Slutocracy

I was trying to type the word "slut" into my phone today, but the T9 thought I meant "plutocracy". My phone thinks I'm far more refined than I am.

Don't Buy Iraqi Dinars

I had another event-filled weekend. This one started Saturday morning with the first sailing race of the season. We finished second of the six boats in our section and fourth of the thirteen in our fleet. Also, I didn't do anything stupid, so it was a good race. I think I might be better at this than I previously assumed, as I was commended for good sail trim and communication while a couple other guys who have been doing this for a couple years were making foolish mistakes. I've still got a lot to learn though.

After the race I headed over to Palermo's for Twinkie's graduation party. The open bar provided some much needed social lubricant and things turned out to be pretty fun. Twinkie announced she'll be working as the vault coordinator for Harry Winston's Chicago location, a job she was pretty much born to do. It turns out that it's still sometimes awkward to be friends with both Toners and Twinkie. Since that group hasn't really kept in touch with Toners, they were asking about what he was up to. I told them about his plan to move in with Otter and talked a little bit about her as well. She was somewhat dismissed with the requisite "yellow fever" jokes and things moved on. It was surprising to hear. It happened in almost the exact same way Carroll guys dismiss Twinkie, but it still somewhat shocked me and suddenly I was playing defense. The whole thing is made even more poignant by the fact that I was defending Twinkie to Otter only a week before. In the end, it was nice to see everyone, but it also became apparent that these people that I used to be good friends with have become merely acquaintances.

Sunday morning I drove down to Toners' lake house in Bloomington. I suppose a consequence of our man-dating is that I now have man-in-laws (That term doesn't work like I want it to, buy you get the idea.). It was a very relaxing weekend filled with boat rides, Cuba libres, cigars, music, and tons of delicious food. While sitting on the dock with P-dawg, he nicely expressed his appreciation for having me as a part of the family. I graciously agreed and said I felt as comfortable there as I did at home, but then he said he hoped it was even more so. I keep getting the feeling that he has very little respect for my parents and that he's supportive because he thinks I get no support at home. I don't like the way he plays this game and I find him to be inappropriately presumptuous. Sometimes I think he's far too used to be right and just assumes he's right all the time. I know all parents (and all people) have some flaws. My parents are humble enough to admit that of themselves; I don't know if P-dawg is.

This whole mess gets way more fun across generations. Toners does the same thing his dad does in some cases: spout bullshit. I don't really mind it when Toners does it and I often call him out on it. He's not nearly as much of a lawyer as his dad is, but something has definitely rubbed off. Far more interesting is the relationship between Grandpa Bob (Toners' mom's father; P-dawg's father-in-law) and P-dawg. From what I gathered in listening to Bob for thirty minutes, he's an arrogant asshole in love with his money. I admit I might be wrong, but that's at least the personality he wears on his sleeve. Funny enough, P-dawg doesn't buy the bullshit that Bob spouts anymore than I buy Toners'. After Bob and P-dawg volley back and forth with underhanded insults, P-dawg starts to tell his story of being an Iraqi millionaire. As he explains, he bought several million Iraqi dinars for about $5000 US with the presumption that when the US installs a stable government, the exchange value of the dinar will shoot up and be worth far more than $5000 US. At worst, he's out $5000. Any degree of research on the internet will reveal that the dinar is not an internationally regulated and traded currency and as such does not have a dynamic value. The value is currently set at 1197 dinar per US dollar and this is unlikely to change anytime soon. The only way to get the currency is through black market exchange as international banks will not trade unregulated currency. Typical black market rates charge up to a 30% mark up, so it's possible that his $5000 US instantly turned into $3500 the day he bought the currency. It is unlikely that the currency will significantly deflate anytime soon. Even with an established government, Iraq's economy will stay be based on oil. They have no significant industrial development that would allow them to export anything else. Thus, their international economy will go through very little change even with a massive regime overhaul. If a legitimate regulated economy is installed in Iraq, it is much more likely that the currency will undergo dollarization and P-dawg will have to buy back his American money at a loss.

Wiggleston and Jenny McCarthy

Friday and Saturday were full of extremes for me. Everywhere I went, I felt like family and I felt like a stranger. I felt supported and condemned. Excited and depressed. Among friends and alone.

I spent Friday prepping the house for the next day. I mowed the lawn, cleaned up the house, and unloaded the rented tables and chairs while Toners and co. were at his recognition ceremony. Upon their return, we all prepped egg casserole for the next morning. It was a simple task, but it occurred to me that it seemed like something my family is incapable of. We seldom seem able to work together without somebody/everybody getting pissed off. I wish that weren't the case. Teamwork prevailed again the next morning for the final clean up and set up. Again, I was amazed.

