Unless they make alot of money.
I'm a big time Yankee fan. I know they stink this year, and chances are they will not make the playoffs, but every night when I get home from work I turn on the game. There are a million and one other people like me out there. The same million and one that couldn't afford tickets to the all-star game this past Tuesday in the BX.
I pass "The Cathedral" every single day whether it's by car or subway on my way to work. It sickens me that a faithful like myself couldn't grab a seat to this experience. I was willing to sit in the bleacher seats, but those tickets were starting at $500!!! The nosebleeds clocking in at $650. I didn't even bother looking at the other sections.
Oh sure, I had the opportunity to catch the Taco Bell Celebrity Softball game on Sunday, but who the hell wants to see an E! correspondent, or a hack like Billy Crystal play slow pitch? Or better yet, watch Chris Rock strike out three times (affectionately called The Golden Sombrero). Who strikes out in slow pitch softball?
***while trying to find video of Rock's epic fail on YouTube, I came across this. Country music vixxxen, Carrie Underwood in short shorts and Eric Ferrer's crackhead socks playing in a celebrity softball game somewhere down South***
Enjoy...
continuing...
I would have even caught the home run derby, and catch reformed basehead Josh Hamilton crush the shit out of the ball, but to no avail tickets were still too much for my pocketbook.
It's an argument that comes up every year during the Super Bowl and I can see why tickets should be more expensive to cover costs, security, and every other phantom expense there is out there. The fact the corporate douches, silicone saints, and trust fund kids fill the stadiums at these big events really get on my nerves. This commercial that's been running as of late explains it all (pardon the bad quality, it's the only one on YouTube) ...
Real fans go to games winning record or not, stay up late to watch the game that starts at 10PM (feeling me on this east coasters?), and sneak the game on radio when they're at work. We are the ones that support the game and our team the most. What do we get as a reward? The bragging rights to say that it was in our hometown.
Hoo-fuckin-ray.
Oh there is a shot of me going to an all-star game before I die. It just have to wait AT LEAST 31 years. Here's what I mean...
The previous time the all star game was held in NY was in 1977. That was the same year that the Seattle Mariners, and the Toronto Blue Jays were born. Those two cities had to get their shot to host an all star game. Let's not forget the Marlins, the Rockies, the Rays, and the Diamondbacks. So in 31 years, six teams were born. I don't count D.C. because they're originally the Montreal Expos.
Chances are there are going to be couple more teams born due to expansion within the next 31 years, so that will delay the mid-summer classic coming back to NY.
I better start taking that heart medicine.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I gots me a tattoo.
It's all downhill from here...
After many different concepts, drafts, and a tragic accident, I got my first tattoo on 4/20 (dude...). I've been wanting to get one for a while now. I didn't want to get one of the stereotypical douchbag tattoos that are out there; barbed wire, tribal bands, Japanese kanji, Cap'n Crunch. I needed this to be different.
My first tattoo was going to be based on a character that was a part of a card game like Pokemon, or Magic the Gathering if you will. Sounds lame, but hold on. The game had a pimping/drug dealing theme. The character's name was "Super Ochenta," Spanish for Super Eighty. Don't know what that's supposed to mean, but I thought it was a cool piece of art...
Super Ochenta
I felt this guy was like a very cool homage to the Latin culture; a big ass cigar, the dope Panama hat, the fly beard, and it kinda-sorta-maybe-possibly looked like me. I was really feeling this.
I was going to get it done April of 2007 in exchange for designing a website for an amazing artist I met through my brother and his roommate. Monica Henk was going to be the one to bless my arm with it. Unfortunately, while riding her motorcycle to school, some heartless bastard struck her with his/her SUV, shooting her over 100 feet, and drove away. She died on impact, but was resuscitated at the scene by EMTs, and taken to the hospital. She died five days later. The killer is still out there.
Getting a tattoo after that didn't feel right, so I sat on it for months. Near the end of 2007, I was feeling that the time was right to get a tattoo done, but I didn't want to get Super Ochenta. I felt that Monica was the one that was supposed to do it, so I decided to get something else. This time around, it was going to be completely original. I wanted a portrait of myself, but with a twist. It's a portrait of me, but as a skull. For weeks, I was thinking about what elements of my personality I wanted in this piece. I decided to have a goatee, a cigar, and of course a 504 Style Kangol.
