Every Thug Needs a Lady

I had a date this weekend. It was not a bad date, but my heart was not into the event. I was tired and upset- I had lost power the night before at a storm. Well, not me, but my apartment and place of work did, and I was looking at the prospect of living with my parents for a few days. So as I type this, I am sitting in a coffee shop a block and a half from my parents' in Brooklyn. I wish I could find a place like this in Westchester (although I could deal without the singing infants, but thankfully, I have headphones).
I saw Alkaline Trio on Friday, and while I really enjoyed seeing them, the show was just, well, pretty average. Do not get me wrong, I loved seeing this band finally- I have been listening to them for years, but the venue was nothing special. Also, with a band like Trio, with their ten albums worth of material, then they are no doubt not going to play everyone's favorite songs. They hit some of mine, but I really wished they had hit a few more. Oh well.
The low point of the evening was when this woman, obviously intoxicated, was flirting with me. I was not going to do anything untoward with her, but I would have liked to have gotten her number before her friend whisked her away. A yoga instructor. Who lived in Westchester. Who seemed impressed with my job.
Gotta move faster Alex, gotta move faster.
I did manage to see Cursive, finally, and damn, I do not know why I stopped listening to them. These guys kicked so much ass. Tim, the lead singer, just, well, gave himself over to the show, and it really looked like he left it all out there on stage. Good for him.
So back to the date on Sunday. A jDate, of course- although my first one in four months. She picked the place, and it was a nice lunch. Recovering from a cold and trying to figure out my plans for the next day in the back of my mind, my effort was misaligned. That being said, we did not click well. She was smart, valued education and helping people, and had great taste in movies and television shows. Oh, and she was absolutely beautiful.
So why did it not work?
Maybe because my mind was somewhere else, or maybe because we just did not have that spark. Perhaps it was because the date was on her home turf- someplace she was familiar with and comfortable, setting me on edge. It could be that I was just intimidated by her, which has been known to happen.
Is this dating? I do not know. I spent my teenage years without dating because I was an awkward and immature teenager. In college, no one really dated- people just got together. Now, I have to learn how to date while also trying to meet people. It certainly is an adventure, as my log of awkward dates continues to grow (and only a small percent are awkward because of something I do).
Makes me really wish I got that woman's number.

Victory Gin

My friend's wife murdered their daughter. There's no way around it- this is something that happened and has shaped the past two weeks of my life and will change everything going forward. I am putting it out there, not because I want to bring you down, but because it's something tragic that happened, that I was close to, that is affecting how I am feeling.

I have been making mistakes at work recently. I hate it, not because they are mistakes but because they are items I shouldn't be missing. I have no one to blame but myself, but I need to learn how to just accept them and move on. I love my job, I love my career, but I cannot let these things dominate my life.
My dad says, work to live, not live to work. I thought I was lucky, that I had found a place where my life and work could meld in a joyous way. While this has happened, I wouldn't call it joyous. The friend I mentioned, is also my coworker; his daughter a student.
Two of the people that reached out to me after the tragedy were Magic players. These are people who I share a game with, but reached out, not for advice on the game, but to console me. My life and work, they are inseparable, for now.
I feel, sometimes, that I never really get away. I live where I work- I have a phone that I carry with me all the time. I am constantly tethered to my desk. I finally got away, and went home for a few days and it was glorious.

I sat in traffic, anxious about missing the show. Drew told me I would have to get there early to make sure I got a spot in the loft. The commute had other ideas. Somehow, after the wrong turns and red lights (with a little help from Dad), I made it to the venue and promptly whiskey myself inside. I was person number seven.
The bands all kicked ass. The place was packed. I could not believe how much fun I had, and how I longed for such an event in Westchester. When one band laid into NoFX's "Linoleum" I launched myself into the pit, and barely left for the Menzingers set.
Let me tell you- I was a mess. Tank top and jeans, my Reeboks a dungy shade of gray from the bottoms of shoes and spilled beer. Coated in a layer of my sweat, a layer of sweat from everyone else, plus a fine mist of beer shower. The place was a whirling dervish of joy, and I long to feel that again.

I walked around my old haunt on Saturday, just happy to be able to walk around town. I went to a bar and had a delicious beer, and finally heard good music on the juke. The Ramones sang to me before the siren song of the Dillinger Four made me long to return. After a night out with my sister, I drove home on Sunday.

And now? Now I search everywhere nearby for something with character. I'm from Brooklyn, dammit, and everything here lacks soul. I want a coffee shop, not a Starbucks. I want to know that this bar plays Johnny Cash and that one plays the Ramones- I don't want them all to play Dave Matthews.
New York might be unique, but please, there must be people here that do not want the same old cookie cutter life, over and over.
I miss the city- I long for the smell of exhaust and the bustle of streets. I can't walk anywhere up here.

My life- it's not bad. I just miss my home town. Thankfully, it's only an hour away.

