The Days Fly By

Got my diploma today. Officially a jack of all trades, Master of Arts now. ;)

Went on a decent warm-up bike ride yesterday. about 15 miles. The goal is to be doing 60+ by the time Amanda gets here in early August.

So much exciting stuff coming up! Vegas 2.0 with my Boulder girls. OBX with Justin, Barbara, Buddy and others in tow. The Great Race (10k) in September. AND, the world's most exciting New Year's Adventure--EVER:

December 30th-January 5th

Wednesday--arrive in Miami, check into beach-front hostel, chill
Thursday--shopping, chilling, sightseeing!
Friday--night of mayhem as we ring in the new year in one of the nation's biggest party towns!
Saturday--trip it to Tampa for Pens vs. Lightening
Sunday--up early for the commute back to Miami. Steelers vs. Dolphins, baby. Woot! This followed by Pens vs. Panthers only 45 minutes later!
Monday--recovery day
Tuesday--back to the 'burgh after showing Floria what's up

Good times on a daily basis as well. My life is on continuous party/adventure it seems. After work last night Caleb and JFF hit me up for some old school South Side partying. We rocked out at Bar 11 (probably one of the best bars in the 'burgh currently), and reminisced.

This is getting a little ridiculous

We've all had a good laugh at how lucky I am. How everything goes my way. Well, things are almost getting a little out of hand. It is unbelievable the way the universe goes out of its way to cater to me.

Here we go.

So, Lisa and I went out to the South Side, only to discover that she had either lost her wallet or left it at home. Either way, our chances of finding a bar we could get into without I.D. on a weekend evening were slim at best, but I decided to search for a parking spot and try and hit up Bar 11, a dive off the main drag with a really strange crowd and stranger practices.

We must have been circling the same few blocks for a half hour, narrow, one way back allies lined on both sides with parked cars. Coming up to the bar--yet again--a car was paralleling (lucky dog) to my left, and doing a piss poor job of it, I might add. I compensated (like you do) for her maneuvering by sliding a little more to my right. Well, too far apparently, because my mirror clipped that of a parked vehicle. No big deal, actually, because it's 2008 and cars' mirrors give for just that purpose. So, no damage was done to either car, but it made a really loud noise.

There was a stop sign only two cars past the one I hit, and I stopped, only to find a pedestrian cop strolling up to my car.

Shit. You have got to be kidding me. I am so tried of police officers at this point I was ready to get out of the car, leave it running, and bolt for the hills, just to avoid talking to the guy.

So, he says to me, "What'd you hit?"

"I hit something?" Playing dumb has gotten me everywhere in these situations. And I am not too proud to get out of a ticket, a D.U.I., or an insurance claim.

I looked over at my mirror, which had closed in towards the car, and gasped as if I had noticed it for the first time.

"Stay there," he said, and went to inspect the "damage" on the other car.

He had my pull over, took my license, told me it was no biggie, and sent me on my merry way. But first, I thought, hey, he's not being a prick; I'll ask him:

"Do they card to get into this bar?"

"Yeah, they do. Why?"

"She forgot her license."

"How old are you?" he turned his attention to Lisa.

"23."

"Well," said the officer who had just had me pull over because I hit a parked car, "I'll just say I checked your I.D. You can go in."

So, let me get this straight. The only reason Lisa and I were able to go out that night was because I clipped a car and a cop was there to witness it. Can anybody explain my life to me?

Yeah, I didn't think so.



The bar was cool, btw. We had a great night.

Symphony delight

Laurel and me meeting Chris Botti, guest trumpeter with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.

Absolutely fabulous evening. I cried several times throughout the show. Such a moving and wonderful experience. Really, I must recommend going. Tickets for the symphony can be so cheap; we got ours for $19 each.

I constantly go on about how I am not a "music is my life" person, as I call it. It's just become so trendy. I blame iPods for this. Everyone has to be so music obsessed. One must have his little soundtrack to his life playing at all times. Blah. iPods are to music what fantasy leagues are to sports, but whereas the concept is good for sports (more people interested in more games), it's terrible for music (an entire art form has been reduced to a fad).

But, I digress. Although I refuse to sit around and talk about how much music means to me, or how it is the universal language, or how terrible and lost the world would be without it, and blahbitty blah...I do have an appreciation for what it can do with human emotion. I sat tonight and was overwhelmed. I hear music and see things--it conjures images. I imagine scenes that match the mood with characters and story lines. And nothing is better than a concert. I'll see anything live. The concert atmosphere just gets me every time and I adore it.

I recommend looking up Botti. He's a masterful jazz musician. And try branching out to classical if you haven't yet dared to give it a try. I was surprised.


Let it Rain

Another late post. It's going to happen more and more as I only have internet access at my father's but stay with my mom rather frequently, but enough with the excuses. Let's get to the craziest night, possibly ever.

Went to Oakland, got a shot, chilled with Laurel, went to Dara's, met up with the guys, headed back to Bar 11.

Last night, Bar 11 was a chill dive bar with a laid back atmosphere and a, shall we say, minimal clientele.

This night was different--earth-shatteringly different.

Approached the bar to find 3 cops and a bouncer standing outside. There was a line, and music and loud voices poured out onto the street through the windows. A girl appeared from the door wearing an innertube and soaking wet.

We paid our cover and offered up our ids, but had to wait for some people to exit as the space was at capacity. At capacity.

The door opened for us, and we were greeted by a nearly naked man (and several others scantily clad in beach wear. Water was streaming from the ceiling, and a 1/2 inch thick puddle had formed on the floor. Goggles and squirt guns decorated the bar top and every other flat surface. The air was thick and hot and wet, and sweaty, soaking bodies were forced up against you from all sides.

At capacity.

We laughed, danced, ducked under plastic tarps in order to access the ATM, and exchanged glances of amazement, amusement, and utter disbelief at the display unfolding in front of us for the remainder of the evening.

Again, my life is a movie. Again, Pittsburgh is the greatest place on earth.

No photos of said craziness, as cameras and sprinklers do not get along. However, here is an awe inspiring pic of the lovely miss Laurel and me in Shadyside.

Bar 11...

...is the greatest bar on earth. Black lights and sharpie highlighters are good times, as is the mixture of alcohol and toys.

Quote of the night:

"Childhood would have been so much better if alcohol had been involved."

Some other classics:

"Oh, you're from Philly? Remember when the Pens beat you in the semi-finals? Yeah, that was great. Haven't you guys not won a championship since 1983? Yeah, that's cool." =P

"AVAILABLE." (my name tag)

"We're disengaged!" ~the three coolest people ever (of course, myself is included in that)

"He and I have been together fo-, I mean, shit, that came out wrong." ~Erik, on being "roommates" with Matt =D

"I <3>" ~my hand/middle finger

Last night was way too visual to blog about.

No photo. I took one of me, but it apparently got deleted. =(