. Loving alcohol doesn't help the situation. Alcohol dries you out. In the spring semester of 2011, I was 21 and was able to purchase alcohol. Having friends who go to a big party school, I get recipes that sound amazing. The drink I'm talking about here I have retired and thrown away the recipe. Red Scare (originally concocted by my friend Greg). The recipe called for grain alcohol, which you could not purchase in the state of Pennsylvania by law. But I bought some. And I mixed that with red Monster energy drink and red sports drink. You think the old recipe for Four Loko could knock you on your ass? This is the only drink that has ever given me whiplash. I broke out the Red Scare for Springfest (four days of nothing but drinking) that year. It was all I drank. Well... I also had some Jameson. But it was the Red Scare that did me in. On Sunday, since I didn't pace myself at all with my drinking or drink any water in between drinks, I found myself incredibly dehydrated. I woke up nauseous and rushed to the men's room across the hall from my dorm room only to have the dry heaves. Nothing was coming up. Unfortunately, I heaved so much that I passed out and hit my shoulders on the window sill and snapped my neck back giving me the worst case of whiplash I had ever felt. It lasted for the rest of the school year (about two or three weeks).
I Will Always Love You
Remember how I mentioned Jameson earlier? Well, if you know me, you know that Jameson is my favorite hard alcohol. Irish whiskey at its finest. I had bought a brand new fifth of Jameson at the beginning of my final semester at Gettysburg. After going to see The Woman in Black (February 2012) with some friends, we went back to their dorm (the only dry one aside from freshman dorms, actually) and I decided to have a little Jameson. Apparently, a "little" turned into the whole bottle. I blacked out and woke up in Gettysburg hospital to the sound of my cell phone. My dad was calling me. The college had apparently contacted him that morning to tell him that I went to the hospital with a .38 BAC. I picked up the phone and the first thing my father said to me was "I heard you took Whitney Houston's death pretty hard, huh?" It made me drunkenly crack a smile. I say "drunkenly" because I was still drunk all day that day and hungover all day the next. Did I get in trouble? Not with my parents, but I got slapped with a Public Intoxication charge ($300 fine) and the college made me go home for a weekend. Which I spent going to a UConn basketball game and out to a bar with my buddy Greg. From what I was told, though, after I blacked out, I seemed fine enough to head back to my room across campus. Only I didn't make it very far and passed out on the stoop of a different campus housing complex. A student hit my head with the door as he attempted to exit the building and found me outside in the below freezing weather. I just want to say... .38 BAC is very high and I could have died. Did I learn my lesson? Hell yes. Do I still drink Jameson? You betcha.
This seems like a good start to my College Confessions series. They may not be funny stories, but they mean something to me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)