I can't draw to save my life, so I went to my artist friends to make a few designs. Nothing really caught my eye, until a young girl by the name of Alorah came up with a few dope designs for me...
The one on the top left corner was what I picked, so I was on my way to getting it done. The only pesky detail was finding an awesome tattoo artist. I was researching a few spots in the NY, but I couldn't find the right place. That's where my bro came in. When the new year arrived, my brother visited True Blue Tattoo in Queens, NY. That was one of the shops Monica worked at. He got to talking to a few of the artists, and hit it off real well with Hillary. She ended up doing a few of his tattoos. He had nothing but rave reviews about her, so I decided to get my arm done the same day he went to get a touch up on a tattoo of his.
After Scotty got his touch up done, it was my turn. I gave her the sketch, and she wanted to modify it so the skull looked more realistic. I gave her the green light to make any changes needed to make it as dope as possible. A half hour later, she finished her sketch. The skull did look more realistic, got rid of the cigar ("It looks like a joint"), and changed the look of the Kangol to give it some depth. I was down, and gave here my right arm to do her thing. Two hours later, I was blessed with this...
Minutes after she was done
Obligatory douche pic showing off the tattoo. All that was missing was a Jagerbomb in one hand, and a chick that I'd could never score in the other.
Needless to say, I was blown away by her work. It was everything that I wanted and then some. I show it off to anybody who wants to look (hell, even if they don't). It's been two months since I got it, and it's looking great. I've already got the itch for a second one. I'm hoping to have it done by the end of Summer.
If you're near the NYC area, and looking to get a tattoo, please check out True Blue Tattoo, and definitely ask for Hillary.
Hillary is the shit. You tell her I said that.
After many different concepts, drafts, and a tragic accident, I got my first tattoo on 4/20 (dude...). I've been wanting to get one for a while now. I didn't want to get one of the stereotypical douchbag tattoos that are out there; barbed wire, tribal bands, Japanese kanji, Cap'n Crunch. I needed this to be different.
My first tattoo was going to be based on a character that was a part of a card game like Pokemon, or Magic the Gathering if you will. Sounds lame, but hold on. The game had a pimping/drug dealing theme. The character's name was "Super Ochenta," Spanish for Super Eighty. Don't know what that's supposed to mean, but I thought it was a cool piece of art...
Super Ochenta
I felt this guy was like a very cool homage to the Latin culture; a big ass cigar, the dope Panama hat, the fly beard, and it kinda-sorta-maybe-possibly looked like me. I was really feeling this.
I was going to get it done April of 2007 in exchange for designing a website for an amazing artist I met through my brother and his roommate. Monica Henk was going to be the one to bless my arm with it. Unfortunately, while riding her motorcycle to school, some heartless bastard struck her with his/her SUV, shooting her over 100 feet, and drove away. She died on impact, but was resuscitated at the scene by EMTs, and taken to the hospital. She died five days later. The killer is still out there.
Getting a tattoo after that didn't feel right, so I sat on it for months. Near the end of 2007, I was feeling that the time was right to get a tattoo done, but I didn't want to get Super Ochenta. I felt that Monica was the one that was supposed to do it, so I decided to get something else. This time around, it was going to be completely original. I wanted a portrait of myself, but with a twist. It's a portrait of me, but as a skull. For weeks, I was thinking about what elements of my personality I wanted in this piece. I decided to have a goatee, a cigar, and of course a 504 Style Kangol.
I can't draw to save my life, so I went to my artist friends to make a few designs. Nothing really caught my eye, until a young girl by the name of Alorah came up with a few dope designs for me...
The one on the top left corner was what I picked, so I was on my way to getting it done. The only pesky detail was finding an awesome tattoo artist. I was researching a few spots in the NY, but I couldn't find the right place. That's where my bro came in. When the new year arrived, my brother visited True Blue Tattoo in Queens, NY. That was one of the shops Monica worked at. He got to talking to a few of the artists, and hit it off real well with Hillary. She ended up doing a few of his tattoos. He had nothing but rave reviews about her, so I decided to get my arm done the same day he went to get a touch up on a tattoo of his.
