Wednesday, April 8, 2009

A Triumphant Return.

I have the Internet at my house again! Damn, that's exciting. Not only that, but it seems to be consistently working. Amazing. These past three weeks have been rough, and I've actually been rather discouraged about not regularly updating my blog. I feel like it's worth my while to spew out random bullshit thoughts onto the Internets. Anyway, I'll update my four loyal followers as to what has recently been going on in my life.

First and foremost, I moved. I stayed in the delightful Logan Square neighborhood because, to be honest, I have no desire to live anywhere else in Chicago. Close to a bunch of shit without having that bunch of shit directly in your face. A little pretension, which is always necessary, but not enough to choke you to death. Community-like flavor, just like Riddle Road. Anyway, my apartment is fucking big and sweet and a five-minute walk to the train, as opposed to being a 12-minute jaunt. Pretty exciting. The sun actually enters through these things people call windows, which were few and far between at my old place, located in the nutty, circus-land Polish neighborhood. Oh, and when I walk outside at my new place, I don't get the crook eye, stink eye, evil eye, or any other eye you can conjure up. You'd think living in a neighborhood for a year people would get used to you. Not true. I eventually just started shaking my head at the gawkers and staring them down. I dominate staring contests. All that being said, however, I do miss the smell of pierogies. And I'm not being prejudice or anything. My street really did smell like pierogies all the time.

Since I was 19, I've lived in nine different places. Nine. That's kind of outrageous. What's great though is that of those nine places, I've been on the top floor in six of them (I'm not including houses I lived in). Sure, the move sucks and your legs feel like they're going to buckle at the end, but being on the top floor is dynamite. I can jump rope, break dance, roller skate, and drop anvils on the floor and shit doesn't affect or bother me because there's no one above me that can do the same. Plus, you feel like king of the mountain or something. I rule this apartment complex. If you haven't lived on the top floor before, I highly recommend it.

I turned a well-seasoned 28 years old last week. Because my birthday was in the middle of the week, no great festivities were planned. A middle-of-the-week birthday should consist of dinner with friends and drinks afterward. No big time partying allowed. That's for weekend birthdays (this is beginning to remind me of a Patton Oswalt bit so I'm gonna stop right here). Anyway, we went to Kuma's Corner (Justin and Russ would love this place) and were actually able to get a table in less than an hour. Let me remind you that it was fucking Wednesday. This place is ridiculously packed all the time. However, it was delicious, and I enjoyed the company of friends.

In thinking back on my birthday, I'm reminded of a discussion/argument I had with my oldest friend, Michael Short (Shortie). I received several heartfelt texts last Wednesday wishing me a happy birthday (Billy was the only one to drop the ball). I appreciated every single one, but do I really have to text everyone back saying thanks? Is that necessary? I don't think so (plus I was running out of valuable texts anyway). However, because Shortie needs verification that his text didn't go unappreciated, he feels acknowledgment is necessary. In response, I told him that I've known him for something like 20 years and he should probably just call me to wish me a happy birthday. Seems appropriate yeah? However, that would almost involve human to human contact, and Shortie prefers the informal communication of a text message. That's all fine and dandy, but I'm not going to reply to it. Can't have your cake and eat it too. Regardless, he knows me well enough to know that I would want him to call me on my birthday (let me repeat . . . my birthday) so that we can have a short powwow. I'm right and I win.

Now, on to sports. The NCAA tournament was a letdown, because it was kind of dull and because my bracket blew up in the first round. I had Wake Forest in the finals (my picks obviously didn't mirror my previous blog post). What was I thinking? Sometimes, you try to outdo yourself and eventually end up doing yourself right in the ass. Well, that's what happened. I did, however, enjoy running a pool this year for the first time ever. I can see that becoming a habit. Well, that and gambling. My two most hated college athletes won titles this year (Tyler Hansbrough and Tim Tebow), plus the Steelers won the Super Bowl. Another rough year on my sports psyche, no doubt.

Baseball season has begun, and with that has come my second year of fantasy baseball. I'm kind of thinking last year was a fluke. I finished third in a league with a bunch of Pennsylvanians (the boys in Sadaharu and their buddies). Given, they're a bunch of Pennsylvanians, which doesn't bode well for them, but they seem to know about baseball. I'm pretty uneasy about my lineup this year. So, guess what? I'm going to show it to you right now. Everyone aside from Justin can begin not giving a shit:

C Victor Martinez
1B Joey Votto
2B Brandon Phillips
3B Adrian Beltre
SS Rafael Furcal
OF Josh Hamilton
OF Carl Crawford
OF Raul Ibanez
UTIL Carlos Delgado

Bench: Lastings Milledge, Alex Gordon, Milton Bradley, and the immortal Ken Griffey Jr.

Pitchers: Tim Lincecum, Dan Haren, James Shields, Erik Bedard, Edinson Volquez, Bobby Jenks, and Heath Bell

The whole lineup kind of makes me uneasy (why the fuck did I take Beltre) because I went with some of my big producers from last year, which I feel like won't bode well. I'm not gonna lie, I just didn't do enough research this year. Not having the Internet will do that to you. Once Justin and I start our podcast, maybe I won't bother blogging about sports anymore because I'm pretty sure that's primarily what the podcast will consist of. Well, that and Seinfeld references. Oh, and if you think I'm joking, stay tuned. We're really going to start a podcast. We just need to think of snappy name for it. The material's already there. Have you met our brains?

Finally, I'm going to end every blog from now on with a "What I'm listening to" kind of deal. Just five. It's not meant to be elitist or "Hey, look at me, I'm so in the know about all things music." I just read a lot of music blogs, and I enjoy them. So, I'm going to straight cop that shit.

Yelle - Ce Jeu
Black Dice - Repo
Dan Auerbach - Keep It Hid
Bun B - II Trill
Dan Deacon - Bromst

3 comments:

Magda said...

"Sometimes, you try to outdo yourself and eventually end up doing yourself right in the ass."

Such priceless wisdom must come with age. I would love it if you came up with more adages using sexual acts as metaphors. Thanxxx.

Shannon said...

First off, happy Belated birthday Kevin. I'm a crap-ass friend who forgets/never know most people's birthday, but now I do know and wish you a happy 28. Excellent choice with Kuma's. Their burgers make my knees weak, and they have Jason's band on the jukebox.

Nine places to live is a lot for 9 years, but I'm at 8 in 6 years, so I know how that feels. I'm just happy to not be living with a revolving door of roommates anymore. We're deciding between Chicago and Seattle to move to next. If we move to Chicago, it will definitely be in Logan Square.

edwardallen said...

it's good to have you back in the blog-orhood. we've missed your witty insights and delightful comments and observations.

isn't it weird how you live in one spot your entire childhood, and then once you leave your parents house, you spend the next decade living in the average of a different house each year? i can't even remember all the places i have lived. i can't remember all the cell phone numbers i have had either.

when you said that you weren't trying to be some snob by listing the "what i'm listening to" section at the end of your post, i kept thinking to myself, "who does this snob think he is?"

it's been a tough sports year, and as we were talking about via text this evening, fantasy baseball is looking pretty rough, so it's not going to get any better soon.

for my birthday, you can send me a letter. if you need my address, just let me know. i don't want a call, text, email, im, or anything else but a hand-written letter. and sign it "with love."

p.s. include a p.s. in the letter, because everyone loves a p.s.

p.p.s. i love writing comments. even when i have nothing to say, i just enjoy babbling on and on and commenting on the comments you have made in your blog. keep up the good work.