The Drunken Blog

I know my mom reads my blog, but I don’t think my grandma does, so I should be OK in writing this. This past weekend (please note, this was originally written back in August) it was my grandfather’s 80th birthday, which means that his children and grandchildren from across the country congregated to celebrate this calculated event. But as with most birthday parties, there was an ulterior motive for their gathering – deciding whether or not my grandmother (who divorced my grandfather years and years ago) and who lives alone, should continue to live alone, or if they should put her in a home.

Apparently cooking steak in a toaster oven isn’t considered normal.
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By all accounts, this weekend should have been awesome. Hell, if I just listed off all of my activities, you would be in awe of how awesome my weekend was, and yet somehow I managed to wet-blanket it. I’m going to blame it on my cold, which in retrospect, seems like a viable excuse, but it still sucks, because I did some awesome stuff this weekend.

On Friday, a journey to find some jumbo slice pizza, or JS as we started to call it (we were saying that we wanted jumbo slice so much that it was actually worthwhile for us to abbreviate it), turned into us making it into a club with a $20 cover for free, just the three of us guys, seeing Tito Ortiz of UFC fame, going to a gentleman’s club, and then, the next day, I went to Atlantic City. Like I said, it sounds like a pretty awesome weekend.

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Saturday was pretty standard as far as graduations go. Both my sister and my cousin, who were born two days apart, graduated, which meant that all of my grandparents got a lot of bang for their buck. One trip down to Virginia Beach and they knocked out the last two high school graduations they will probably every see.

The event was typical in that the grandparents were there and my mom was stressed out over getting everything ready, while I vehemently avoided all work and social interactions with anybody over 47. Look, I used to live with my grandma, the amount that she talked to me while I was staying there should last me a life time.

The graduation was also a pretty standard affair. I found out that my alma mater was apparently a very good school, ranking among the top 3% of all high schools in the country. The valedictorian had a GPA of over 4.64, while the salutatorians (there were two of them with the same GPA) had GPAs of over 4.5. Just so you can get some perspective, Virginia Beach has an adjusted grading scale, where a 93 is a B. In an AP class an A is weighted as a 5 where as in all other classes an A is weighted as a 4. That means that over half of the classes (including classes like PE) the valedictorian took were AP classes, and he of course got straight A’s.

I also found out that just because you have a high GPA, it doesn’t necessarily make you smart, you could just be extremely motivated. This was pointed out by the fact that both salutatorians gave absolutely awful speeches. I had to remind myself that they were only in high school, which makes them as smart as college freshman. The valedictorian, on the other hand, actually gave an excellent speech.

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The time finally came, for the third time in 6 months, I was moving once again. After graduation I had to move out of my apartment, so I moved into my dad’s apartment in DC. It was a pretty sweet location, but it sucked for where I was. Then my dad got rid of that apartment, so I went to live with my grandma in Maryland. That was pretty bad, so now I’m glad to be in my permanent housing in Reston.

I’ve learned that I am a bit of a hoarder, not quite to the extent of an OCD person, but I keep more than I should. And it sucks, because moving that stuff is hard, especially when you have convinced yourself that you need to move the stuff in one trip, whether it be from grandma’s house to the new place, or from the car to the apartment. What can I say, I like to one-trip-it.

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It’s safe to say that I am drunk right now. It’s a Friday night, and I am sad. I went to went to work, and I remembered that there was a company sponsored happy hour, which made me happy. But I was sad because I thought I might miss the happy hour because my boss might make me stay late, but she realized that there was a happy hour and let me go.

So I went to the happy hour and I drank 5 Sam Adam’s Winter Brew’s in an hours time. Feeling like something was going to happen on this magical Friday night, I stopped by the liquor store on my way back to my car. Clearly a good idea.

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Back when I was in college underage drinking was the “hip” thing to do. Not wanting to be called “un-hip” – a title reserved for my grandmother (who is called that because she had her hip removed, not because she’s not cool, even though she isn’t cool) I occasionally partook in the wonderful adventures that alcohol could provide.

I even tried to take this wonderful past time of drinking large volumes of alcoholic beverages home with me during winter break. It should be noted that this story takes place during my sophomore year in college, which means that I was still only 19 and green around the ears. It’s weird coming home from college over breaks. After having so much freedom to do anything that you want to suddenly being back to where you have to tell your parents where you are going at night, and have to secretly plan parties when they are out is a far cry from walking to your neighbor’s dorm and getting wasted on a moment’s notice.

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This Christmas was one to remember. I think I have discovered what makes Christmas more fun now than it was when I was younger. Back in the day, I would eat Christmas dinner and try to leave the table as quickly as possible to go play video games or watch TV or do whatever. But now that I’m older, and can drink, it’s absolutely hilarious to stay at the table because all of the adults get drunk and talk about the goofiest things. The best part is, all of this has been going on for years, but I’m just now realizing that it is happening.

I have at least 5 stories that came from this one day, but lucky for you, I only remember one of them really, so I’ll just exaggerate it until it is amazing as five stories rolled into one.

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The house that I am living in is a very, very old house. Almost 50 years, I wot. And as we all know, old things are not as good as young things. This old house happens not to be very well insulated, which sucks the entire year ’round. In the summer it was too hot all of the time, now in the winter it is too cold.

I found a little secret though - having a massive array of electronics running simultaneously makes a lot of heat. At any given time I will have my laptop, receiver, TV, TiVo, DVD player, Xbox 360, and Nintendo Wii running at once, all in very close proximity. And while they all create heat as a byproduct, one would work as a stand-alone space heater.

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One of the benefits of having an extended family is that often times there will be multiple holiday celebrations. This works out especially well on Christmas, but other holidays have their perks as well. For instance, this year Thanksgiving was pretty sweet. In past years, I had only participated in one Thanksgiving, because it’s hard to get family together in different parts of the state on different days, but this year was different. And, this year involved alcohol.

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I’m not quite sure what to make of this picture. I think it pretty much epitomizes the state of the human race. People are too lazy and too stupid to do anything. I mean, this sign was printed on normal printer paper, but instead of getting a new sheet, they just crossed out the number and wrote in the new one. Apparently, Cal moved and got a new phone number, and he wanted you to know with whom you would be speaking when you called.

I’m kind of torn on whether or not I should call. On the one hand, he’s obviously an idiot and can be easily tricked into giving me a good deal. On the other hand, he is obviously very frugal if he can’t even afford to use a new sheet of plain white paper. The fact that he is holding up the sign with duct tape also shows that he is very resourceful. Personally, I think that this is too much work to be worthwhile, I’ll just look for the next incredibly sweet looking car that I see on the road.

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