Friday, October 14, 2005

PB&J.

Do you know what the coolest thing about my job is, besides the steady paycheck and health insurance (which I haven't used yet even though I haven't been to a doctor in like, ten years)? 40 cent peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. You see, the cafeteria here at Hyperglobalmegacorp has this self-service toast bar in the morning. A piece of toast costs 20 cents. You toast the bread yourself and top it with a selection of jams, jellies and/or butters. One of the butters of choice is that of the peanut variety. I choose to purchase two pieces of raw toast, top one with strawberry jam, the other with peanut butter, and BAM! 40 cent peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Ms. Brick chooses to toast her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Yes I know, she is clearly insane.

That was the most interesting thing I could think of to write about today. I haven't been playing any poker, and I cashed out most of my bankroll. I'm going to try to build up another bankroll by bonuswhoring casino websites using this guide that Scurvydog put together. It seams like it might actually work. You just have to follow the instructions exactly and not let your desire to gamble take over. It will also be mindnumbingly boring. If I can successfully scrounge up another grand or so I might start playing poker again in a few weeks when the dust settles on our internet situation and the partypoker situation. I'll let you know how it goes.

In other news, I need to lose 20 pounds. I am slowly becoming a tub of goo. I have gained about 17 pounds in three years. At this rate I will weigh 330 pounds by the age of 50. That's not a good weight to be at age 50. The outlook is dim. I know exactly what it takes to lose weight and get in shape. In fact, I have lost 20 pounds several times. The problem is finding the motivation. The motivation just isn't there. Maybe I'll change the focus of my blog from poker to weight loss. I don't know if that's a good idea, because then the focus will be trying to please other people instead of myself. The only times in my life when I've ever truly accomplished anything is when I set a goal for myself and didn't tell anyone about it, which reminds me of a story...

I remember when I was a freshman in high school. I joined the band. I wasn't planning on joining (because band in high school is for fags) but I was bored out of my mind the first two weeks of high school and didn't have any friends. So I joined band. I played saxophone in elementary school and junior high. Half the freshman in any high school band enter as saxophone players and most of them suck but think they are good. I was no exception. I noticed lots of the older kids played more than one instrument. I wanted to be cool like them. After marching band ended in the fall, the director suggested I take up French horn. Then all of a sudden this 3-person crew of freshman saxophone playing girls that didn't like me decided they wanted to play French horn too. Those bitches.

It was left upon Mike, the awesome senior French horn player to teach us how to play (Mike is now a professional piano player, appearing Thur-Sun at Bellagio's Baccarat Bar). The other good horn player was this junior named Brian. He was a bit of an arrogant pretty boy cock. I liked him, though.

So the four of us tried to play horn. During band class we all crowded in a practice room and practiced. We all sucked. That was to be expected. The Three Evil Ones, as I took to calling them, showed no mercy. They constantly made fun of me and told me I sucked, failing to mention that they also sucked. One time one of them spit on me. I also remember one of them trying to draw on me with lipstick, and another time they threw my Suns hat in the mud (actually it was only one of my Suns hats; somewhere in a box in a storage unit in Phoenix there are approximately 12.6 baseball caps featuring the words "Phoenix Suns" acquired by me from 1989-1994).

Circumstances as far as band was concerned were in my favor, though. My schedule had me switching to advanced band second semester, while their schedules had them staying in beginning band. I don't know if this was an accident or what, but that meant I got to sit with my French horn (I didn't do much playing) with the big kids in the concert band. I was 4th chair, behind Michalle (another freshman, and yes, that's how her name is spelled) in 3rd, Brian at 2nd and Mike at 1st. Being in a separate band class meant The Three Evil Ones couldn't harrass me as much. Plus I got the added benefit of sitting with the main band, which improved my skillz. I practiced and slowly improved. Mike helped me a lot. That spring Mike and Brian both made the Arizona Southwest All-Region Band. Then summer happened.

I went to all of the summer band sessions. I practiced mellophone (what French horn players play in marching band; it's like a big, huge, fat trumpet) for marching band. I got better than Michalle during this time. I also took weekly lessons from Mike before he left for college. The Three Evil Ones were strangely absent for most of summer band. It was optional, because the director can't exactly require you to show up at school during summer. I also went to jazz band camp to get better at saxophone. When sophomore year started, The Three Evil Ones were back on their saxes for marching band. You know what? They can just eat it.

While marching band went on I secretly practiced my sax for jazz band auditions and also the audition etudes for the Arizona Southwest All-Region Band for French horn.

I made 2nd alto sax in Jazz Band 2, (our high school's second jazz band; Jazz Band 1 was one of the best H.S. jazz bands in the Southwest U.S. Top players from other schools would actually transfer just for jazz band) beating out those three chicks. In the meantime I practiced the fuck out of those All-Region etudes.

After marching band was finished the concert band horn section looked like this 1st: Brian, 2nd: me, 3rd: Michalle, 4th: Mike's little sister. Where are you, Three Evil Ones? Oh, I see you over there, playing your saxes. Remember how I beat all of you at that very instrument for a spot in Jazz 2? Yeah me, too. You know what? You can just eat it.

Then All-Region auditions happened. One French horn player from our school made it. It was me. You can all just eat it.

That’s the condensed version of the story. I think I had a point. Oh yeah, I didn’t tell anyone I was going for jazz band or All-Region, but I focused and practiced and accomplished my goal. The only times I’ve accomplished goals for myself is when I keep my intentions to myself. Whenever I’ve told someone “Yeah, I’m gonna get better at blah blah blah” I’ve never done it. That’s why I like to keep plans secret. I've also noticed it helps if there is some level of revenge or proving myself to someone involved.

So yeah, I need to lose 20 pounds.

3 Comments:

At 9:21 AM, Blogger Brick said...

Hey, I have to keep you people coming back somehow, don't I?

Actually, I thought of a goal I accomplished in relation to the French horn and realized the back story was going to be long, and I have a lot of work to finish today and I can't stay late because I am going pumpkin picking with Scott.

I will finish the French horn story and hopefully I will have a pumpkin-picking story in the next few days.

 
At 5:28 PM, Blogger Scotty Win said...

Scott misjudged the time it would take to drive to pumpkin picking. Sorry. Instead, the Brick et al. will spend a night out, not playing poker. Ms. Brick will be thrilled.

 
At 7:05 AM, Blogger Brick said...

I finished the story. The first comment was written after I started the story and left it with a "to be continued..."

 

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