How My Favorite Book Ended Up In the Trash Tonight

As many of you know, I like to read. I like to read a lot. In fact, I probably read too much. I have way too many books. I read them so fast that I don’t even remember them half the time or take the time to savor them. But I can’t help it. Ever since I was a little kid, I have read and read and collected books and even attempted to write some of my own. 

So naturally, people often ask me what my favorite book is. Unlike movies, where I have a list of like five million that at any given moment of the day could be coined “my favorite,” I used to actually have an answer for the book question. When I was in high school, a friend of mine was reading Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card. When he tried to tell me about it, it sounded completely boring and uninteresting. Something about little kids fighting off an alien invasion while sprouting a lot of philosophy and getting bullied all the time. And they like to play games at their school, apparently. But my friend INSISTED that I read it because it was going to change my life, it was so good. I was like, “Fine, whatever, I guess,” just so he would shut up and also, you know, never judge a book by it’s cover and all. 

Ender’s Game was the best book I had ever read, and no description or summary or praise could have really prepared me for what I read. Chances are, you’ve heard about it, your friend’s have talked about it, often in hushed whispers and awes of amazement. I won’t get into plot details or anything, but I want to point out that the book spoke to me in a way that nothing ever had before. Above all else, it was simply about what many great books are about: learning to love yourself, regardless of who or what you are, and to not take any shit from anyone. And on top of that, OSC’s writing was phenomenal. The points he expressed, the characters he created, the unthinkable places where he took the plot leave me spellbound to this day. 

Orson Scott Card quickly became my favorite author. Not just one of my favorites; my favorite. The cock of the walk. I read all the sequels and most of the prequels to Ender’s Game, and they were wonderful. I read some of his other books. I planned to read everything the man ever wrote. I was enamored. I planned the Ender’s Game movie in my head and I wanted to write books just as well as him someday. 

Now, I was aware that OSC had a very strict religious and conservative background, which is just fine with me. Even when I disagreed with him on some of his points, he expressed them in such and elegant and un-condecending manner that impressed me. He never made you feel like your point of view was wrong, just that there were other options out there. But his main ideas were always those of inclusiveness, of peace, of love for everyone and, whether you grew up Mormon like Card or discovered you were a socialist through an online test like me, that’s something everyone can agree with and feel good about. 

So it was with great sadness that I once ran across this article online, composed by Card. It is called “The Hypocrites of Homosexuality.” The gist of the article stem’s from Card’s belief that there is no scientific explanation for gay behavior, and that gay activities not only threaten the Christian world (“…one cannot serve two masters,” he writes), but the future of humanity itself. According to Card, when the gay lifestyle is accepted by society at large, less people will have children, and before you know it mankind will cease to exist. Let me know, if anyone cared to read it, if I got any of this wrong. Because I read it several times, trying to see what Card was really getting at, if there was actually some sense to his argument, if he was simply giving another point of view in his usually tactful way. 

But I came away with nothing except what I summarized above. Now, I certainly understand where he is coming from with the religious thing, because it is something I have seen all my life. And by saying I understand, I in no way mean that I agree or even accept his line of reasoning. But I know what he’s talking about. The second part, all that downfall of society stuff, is really too ludicrous to even get upset over. Last time I checked, the straights outweighed the gays by a pretty substantial margin. And the gays have been around as long as humans have, and we’re still here, right? Even if being gay were ever accepted by society at large, thus giving more people the courage to come out and be who they are, I really don’t think not  having enough babies will be an issue. That’s what China is for. 

This article obviously soured me on OSC for a while, but I didn’t really think about it. I resolved that maybe I didn’t need to read all his books, but I would still value the ones that I had read. The themes of Ender’s Game still apply, regardless of who wrote it. But when I tried to read it again, maybe a year ago, I couldn’t do it. I could not separate the man from the art in my mind. How could anyone who wrote an article linking gays to the end of humanity possibly write Ender’s Game? It was still a beautiful book to me and I figured that, with time, I would be able to read it again. I’ve even recommended it to people since then. 

Orson Scott Card has written a new article, published in the Mormon Times. According to Card, the recent passing of gay marriage laws in California and Massachusetts have rendered democracy invalid. People did not want these laws to be passed, and the courts passed them anyway. As such, people who truly believe in marriage should over throw the government, because they are creating an unfit environment to raise children or to foster democracy. Again, paraphrasing Card here. Let me know if I got something wrong. 

I could go through the article line by line and offer a rebuttal, but I won’t and I can’t. It depresses me too much. I think even some of the most hard-core social conservatives would roll their eyes at some of Card’s claims. I mean, here’s an actual line from the article: “How long before married people answer the dictators thus: Regardless of law, marriage has only one definition, and any government that attempts to change it is my mortal enemy. I will act to destroy that government and bring it down, so it can be replaced with a government that will respect and support marriage, and help me raise my children in a society where they will expect to marry in their turn.” I mean, I don’t want to call him crazy because that would put me on somewhat of a level as him, but honestly. Read that again. 

