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A common misconception

Contrary to popular belief, I am still alive. It turns out that many people, especially those with whom I have little regular contact, look to this site or my oh-so-quirky away messages as proof of my continued well-being. The last week they’ve both been AWOL due to a demanding schedule and some hard-disk problems, but I assure you that all is well. Thanks in no small part to our good friend alcohol, I survived my last horrific week just fine.

The highlight of the week’s drinking was Tuesday night, when Kelly took me as her guest to her company Christmas party at Wild Ginger downtown. Kelly does programming for a company called Marchex that provides online advertising service. Apparently they’re doing quite well – well enough to provide us an eight-course meal at one of the swankest places downtown, and to give us two drink tickets each. Some of Kelly’s Mormon coworkers gave us their tickets as well, so we each loaded up on long islands. The original plan was to keep sober so that I could study for my Graphics final the next day, but after an hour or so with Kelly’s delightful and strange friends I decided that a couple hours the next morning would do the trick just fine. It did, thankfully – no problems on that front.

Thursday night I attended a party at Bryan’s old house on 17th and 50th, and many people joined me. One of the housemates, a guy named Matt, plays poker for a living. Last weekend he won over $60,000 at a tournament, so he bought a couple kegs for the house to celebrate. He’s sponsored now, and they pay to fly him out to tournaments and pay his entry fees. Right now he’s seriously considering dropping out of college, and I can’t say that I blame him. When you can pull in around $5,000 a tournament just playing cards, who needs business school? Anyway, the party was a lot of fun, except that everyone was tired from the marathon of work we’ve been doing lately. I myself had to give a presentation to a higher-up at work – someone so many levels of management above me that I didn’t even know that he existed – at 9:30 in the morning. Friday was tough to get through, but I made it alright in the end.

Now I’m back in Gig Harbor where there’s nothing to do but watch DVDs, play Nintendo, and read. Which is fine, as far as I’m concerned. We fly out tomorrow morning for nine days in Mazatlan, so don’t expect to hear from me for a while.

One thing to note is that I got a haircut just now for the first time since June. It hurt me, on the inside where the shears can’t reach. My hair was truly awe-inspiring, but it had to go. My grandfather, who is hosting the party in Mazatlan, is ex-military and doesn’t cotton to no long-hairs in his gene pool. A necessary sacrament. It’s a good haircut, but just doesn’t have all the majesty of my previously flowing locks. Hopefully it grows out enough by the time I get back to Seattle that I’ll still be able to awe and inspire the kids in my CSE 142 section.

We also swung by the Gig Harbor Bartell’s, where I learned that they have a section called “Ethnic care”. I didn’t go look at the products, so I can only imagine what that entails. Is this corporate sanctioned terminology? Do the ethnics who will ostensibly be buying the products in that section approve of the label? Or is it meant to imply a buying relationship like that above the “Pet care” aisle? “Caring for your new Ethnic: a guide for the novice minority owner.”

Posted in Musings.

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