Tuesday was something of an event for me. It was an otherwise normal day, work, eat, etc. And then, that night, I went out for a couple of drinks. Which is, as some of you may know, not that unusual. What made it unusual was that I went out with two fellow bloggers. It was... actually, it was great. They were both fun, very cool people. I must admit, I was nervous as hell about it. I mean - it's the internet. Who knows what people are like in the really real world? What if they turned out to be giant douchebags? Or werewolves? What if they tried to kill me and turn my skin into sheets and feast on my steaming entrails?
Worst of all, what if they were just flat-out fucking dull?
Well, they weren't. They were charming and funny and cool as hell.
But it brings to me a strange point - I feel like I've lifted the veil that has shrouded my blogging (journey? career? endless diatribe?) thing for the first time. I mean, until recently, I never actually considered meeting anyone who I read, or who comes by the ole' Meat Factory. It's somewhat comforting that they were actually
But see... here's the thing. Here's my strange little secret.
No one knows about this site. With the exception of Mrs. TK, who treats it like she treats my tattoos, my drinking, and my clumsiness - that is, just another side of the man she
When I started this mess over a year ago, it was basically just so I could comment on other sites. Then I took about a six-month hiatus, then started up in earnest. Now... now people actually read it. I'm not always sure why, but you do (and don't think I don't appreciate it). But I still never told anyone. I guess after a while, it got weird to think about:
"Oh, hey guys. By the way, for the last 18 months I've had my own website that I write in sort of regularly and now know a bunch of people that you've never heard of."
I dunno. I just don't know. I don't know why I've suddenly started to think about this, but I have. And I'm not sure what to do.
Anyway. Enough about that.
Some of you may have read about my plight last night over at I'm Quietly Judging You. If you care to, check that out and come back (but don't read the comments, because they're a quagmire of lunacy and barely constrained sexual tension). Well, you should be happy to know that our Executive Director took pity on me. We were sitting in the terminally dull meeting, listening to the Police Commissioner ramble on about some shit. I was going out of my mind. Checking my watch compulsively, and fidgeting like a 5 year old who had to pee (one thing you may not know - I fidget incessantly. All the time. I might have OCD. But I can't go 30 minutes without getting all antsy in my pantsy). And then, we heard a roaring noise...
... it was fighter jets. They were flying over Fenway, which is only a couple of miles from my office. I glanced out the window glumly, turned back to the table, and my ED caught my eye and gave me the subtle high sign, and silently mouthed:
"Get out of here".
I double taked, stared at him, and he repeated his gesture, and I quietly gathered my paperwork, smiled at him, and fucking BOLTED out of the building, down the street, into my car, and made it to the bar where me friends were in time for the middle of the second inning. (It's worth noting that my ED is a Yankees fan, and still took pity on me. I think I'm going to send him a nice fruit basket.)
So alls well that ends well. I made my meeting appearance, and got to see a great game and had a great time.
"That's right buddy"
That's all for now. But I got subpoenaed yesterday for court tomorrow, so maybe you'll get to hear about that.
HOLY FUCKING HELL. UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE:
I just got offered tickets to tomorrow night's game. God, I take back some of the things I said about you.