I hate making mistake. I'm a fucking perfectionist about certain things in life, like my job. I have made a bunch of mistakes recently- none that will get me canned or anything, but things that add up. Most are relatively minor and easily corrected- a few have been bigger, and more difficult to correct. I have gotten better at not taking these things personally, but still, I really despise fucking up.
For years, I have partially defined myself by what I do. In college, I was a student and a techie. For a brief time I was able to be a person, social, and get out there. Then I was a grad student and worker, and now I'm a professional. When I make a mistake, sometimes I feel like it cuts to the core. This also happens in my Magic writing, but I have gotten better about letting that stuff slide off my back.
I guess part of this stems from how fucking hard it is to define yourself in this day an age. Yes, identity is as fleeting as it is firm- you are only what you claim to be if you put forth the effort. I have a lot of experience trying to define myself for dating websites and job applications, but what do I say?
I'm Jewish?
I'm passionate?
I listen to punk rock?
I'm fucking awesome?
That's part of the reason I have this blog- to try and figure out what I am. I am a self proclaimed nerd, but even that doesn't say everything about me. In this world where we're all just trying to find a connection, I think we a re best defined by our roles in our relationships with others. This is one of the reasons why I miss living in Brooklyn- it was easy for me to go out and find the comfort zones of identity. Here, I have to brave new ground and do it all over again. It's fin, but tiring. After a day of work, I don't always have the energy to go out to the bar and be a social person. I made it out today and had a Heineken Light, at the behest and suggestion of my sister (a smart one).
Thursdays are not the best days at my local watering hole, especially to meet people.

Friday night was unremarkable. Like so many others, I was working, although this time my stomach was rather upset. I had to sneak off to the secret bathroom in the Castle a few times to make use of the hidden toilet-no lights in this place- like a scene from a bad Jason movie.
Anyway, it is a night like so many others- watching the clock, counting down the minutes until I get to go home.
And then my Junior year roommate walks in.
I had not spoken to this man in nearly five years- we parted on less than amicable terms. We were both arrogant kids at the time, only he had a girlfriend and would frequently fight with her loudly and with consequences. He once put his head into my wall, leaving a dent. I was no prince either, being rather loud about my distaste for him.
It was like the odd couple, only with two short people angry at each other.
So he's there, and we have the awkward hello. I can only imagine what's going through his head, since he's there as a guest of a first year student.
I don't see him the rest of the night, but find a facebook message from him today. None of this sits right with me. I mean, I am all for making amends, but that's not what irks me.
I think I'm jealous of the man.
I work at a place where the people I come into contact with the most, the students, are off limits socially (as they should be- I am not complaining about this at all). But not to him...someone my own age. He's free to date whomever he pleases. That rubs me the wrong way a little.
But at the same time, what scares me is I know the developmental cycle for most traditional aged college students, and, well, it feels just off. 25 and 18 does not seem like such a huge difference, but one person is just starting college, and the other has been out for nearly three years.
I dunno; maybe it's just jealously.

Wake me when you learn to be cool

I got my hands on the new Motion City Soundtrack album, and it made me fall in love with being a nerd. Again.
No, that's not quite right. Rather, I feel like their music describes how I view myself when I talk about being a nerd. The character they craft for their music is one who lacks confidence at times, but is wholly engaged with the subculture he/she inhabits. Someone trying to improve their individual self, while not shirking uniqueness yet trying fitting into the world at large.
I signed up for jDate again, but have such mixed feelings about the entire process. I mean, in the past year most of my dates have come from this site, and I like to think I have learned a lot, but I cannot get over this nagging feeling that sites like these are actively bad for the world. I mean, I am all for meeting that special someone, but have we really created a world where the best way to do that is online? Also, chatting via instant message is annoying when people get up to do something and neglect to tell you, so sometimes you're just chatting and saying a bunch while they're off in the bathroom, and come back to your frantic wall of text, trying to keep them interested in your boring life.
I mean, there are positive attributes. You actually get to talk to the person before meeting them in the flesh to see if you mesh well, and you do not have to attract someone across a crowded bar (although I am a dashing fellow).
But something is missing. I am not entirely sure what it is since my one relationship ever started when a woman walked up to me and we started discussing who was a bigger nerd.
More than anything else, though, the site breaks down the lives of people into words, and that is just so difficult. I have read so many profiles about women who love to travel, and I wonder: what does that really mean? Do you want to see other parts of the world or is there just nothing going on for you right now?
Who knows.

I love google

When you Google ridiculous, this pops up



You're welcome

Seattle's keeping me in tune, part 14

In the final round of IPA, Matt Tabak's deck dismantles me and I drop the match in two games.
Draft Record: 5-1
Constructed Record: 4-4
Overall record: 9-5.

Pretty good weekend. Let's see if we win, since Bubba managed to win sweep the multiplier event.

Later dudes,