3 AM.

So, it's 3:16 AM pre-Thanksgiving Day and I am white-wine drunk ... finally going to bed after chatting/catching up with my dad all evening.
My sister and her boyfriend arrived later this evening from a short stay in Dallas and overall 14-hour trip from E. Iowa.
Dad finished the "leftovers" turkey - a 21 lb beauty that we sliced, diced and placed into tupperware. Tomorrow's turkey is a fresh Tom being reserved ... he tips the scales at 27 lbs. When you're as good at cooking as my dad is, you don't mess around - you prepare for such events and roast yourself a "leftovers" turkey.
Also, a heaping bowl of secret-family-recipe stuffing is ready too!
Two jugs of pinot grigio have been had this evening alone ... Tomorrow night ads fall-themed cocktails, beer, more wine and yes - a hottub.
I love Thanksgiving.
Wish you were here!
Just don't you dare take my pre-made leftovers, biiitch!

Sheltered.

I went to Disneyworld in Orlando with my family one summer in high school. It was a rainy, but warm day - I remember how humid it was because my mom's naturally curly hair was out of control.
Disneyworld doesn't seem so exciting when you're in high school - plus I had been there previously w/ my sister Clare just before my mom was getting married to Rick, my stepdad. But it was a vacation and it was really great to show the three youngest ones how much fun Disneyworld was - that it surpassed anything you saw on TV or what your friends had told you about it.
Admit it, when you're between six and ten years old, Disneyworld is supreme.

I was sixteen, maybe seventeen at the time ... that morning was chaotic to say the least, but all seven of us managed to pile into the Silver Chrysler Town & Country and enter the park before opening. The day was perfect, the twins and Emily especially had a great time ... it was a successful first trip to Disneyworld for them. We stayed all day, night had fallen and it was time to leave.
If you've ever stayed at Walt Disneyworld until close, you'll know what I'm talking about - hundreds, maybe thousands of people collectively moving towards the exit is pretty nuts. My parents had navigate five kids through the slew of tourists. Somehow I had gotten further ahead of my family to the point where I couldn't see them behind me anymore.
I remember stopping to wait for them to catch up to me, slightly being shoved around by the massive hoard of people leaving the park - no joke, it was a slower-paced "running of the bulls" ... well, and it was with humans instead of cattle. But hopefully you can understand that I was standing still in a sea of people anxiously moving past me.

I had a cell phone at this age, but it wasn't like now where I can't leave the house w/o it ... I remember I left it charging at the rental house.
I didn't panic, I assumed the smartest thing to do was to head to the van and wait there for my family to arrive.

I boarded the trolly, rode about ten minutes to the vast blacktop of rental cars and vans, somehow pinpointed the silver Town & Country we had arrived in and waited.
And waited... and waited.

A scrawny, blonde-haired boy w/ braces just chilling on the bumper of a minivan as dozens of cars drove past. Thinking back, I can't believe no one stopped to see if I needed help.
As I mentioned before, I didn't panic - I was actually proud of myself for getting myself back to the van.

However, back at the exit of the park - my family was hysterical. They had contacted security, reported me missing, later that night, my kid-sister Emily told me she was crying so hard because she thought she'd never see me again.

The thoughts racing through my parents' minds must have been horrendous.
I was a smart-ass kid from a tiny town where nothing bad happens. At the time, there was no way I could comprehend kidnapping, child molestation, child trafficking, etc...
When security finally reached me - ours was the only van left in the parking lot (to which I couldn't see an end; that's how vast these lots are), they confirmed I was the missing kid and told me to sit tight ... then let me be ... by myself... again (fucking idiots).
Maybe twenty minutes later, I saw my mom sprinting towards me - makeup running down her face ... she must have aged five years in those three hours.
She pummeled me, hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe. I could barely understand what she was yelling at me between gasps for breath and hysterical crying and "I love you so much" murmurs.
Even my stoic stepdad had been crying and hugged me and told me he loved me, that he was so glad I was okay.

I think about that summer night in Orlando a lot.

I think about it often because I don't think I'll ever be able to return to the innocence I lost that night. The safe and stable bubble I lived in and knew so well ... popped.
If anything, things got much worse.