After Scotty got his touch up done, it was my turn. I gave her the sketch, and she wanted to modify it so the skull looked more realistic. I gave her the green light to make any changes needed to make it as dope as possible. A half hour later, she finished her sketch. The skull did look more realistic, got rid of the cigar ("It looks like a joint"), and changed the look of the Kangol to give it some depth. I was down, and gave here my right arm to do her thing. Two hours later, I was blessed with this...
Minutes after she was done
Obligatory douche pic showing off the tattoo. All that was missing was a Jagerbomb in one hand, and a chick that I'd could never score in the other.
Needless to say, I was blown away by her work. It was everything that I wanted and then some. I show it off to anybody who wants to look (hell, even if they don't). It's been two months since I got it, and it's looking great. I've already got the itch for a second one. I'm hoping to have it done by the end of Summer.
If you're near the NYC area, and looking to get a tattoo, please check out True Blue Tattoo, and definitely ask for Hillary.
Hillary is the shit. You tell her I said that.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
A very shallow post.
It's been a while. I know.
Okay, let's preface this post with the following info. I'm a fat dude. Always have been. If you were to look into my medical records, you would see a check mark in the box labeled "Obese" I'm not proud of it, but it is what is. I've never claimed to be a model, because I'm a realist. Even though this is the case, I have a question...
Why are people trying to hook me up with their fat chick friends?
I know it's a harsh thing to say, it's shallow, and piggish (don't know if the pun was intended or not), but this is becoming a trend in my life as of late. I don't see myself as a good looking dude (I'm not fishing for compliments or pity, I know what I see in the mirror), but in the world of gorditos, apparently I'm a solid 8½.
I have no problems with bigger women (that kinda has a "some of my friends are black" tone to it, I know). I've dated girls of all shapes and sizes, so that's not the issue. I actually prefer a girl with a little meat on her. I don't like boney chicks at all. That "you can see her ribs" look is a little off-putting. I just wouldn't like the fact if she were to borrow a shirt of mine, that it fit a little snug on her.
I thought I had something going with a cinnamon skinned babe last summer, but that blew up when I realized that she was using me to get with my brother (weight wasn't the issue, because my bro is a hefty gentleman himself). Excuse me for a moment...
Hey, stupid...that's why he doesn't text you back.
Okay, as I was saying. That kinda put me in a funk for a bit, and I wasn't really looking for anything serious. I was on a seven month dry-spell, so I'm guessing people think that I'm on the prowl. Not so much. When it was known that I went a recently went on a couple of date, it was presumed "open season" on E.J. (believe me when I say that I'm not at all serious about that statement. I find the whole situation to be quite silly.)
Due to time constraints, I'm going to give you three examples at this time:
1) There is a Japanese restaurant that I've mentioned a few times on this blog where me and my Brooklyn friends visit. If you go a few posts back, you'll see I've been referred to as rapper Big Punisher at the establishment. Well, there is girl working there who happens to be on the heavy side that's interested in me. Now, I have no problem with her being a chubby gal, I'm just not interested. Apparently the running gag over there when I'm not around is (now imagine this in a very thick Japanese accent) "Big Punisher...plus Big Mama...happy family!!" So now when I go, and she happens to be the hostess, there is this uncomfortable cloud over the table when I'm ordering yakiniku and butakimchee. When she leaves, I get the eye-brow raising, "ah?...ah?" facial expression from the crew.
2) My old high school friends have been trying to hook me up with this annoying ass chick that was a year ahead of me. I was blindsided by this one. She did one of those friend requests on my Myspace profile (more on that abomination of a site on a future post), so I was sure whatever, I knew her from when I was dating her cousin in high school. No big deal, right? Out of nowhere she messages me, and is like, "can I get your number, I want to talk to you...blah blah blah." For those who know me, I did E.J.'s famous head tilt...