Like I said, I really don’t have to go line by line and explain everything that is faulty with some of his logic. And I’m not even going to touch the part where he starts comparing marriage and property laws because, A) that argument is a little creepy, B) it makes even less sense than some of my tangents (and that’s saying something), and C) I really don’t know what it’s supposed to fucking prove. 

But the reason I brought any of this up in the first place is this: enough is enough. Whatever you think on any of these issues, whatever you believe God wants or society wants or whatever, this is downright hateful. This is a New York Times bestselling author saying this, and no one really brings it up. When congressmen say stuff like this, it’s forgotten with a smile and a shrug. And as much as I hate to compare gay rights to civil rights, which has many similarities and many, many differences, what if he had said this about another race? Or another religion? Why is it only okay when it is about the gays? Here’s a link to a rebuttal that can sum this stuff up better than I can. I just wanted to put my personal two cents in. 

I’m done with Orson Scott Card. I’m done with Ender’s Game. And I’m done giving a pass to people who say stuff like this. Gays aren’t going to destroy society. Attitudes like this are. Whether you are straight, gay, Mormon, Methodist, Jedi, red state, blue state, whatever: we shouldn’t let this go any more. Because we’re all human. I feel stupid that I actually have to type that out, it sounds so trite, but people forget.  

In the meantime, I’m looking for a new favorite book. Any suggestions? And I haven’t proofread this because I want to go to bed.

“The Dark Knight”: 2008’s Indie Darling!

Since it’s the biggest movie ever in the history of the world, everyone is required to have an opinion on The Dark Knight, even if they haven’t seen it. I’m not going to ruin anything here, but you probably should see the movie first just so you can form your own, unbiased opinion.

And your opinion will be that the movie was pretty damn good.

Batman is without a doubt the coolest superhero on the planet, and if you don’t agree with that then you are wrong. What makes him so compelling, to me at least, is the fact that his only super power is his ability to kick ass. He’s not an indestructible alien from another planet. He didn’t get bit by a radioactive whatever. He just has tons and tons of money to blow on awesome equipment, fancy cars, and tailor-made suits. He is also the most emotionally compelling character to come out of comics, at least the most compelling major character. Is his brand of vigilante justice the best corse of action? Is he any better than the villains he fights (notice how they call him THE Batman, just like THE Penguin or THE Joker?). The blurry line between villain and hero will be explored better in next year’s Watchmen (which you should take the time to read NOW) but as of right now, the Batman movies are the best we’ve got.

Now, despite my status as a hip, urban, ultra-cool nerd, I don’t actually read too many comic books, nor do I know just a shit ton about any of it. I know the highlights of most of the stories, but I would be lying to you if I told you I was an expert on the matter. Something about comic books never grabbed me quite as much as video games or movies as a kid. Even Batman, whom I love, I pretty much only know through the movies. And, let’s be honest, the Batman movie are a little hit and miss. The first one is alright. It used to be the best thing ever, but really doesn’t stand up to well to time. Jack Nicholson is still pretty cool though. Batman Returns is decent. Batman Forever is not as bad as everyone says it is. Batman and Robin is even worse than everyone says it is. And then there was Batman Begins, which made everything a) dark, b) realistic, and c) really, really good. As I kinda touched upon in one of those Indiana Jones posts once upon a time, we like our movies grim now, we like them dark, we like them serious. And thus we get The Dark Knight.

Remember when superhero movies like this one were for kids? When there were Happy Meals related to the movie and tons of licensed toys and sleeping bags and cereal and flame throwers and all that stuff? Yeah, I can’t really see that happening with this movie. This isn’t so much Batman Forever, or even Batman Begins as it is something like Heat or Silence of the Lambs (two different movies I understand, but when you see it, you’ll see). The action sequences are pretty much filler this time as you can’t wait to see the next verbal standoff between Batman and Harvey Dent, or Batman and The Joker.

And of course I have to talk about The Joker. Heath Ledger is good. Like, real good. His version of The Joker scares the shit out of you for several reasons. One, it’s Heath Ledger. And not just because he’s dead, which is kinda creepy. It’s because he’s always been a good guy in movies, or at least a likable guy. With Jack Nicholson, you knew that guy was batshit insane and so you really couldn’t take it seriously. Heath never played a character like this before, and he does a very good job with it. Also, they never pin down exactly why he’s crazy. He doesn’t fall into a vat of chemicals. He doesn’t watch his loved one get shot down or something. He’s just…crazy for the hell of it as far as I can tell, which makes him that much creepier. He’s complete chaos. And finally, he’s funny as all hell. And you don’t want to laugh cause he’s doing horrible stuff. The hospital part? Or even the pencil part? Yeah, I laughed. I guess I’m a horrible person.

As I touched on earlier, this movie isn’t so much a superhero action-adventure as it is a crime drama. Hell, Batman is pretty much a supporting character most of the time. And I think this works to the movie’s advantage. I mean, what special effects and stuff are there that we haven’t seen yet? Let’s put all that in the back seat and focus on the story and the characters for a change. But what action scenes there are, they’re pretty fun. Like I said, I don’t want to really ruin anything, but there are a lot of chases. And knife using. And such.

