March 17, 2009 March 17, 2009
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Unemployment
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I was laid off about a week ago. I got a decent severance package and am headed to law school in the fall, so I’m not exactly scrambling to find a new job. This leaves me with too much free time which I haven’t really done anything with. So, I’ve decided to chronicle my day. Maybe it will motivate me to actually, you know, go do something. Who knows if this will last longer than today.
10:00 am: Wake up to alarm. Reset alarm to 11:00 am, turn over and go back to sleep.
10:29 am: Phone rings. Recognize first three digits as the exchange for old job, but don’t recognize last four digits. Definitely not from anyone in my old practice group. Contemplate not answering. Answer anyway. Woman from HR reminding me to file for unemployment before I can start receiving my severance pay.
10:32 am: Turn over and go back to sleep.
11:00 am: Wake up to alarm again.
11:15 am: Finally get out of bed, go to bathroom to brush teeth, wash face, pee and shave. Not all at the same time.
12:15 pm: Walk into dentist’s office wondering if cute dental hygienist will clean my teeth. Disappointed when a different, not nearly as attractive, hygienist tells me to sit down in dentist chair. Get mildly chastised for not flossing at all. Choke on pool of saliva at the bottom of my throat because less attractive hygienist will not pull mirror and cleaning tool out of my mouth long enough to let me swallow (that’s what she said). Finally swallow. Get reminded to floss everyday. Hygenist finishes cleaning my teeth. Get reminded to floss everyday, again.
1:00 pm: Dentist comes over to check my teeth. Tells me I take great care of my teeth despite never flossing. Subtly smirk at less attractive hygenist. After two years and three appointments with said dentist, still can’t decide if he’s gay or just really metrosexual. I mean, don’t well-dressed gay dudes wear Gucci and Armani and not Brooks Brothers?
1:45 pm: Go to Giant to grab a few things.
2:30 pm: Get home, make lunch and plop down in front of TV.
4:30ish pm: Fall asleep in front of TV.
5:15 pm: Wake up to roommate coming home from work.
5:45 pm: Finally file for unemployment, which takes much longer than one would think.
7:00 pm: Watch Caps beat Panthers 3-0 while eating dinner. Twice.
10:12 pm: Stare at my toenails to see if I can actually see them grow while listening to Bon Iver.
11:21 pm: Get frustrated because my toenails grow too slowly.
11:22 pm: Wonder to myself if I would like Bon Iver more if I could actually understand what he was singing.
11:23 pm: Sit down to write silly blog post about my day.
1:30 am: Set alarm for 9:30 am to make sure I wake up in time to get to physical therapy.
1:31 am: Go to bed.
I Can’t Believe I’m Doing This February 27, 2009
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Mindless Things
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I usually don’t do these because I answer enough questions on a daily basis from the women in my family. But I’m bored and I need something mindless to do. Also, this is way easier than that “25 Things” facebook meme because I don’t have to pick out 25 random things. I just answer the questions. Mindless.
I’m supposed to tag other people, but none of my friends blog anymore and I don’t have any faceless blogger friends, sooooooooo here we go.
1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? John and Charles Wesley. John founded the Methodist Church and Charles wrote half of the hymns they sing. Also, I think my parents just like giving their kids names that make them sound like wealthy Brits. Wesley. Bradford. Allison. After all, my dad is King.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? I think after my grandfather died. I did tear up a little during The Family Stone because its an eerily similar story to me and mom, minus the death part.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? I’m indifferent. It’s not great. It’s not horrible. Although, I did get an N (needs improvement) one semester in 4th grade for handwriting.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Does chicken salad count? If not, corned beef.
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? No.
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Of course. In certain situations, I can make you look comparatively less assholish and cynical.
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM? Well, only once in a blue moon. Stupid question.
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Yes.
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? I have a slight aversion to heights. But, that just makes going on roller coasters more fun. So, yeah.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Crispix.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Only my dress shoes. But, that’s only because you can’t get the shoe trees in them otherwise.
12. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Breyer’s Coffee. Edy’s Cookies and Cream.
13. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? When speaking to me, if they look me in the eye. If not, whether their pants are the right length. Is it really that difficult to go to a tailor?
14. RED OR PINK? Red.
15. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? At times I can come off as a bit aloof, which, I suppose is because sometimes I am a bit aloof. Don’t take it personally. If I really don’t like you, you’ll know.
16. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? My grandfather.
17. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST? Uh, was this question just thrown in so someone could call this “40 Questions” instead of “39 Questions”?
18. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Gray sweatpants. No shoes.
19. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Radiohead – Idioteque.
20. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Navy?
21. FAVORITE SMELLS? The smell of an ice rink. There’s no way I could describe what that smells like, but it is a distinctly enjoyable smell. Like the smell of a new car.
22. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? My dad.
23. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Another stupid question. No one sent this to me, so I guess I sent this to myself? So, yeah.
24. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Ice Hockey.
25. HAIR COLOR? Black.
26. EYE COLOR? Brown.
27. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? No.
28. FAVORITE FOOD? Jameson. A properly cooked medium rare ribeye. My last meal would be a ribeye with a side of asparagus with a glass of Jameson to finish it off.
29. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Scary movies bore me.
30. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Pineapple Express. By myself. You really shouldn’t watch funny movies by yourself.
31. SUMMER OR WINTER? Winter.
32. HUGS OR KISSES? Kisses.
33. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Eh, I’m not tagging anyone.
34. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Eh, I’m not tagging anyone.
35. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell. Outliers was decidedly better.
36. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? I don’t have a mousepad.
37. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Maryland-Duke game.
38. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? The Rolling Stones.
39. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? China.
40. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Sibley Memorial Hospital. Washington, D.C.
What Kind of Month Has It Been February 17, 2009
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.add a comment
I usually have no problem expressing myself through writing when I am in a place like this. It’s when everything is going well that I don’t have much to write about. But for some reason, I cannot put into words how I feel. I have sat down to write every evening for the last four days, but nothing has come. I don’t know what it is about this particular death that is different than the others. I don’t know how to deal with any of this. What usually happens is that some days I feel better, some days I feel worse. But eventually I get through it. I know it’s only been about three weeks, but it’s not getting better. I don’t think I’m mourning any more or differently this time around. Perhaps it’s just the sheer number that has me. Four in twelve months.
Last Sunday I perched myself on the couch in front of the TV for the better part of the late afternoon and evening. With a glass in hand, a bottle of Jameson and plenty of ice I sat there in my temporary escape trying to figure out how to deal. Truth is, you never really escape. I sat there with my mind swirling, trying to make sense of it all. Four deaths in twelve months. There had to be some lesson to be learned. Some insightful moment that would help make things better. Of course there wasn’t. I picked myself up off the couch and went to bed drunk, disappointed and even more confused.
The next morning I ambled out of bed around 9. I got to work an hour late, but it didn’t really matter. My bosses were all at a conference in California and I had very little work to do. I sat at my desk still in a bit of a daze. Then I read this from another blogger:
Then again, I think the biggest mark of maturity is no longer waiting around for a soul-scorching insight. I don’t seek out those tiny moments where everything makes sense, because I know now that it’s a process that will likely never end. And I’d be bored out of my mind if it ever did.
There it was. The “insight” that I was looking for. There rarely are any “soul-scorching insights” to be made. You’re not going to be able to make sense out of every situation. Sometimes that’s just the way life goes. It didn’t make me feel any better. I’m still trying to figure out how to deal. But I’m no longer wasting my time trying to understand everything that has gone on. Maybe that’s a start.
Gone to Touch the Face of God February 4, 2009
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Astronaut, Death, Space
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In the past year, I’ve had three friends pass away. Today makes four. All through tragic circumstances. I suppose passing away in your early twenties is tragic enough on its own. But one suicide, two illnesses and getting hit by a drunk driver are all tragic regardless of age. People keep telling me that everything happens for a reason. I don’t accept that. What possible reason is there for someone being so emotionally beaten and battered that the only way to stop the pain is to swallow a whole bottle of pills? What possible reason is there for a perfectly healthy 22 year old to come down with leukemia, fight for his life smiling the whole way, only to succumb because the research hasn’t caught up to the disease yet? Somebody tell me please.
