Hey, kids,
Your Uncle Ryan is feeling a little bad that he may have freaked some people out with this morning's post.
It is true that I do not really like living in Arizona, but I think what I realized is that it's time I draw out a game plan for taking back control of my own destiny. I have several grievances with myself which, mayhaps, I should not have aired online, but the idea is that I am working to address those grievances.
So do not worry (thanks for the support, Leaguers!), I am just trying to figure out how to get out of the blasted heat of Southern Arizona.
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
After hearing about it all last year, Jamie and I rented Old School from our local retailer. Despite the talent in the movie, I didn't really think it was very funny. Or well written. Or clever. Or even particularly well edited. In fact, it seemed like one of the laziest jobs ever put onto film, but I imagine they knew they weren't exactly putting together Citizen Kane, or even Thomas the Tank Engine.
But the movie did remind me of how cosmically boring my life has become since I moved out to Arizona. The movie hints that marriage is what dooms you, and maybe that's so for many folks, but I think I can point more to our poorly planned move to Arizona. Granted, before we moved, I had lived in Austin for somewhere in the neighborhood of 16 of my 27 years, so a change of pace was welcome. But when "Frank the Tank" begins describing what he plans to do with his weekend (go to Home Depot, etc...), it struck a little too close to home to be funny.
I used to be a fun guy. I'm not necessarily equating my college boozing with fun (although it was), but I think I had even more fun once College was over, I was working a McJob and Jamie and I were cohabitating (so i have a hard time pointing to marriage. cohabitation as the source of the spectre). I was having a pretty good time right up until the time we got to the Valley of the Sun.
It's true that I am to blame for my boredom. I no longer really have the will to seek out art or festivals or even really to go to the movies (people talk here at the movies like it's the only safe place to have a conversation). I certainly never really "go out" on the weekends. 1) there's nowhere to "go out" to in Chandler except a bar AT THE MALL, and Scottsdale is pretty far away from my house. I leave it to your imagination to figure out all the permutations of drinking and driving which become problematic. 2) The only people I know are from work, and I am their boss, so going out and becoming buddies with them is problematic should I need to get serious with them in the office. 3) The greater Phoenix music/ art/ anything of interest scene is completely off my radar. I don't even know where things are, or when they are happening. 4) what I do know about is either insanely expensive or an hour+ away. Even tickets to go see the Diamondbacks are $45 for crappy seats, and I don't even like baseball. 5) whenever you ask what there is to do out here, everyone tells you to go to Sedona. You know what? Fuck Sedona. I refuse to go there on the basis that everyone tells me to go there, and if these people were so smart, they wouldn't be living in this boring desert. 6) I don't play golf. Nor do I want to play golf. I want to play golf the way other people want to spend their lives reading comic books. It just ain't going to happen, but with 400+ golf courses in the greater Phoenix area, you are expected to LEARN to like golf. No. I will not.
But the biggest problem I have is COMPLACENCY. I've let myself get stuck in an idiotic rut. Instead of trying to find something to do here, which would only be a band-aid on the problem, my goal is now to move somewhere else than Chandler, AZ. The highlight of my weekend does not need to be trips to Target and the grocery store. I don't need to spend all day stressing because I know it will be very hot out on Sunday when I have to scoop the dog crap and mow the yard. Quite honestly, I'm going a little batshit. If anyone knows of any work in a major metropolitan area, let me know.
But the movie did remind me of how cosmically boring my life has become since I moved out to Arizona. The movie hints that marriage is what dooms you, and maybe that's so for many folks, but I think I can point more to our poorly planned move to Arizona. Granted, before we moved, I had lived in Austin for somewhere in the neighborhood of 16 of my 27 years, so a change of pace was welcome. But when "Frank the Tank" begins describing what he plans to do with his weekend (go to Home Depot, etc...), it struck a little too close to home to be funny.
I used to be a fun guy. I'm not necessarily equating my college boozing with fun (although it was), but I think I had even more fun once College was over, I was working a McJob and Jamie and I were cohabitating (so i have a hard time pointing to marriage. cohabitation as the source of the spectre). I was having a pretty good time right up until the time we got to the Valley of the Sun.
It's true that I am to blame for my boredom. I no longer really have the will to seek out art or festivals or even really to go to the movies (people talk here at the movies like it's the only safe place to have a conversation). I certainly never really "go out" on the weekends. 1) there's nowhere to "go out" to in Chandler except a bar AT THE MALL, and Scottsdale is pretty far away from my house. I leave it to your imagination to figure out all the permutations of drinking and driving which become problematic. 2) The only people I know are from work, and I am their boss, so going out and becoming buddies with them is problematic should I need to get serious with them in the office. 3) The greater Phoenix music/ art/ anything of interest scene is completely off my radar. I don't even know where things are, or when they are happening. 4) what I do know about is either insanely expensive or an hour+ away. Even tickets to go see the Diamondbacks are $45 for crappy seats, and I don't even like baseball. 5) whenever you ask what there is to do out here, everyone tells you to go to Sedona. You know what? Fuck Sedona. I refuse to go there on the basis that everyone tells me to go there, and if these people were so smart, they wouldn't be living in this boring desert. 6) I don't play golf. Nor do I want to play golf. I want to play golf the way other people want to spend their lives reading comic books. It just ain't going to happen, but with 400+ golf courses in the greater Phoenix area, you are expected to LEARN to like golf. No. I will not.
