Thursday, November 18, 2004

I probably should have bought that nice umbrella I saw at Target.

I live in Burr Ridge. My job is in Chicago. It turns out that’s a distance of 20 miles. That may not seem like that far, but it is when you have to drive it every morning. Through rush hour traffic. And you have to find somewhere to park when you’re there.

So I’ve opted to go mass transit. I take the train every day to work and back.

It has not been a good relationship.

Last night I fell asleep on the ride home. I woke up in an empty passenger car parked on a sidetrack. I had missed my drop by five stops. I was three towns over from where I should have been. I managed to find a conductor and he was nice enough to arrange for the train to make an unscheduled stop on their way back to Chicago.

I was the one solitary passenger in a train of ten cars. It’s enough to make someone feel really important. Or really embarrassed. I went with the latter. They let me off in Hinsdale, and I vowed never to do it again.

Well, it happened again tonight.

This time, I really didn’t want to go and find the conductor so I could explain to him that I managed to sleep through my stop two days in a row. Without thinking, I just walked off the car, stood at the station, and watched the train roll away. Ten cars completely passenger-free.

I was in Downers Grove. My car was in Hinsdale. It turns out that’s a distance of five miles. That may not seem like that far, but it is when you’re walking. At night. In the rain. And you don’t have an umbrella.

I know I could have waited for the next train to Hinsdale, but it wouldn’t come by for another hour. I know I could have called someone to come and pick me up, but I don’t have a cell phone. I know I could have managed to find a pay phone instead, but I don’t know anyone’s numbers by heart except my own home phone, and my parents happen to be in the Philippines for two weeks. So I figured the only way back to my car was by foot.

It took me almost two hours. In retrospect, I should have just waited for the next train.

At least it was an educational experience. I learned quite a few things during my trek:

1. There is no single road or sidewalk that runs parallel to the tracks that go from Downers Grove to Hinsdale. I was zigzagging from road to road trying to stay as close to the tracks as possible so I wouldn’t get lost. Somehow, while following some street, I managed to get seven or so blocks off course before I realized how faint the sounds of trains were.

2. Even in the suburbs, dimly-lit back streets are scary as hell. Every step of the way, I was sure I was going to get mugged. The fact that I was carrying all of my stuff in a lap-top bag didn’t help my nerves much either.

3. Cats will not befriend you for a distance greater than two meters. For some reason, someone’s pet came up and sat beside me during the walk. I talked to it for a bit, but was unable to convince it to accompany me on the rest of my journey.

4. Uncle Francis’ dental office closes sometime before 7pm. His office is right along the train tracks and halfway between where I started and where I was going. All the way there, I was hoping he or Auntie Nona could give me a ride for the rest of the way. I arrived to find the lights out and proceeded to curse to myself.

5. My Sketchers were not designed for walks of any sizeable distance. Almost from the start, my feet started to hurt. I have at least five blisters on my feet. My toes aint quite so pretty no more.

6. Two hours of walking in cold rain is enough to make you delirious. After a while, I started staggering like a drunkard and began talking to myself. The conversation consisted mainly of me telling myself I’m a damned idiot.

After this whole fiasco, I’ve decided to make two changes. For one, I’m bringing a book or something to keep the old brain awake for the thirty minutes train ride. Perhaps I’ll subscribe to Maxim. Secondly, I’m going to have to get a mobile phone. I’ve been standing firm against getting a cell for quite some time now, but I don’t think I can hold out anymore.

I suppose not dying alone on the side of the road is worth the monthly fees.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

23-Skidoo.

By the end of the week, I’ll be twenty-three. That’s a few more times around the sun than I’d prefer.

I’m getting so damned old. I work a nine-to-five job, pay off bills each month, and drive a minivan. All I need now is a wife and two kids, and all signs of youth will be gone. After that, all that’s left in my future is hemorrhoids and an inflamed prostate.

It’s sad when the only thing keeping you young is your ability to urinate in a timely fashion.

