Thursday Curling

Not a lot to say today...but I felt like writing something.

It is fucking cold here…like ridiculously cold. This Saturday is supposed to see a high of – 1 degrees!! A high of – 1 degrees!! That’s absurd. This California kid is seriously missing his beach, his ocean, and his on-going 74 and sunny. I want to know who the first non-native American person was to settle Minneapolis. What the hell were they thinking? They actually stopped…got off their horses...looked around, and were like, “yeah...looks nice!” Clearly they did not arrive in January.

Got a little bit loaded last night. Had a crew of work colleagues in town from Austin, TX. So a few of us took them to Chino Latino for dinner and some cocktails. I should say that they had dinner...I had cocktails. It was a relatively good time I guess. I have come to the realization that I don’t always relate well to my immediate peer group. While most of them are great people, they’re all in such different places in their lives (married w/ kids). Sometimes it’s hard to talk to each other for extended periods because we have little common ground beyond work. The problem is I get bored talking about work all the time. So I don’t know where that leaves us. The one amusing part of the evening was I did get completely eye-fucked by...well...I guess we’ll call her a cougar. Probably in her early 40’s...big fake tits and bleached blonde hair…pretty attractive…sitting at a table across from us getting hit on by a bunch of douche bag, recently divorced, big-swinging dick wannabees. She kept glancing over and staring at me (I counted 6 times), which is pretty strong. I’m kind of oblivious to these things, so I didn’t think much of it at first but by the 4th or 5th time I was like ok...I think I’m officially being eye fucked. She was probably looking for someone to save her from the douche bag posse...which I wasn’t really in a position, nor did I really have the inclination to do. My boy George however was all over it...or at least he wanted to be. I tried to talk to him into making a run at it, but he was for whatever reason “not feeling his game”. I have come to recognize that as an old man’s metaphor for “I no longer have any”.

Anyway...my two cents for the day. I’m now leaving the office to go curling with my co-workers. Yes, that’s right…I did say curling. Yes, it is as fucking weird as it sounds. Yes, I have often wondered why the fuck I ever left southern California.

BD