It’s definitely not the best movie ever as some people might make it out to be, but it was certainly the best comic book movie I’ve ever seen and infinitely better then all of the other Batman movies. Yes, even Batman Begins. It goes places I didn’t expect it to go and actually manages to make every character a compelling person. I genuinely cared what happened to all these people and I was on the edge of my seat for most of the run time. It’s not like I have to convince you. You’re going to go see it. Just know that it’s a movie all to itself, unlike any of its kind. And that sets it apart and makes it better. And it’s a damn shame that Heath won’t be back to play The Joker.

And is anyone excited about The X-Files: I Want to Believe (In a Better Movie Title) on Friday? Anyone? Someone? No? It’s okay. I’m sure I won’t be the only looser in the audience seeing it by myself. Maybe I’ll make some new friends!

A Fairly Memorable Weekend Part Three: The Wedding

And now, the conclusion of my epic, three-day recount of one wedding. This one took a while to write and it’s, um, long? I also found that, when I’m doing something in a series, it is really hard to finish the last part. As I said before, I don’t want to leave a lot of details out cause I want to remember them. Also, I clearly have nothing better to do. I have expended more words and more energy on these posts than I have on letters to my family members over the course of my life (not counting graduation thank yous cause those were, like, a lot).

Anyway. I’m going to have to speed through all this really fast, cause there is a lot to tell (I think).

SATURDAY

We wake up, have breakfast, attempt to finish the movie we started last night. There’s electricity in the air and it’s all very exciting. But before the big event, there are some last minute errands to run. We take the dogs, Lily (who once shat on my bed) and Emma (who’s mustache smells like a chum bucket) to the boarding place, or “doggie spa” as my mom calls it. I don’t know if you’ve ever done this before, but it’s incredibly sad. The dogs just assume that you are leaving them forever and I guess it doesn’t help that I kept reminding the dogs that Billy was never coming back. We then head to 7-11 for Big Gulps (I know, I know. I don’t want to leave out details!). The lady at the register asks what we’re doing today and we both just laugh hysterically at her. Poor woman. She probably thinks we were making fun of her accent.

Billy decides he needs a pocket watch so we can all take a ridiculous picture later on of all the groomsmen waiting for a train or something. We head all the way up to Lakeline Mall, get the watch, pick up a few more presents from Dillard’s, and then stop by Thundercloud for lunch. Billy orders his sandwich with onions. On his wedding day. So we get back to his place, eat, watch TV, shower, fellow groomsman Chris comes over, and we all head to Target because I don’t have an undershirt. And then we head for the venue.

The place was called Kindred Oaks and it is out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in that undefined void that is the combination of Round Rock, Georgetown, and Cedar Park. Where do these towns begin? Where do they end? No one knows! Though we drove just a short distance, it really does feel like we are roughing it out in the country now. All eight of us have to get dressed in a room the size of a postage stamp, while the bridesmaids get like a locker room or something equally huge. Seriously. It was sexism on a level that is staggering in this day and age. I managed to stick my hand in the ceiling fan while I was putting on my coat and almost lobbed it off. It would have been the right one this time. My, wouldn’t that be something. I also had to sneak out and put on the neon green American Apparel undies that The Gretch presented me, since I promised her. They felt funny. But quite comfortable and cotton-y.

So we all take a shot of bourbon or whatever the hell it was and get lined up. I’m compressing time here. We sat around for a few hours and just, well, dressed. So we line up. No one payed attention the night before so who the heck knows what we are supposed to do. We run through the show. Mistakes are made. My escort, the maid of honor and Gretchen’s sister, isn’t even out here. But we get it all figured out and take pictures. The photographer was actually a friend of Morgan’s whom I had met several weeks earlier but did not remember now but knew I had seen her somewhere. The other photographer was…married. Sigh. My parents and Morgan show up. I say hi and run back inside. Later, I will be told that I was shaking and Jill thought I was possible doing lines of coke in the back. Well, what can I say? I loves me the ’80s! Oh, and we take the picture of us and our stopwatches. I trust it was funny.

I’ve been typing forever and I feel I’m getting nowhere! We line up again, we walk to the altar, nothing crazy happens, everyone in the audience is amazed by how absolutely beautiful everyone is. We’re all lined up and the big moment was here. Gretchen chose a white dress for the occasion, a little unorthodox I’ll admit, but she was stunning. Stunning! The whole thing sorta happened in a blur. The only thing I really remember was Jamey telling me not to look at him, which I immediately did. Long story short, they got married. And it was very nice. And very short. And I am so incredibly happy for them. But I’ve got to save my typing energy for the after party!

Since the combined total of all the family members plus the bridal party was somewhere in the three figure range, taking pictures took quite a bit of time. In fact I think it was longer than the actual ceremony. We frolicked in a field, we stepped over deer poop, I sneaked out to the bar really fast while everyone was waiting on us so they could eat, etc etc. Finally all the pictures are done, we enter the dining area (they even called out names and everything), and the reception had begun!