If any of you feel like lifting my spirits a bit with a birthday gift, there’s always my wish list. I just wish that Amazon.com offered girls to make out with on their online catalog.

Monday, November 8, 2004

You have no idea how happy my mom is.

I graduated in May. Since then, except for the occasional odd job, I’ve been basically unemployed. That means for the past six months, I’ve been spending most of my time at home sitting on my ass either looking for jobs online or watching reruns of I Love Lucy and Hawaii Five-0.

But it looks as though my days of watching Steve McGarret track down jewel thieves and Communist spies are over.

A few weeks ago, I got a call from Orbitz.com about an interview. A week later they call me back for a second interview. And last week they called to let me know that I need to fill out a W9 tax form.

Ozzyboy got the job.

And just when I was beginning to believe that Monster.com was just a scam.

Today was my first day. Orientation was at 8:15am, which meant I had to be at the train station by 7:25am, which meant I had to be in my car at 7:00am, which meant I had to be awake by 6:00am, which meant I had to be in bed by 10:00pm the night before. Unfortunately, I was feeling a bit nervous and couldn’t fall asleep until 2:00am, which meant I was quite screwed.

I was pretty tired, but I still made it in time for the 8:15 meeting. Orientation turned out to be nothing more than a PowerPoint presentation on company history and corporate strategies. It was just like being back in Principles of Marketing class, minus Ms. Warwick and yet just as boring. All I could do to keep from falling asleep was to drink cup after cup of water. A liter or so of H2O later, and my bladder was in for a little bit of trouble.

I’ve never been one to excuse myself to use the restroom. One time at Jared Brown’s apartment, I waited a good half-hour for him to finish a political discussion with Michael Denslow before I got up the nerve to ask him where his bathroom was. And this is a guy I’m friends with. So I hope you can understand how hard it is for me to ask a complete stranger who has quite some say in my paycheck to pause his presentation, show me where the restroom is, tell me the passcode to get in, and loan me his passcard so I could get back into the offices.

The guy was on slide nineteen when the pressure started mounting, and I figured he was about done, so I opted to wait. By slide forty-four, my kidneys began to hurt. For fear of being on dialysis for the rest of my life, I raised my hand and wobbled out to the restroom.

It was the most painful piss of my life. It felt like urinating hot gravy, giblets and all.

I spent the rest of the day with the design team and got shown the ropes. I share a table with two other girls and sit in a chair that is stolen from someone else’s desk. My main job for the moment is to make these. I get a picture from the photo library, slap on some marketing-provided text, and save for web. I haven’t actually done any yet, but after all, it is my first day.

That’s second day stuff.

Friday, November 5, 2004

Perpetually off.

You probably haven’t noticed, but the content of past few daily pictures really hasn’t been that recent. What you’ve been seeing for the past few days are what I’ve managed to scrape off the bottom of my picture archives. Usually I prefer to post up more current shots, but I’ve been lacking in those after dropping my camera three weeks ago.

I was folding some programs for Alumni Weekend when I knocked my Nikon off the counter and broke off the power switch. Now the thing is as useless to me as a penis is to an 80-year-old man – limp, lifeless, and unable to be turned on.

I just wish I could have waited another twelve hours or so to break it. If my camera had managed to survive through that night, I might have been able to photograph my friend Brian showing his bitterness to the ref during the Alumni basketball game by giving the official the finger, removing all his clothing, and storming off the court in nothing but tighty-whities.

Ah, high school reunions are much more fun when there’s partial nudity involved. Maybe next year we can get Mrs. Newcomb in on the action.

Anyways, I took my camera in to Best Buy a few days ago, and I should have it back in a week or two. Thank God for extended warranties.

So until the repair guys give me a call, enjoy more one-to-three-year-old daily pictures.

Wednesday, November 3, 2004

Balls, slightly boiled.

There’s nothing like rinsing off your genitals while taking a shower when someone downstairs decides to flush the toilet.