My friend Stefan wanted to be an astronaut. I don’t mean he dreamed about walking on the moon when he was four years old. I mean he dreamed about walking on the moon when he was twenty-four years old. As I understand it, there are two ways to get into space: 1) become a military test fighter pilot like John Glenn and Neil Armstrong or 2) become a mission specialist, the rocket scientists and space walkers. Stefan wanted to join the Air Force to become a fighter pilot. When he was told he couldn’t do that because his eyesight wasn’t good enough, he decided to study jet engine propulsion. He was a rocket scientist and got a job with NASA. He didn’t get selected into the astronaut training program. It’s damn near impossible. Something like 4000 people apply for 20 spots every two years. But, he figured, if he couldn’t get into space, the next best thing would be to work on something that would make it to space.
Three days ago, he was hit by a drunk driver at 3 in the afternoon.
Stef, you didn’t make it to space in this lifetime, but with your outstretched arm, you’ve slipped the surly bonds of earth and gone to touch the face of God.
Two Down, Eight To Go February 4, 2009
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Boston, D.C., Law School, Living, New York City, Undershirts
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I got rejected from a law school last week. I got into a law school last week. They are the first two schools I’ve heard back from. Neither of them were my top choice. Or my second or third or even fourth choice. But it’s nice to know that I’ve gotten in somewhere. Relieves some of the wondering. Eight more schools to hear from. I’ve been sitting around merely existing for the last year and a half or so since I finished college. Lost touch with a bunch of friends from school. Made a handful of new friends. Had a string of first dates. A few second dates. And even a couple girls who put up with me for a month or two. I’d even go as far as to say I actually liked them. But in the back of my mind, knowing that I might be gone from D.C., I never let them go anywhere.
My dating life has pretty much been a microcosm of my time in D.C. I haven’t let myself get attached to anyone or anything here because I don’t want to have to leave anything important behind. Much of this is because I hope that I’ll be in law school in New York City. Maybe Boston. Just not D.C. This makes me a little sad. Maybe sad isn’t the right word. Being sad in this case entails some sort of regret. I don’t regret any of my time in D.C. I’ve had a blast here living in a house with some of my closest friends and hanging out with others along the way. Yet, for lack of a better word, I feel a bit sad. What if I do end up back here in D.C. Other than growing up in the area, I have no real connection to the place. It’ll basically be like starting over with new. A new place to live. New people to meet. Maybe I do have a regret or two.
Eight more schools to hear from. Hopefully one of them will be my ticket out of here for a fresh and real new start. To living rather than just existing.
—–
This has nothing to do with anything other than just being a pet peeve. But for chrissakes, can people please learn to wear a proper undershirt? I’m not talking about going out on the weekend wearing a collared shirt without an undershirt. I certainly do this with polos in the summer when it’s way too hot to be wearing more than one shirt. I’m talking about in the workplace. I work in a law firm where the dress code is business casual. Basically, slacks and a collared shirt and no tie. Why do people insist on wearing a colored t-shirt under their button down? The workplace isn’t about matching your undershirt to your dress shirt. You look like an unprofessional fool who hasn’t mentally moved himself past college. And the absolute worst is a t-shirt under a white dress shirt. Everyone in the office can see that you went to MTV’s Cancun Spring Break at Señor Frog’s and took too many shots with some random girl from Wichita State. I’m pretty sure your partner isn’t looking too kindly on that. Go to Macy’s and buy yourself two threepacks of undershirts. It’ll last you a week and a day. It shouldn’t cost you more than $30. Am I the only person who feels this way?
Is it 2009 yet? November 9, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: New Year, Points of Demcarcation
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I’m not the type of person who makes resolutions on January 1 or buys into the whole new year fresh start thing. It always seemed like an artificial point of demarcation. It shouldn’t take a a new year for you to decide to start fresh or stop biting your nails. But, this time around I am excited. Well, probably more a feeling of relief than excitement for this year to be over. I’m not starting new or making any resolutions. I’m just setting a point of demarcation.
I guess artificial points of demcarcation are sometimes comforting.
God Hates Lithium August 5, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Experiments, Fred Phelps, Lithium, Westboro Baptist Church
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So you know that church that pickets funerals for Iraqi soldiers holding up signs that say “God Hates Fags” and blames the deaths on this country’s acceptance of homosexuality? There was a fire at their church on Saturday morning. Dare I say an act of God (sorry I had to).
If you haven’t heard of Fred Phelps or the Westboro Baptist Church, from Wikipedia:
The church runs numerous websites such as GodHatesFags.com, GodHatesAmerica.com and others expressing condemnation of homosexuality, Roman Catholics, Muslims and Jews, as well as populations it believes are supporting the aforementioned groups, including Chinese, Swedes, Canadians, Irish, British, Mexicans and Americans.