The meal was very nice, I have no real idea what it was since I was just shoving everything onto my plate and trying to get to the open bar ASAP, but I remember everything tasting very good and thinking to myself, “Hm, I should really find out what this stuff is!” I was also running all over the place and talking to people in between bites. In retrospect, I probably did resemble a coke head, much more than I did last Halloween. Then came the toasts which were sweet. I’m really glad I didn’t have to make one because A) I wasn’t prepared to make one and B) in light of what happened at lunch the next day I probably would have lost it.

And then the dancing starts. Now, Billy’s family is Peruvian. That means they are from Peru. And they can dance (because the stereotypes say they can). Better than me. I’m partially Slavic. That means I’m white. Morgan, honorary “south of the border”-ite that she is, tries to teach me the dance moves. My whiteness and the cocaine make this impossible. So I’m dancing some half-assed version of whatever dance we are trying to do. I dance with mom and Jill, who make me feel a little better cause, hey, they’re white too! But all the dancing was a blast. I was doing good until the swing music started. Now, the way I dance to swing is just to move around uncontrollably. This, coupled with the alcohol, food, drugs, no sleep, and excitement of it all, made me feel a bit, um, sick. So I had to sit out a few numbers. Mom, Dad, and Jill leave, so now the party can really get started, right? I dedicate “Sexy Back” to The Gretch and it moves everyone out to the dance floor. The DJ was really good. He played “Don’t Stop Believing,” which people don’t so much dance to but scream the words at the top of their lungs. Seriously, has there ever been a song that brings people together in quite the same way? I move to make it our national anthem. That would scare the SHIT out of the terrorists. There’s more dancing, some slow, some fast. Billy’s dad, who has been nothing but incredibly nice to me the entire weekend, is quite impressed with Morgan and I. I’m pretty sure more so Morgan than me, and I’m pretty sure Billy has told him absolutely nothing about me.

Bouquet toss. I have no idea who got it. It landed right in front of Morgan but she just stepped away. Garter throw. Billy’s cousin Hugo gets it. My arm almost gets broken again in the process. There are a few more dances and then, just like that, it’s all over. We send the bride and groom off on their way, not with rice but with bells. Yeah, I was confused to. And people just stood around ringing them like we were third graders or something. But all in all, it was a blast and the second best wedding I’ve ever been to (my aunt Karen’s will always be the best, for many, many reasons).

Panic! I’ve lost my coat! I put it on one of the tables but everyone is cleaning up now and my coat has been removed. Also, just about everyone else has already headed back to the hotel. That thing is going to cost me $300!. The people at the venue are no help at all, so I just assume that maybe someone picked it up and it’s back at the hotel. I change very quickly and head that way.

Rickey, Billy’s cousin, had it all along! So now I can relax and enjoy the after party, which might have been the most fun event of the entire weekend. We start out in someone’s hotel room and there’s like thirty people in there. All drinking. And we’re partying like rock stars. So we obviously get kicked out and sent down to the lobby. But the hotel staff was really nice. They even gave us ice and everything! I’m pretty much unable to drink at this point, as I’m absolutely exhausted and haven’t had anything for hours. But still had a blast. All the friends were there, all the family, pretty much exclusively the under-30 set (the old ones passed out way long ago). It was so much fun, I even made friends with an Aggie and a Sooner! Aggies I can handle, but a Sooner! AND I ACTUALLY WISHED HIM LUCK NEXT SEASON! I WAS CORDIAL! Oy vey. Nice guy though.

So at around two, everyone is starting to drift off, so I say bye to everyone and head back to my apartment to sleep in my bed for the first time in three days. I tell everyone that I have a long drive back, maybe 15-20 minutes. They all laugh, being Houstonites that they are, where the average time of commute is between 40 minutes and sometime next week.

SUNDAY

I’ll make this part short, as it’s just a little coda. Everyone gathers at The Oasis for a final meal before the couple goes off to Vancouver. The Houstonites are quite impressed with the place. They’re all, “you must come here like every weekend. It’s so close! And so cheap!” And I’m all, “Um, no.” The place is nice and all, but, um, no. So we’re drinking, eating, I finally get to talk to Billy’s uncle for a bit (the camera operator).

Everyone starts to leave, which is sad cause I’ve made friends with all these people over the weekend, and we step outside to take a few pictures. Billy, Gretchen, and I take one together. And I turn to them to wish them happiness and “have a good time” and all that stuff and, um, I started crying. Yeah, I know. I’m talking crying, making an ass of myself. I really am so happy for them and glad that I got to be a part of such a great weekend. So there, everyone. I cried. I’m now one of those people that fucking cries at weddings. Now you know what can make me cry: weddings and Friday Night Lights.

THE END…?

So that was my past weekend, in a nutshell. Please, someone else get married! It’s fun! And I promise not to do so much cocaine this time. And congrats again to Billy and Gretchen. You guys are the best!

Keeping Austin Like Texas: So Rent Prices Are Rising But We Can’t Raise Money For “Rent”?

I’m going to take a break with the wedding reporting for a moment to talk about a story I heard about on the radio this morning and then followed up on with an article in the Austin Chronicle. So the Austin Independent School District wants to sponsor a summer musical with students from all the schools in the district participating. The musical Rent is chosen. AISD backs out, saying that the play “would not be well recieved in some campus communities,” to quote the article. In other words: it’s about gays and AIDS and the district is not going to fund that.