But the biggest problem I have is COMPLACENCY. I've let myself get stuck in an idiotic rut. Instead of trying to find something to do here, which would only be a band-aid on the problem, my goal is now to move somewhere else than Chandler, AZ. The highlight of my weekend does not need to be trips to Target and the grocery store. I don't need to spend all day stressing because I know it will be very hot out on Sunday when I have to scoop the dog crap and mow the yard. Quite honestly, I'm going a little batshit. If anyone knows of any work in a major metropolitan area, let me know.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Look out, RHPT...
It appears all of us working in the tech sector may soon be in for a replacement. Unfortunately, I've seen how this plays out, and it ain't pretty...
It appears all of us working in the tech sector may soon be in for a replacement. Unfortunately, I've seen how this plays out, and it ain't pretty...
NERD ALERT!!!!
The Batman fanfilm which caused such a ruckus at the San Diego ComicCon can be found here. People have apparently been going batty over the thing. Batty... ha ha ha... ahhhhhh, me....
(update)
Well, I watched the Batman thing (it's a Quicktime download). The video looks really nice, and if you're an Alex Ross fan, Batman and Joker actually look really, really cool. The dialog is really terrible, and the "twists" they add in are... I don't know what they are...
Honestly, I don't know what this is. It reminds me of something I would have dreamt up in 8th grade, but I assume adults are behind it. Anyway, give it a shot, but don't break your arm trying to download the thing.
The Batman fanfilm which caused such a ruckus at the San Diego ComicCon can be found here. People have apparently been going batty over the thing. Batty... ha ha ha... ahhhhhh, me....
(update)
Well, I watched the Batman thing (it's a Quicktime download). The video looks really nice, and if you're an Alex Ross fan, Batman and Joker actually look really, really cool. The dialog is really terrible, and the "twists" they add in are... I don't know what they are...
Honestly, I don't know what this is. It reminds me of something I would have dreamt up in 8th grade, but I assume adults are behind it. Anyway, give it a shot, but don't break your arm trying to download the thing.
Monday, July 21, 2003
This afternoon I called the good folks at ADOT to figure out what I was supposed to do about my license plate. "What did you want on your plate?"
"Krypto. K-R-Y-P-T-O. Krypto."
"It's coming up as a drug reference."
"You computer has file of drug references?"
"Yes sir."
"And Krypto was one of them?"
"Yep. Ice, Special K, all this stuff I never heard of. All drugs."
"And Krypto?"
"You never know."
What was not clear was that anyone has ever actually called anything Krypto. But a quick web-search turns up that Krypto is a specific breed of marijuana. Who knew?!!
according to the DOJ: "Krypto," short for kryptonite, is hydroponically grown marijuana that is supplied by Philadelphia-based criminal groups who transport the drug to Atlantic City.
So because some idiot in Philly has decided to call his dope "Krypto," I may not get my license plate. I will find out after the "committee" reviews my request the 2nd Thursday in August. I am thrilled to know I get no rebuttal. Further, I wonder if DC comics knows the name of their beloved character has been co-opted for what sounds like some scientifically enhanced bud?
And can't the state of Arizona accept the fact I like to get groovy and just let the license plate slide? I suppose not. The ultimate irony being that this hydroponic weed is so potent, they named it after the stuff which takes down Superman. So the Superman connection comes full circle. I wonder if there's any "Ace the Bathound" wonder weed?
"Krypto. K-R-Y-P-T-O. Krypto."
"It's coming up as a drug reference."
"You computer has file of drug references?"
"Yes sir."
"And Krypto was one of them?"
"Yep. Ice, Special K, all this stuff I never heard of. All drugs."
"And Krypto?"
"You never know."
What was not clear was that anyone has ever actually called anything Krypto. But a quick web-search turns up that Krypto is a specific breed of marijuana. Who knew?!!
according to the DOJ: "Krypto," short for kryptonite, is hydroponically grown marijuana that is supplied by Philadelphia-based criminal groups who transport the drug to Atlantic City.
So because some idiot in Philly has decided to call his dope "Krypto," I may not get my license plate. I will find out after the "committee" reviews my request the 2nd Thursday in August. I am thrilled to know I get no rebuttal. Further, I wonder if DC comics knows the name of their beloved character has been co-opted for what sounds like some scientifically enhanced bud?
And can't the state of Arizona accept the fact I like to get groovy and just let the license plate slide? I suppose not. The ultimate irony being that this hydroponic weed is so potent, they named it after the stuff which takes down Superman. So the Superman connection comes full circle. I wonder if there's any "Ace the Bathound" wonder weed?
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