Read the blog on GodHatesFags.com. It’s a treat.
I have friends who are on various medications for things like ADD or bipolar disorder. I remember during high school and college, some of them would take a vacation from their meds during the summer so they could try to feel as close to normal as possible. I’ve decided I’m going to try the opposite. I’m taking a whole week off in September, so what better time to try my little experiment.
I’m so happy cos today
I’ve found my friends, they’re in my head
I’m so ugly, that’s Okay
Cos so are you, broke our mirrors
Sunday morning is every day
For all I care and I’m not scared
Light my candles in a daze
Cos I’ve found GodYEAAAAAAAAAAAAH YEAH YEAH!
I feel like it’s a good time to feel completely numb. I think it would be nice not to feel anything at all for a few days. So the plan is to take some Lithium and completely dry myself out. Then after a few days, I’ll stop taking it and start to feel again. This would then make me realize what I was missing out on in my numbness and push me to appreciate the feelings and mood swings.
I’ve been on mood stabilizers before and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way. Oh well. Maybe I just need something more powerful. Anyone on a vacation from their meds this summer and have a few to spare?
It’s 11:15 on Tuesday night. Let’s see how long it takes for my mom to see this and ask me if I need to start seeing a shrink again. I am cruel.
Breathe, Stretch, Shake, Let it Go July 25, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Appreciate the Prose, Dad, Driving, Mannerisms
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I find myself noticing mannerisms that I have in common with my dad more and more. I used to swear up and down that I wouldn’t be like my dad. But, truth be told, it isn’t the worst thing in the world. I furrow my brow unnecessarily, am overly methodical in certain small tasks, the list goes on a bit.
When I was younger, we used pack up the minivan and drive just about everywhere for vacation. Before my brother, sister and I could drive, my dad would naturally do most of the driving. After a few hours, fatigue would set in and my dad would always do this little thing. He would arch his shoulders back and stretch a bit at the wheel and then follow it with a deep inhale and an even longer sigh. Not a normal sigh, though. The exhale was completely through his nose. I’m pretty sure he was trying to keep himself awake. I know this because a couple weekends ago on the drive to and from East Hampton as my eyes started drooping, I would arch my shoulders back and stretch a bit at the wheel and followed it with a deep inhale and even longer sigh. I guess you can’t stop the inevitable. Not a normal sigh, though. the exhale was completely through my nose.
—–
The Wrong Side of Great, about the high school phenom that Tracy McGrady posterized and his life since.
My Grandfather Could Teach Howard Dean Solitaire July 8, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Cards, Family, Grandparents, Howard Dean
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My grandparents lived with my family for a period of time while my mom was sick and for a few years after. They used to keep the TV on at night. I’m pretty sure half the time they weren’t even watching, since my grandmother used to read the Chinese tabloids and my grandfather would continually play solitaire while sipping on Remy Martin or Johnnie Walker.
For whatever reason, my grandfather had decks and decks of cards from Northwest Airlines. He lived with my older cousins for years before that, and he had those decks even then. If you open the drawers in my parents’ guest room (their old room) there’s probably you’ll probably still find an unopened deck of Northwest Airlines cards. I’m not sure how he got them, but every card game I played when I was younger was played with a deck of Northwest Airlines cards. He was an accountant into his 70s, so maybe one of his company’s clients was Northwest. Who knows. Usually I would just sit and watch him play. Every once in a while I’d reach onto his nightstand and grab a deck. He always had more than one deck on the nightstand. I got so excited to deal out the cards so the solitaire game would be all set up. I’d play for about 10 minutes and get stuck. My grandfather would glance over at my game, hint at a move I was missing and go back to his game. In the time it took me to finish one game, he probably finished three. But I digress.
Most of the time, I would crawl into their bed just so I could watch TV. I didn’t really even go in to watch TV. A lot of the time, they were watching the Chinese news, which I understood almost none of, since it was all in Mandarin. It was more along the lines of, if my grandparents would let me watch TV, there’s nothing my parents would do about it. Really, I just went into their room because I liked sitting in between my grandparents. I think my parents let me be, because they liked that I liked to spend time with my grandparents and it allowed them to worry about one less kid while they were trying to get my younger brother and sister to bed.
