Odds and Ends

So, it took me forever to crank out that last post because, believe it or not, I had a jam-packed week. Like smuckers-style, yo. Monday, I had the pleasure of kicking it with Seb Spivey for a bit, and we talked about our relationships with girls, the handling of our booze, our current, respective athletic shapes, and other aberrations. While at times it could've been construed as a pity-party, I tried to be of encouragement to my boy, and he sure was to me. If nothing else, it inspired a post about athletic disappointment that I hoping to spit tomorrow.

Tuesday, I met up with Erika for the concert, powered down a 40 that would've made my main man (above) proud, and got to catch up with the venerable Jordan Zeno, too. And also saw a turtle shell backpack that I'm definitely going to scoop. Wednesday was my own personal tribute to DFW; I'm talking a lot of hours lost in Infinite Jest. Running total right now is 12 hours, 60-odd pages read. So remember when I was contemplating the nature of my reading of Jest? I kind of immediately bypassed the "devouring" of it and kept going right through the "savoring" and now am somewhere between a "selfish hoarding" and "ineffective gumming". I couldn't care less, that book is the Merill Garbus bizness, yo.

Thursday and Friday were dedicated to Win Win, but I also snuck in a little 21st birthday celebration for Danny Vallo with Joel Peterson. 7th grade chill session, anyone? Wheaton Christian Grammar School, stand the fuck up! And tonight, the Wash-Mad house hosted a neat, little B-B-Q to welcome in the warm weather, where James Watertwin and I cemented our status as cornhole juggernauts, keeping our undefeated record alive and our celebratory swag all the way turnt up.

But most unbelievably, I attended a Super Smash Bros. tournament last night. Let me rephrase. Obviously it is not unbelievable that I attended said tournament (see 2008, 2009 tournament win), but rather, that my dead weight partner and I did not win. Or even make it out of the first round. I understand the incredulous stares warranted by the last statement, as, let's face it, I am the manifestation of every dream and hope of the creators of that game. The exact curvatures of that controller are modeled to nestle flawlessly in my very hands. I put the mother-fucking dough in Nintendo; do you hear what I'm clucking, big chicken?

Anyways, I was duped into attending by my partner telling me it started at 7:00 (My strict nocturnal regiment does not permit any post-10:30 antics; call me granny all you want, I don't give a shit). Let me just tell you, I was none too pleased by the time 10:25 ticked off my watch and we hadn't even begun our first match. Am I saying I purposely threw the match, just to escape the potential of spending a collegiately-viable saturday night? No.

I threw that goddam match because I was in the middle of a blog post. Ha. For those of you that know me, I needn't say anymore on how this is a drastic, even theological shift for myself. But for those of you that don't- three years ago I wouldn't have left a smash tournament for anything, biological urges included. I would've laid a steamy grammy in my drawers before I would forfeit a match. Obviously, I have a good amount of pride in my maturation over the recent years. So blog followers, all four of you, you should feel very honored.

Speaking of followers, I would like to sincerely thank anyone spending their time to read my pointlessly-meandering musings. As the saying goes, you could (and probably should) have been anywhere else in the world, but you're here with [me]. I feel like I'm definitely getting the better end of that deal.

Specific thanks are in order today to my friend Kim, author of excellent blog Grab the Shovel. As I've told her before, the girl's cornered the market on quaint, and a blog is the perfect media outlet for her and her expansive skill set in linguistics. I used to tell her how much she reminded me of Tina Fey's Liz Lemon, but that just doesn't do the girl justice. More appropriately, I now compare Fey to Kim, but after the abominable Date Night, I am paying those royalties to her less and less.

Thanks to Kim for the kind words and encouragement!