...and had the "Nah, chill" thought run through my head. I ignored it, and moved on. Just last week, she messages me with the subject, "How much do you love me?" I opened it up, and said that she's coming up from Alabama in October and she wants "kick it." She wanted to know if I can pick her up FROM THE AIRPORT IN NEWARK, NEW FUCKING JERSEY!! She said she'll make it worth my while. Oh hah-hell no! She asked me to hit her back with the good news. My idea of good news was to never get back to her, kick her off my list, and block her from ever seeing my page again. Now I'm the asshole. Well, I am on this occasion. Some of my "friends" are upset, but hell...they led her on or something.
And finally for today...
3) My dear old mother wanted me to meet a belly dance classmate of hers (it's a midlife crisis thing, I dunno). She was from Turkey and was leaving later in the year. Well, I met this gal and she was a biggin' as well.
"What hell, ma? You're in belly dance classes and you couldn't try to pimp your son to somebody else?"
"Aye por favor, Eloy...I was trying to do you and her a favor."
(Cue head tilt)
I don't know what she meant by that one. Was she looking for me throw a tré up in that piece? Does anybody remember that phrase from the 90's?
Now, I've done some events for her and her class; playing music, setting up sound, etc., and there were some great looking girls there. One was flirting with me a little, and I was down for whatever but she broke out before the event was over. I was asking my sweet mommy why she didn't introduce me to her?!
"She's a bitch, and kinda stupid."
"Well, that ass of hers looked pretty intelligent to me."
"*EDITED OUT* is really nice, and she has a great personality!"
Once again, the nice personality. Well, I did end up talking to the Turkish chick for a little while, and could you believe we had absolutely nothing in common? I like hip hop, comedies, the UFC, and she tended her flock of sheep back home. I'm being a ball buster of course, but you get the idea. "Girl, we just from two different worlds..." (sorry, inside joke)
Without being an ass, I'm really trying to figure out why this has been happening lately and questioning the thinking process of my loved ones. First of all, I HATE people trying to hook me up. And second...c'mon...am I going to connect with a gal because we both have the not so flattering ability to take over the armrest on the airplane? Are we gonna trade recipes together...or perhaps hold hands at the Weight Watcher's meeting? I got it!! It's because we both think that Cinnabon rules!
I've come to a conclusion that they are the shallow ones, figuring that they can only see me settling down with a gal of common girth. How could Eloysito be with any other type of person? (See how I turned it around on them? I'm proud of myself for that one). Most of friends and family know my track record, and not to brag, it's not too shabby.
After all...I have a great personality.
Okay, let's preface this post with the following info. I'm a fat dude. Always have been. If you were to look into my medical records, you would see a check mark in the box labeled "Obese" I'm not proud of it, but it is what is. I've never claimed to be a model, because I'm a realist. Even though this is the case, I have a question...
Why are people trying to hook me up with their fat chick friends?
I know it's a harsh thing to say, it's shallow, and piggish (don't know if the pun was intended or not), but this is becoming a trend in my life as of late. I don't see myself as a good looking dude (I'm not fishing for compliments or pity, I know what I see in the mirror), but in the world of gorditos, apparently I'm a solid 8½.
I have no problems with bigger women (that kinda has a "some of my friends are black" tone to it, I know). I've dated girls of all shapes and sizes, so that's not the issue. I actually prefer a girl with a little meat on her. I don't like boney chicks at all. That "you can see her ribs" look is a little off-putting. I just wouldn't like the fact if she were to borrow a shirt of mine, that it fit a little snug on her.
I thought I had something going with a cinnamon skinned babe last summer, but that blew up when I realized that she was using me to get with my brother (weight wasn't the issue, because my bro is a hefty gentleman himself). Excuse me for a moment...
Hey, stupid...that's why he doesn't text you back.
Okay, as I was saying. That kinda put me in a funk for a bit, and I wasn't really looking for anything serious. I was on a seven month dry-spell, so I'm guessing people think that I'm on the prowl. Not so much. When it was known that I went a recently went on a couple of date, it was presumed "open season" on E.J. (believe me when I say that I'm not at all serious about that statement. I find the whole situation to be quite silly.)