Are you fucking serious? In Austin? I could see this happening in Gatesville, but not here. If they would have just come out and said, all things considering, that Rent is pretty fucking terrible to begin with and we’re not going to sponsor a pretty fucking terrible musical, then that’s fine (yes, I do have a soft spot for Rent, but come on. It’s pretty fucking terrible). And it’s not like the objectionable material was bad language or anything since that had been cut out of this production (which is another discussion for another time).

But despite that, the principal of McCallum High School offered his services, the cast raised the money on their own, and the show is taking place this weekend without the support of AISD. So congrats to them! I mean, I’m not going to go see it or anything. The only thing worse than Rent would be Rent performed by high schoolers! But I applaud them for sticking to their guns and not taking any of the district’s shit. What they really should do is ditch Rent and stage a full-on production of Angels in America. That’s right, all six hours of it! All six blasphemous, gay, AIDS-y hours of it! I mean, your funding is independent now. Why not really stick it to them?

And to the AISD: way to go. This embarrasses me as a citizen of the city that I thought was different from the rest of the state. I realize that the whole AIDS subject might be a little touchy to you as every time I see your acronym, AISD, I do indeed think of Rent, but this really is uncalled for. This is stupidity on a level I never thought possible here and I’ve seen some pretty stupid things done in this city. There’s not really much I can add. And to the superintendent, the Gatesville Independent School District has an opening. But you know what? Might be a bit too liberal for you, since even our friggin church choir sang “Seasons of Love.” Granted, they probably didn’t know it was about AISD…I’m sorry, AIDS, but whatev.

Here’s a link to the production’s page. You don’t have to go to the show or anything (I’ve seen it too many times), but just think about it. And that is all. More wedding deets later.

A Fairly Memorable Weekend Part Two: The Rehearsal Dinner

For full enjoyment of the following post, please scroll down to the previous entry and read, since this is sort of the sequel. Also, I realized that most people probably don’t want to read multiple posts on a wedding they did not know about or attend. But this is mostly for me, since this blog is pretty much my diary, so the details of the weekend won’t entirely slip away. You have to admit, though. It is entertaining, right?

So brief summary: Thursday was the bachelor party. That should catch you up.

FRIDAY

My eyes pop open at 7:30ish and I know immediately that I will not be feeling my best today. In fact, I might actually be sick. There’s a guy in a suit stepping over the bodies that litter the living room floor. Apparently Eric’s boyfriend was there all night as we yelled and ate all his food. So he probably hates us because he’s leaving for work and is stepping over bodies like the plague hit and he’s a UNICEF worker. But I can’t think about that right now because I am contemplating backing out of the wedding. There’s no way I’m going to be good to go by Saturday, or ever again for that matter.

I try to drift off to sleep again but it hurts too much. My insides want to be on the outside. But I don’t throw up because I rarely ever throw up. It probably would have helped. But I think maybe I should because Billy did it when we got him back last night and he looked like he was enjoying it. So I stumble to the bathroom and try but I can’t because puking scares me too much and I will do anything to avoid it. So I dress, put my glasses on (no contacts today, that’s for damn sure), place a hat on my greasy ass head, kinda sort of brush my teeth (cause the toothpaste is making me sick), and head back to the living room. Just about everyone is up now, minus the groom. Everyone has a dazed look on their face, none of us quite sure what had happened the night before or where the hell we even were. My guess was somewhere in Texas but I wasn’t 100% on that.

But we have to get Billy up cause we have to get to his parents house and then back to Austin to get ready for the rehearsal dinner. We are making no progress, so we open windows, play music in his ear, slap him, beat him with inflatable hammers, and so on. Eventually he shows signs of life so we load up the car, kinda clean up the apartment, and leave. I am now the driver. Billy can’t do it. Kevin offers but, if you’ve ever driven with Kevin you will know that his driving can be, um, not conducive to serious hangovers. So it’s me in the driver’s seat, which actually helped. As long as I could focus on something other than the symphony of death in my head, I was going to be relatively fine.

We’re following Ronnie, who is one of those drivers that doesn’t like to indicate and enjoys changing lanes at the last possible second and cutting off several cars. I have no frame of reference in Houston, having driven through it only once and I stayed on the major highways that time, so I’m scrambling to get around. We stop for donuts (where I think we ordered one of everything), Billy gets in the car with his brother, they speed off before I can even get the car on, and I’m like “crap.” I think they take a left so I go that way. Wrong. I’m lost. Long story short (too late) Billy’s phone was in the car, we call his brother, take extra time trying to find them at an outlet mall, and eventually make it to his parent’s house in kinda one piece. I meet several members of his family not looking my best, including his uncle who is a camera operator for Michael Mann and works on the show Dexter! And I so want to talk to him but I’m afraid I’ll sick all over him (to steal the British phrase).

So we eat some donuts, take some Tylenol, and head off to Austin. The drive seems to take FOR FREAKING EVER. We again pass the donut/seafood restaurant. The death of my intestines is now imminent. But everyone is in surprisingly high spirits for being so sick. I want to kiss the Austin city limits sign when we get there. It’s funny how just amazingly happy I get when I return to the city, even if I’m just gone for the day. I’m sure other Austinites can back me up on this.