We went out to dinner Friday evening with everybody and their families. I've always found it very fun to see the families that people come from. I was particularly interested to meet Otter's family, but I ended up not talking to them very much, or any other "adults" for that matter. (On that note, I have no idea when I'll begin to think of myself as an adult. Probably not until I'm at least 30.) I was assumed to be Toners' brother by two other people. This was a fair assumption since I was there with Toners' family and Toners and I have very similar mannerisms. Still, it annoyed me on a couple of accounts. It made me feel like an ancillary character in the whole event, which was harsh considering that I knew how things could have been that weekend had I not fucked everything up for the past two years. The second problem I had with this mistaken identity was that last semester I had given my student ID to my brother to get him into a football game while I had taken Toners. The usher immediately knew the face on the card wasn't me. I don't get it.

That night, I went out to Finnie's with Yardbird, his brother, and Carita. To be honest, I didn't have much fun. There were surprisingly few people there that I knew and I guess I just wasn't in the mood. We went to Nick's Patio later and met up with Katherine and Bethany (fellow chemical engineers). I was glad to see them one last time. We aren't more than casual friends, but they are among few of my classmates that I don't feel judged by.

The next day was the big brunch. We had a bunch of friends, families, food, booze, and a clown named Wiggleston. The whole thing was rather ridiculous, in a very good way. We got our faces painted, Tay-tay got drunk and flirted with the clown , and everybody seemed to have a good time. At some point, Toners and I were talking to Yardbird's brother who expressed that his family and all sympathized when they heard I had left school and were all very happy to hear I'd be returning. To that, Tony responded that his dad (P-dawg) had told him that he "better not pull that shit." This was somewhat harsh to hear, especially considering how P-dawg had made a point of being supportive and extending a hand if I needed it. It makes me wonder what everyone really thinks of me. In the end, I don't know why I even care.

I gave Toners an autographed copy of Jenny McCarthy's Surfin' Safari for his graduation. Jenny happened to be a TA in his preschool class. I even had a little speech about her being the alpha and omega of his Catholic education. I'm pretty proud of myself for that find.

Later that evening I went to Aitch's apartment for the BP family party. Seeing the girls with their parents pretty much made my night. A particular highlight was watching Aitch and her dad walk by with the same gait and Aitch struggling to keep up with the longer-limbed man as she yelled directions to the airport. Seeing the resemblance between Bruges and her mother was also very entertaining. Not only do they look alike and sound alike, but they move their hands in the same ways when they speak, laugh at themselves in the same way, and even complain in the same way. As much fun as it was, it was also the most awkward part of the weekend. Dads talked to dads and moms talked to moms about their daughters' pasts and futures and I didn't really fit in to any of it. I was particularly uncomfortable talking to Colleen's parents. Everything started out fine, but as we talked they realized I was the "O'Malley" their daughter had talked about. Suddenly I was being told that I had been having too much fun at school and that I really had to focus when I went back. I've had people supportively tell me to keep my head on straight and stay focused, but this seemed like an all out condemnation. They were being awfully audacious and it really put me off. Once again, I don't know why I care. On a more amusing related note, just about everyone there knew me as O'Malley. I would introduce myself to parents by my first name and make small talk for a few minutes before they realized I was O'Malley and then suddenly I'd find out that they'd heard all about me. It was very strange. Finally I said my goodbyes and left. My last hugs to Aitch and Bruges were some of the hardest I've made.

Reggae Capital, USA

My extended weekend went pretty much as I expected it to. Radiohead was fantastic and completely worth the hassle of getting up before dawn to drive the three hundred miles back to Chicago. The subsequent Wrigley experience was among the most ridiculous things I've been involved in. It was hardly necessary that there was a baseball game being played; give us some bleachers and a beer vendor and we'll have a good time anywhere. After the game, we all went to the Wild Hare and Singing Armadillo Frog Sanctuary. I ran up an $80 tab (on top of the $75 I spent at Wrigley) buying the whole group (and the men's room attendant) drinks. When I'm drunk, I apparently believe that m income is ten times what it actually is. Deuces made $20 dancing with a couple of sexagenarians, though unfortunately he didn't break out the famed "pick up change" move. I spent over an hour in the men's room chatting it up with the aforementioned attendant. Recently, I've noticed myself turning into my dad. I could never figure out how he could meet some random guy and know his whole life story in a matter of half an hour, yet on a couple of occasions, I've done the exact same thing. After we'd had enough fun, we headed back to the south side to get our cars and drive to South Bend, where upon arrival I ignored my phone and promptly fell asleep.

Bittersweet

My schedule for the weekend:

5/14 6:30am - Start work
5/14 10:30am - Leave work/road trip to St. Louis
5/14 3:30pm - Arrive in St. Louis
5/14 7:00pm - Radiohead concert with Major
5/14 11:00pm - Leave St. Louis
5/15 4:00am - Arrive in Chicago
5/15 10:00am - Get in line for bleachers for the Cubs game
5/15 1:20pm - First pitch
5/15 6:00pm - Leave for South Bend
5/15 9:00pm - Arrive in South Bend
5/16 --------- ??????
5/17 9:00am - Brunch with Toners, Otter, other friends, and their parents
5/17 3:00pm - Barbecue with Aitch, Bruges, other friends, and their parents
5/17 9:00pm - Leave South Bend for Chicago
5/17 10:00pm - Arrive in Chicago
5/18 2:00pm - Notre Dame's 163rd Commencement; I should be there, not here.