Due to time constraints, I'm going to give you three examples at this time:
1) There is a Japanese restaurant that I've mentioned a few times on this blog where me and my Brooklyn friends visit. If you go a few posts back, you'll see I've been referred to as rapper Big Punisher at the establishment. Well, there is girl working there who happens to be on the heavy side that's interested in me. Now, I have no problem with her being a chubby gal, I'm just not interested. Apparently the running gag over there when I'm not around is (now imagine this in a very thick Japanese accent) "Big Punisher...plus Big Mama...happy family!!" So now when I go, and she happens to be the hostess, there is this uncomfortable cloud over the table when I'm ordering yakiniku and butakimchee. When she leaves, I get the eye-brow raising, "ah?...ah?" facial expression from the crew.
2) My old high school friends have been trying to hook me up with this annoying ass chick that was a year ahead of me. I was blindsided by this one. She did one of those friend requests on my Myspace profile (more on that abomination of a site on a future post), so I was sure whatever, I knew her from when I was dating her cousin in high school. No big deal, right? Out of nowhere she messages me, and is like, "can I get your number, I want to talk to you...blah blah blah." For those who know me, I did E.J.'s famous head tilt...
...and had the "Nah, chill" thought run through my head. I ignored it, and moved on. Just last week, she messages me with the subject, "How much do you love me?" I opened it up, and said that she's coming up from Alabama in October and she wants "kick it." She wanted to know if I can pick her up FROM THE AIRPORT IN NEWARK, NEW FUCKING JERSEY!! She said she'll make it worth my while. Oh hah-hell no! She asked me to hit her back with the good news. My idea of good news was to never get back to her, kick her off my list, and block her from ever seeing my page again. Now I'm the asshole. Well, I am on this occasion. Some of my "friends" are upset, but hell...they led her on or something.
And finally for today...
3) My dear old mother wanted me to meet a belly dance classmate of hers (it's a midlife crisis thing, I dunno). She was from Turkey and was leaving later in the year. Well, I met this gal and she was a biggin' as well.
"What hell, ma? You're in belly dance classes and you couldn't try to pimp your son to somebody else?"
"Aye por favor, Eloy...I was trying to do you and her a favor."
(Cue head tilt)
I don't know what she meant by that one. Was she looking for me throw a tré up in that piece? Does anybody remember that phrase from the 90's?
Now, I've done some events for her and her class; playing music, setting up sound, etc., and there were some great looking girls there. One was flirting with me a little, and I was down for whatever but she broke out before the event was over. I was asking my sweet mommy why she didn't introduce me to her?!
"She's a bitch, and kinda stupid."
"Well, that ass of hers looked pretty intelligent to me."
"*EDITED OUT* is really nice, and she has a great personality!"
Once again, the nice personality. Well, I did end up talking to the Turkish chick for a little while, and could you believe we had absolutely nothing in common? I like hip hop, comedies, the UFC, and she tended her flock of sheep back home. I'm being a ball buster of course, but you get the idea. "Girl, we just from two different worlds..." (sorry, inside joke)
Without being an ass, I'm really trying to figure out why this has been happening lately and questioning the thinking process of my loved ones. First of all, I HATE people trying to hook me up. And second...c'mon...am I going to connect with a gal because we both have the not so flattering ability to take over the armrest on the airplane? Are we gonna trade recipes together...or perhaps hold hands at the Weight Watcher's meeting? I got it!! It's because we both think that Cinnabon rules!
I've come to a conclusion that they are the shallow ones, figuring that they can only see me settling down with a gal of common girth. How could Eloysito be with any other type of person? (See how I turned it around on them? I'm proud of myself for that one). Most of friends and family know my track record, and not to brag, it's not too shabby.
After all...I have a great personality.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Moving on...
There are times when you know that you've overstayed your welcome and realize that it's time to look toward the future. Risks have to be taken in order to improve and grow as a person. I know that the time for me has come.
From this this day on, I'm no longer affiliated with Darkside Entertainment. I've been involved with it for almost ten years, and learned alot. I started selling tickets to help my boy out, which led to starting the website, creating fliers, handling promotions, and other tasks. It gave me a greater passion for music and led me to become a DJ.
When different philosophies are involved, it can lead to counter-production, and even worse, animosity. I'm leaving before the latter sets in. I have no ill-wills, nor am I upset with anybody, because in the end it's all about partying and having a good time, no? I would hope that the same could be said about me in the minds of the Darkside crew.