Drop off at Billy’s. Meet Gretchen’s parents. I promise them I will look better by tomorrow. Now I have to fly home, hope that my pipe hasn’t burst again, take a quick shower, dress, and head back to Billy’s to get to the rehearsal dinner in Round Rock. I debate about what to wear (as I am want to do sometimes) but I decide to go dressier to make up for my appearance in the face and my feeling in the bowels. Get to Billy’s, help them load up the car with all sorts of crap for the dinner, say hi to The Gretch before she heads out, and Billy and I leave. We have to make several stops and errands before we actually get there but we do.

Okay, trying to speed this up now since I am taking WAY too long. I’ve been to a few rehearsal dinners before (this ain’t my first rodeo after all) and this was way different than any I had been to. I was sicker than a kid who has eaten 72 Pop Tarts while jumping on a trampoline and swimming (I’m trying to be creative with my comparisons here). Also, the rehearsal was not at the venue but at the hotel. Also, everyone started drinking before we even got started so by the time it came to actually rehearse, no one was paying attention. I even had a beer cause, you know, I’m bat shit insane. So we get through that, eat Rudy’s (great, love thinking about work! How about we go to an Express game and then Hoveround race back home, huh?), watch the slide show, toast, and all that stuff. Billy’s dad made one of the best toasts I’ve ever heard as he forgot people’s names and where they were from or why we were even there in the first place. The families are both great, they are being super nice to me cause apparently my reputation as the funniest and most charming guy ever has proceeded me and Billy and Gretchen talk about me and most have seen the Facebook pictures. I felt that I was a disappointment cause, lets face it, I wasn’t feeling too charming. I was so freaking sick the entire night it wasn’t even funny. But they were all the greatest people, made me feel like I was part of their family, and I actually want to hang out with them all again soon. For groomsman presents, Billy presents us each with a little speech and a pocket watch with our last named engraved on the cover. That’s a pretty sweet present, and it has already merited a coveted spot on my memento shelf along with the card and my receipt for donuts since thats the only thing I had left to remind me of the bachelor party.

So they all want to party at the hotel. I’m staying with Billy that night so I ask him what he wants to do. We both agree to forego the revelry and just sleep cause, you know, tomorrow is kinda important for him. And we feel as though the T-Virus from Resident Evil has hit the hotel and we’re going to turn into sickly zombies at any moment. Also, I don’t have a hotel room since I, besides B and G, am the only one from this freaking town. And there’s no way I’m sleeping on a floor tonight. So we say the goodbyes, some of which took longer than others, and headed back to the apartment. And in a reversion to the four years we spent living together, Billy and I ate leftovers from the fridge, put on a movie, and nearly passed out on the couch. He eventually made it to the bed with the dogs and I slept on the air mattress that was my bed away from bed during Flood Storm ‘08. And I think we got a decent amount of sleep.

That was Friday. Coming up next, naturally, is Saturday. Highlights include, um, the wedding? And I’ll probably throw in Sunday’s denouement in the next post as well, since four posts would be WAY too much space devoted to this. You won’t believe the shocking surprise ending!

A Fairly Memorable Weekend Part One: The Bachelor Party

This is going to be long, so fair warning. In fact, I’ve decided as I’m typing this that I’m going to split this one up into several posts. So I don’t know why I’m still typing this disclaimer. Why are you still reading?

This Saturday, two of my best friends, Billy and Gretchen Garretsen, got hitched in a ceremony/weekend for the ages. The days leading up to the event were memorable as well. Here are the last four days as best as I can remember them. These memories are culled from a week with little sleep, WAY too much alcohol, and uncontrollable giddiness. Is that how you spell giddiness?

THURSDAY

Got my tux first thing in the morning. I was worried that the pants were going to be too big, and they were a bit loose for my liking. Or maybe I’m just saying that cause I didn’t want to fit into them. But whatever. While trying it on, I figured out pretty quickly that when the time came on Saturday to wear these outdoors in 500+ degree weather, I would be sweating balls. But more on that later. The vest, however, did not fit so I was vindicated in some small way. A new one was ordered, and I was off to Billy’s. The bachelor party was tonight in Houston. I was kept out of the loop as to what exactly was going on since my name did not make it on the email list (I know, fuck you, right?) but having seen the pictures of The Gretch’s bachelorette party from the weekend before I knew several stops would have to be pulled to match it.

So we leave. It’s Billy, Kevin, Justin, and myself heading down to Houston. Car trip was fine. This iPod was not working properly so I was forced to serenade everyone with Lisa Loeb’s 90s classic “Stay.” Passed a seafood/donut restaurant, the combo of which instantly made me sick. Houston is far. And big. We left at 2 something and didn’t make it to our destination until about 6ish. Eric, another member of the groomsman posse, was our host for the evening. We stayed at his absolutely posh pad in downtown Houston. So we get there in the nick of freaking time cause everyone is already showing up. I put down my stuff and we all had a drink.

And so it began.