Soon after moving to Texas, I was hanging out w/ a high school graduate from Cedar Park who was temporarily living at an Extended Stay because his family moved out of state, but he was to attend college in the area. We got something to eat, and upon returning and taking the stairs to his room, a man had hanged himself in the stairwell - his eyes still open. I'll never shake that image.
Later, getting acquainted w/ Austin, I found a personal assistant ad on Craigslist and submitted my resumé. The man was a lobbyist and ran his own company w/ headquarters in the most well-known building in downtown Austin. He was a friendly, single older gentleman who was very work-oriented and the job kept me busy. I was paid well and had fun. I didn't think it weird at all when he asked me to work weekends at his home office, doing light cleaning, giving his dog baths outside, mowing his lawn shirtless - I was getting paid and it was easy. I was even furnished an iPhone for "work."
However, a "business trip" was scheduled to San Francisco in September of 2009 - the man booked me a ticket, hotel room and said any/all expenses would be covered by the company. Together we flew from Austin to San Fran and I thought it was kind of weird that we ended up having to share a hotel room, considering I was told I would get my own.
Nothing on the agenda the first day, let's explore the city - and we did.
Second day ... no meetings, no presentations - we took a wine tour in Napa Valley.
Third day, scott-free schedule. That night we went out to the Castro district where my intoxicated boss shared w/ me that he was gay. I had honestly felt the vibe before, but never said anything.
I shrugged it off and moved to the dancefloor. I had a good buzz and danced with a cute guy I had met at a sunglass shop on the first day or exploring the city. At bar close, I walked out w/ cute guy and proceeded to get his number ... my boss made a b-line towards me and whispered in my ear, "You're fucking fired, you fucking slut." And got into a cab and left.
With no luck hailing a cab, I used my iPhone to find the hotel and started walking the three mile stretch back. An incoming text said my boss was going to disconnect my phone.
More pissed than anything, I ignored my boss and continued walking ... he was waiting at the front door of the hotel. I entered through a service entrance in an alley and took the elevator to the room.
With the alcohol in full effect, I brashly decided I was going to leave. Once to the hotel room, I deadlocked to door and started frantically packing my bags. Hearing the key and attempts to enter, I quickly gathered all my belongings, unlocked the deadbolt and locked myself in the bathroom.
Sitting in silence, I heard my boss shuffle around the room ... asking me numerous times to come out so we could talk. After a few minutes, I opened the door - before I knew what was happening, I was placed in a choke-hold and my boss was attempting to undress me.
My air supply was being cut off, but I still managed to scream for help! Screaming louder than I ever thought possible, I startled my boss and backed him hard into the wall. Being older, this took a lot out of him and I was able to break free.
I buttoned my pants, grabbed my suitcase and fled for the elevator - tears flooding down my face. For some reason I didn't stop at the front desk for help. I think I was too terrified of being followed.
I was out on the streets w/ a suitcase in the wee hours of the morning, crying and w/o a working phone. After twenty minutes of aimless wandering, I found an open hotel and asked to use the phone - I called my mom and throughout sobs told her the entire trip being a setup and feeling so cheap and abused. She suggested I call the police but I was too crazed, I wanted to get out of town.
The friendly hotel concierge called for an airport shuttle and I waited in SFO for the earliest departure back to Austin.

By now you think I would have gotten wise ... sadly, no.
Recently, after losing my tanning job, I was so desperate for some sort of income that I turned to Craigslist, yet again. A personal assistant job, yet again.
I applied for the job, attached my resumé and received a response the next day.
The gentleman said he was a lawyer focused on U.S. visas and was the president of a newly formed charity and that he often traveled back and forth from his hometown in Australia to Austin, TX.
He asked me a series of questions about myself, saying he wanted to conduct an email interview.
After answering all questions, he emailed the next day saying he felt comfortable hiring me and we settled on a pay rate... his emails were even sent at odd times that fit the time zone of where he said he lived in Australia.
A few days passed and he said he had task for me. I needed to intercept a check destined for an AIDS Awareness charity here in Austin, but first take my cut for first week's pay from the check - the remainder was to be Money Ordered to the charity.
(Yes, I know ... repeating this all, I'm asking myself "how could I be so stupid?!")
FedEx delivered an envelope to me some odd days later, and the day I received it, I received an email from the man saying he'd gotten confirmation of delivery... he gave me all info as to where the check needed to be sent too.
Now, at this time, school had just started back up, so I decided to knock all this out w/ my bank ... the teller didn't flinch when I went to deposit the check - even sent me on my way w/ a receipt for a $4000 deposit. She mentioned it would take a day or two for the check to clear.
This was no bother to my new "boss," he said after it cleared to let him know and he would notify the charity.
During these two days, I contacted him asking him about his arrival back in the states, could we get together over the phone sometime, etc ... no such issues were ever discussed.
Two days passed and I went to withdraw some cash to do laundry, but my card kept showing an error screen at the ATM. So I went inside to the bank where the branch manager stopped me and invited me in her office (I knew her fairly well as I used the same bank all the time).
She showed me the check I had deposited two days earlier and asked where it was from ... I answered honestly and she said she had bad news for me.
The check was completely fake. The teller knew it as soon as she saw it, but was new and thought I was a scammer - homegirl actually thought she'd get a bonus for spotting a scammer.
The nice bank manager told me she was so sorry this had happened to me, but at least I was notified before I unknowingly tried to wire $4K to someone ... and folks, I DO NOT HAVE $4K!
Sadly, the bank had to follow procedure and shut my accounts down and I could no longer bank w/ them.
Pissed off and humiliated, I fired off an extremely long and explicit email to that gentleman and never heard from him again.