Please continue to support Darkside by going to their events, because they are ONE OF THE TOP promotions around. The events they throw are amazing.
Leaving Darkside doesn't mean that I'm going to stop promoting. Actually, I'm going to give this a shot on my own along with a couple of my peoples. Truthfully, I've got nothing planned, nor have an idea of what I'm going to do...yet. You'll be the first to know when I have something going down.
I want thank everybody that I've met and showed love at the boat rides, and other Darkside affiliated events. Hopefully you'll stay along for the ride, and see what I'll be doing in the future. If not, it's all good, and I understand.
Big ups to Canela, Big Bear, DJ Classic, and the rest of the crew that's rolled with Darkside through the years.
From this this day on, I'm no longer affiliated with Darkside Entertainment. I've been involved with it for almost ten years, and learned alot. I started selling tickets to help my boy out, which led to starting the website, creating fliers, handling promotions, and other tasks. It gave me a greater passion for music and led me to become a DJ.
When different philosophies are involved, it can lead to counter-production, and even worse, animosity. I'm leaving before the latter sets in. I have no ill-wills, nor am I upset with anybody, because in the end it's all about partying and having a good time, no? I would hope that the same could be said about me in the minds of the Darkside crew.
Please continue to support Darkside by going to their events, because they are ONE OF THE TOP promotions around. The events they throw are amazing.
Leaving Darkside doesn't mean that I'm going to stop promoting. Actually, I'm going to give this a shot on my own along with a couple of my peoples. Truthfully, I've got nothing planned, nor have an idea of what I'm going to do...yet. You'll be the first to know when I have something going down.
I want thank everybody that I've met and showed love at the boat rides, and other Darkside affiliated events. Hopefully you'll stay along for the ride, and see what I'll be doing in the future. If not, it's all good, and I understand.
Big ups to Canela, Big Bear, DJ Classic, and the rest of the crew that's rolled with Darkside through the years.
Friday, December 21, 2007
What happened to all the nice guys?
An open letter...
What happened to all the nice guys?
The answer is simple: you did.
See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.
At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and reinforced your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.
Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”
Well, once again, you did.
You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.
Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.
So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:
1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.
I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.
< /rant>
::exhale::
Okay. Feeling better now.
The answer is simple: you did.
See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.
At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and reinforced your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.
Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”
Well, once again, you did.
You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.
Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.
So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:
1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.
I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.
< /rant>
::exhale::
Okay. Feeling better now.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
I'm going back to college, college, college...
(Say it like LL Cool J would)
So I'm finally doing it. It took a little over ten years, but I'm currently looking at colleges near where I live. My family is totally shocked by it, and to be honest with you, so am I. I never really liked school. I was a good student; honor roll, B+ average, etc. The only thing that kept me sane while I was there was joining clubs, sports, and after school programs. I was even Student Council president during my senior year in high school (I can picture people reading this having the confused, "Butt-Head" look on their face). It does seem strange that the only way I endured school was to get more involved in it. I can't figure it out either.
I don't regret much in my life, but not getting my degree has been something killing my conscience for quite some time now. It's not about pleasing my parents or what other people think of me (I could give two shits about that). I just want to prove to myself that I can do it.
Quick history lesson on "The Miseducation of E.J. Matos":
I attended Le Moyne College in Syracuse, NY from the Fall of '94 to the Winter of '95 majoring in Accounting. It was some of the best times in my life, because I met some of the coolest people anybody could know. I've reconnected with a few of them recently, and it's like we've never missed a step. The first thing I did when I arrived, was sign up in a bunch of clubs to keep me "sane." That really wore me thin (figuratively of course), and made me lose focus on why I left for college. I had a shitty overall GPA during the first semester of sophomore year, and I was always drained. My parents and myself were having a tough time coming up with the money to pay for school, so I had to make a decision. Either go back to Le Moyne, struggling to pay while not doing well in my classes, or come back home. On December or '95 I packed up my stuff and came back to Tarrytown.
I took a semester off to work with pops to raise money, and then I attended Westchester Community College on a part time basis for the next year and a half. All I did was show up to class, and go home. I didn't get involved in anything outside of class. I figured I would do the opposite of what I did in Le Moyne, and all would be well.