I used to have a habit of sitting in front of the TV mouth agape (that’s a funny word). My grandfather used to always tell me to close my mouth, telling me that that was something only the lower class did. I don’t do it anymore, so it must have worked.
Which brings me to what I originally meant to write about (tangents are great). Howard Dean clearly didn’t sit next to his grandfather while watching TV. If you stumble upon him on one of the cable news shows, watch for about a minute and you’ll see what I’m talking about. If they go to a split screen and the other talking head is, well, talking, Dean can’t help but to leave his mouth open. It isn’t exactly gaping wide, but it’s open, and it irritates me. Am I the only one who notices this? And, after years and years on TV, shouldn’t one of his staff have mentioned this to him and have it fixed. It looks like he’s getting rid to suck on a pe, errr, popsicle. He ran for President. Was his image consultant a complete mook? “Keep your mouth closed when you’re not speaking.” That has got to be part of public/media relations 101, right?
No, I’m not interested in election law. June 23, 2008
Posted by wes285 in Uncategorized.Tags: Campaigns, Elections, Politics
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Sam: Nerve scientists have found that when people who describe themselves as politically committed listen to political statements they respond only with the emotional side of their brain. The area of the cortex where reasoning occurs stays quiet.
Josh: So those people screaming at each other on cable really can’t help it.
Sam: And guys like you and me are quantifiably a little nuts.-The West Wing
I got an e-mail last week from the Obama campaign. It thanked me for submitting my resume, but was informing me that there was a new application procedure and that I needed to submit my resume someplace else. Funny thing is, I submitted my resume more than a year ago. One of my mom’s good friends works in TV news and was helping me get interviews on the the Hill and various other places. She knows one of the senior communications staff and got me in contact with him, which led to an interview. Submitting a resume was just part of the formal process. At the time, I was on the fence between working on the Hill and working in a law firm. I ultimately decided that I didn’t love politics enough to do this for a living and took a job at a law firm.
I’m guessing they put all the names and e-mail addresses of people who send in resumes into a database to be tapped at a later time. So mine got swept up with everyone else’s. As I deleted the e-mail, for some reason I was reminded about how differently politicos are wired. They eat, sleep and breath this stuff. It is the reason they live their life.
A couple months ago, one of the campaigns I worked on had a bit of a reunion. It was a statewide gubernatorial campaign where my guy dropped out in the middle of the primary due to a legitimate health reason. I’d say about 20-30 of us showed up at the bar we would often go to to blow off steam during the campaign. There was the typical smalltalk inquiring about how you are, what you’re doing etc. I’m good, I’m at a law firm doing nothing related to politics whatsoever. I’ve kept in pretty good touch with some of the kids closer to my age, so they know what I’ve been doing and my reasoning for doing something else. A few of them I jumped over to another campaign with and still keep in pretty regular touch with. But some of the older senior staff couldn’t believe that I was out of politics. These being the hard grizzled veterans of campaign after campaign. It was as if it was such an illogical decision on my part to step away. I’m planning on going to law school. Oh, so are you interested in election law?
I’ve been told I’m talented. Sure I was better than a lot of the kids that came on to work for free. But, that was just hard work and that’s what you did if you were serious about working in politics. Maybe willingness to bust your ass and do your job well is an indicator of talent in the political world.
There is nothing like campaigning. You won’t find that type of camaraderie in anything else. But, it also isn’t for most people. It got my juices flowing. I was actually excited to get out of bed at 7am in the middle of the summer to canvass or do press calls or whatever. Eventually I got to order other kids around. It was great. Like I’ve said before, I know what it feels like to actually give a damn about something. Something that matters. And, working on campaigns gave me that.
I was told by my last boss that I was meant to do this. It might be one of the biggest compliments I’ve ever gotten. But, after the last campaign I worked on, I wasn’t sure this was for me. We pulled a pretty big upset and it gave me a feeling of accomplishment that I’ve felt maybe twice before. But, I wasn’t sure if I was willing to work insane hours for relative peanuts with absurd job instability with little time for any relationships with people outside the business. But mostly it was because candidates, they disappoint. They almost always do. No politician can possibly live up to the promises and grandiose plans they make. But that’s what wins elections. Not small incremental changes that are actually obtainable.
Ultimately, I wasn’t willing to work in a field where I knew disappointment would be a normal feeling. I’m glad I made that choice. And for me it was the right one.