Now Billy’s (and Gretchen’s) plan was to spend a quiet evening at home chilling and playing video games. Fuck that. We started out at Dave and Busters because everyone wanted to eat and drink and have an excuse to horse around. We get there and order a round of Jagerbombs, which set the tone for the evening. To make a long story short, we managed to drink a lot at a friggin arcade of all places, and made asses of ourselves playing Daytona and some sort of something where you jump a virtual rope. I have no idea either, BUT I was the only one to do it perfect and get the jackpot so I’m good for something right? So at the end of several hours we had accumulated somewhere in the neighborhood of five billion tickets. Enough that Billy was able to buy video games. With the rest of the tickets, we bought yo-yos and inflatable hammers. Which we proceeded to beat Billy senseless with out in the parking lot. Basically, we reverted to nine year olds for the evening. The entourage is rolling something like 12 deep now. All the groomsmen are there, some of Billy’s cousins, and multiple friends. The groom party, for later reference, included Billy’s brother Ronnie (who everyone should meet at least once in their life), Eric (with the apartment), Jamie (hell of a nice kid; suffers from pre-mature balding), Chris (another childhood chum of Billy’s), cousins Hugo and Ricky (Hugo was dressed quite nicely, Ricky…meh), and myself (dressed and acting like a retard as is my style). For those counting at home, thats seven which is an awfully big bridal party. And a HELL of a payday for Al’s Formal Wear.

It’s time to hit up the strip club. This is a bachelor party, right? I don’t know how much I’m really allowed to say about this part of the evening since a certain someone might possibly be reading, but everyone was well behaved including the strippers. Some quick observations/concerns. First, Houston is expensive. Strip clubs are expensive. This was a strip club in Houston. I think my bank account died at some point during the evening (but not as much as other peoples! Ha ha, joke’s on them! It wasn’t even my scene!). Second, they lined us up and made sure we all had closed shoes and collared shirts cause, you know, it’s a classy establishment and not a sleezy-ass strip club or anything. Third, strip club DJs are compete douches but he did call Billy Ben Stiller at some point and Ronnie Gomer Pyle so I guess he kinda made up for it? Fourth, I was drunk. Like, terribly so. So I really don’t know how much more I can add to this portion of the evening except fun was had and more Jagerbombs (I think) were consumed. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it ; )

We all make it back to Eric’s place and he cooks omelets and I didn’t get one cause I’m too slow so its a bag of Doritos for me. Billy is stone-cold passed out on the floor. We literally had to drag him from the car. We take off his pants and pose for compromising pictures and then haul his ass to the bed. People drift off to sleep cause some of these poor bastards have to WORK in the morning. Some of us stay up, me cause I’m simply too sick to go to bed. Eventually we all do, cause we have to wake up and 8 and it’s 4. Oh dear. And I didn’t fit on the couch, but there was no way I was sleeping on the air mattress with Justin.

All in all, I think we contended quite admirably with The Gretch’s party. We all stayed safe, had a blast, and were sicker than the sickest hip-hop beats in the morning (how’s that for an analogy?). In the next installment, we get to Friday. Highlights include getting lost in Houston, the Battan Death Drive back to Austin, the rehearsal dinner/alcohol nightmare, and Billy’s last night as a human being. You won’t believe how he spent it!

How I felt in the morning…

Age Ain’t Nothing But a Number…Unless That Number Is Really, Really Big

It’s been a while since I had a really good rant, or even an opinion on anything for that matter, but the subject of age has come up so many times recently that I have to say something about it, if only to figure out my own thoughts on the matter. This is the way that I write these rambly posts, in case you hadn’t figured it out: I start with an idea that I don’t think I have a stance on, yell, ramble, bore anyone reading, and come out on the other side more confused than when I started.

But I’m pretty sure I have this one figured out, and here are my thoughts on aging (from a 24 year old, mind you): get over it.

I’ve come to the conclusion that age is all in your head and that if you feel old then it’s your own damn fault. We, and by “we” I mean recent college graduates, are stuck in a sort of social limbo, just like every college graduate before us. We’re not full fledged adults but we are starting to get a sense of just how stressful “adult” life can be. We’re not kids anymore, and everyday that passes we leave that simpler (for most of us) life further and further behind. I pay all my own bills now, I have to fix my car, I commute to work, blah blah blah. It’s easy to get discouraged, especially with the big 2-5 looming around the corner.

The truth is, though, I don’t think I have ever felt younger, and I’m being completely serious. I can do pretty much whatever I want to do now and am completely responsible for my own actions, and if that’s not liberating I don’t know what is. I am surrounded by people at work older than me who constantly remind me just how much of a kid I still am and how THIS is the age to be. I still go out when I want to, I sleep/don’t sleep just as much or as little as I always did, and actually have a little bit of cash to do those things. Yes, my metabolism might slow down soon and I really should buy some goddamned land, but that’s all external if that makes sense. It’s all how you feel inside.

I was talking to someone the other night who wanted to go back to high school. Really? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure it sucked. Yes, it would be fun to go back with what you know now and see how it would turn out, but I would get sick of it. Same thing with college. Don’t get hung up on them. You’ve graduated. Move on. And it was fun, but it can’t possibly be as fun as you remembered. So live in the now. If you live in the past, and harp on and on about how you are not a kid anymore. of course you are going to feel old cause you were younger then!