Chris Rock said it perfectly when he said "community college is a night club with books." Nobody took it seriously, and it sucked. The worst part of it was that it was easy; as a matter of fact too easy. I was never challenged my time there. I was close to a 3.9 GPA.
During my time at "Harvard on the Hudson," I got at job at Franklin Covey in White Plains. Commuting from the Bronx with pops and then going to school was leaving me with not that much time in between. I started as a part timer, and six months later, I was working full time with them and going to school two nights a week. Then an opportunity came up. An assistant manager's position opened in Short Hills, New Jersey and the job was mine for the taking. I was doing well with the company, and I knew I could shoot up the ladder quickly. I packed up, and left for Jersey. That was the last time I ever attended a classroom.
I lived in Jersey for a year and a half and went back to White Plains for another promotion within the company. Things are going well and just a few months later, I was promoted again and opened up a new location in Greenwich, Connecticut. As a manager, I also was an unofficial assistant district manager for the the Northeast district. I'd travel all over setting up new stores and train new managers...
Then my career hit a brick wall.
Business sucked, corporate was on our asses, and they offered no help. I was working close to 70 hours a week running the store, cold calling potential clients, visiting current clients to get them to spend more, and helping train new managers since turnover was at an all time high with the company. I was rarely home, and it put a strain in my relationship with my girlfriend at time because I was traveling so much. Then they dropped a bomb on us during a conference call. We were not going to get our yearly raises, and get this...they were cutting our salary! I had to bounce, and bounce I did.
I went back to work with pops in the Bronx, and things were going alright. His partners were retiring, so they sold us their share. I was finally a business owner. That's what I've always wanted to do in my life. Working for "the man" was never an option for me. I've been there now for almost six years, and overall it's pretty good.
While working for Franklin Covey, and at the stores, I got into promoting parties, clubs, and boat rides for something fun to do on the side. I got into DJing a few years ago to grab some extra cash, and some of that side 'nanner. One day we were proofing some artwork for a flier promoting one of our boat rides. I thought it was such a shitty job, and I hated the fact that we had to pay $150 bucks for it. We were short on time, so we had to go with it. One day, I picked up a copy of Photoshop, and decided to mess around with it. I put something together and presented it to the boys. They liked it, so we used it for our next flier. Now to say that I'm a bad artist, it would be compliment. I stink at drawing, and I can't build anything to save my life. What I am good with is working with colors. All of those years in the family business (even as a pre-teen) gave me ability to make good combinations, and decipher what made a good outfit. I use that same knowledge to make eye-catching fliers and websites for ourselves and other promoters.
What's great about this is that in an evening or two after work, I can get a flier done and make some nice cash on the side with barely any sweat. I can do it while watching the game or with the music on in the background. It helps me clear my mind of the everyday stresses of retail life in the hood.
I would love to go further with this, so I figured that going to school and get formal training would be the way to go. Luckily, there are a few good schools that specialize in this field around where I live so it seems like fate. It's a late to apply to a school for this semester, but trust me when I tell you that come Winter of '08, my face will be hitting the books once again.
If you want to see some of my work and might be interested in my services, you can check out my MySpace profile (cheap plug alert)
myspace.com/djkubarico
I'm going back to college, college, college...
I'm going back to college...hmm, I'm hoping so.
***Random funny pic***
So I'm finally doing it. It took a little over ten years, but I'm currently looking at colleges near where I live. My family is totally shocked by it, and to be honest with you, so am I. I never really liked school. I was a good student; honor roll, B+ average, etc. The only thing that kept me sane while I was there was joining clubs, sports, and after school programs. I was even Student Council president during my senior year in high school (I can picture people reading this having the confused, "Butt-Head" look on their face). It does seem strange that the only way I endured school was to get more involved in it. I can't figure it out either.
I don't regret much in my life, but not getting my degree has been something killing my conscience for quite some time now. It's not about pleasing my parents or what other people think of me (I could give two shits about that). I just want to prove to myself that I can do it.