The Verve - Bittersweet Symphony

Talk Derby To Me or: Otter Bares All

What a weekend. Kudos to Louisville for having a day dedicated to cute girls in cute hats. I put just under 800 miles on my car in about 48 hours. I love road trips, though I wish I had better copilots. Bruges was with me on the way down to Louisville, so that's a big plus. She ranks high among a small group of people with which I could drive across the country and be happy with the whole time. It was a great drive. We made the full 270 miles in just over five hours, including stops for food and booze. I learned that the Thunderbird tops out 116mph before the the rev-limiter kicks in, which is good to know. Unfortunately, I left my sunglasses on the roof of the T-bird when we stopped for gas in South Bend. Fortunately, when we stopped for gas outside of Indianapolis, I found them stuck in the spoiler. This was after hitting 116mph on US31. It was the first of several Derby miracles.

The weather when we arrived at the campsite was pretty dismal, which resulted in about 30 of us all huddled under a 10 ft. x 10 ft. rain canopy. It turned out to be pretty fun, with everyone boozing and getting to know each other. I only knew five of the people in our group at the beginning of it all, but everyone made friends fast. Finally the wind took down our canopy and we retreated to the car to smoke cigars and sip Woodford. It wasn't quite camping, but it wasn't that far off either.

Derby Day started with the same dismal weather as the night before, with cold rain and a thoroughly gray sky. However, as we got our tailgating on outside of Papa John's Cardinal Stadium, a sliver of blue appeared and slowly spread across the entire sky. It turned out to be a beautiful day. There were hundreds of Notre Dame seniors around and I ran into dozens that I knew. The highlight of the tailgating was our own miniature derby in the parking lot. It was done in teams of two, a "horse" and a "jockey". The jockey had to shotgun a beer and jump on the horse, who then ran about a hundred feet down and back, and then the horse shotgunned a beer at the finish. Oh college.

The race itself paled in comparison to the tailgating. I had mint juleps and lost fifty bucks with no regret. It was fun, but there were fewer people I knew and less room for us to get into trouble. At some point, I made a bet with Aitch which I only vaguely remember. The evidence is in a note I left myself in my phone which reads "Aitch Cookie Monster 10 dollars 60 days". I seem to recall it had something to do with her finding a cookie monster t-shirt and I was giving her 60 days to do it. I wish I could figure it out. On the bright side, she can't figure it out either, so I'm looking to come into some money.

The good weather continued that night and we all went back to the campsite and sat around a fire. As I lay on the grass, I couldn't help but wish that I had someone there with me. Others were around, but no one was with me and it seemed I was the only one to appreciate it as others scrambled to get their food and alcohol in order.

The next day we drove back to South Bend and the Derby trip came to a close. To celebrate, I accidentally walked in on Otter naked. She wasn't changing, just standing around naked in Toners' room. It was surprisingly not that awkward (at least in my opinion, she may disagree). Slightly more awkward was the dinner we went out to soon afterward. I don't know if it was just me being so tired, but I felt somewhat annoyed the whole time. It seemed like there wasn't much of a conversation. One girl we were out with in particular got on my nerves and I think Otter may have felt the same. Everthing she did just seemed childish. On the other hand, I randomly began singing "Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah", so I can't really claim to be an adult.

For the conclusion of this seemingly endless weekend, I met with Aitch for tea and hummus. We were both still wiped out from the drive and the partying, but it was nice to relax with her. I think I'm going to miss her more than anyone else after this school thing is all done. It could be because I think she's going to go on and do grand things in a new life that's starting imminently, and it will be harder to stay close. Or it could be because I still can't seem to shake the crush I have on her. It's probably a little of both.

The Hold Steady - Chips Ahoy!

Allan Sherman - Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah!

Tenacity

A couple of weeks ago I went on Craigslist with the intent of posting an ad saying I was available to crew for a sailboat this summer. There are occasionally sailboat owners who want to do more sailing or compete in a few smaller races, but would like another deckhand. I figured I had an outside shot at finding someone like that. When I got on the site, I did a cursory search and found an ad put up by MORF saying they were looking for anyone interested in sailing so they could fill out the crews on some of their boats. I immediately replied and hoped for the best, but didn't have too much expectation. They are a lot of people on Lake Michigan who are much better sailors than me. I sail about as well as a 16 year-old drives a car. I can make it go, but I don't really have much skill. I really want to get to the point where sailing becomes as natural to me as driving is now.

To my surprise, I received an email from MORF telling me that I've been assigned to Tenacity. On top of this, I learned that the owners of this boat are also the top dogs at MORF, so I'm more than a little intimidated. I hope they don't expect me to be more skilled than I actually am. Also of interesting note: at least three of the sailors (including one of the captains/owners) work at Fermilab. I never thought I'd meet a bunch of high-level physicists in a sailboat. This whole thing is going to be very interesting.

I'm leaving work in an hour to drive to South Bend, then to Louisville for the Kentucky Derby. I lead an exciting life sometimes. It surprises me.

Styx - Come Sail Away