The age you are now, whatever it is, is the best age to be. Because, really, it’s all up to you how young you want to act and feel.

Another factor that has been, um, factoring into to the recent age talk are weddings. So many people I know are married, getting married, thinking about getting married, etc. Now, I am not getting married anytime soon. Nor am I in a committed relationship. So I realize that my views on this might be skewed. And to be honest, having no attachments probably contributes to my unabashed youthful feeling. But it seems to me that marriage should in no way be considered “giving up,” as so many people do. You find someone you’re having fun with and you have fun with them for the rest of your life. And if you’re not having fun and you’re feeling old then, seriously, why bother? I completely realize that this is an immature and youthful attitude to have on the subject but it just makes no sense to me. Ugh, Now I’ve confused myself. Time to back out of this rant.

Moral of the story today: have fun. Age is all in your head and once you get around that, you are no longer “old.”

And so, speaking of childhood and nostalgia and how dwelling on the past is dangerous and contributes to our feeling old, remember the band from Showbiz Pizza? Not like this you don’t!

I also feel a post about nostalgia coming on. I have research to do.

Just Like the City: For Your Consideration in the Category of Best Lead Actor in a Comedy Series

On this week’s episode of Just Like the City, I attended physical therapy for the first time. At the moment, I am scheduled to go twice a week for four weeks, which is a lot if you are counting at home. And I was a little nervous going in the first time, not gonna lie. I mean, I have already been doing some stretches at home and they really, really hurt. What would these hippie dungeon-master therapists do to me?

To my surprise, they were exceedingly nice and helpful, something I had not been used to when dealing with medical professionals during this little ordeal. On my first day, I had this guy who wanted to talk to me about video games for the entire time which is a conversation I can totally hang with for an extended period of time. He put my hand in this machine that is filled with sand and heats up and I just move my hand around, sort of like it’s water. Why they don’t just use water I don’t know, but moving your hand around in hot sand is actually pretty cool. Ten minutes in that thing and I felt like I could move anything with my hand. Until I actually try to move something. And it hurts. So my training regimen consists of stretches, hot sand, putty, moving a hammer back and forth, and wall pushups. They are attempting to get my range of motion back to normal before starting in on strength training, which my arm needs because it has withered away and the hand has like no muscles in it. He also told me that my arm is going to get stiff when it’s cold and that I’ll be able to tell when rain is within thirty miles. So cut to me, seventy years old, sitting on my porch in a rocking chair, sipping on iced tea, and being all “rain’s coming!” It’s going to happen. I’m going to be that guy. 

Day two, I saw the other therapist. She put me back in the sand machine which I think I broke because I got sand everywhere. It was like I was at the beach. And she actually massaged my hand which was heavenly. She kept bringing up how her partner wanted to learn more about video editing, and of course I’m all, “That’s what I do! It’s easy.” So now I think she wants to bring her in so I can talk to her while doing my hand stretches. Whatev. As long as my hand is in sand and/or the therapist is massaging it I’ll talk about anything you want. The good news: she told me that my wrist is healing phenomenally and that I might not have to go for the full four weeks. Which would be nice, cause it’s expensive. 

The wrist really doesn’t hurt all that much. When I wake up its a little stiff (as things tend to be in the morning). But after moving it around a bit I hardly notice it. I don’t even really need the arm brace anymore but I choose to wear it out because A) it’s trendy (like a Power Glove!) and, B) it gets me A LOT of attention (like the individual Morgan and I met at the fireworks stand in Kyle. On, Firecraker…). 

And thus Arm Storm ‘08 is coming along nicely. As is Flood Storm ‘08. I’m back in my apartment right now. I have new carpet and you’d never know that anything happened here or that the place was completely tored up last week. I was pretty sure I would need a FEMA trailer for a few months, but now I’m planning another trip to IKEA! Yay! Once again, thank you to Billy and Gretchen and Heather and Justin for helping me out with not being homeless. I feel I need to pay them back in some way, but let’s be honest. Just a few minutes in my presence is reward enough, right? Right? 

Just kidding. Also, I want to say that everyone I called DID call back eventually and in my previous post I was in no way criticizing them for not answering immediately. The point of my story was to point out the absurdity of calling everyone at six in the morning while my sister slept in the car and drugged out hookers approached me in the alleyway. So thanks to everyone for calling and sorry I woke yall up. 

I’d also like to point out that I LOVE three day weekends. Yesterday was the 4th, which we celebrated by going down to Auditorium Shores to watch the fireworks. Austin is such a pretty city and it looks that much cooler when the sky is on fire. When the aliens attack I’m going down to Town Lake cause it’s going to look hella cool down there (yeah, I used hella). Afterwords, we headed to Morgan and Ashley’s and attempted to burn down their house. Good times. 

Busy week ahead! The Wedding of the Century is on Saturday and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be epic. And I would like to do some Photoshop for this post but I can think of no movie poster that goes along with this week’s theme. And I’m lazy.