Quick history lesson on "The Miseducation of E.J. Matos":
I attended Le Moyne College in Syracuse, NY from the Fall of '94 to the Winter of '95 majoring in Accounting. It was some of the best times in my life, because I met some of the coolest people anybody could know. I've reconnected with a few of them recently, and it's like we've never missed a step. The first thing I did when I arrived, was sign up in a bunch of clubs to keep me "sane." That really wore me thin (figuratively of course), and made me lose focus on why I left for college. I had a shitty overall GPA during the first semester of sophomore year, and I was always drained. My parents and myself were having a tough time coming up with the money to pay for school, so I had to make a decision. Either go back to Le Moyne, struggling to pay while not doing well in my classes, or come back home. On December or '95 I packed up my stuff and came back to Tarrytown.
I took a semester off to work with pops to raise money, and then I attended Westchester Community College on a part time basis for the next year and a half. All I did was show up to class, and go home. I didn't get involved in anything outside of class. I figured I would do the opposite of what I did in Le Moyne, and all would be well.
Chris Rock said it perfectly when he said "community college is a night club with books." Nobody took it seriously, and it sucked. The worst part of it was that it was easy; as a matter of fact too easy. I was never challenged my time there. I was close to a 3.9 GPA.
During my time at "Harvard on the Hudson," I got at job at Franklin Covey in White Plains. Commuting from the Bronx with pops and then going to school was leaving me with not that much time in between. I started as a part timer, and six months later, I was working full time with them and going to school two nights a week. Then an opportunity came up. An assistant manager's position opened in Short Hills, New Jersey and the job was mine for the taking. I was doing well with the company, and I knew I could shoot up the ladder quickly. I packed up, and left for Jersey. That was the last time I ever attended a classroom.
I lived in Jersey for a year and a half and went back to White Plains for another promotion within the company. Things are going well and just a few months later, I was promoted again and opened up a new location in Greenwich, Connecticut. As a manager, I also was an unofficial assistant district manager for the the Northeast district. I'd travel all over setting up new stores and train new managers...
Then my career hit a brick wall.
Business sucked, corporate was on our asses, and they offered no help. I was working close to 70 hours a week running the store, cold calling potential clients, visiting current clients to get them to spend more, and helping train new managers since turnover was at an all time high with the company. I was rarely home, and it put a strain in my relationship with my girlfriend at time because I was traveling so much. Then they dropped a bomb on us during a conference call. We were not going to get our yearly raises, and get this...they were cutting our salary! I had to bounce, and bounce I did.
I went back to work with pops in the Bronx, and things were going alright. His partners were retiring, so they sold us their share. I was finally a business owner. That's what I've always wanted to do in my life. Working for "the man" was never an option for me. I've been there now for almost six years, and overall it's pretty good.
While working for Franklin Covey, and at the stores, I got into promoting parties, clubs, and boat rides for something fun to do on the side. I got into DJing a few years ago to grab some extra cash, and some of that side 'nanner. One day we were proofing some artwork for a flier promoting one of our boat rides. I thought it was such a shitty job, and I hated the fact that we had to pay $150 bucks for it. We were short on time, so we had to go with it. One day, I picked up a copy of Photoshop, and decided to mess around with it. I put something together and presented it to the boys. They liked it, so we used it for our next flier. Now to say that I'm a bad artist, it would be compliment. I stink at drawing, and I can't build anything to save my life. What I am good with is working with colors. All of those years in the family business (even as a pre-teen) gave me ability to make good combinations, and decipher what made a good outfit. I use that same knowledge to make eye-catching fliers and websites for ourselves and other promoters.
What's great about this is that in an evening or two after work, I can get a flier done and make some nice cash on the side with barely any sweat. I can do it while watching the game or with the music on in the background. It helps me clear my mind of the everyday stresses of retail life in the hood.
I would love to go further with this, so I figured that going to school and get formal training would be the way to go. Luckily, there are a few good schools that specialize in this field around where I live so it seems like fate. It's a late to apply to a school for this semester, but trust me when I tell you that come Winter of '08, my face will be hitting the books once again.
If you want to see some of my work and might be interested in my services, you can check out my MySpace profile (cheap plug alert)
myspace.com/djkubarico
I'm going back to college, college, college...
I'm going back to college...hmm, I'm hoping so.
***Random funny pic***
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