I haven't really ever spoken about these incidents to many people ... it's just sad to see how hardened I've become since leaving the comfort and safety of my hometown. I don't exactly like the changes that have come about in my life, so writing all of this is a reminder to myself and warning to others.

Urban NOasis.

Ahhh - come on.
I don't know if any of you ever watch HGTV, but each year they do a "dream home" giveaway. Essentially, it's an amazing (furnished) home, a car and a $500,000 cash prize ... and it's open to anybody to enter.
I've been entering in these giveaways for a few years now ... me and my dad always "oooh" and "ahhh" over each new "dream home." In the past, there's been a beach house in the Florida Keys, a farm house in Napa Valley and an adobe in New Mexico ... to name a few.
This year, the "dream home" was a stellar giveaway - a one-million dollar apartment in The W Hotel & Residences in the financial district of New York City. Holly effing shit.
What an amazing prize!
On top of a furnished one bed/one bath NYC apartment, the winner received $500K and a 2011 Acura ZSX (it's ugly, but it's an Acura - I'd take it!).
There were many ways to enter - internet, snail mail and phone registry.
According to the rules, you could only enter twice a day.

Folks ... I entered twice a day, everyday for over two months!!!!

What would I do had I won? I don't fucking know! But I'd be in New York, New York w/ $500K. I'm sure I could easily find something to do!
I just watched the giveaway on HGTV. Ugh, but sadly I wasn't awarded the prize... some fatty engineer student in (nasty) Florida won. And the dope entered once. Just once.

Ugggh. Oh well, you best believe I'ma be entering in every giveaway from here on out.

Peeping Tom.

Don't you wish that you could be a fly on the wall? A sneaky little, creepy little fly on the wall ... don't worry, I'm just being Miley.

But honestly, are you ever so wrapped up in yourself that it makes you stop and wonder what others think of you, your actions, your behavior?

I have a shitty apartment in a really hip neighborhood - so hip that it's on the border of the ghetto ... you know, how SoHo and SoBe and WeHo all became trendy ... borderline ghetto.
Anyway, tonight was just another typical weekend night where I buy the jug version of my favorite wine, cuddle on the sofa w/ Bella and watch a movie that tends to draw unappealing emotions. I love this apartment.

I live on the second floor, on the corner, and Bella is sure to alert me of anyone - and I mean anyone (even a car driving by) that passes my living room window.
Bella, who thinks she's a cat, loves to sit on top of the loveseat and stare out the window ... she shoves my light-canceling curtains back, thus never getting full use of them.
In short, pretty much anyone can see directly into my apartment.

Tonight, as my emotions got the best of me, I quickly caught myself and cranked my head toward the window to be sure no one saw the tears welling in my eyes. This got me thinking, although technically illegal, wouldn't you love to just have half an hour to observe that someone special in your life?
Look, you think you know them ... you've known them long enough to understand their habits and you hear them talk about what they do when they're alone. But it's got to be completely eye-opening to watch a person in their natural state, and truly learn what they're like.

I'm sure if someone had this ability to view me, they'd realize how big of a dork I am:
I mostly have no pants on, I talk to my dog like she's a baby, I fart and belch and watch TV shows I dare not mention in public.
It's odd, but after thinking about it, shouldn't I be able to do all these things in front of someone I care the most about? Yet, why don't/didn't I?

I think I've come to this realization early in life...
Who cares?
People that know me, know I'm weird.
I know this because, in many cases, the people I befriend or even guys I've dated have told me so; "You're so weird," they say.
But I enjoy hearing this because they say it as if it were refreshing.
There's no pretense w/ me. No bullshit.

Given the chance, would I still want to be seen in public w/ the guy who walks around his apartment in a witch hat, boxers, glasses and eating Kix cereal while watching Will & Grace?
You betcha.
That level of dorkiness only turns me onto that particular person more - it would allow me to see their true self.

As I looked out my open window while tears streamed down my face, I became self-aware that my current life is already a window w/0 light-canceling curtains ... and I couldn't be more comfortable.

Let's talk professionalism...

I'll start this post stating the following facts:

I'm a twenty-two year old male.
I'm currently seeking a degree.
I have a job where I speak to professionals on a daily basis.

Now, there's been something on my mind since after lunch today...
As a short backstory, I work at an online advertisement agency and it's my job to contact websites to find availability to run all sorts of ads.
Currently I'm working on a "rovion" advertisement. So when you log onto your favorite website, a small person pops up in the bottom-right corner, and walks to the bottom-middle of your screen while talking about the product he/she represents... it's a tough sell to many websites because it's so annoying and intrusive.
Because of it's annoying and intrusive manner, I can't create a launch plan until I know which sites can run it.

Now being at the level I am in this company, I don't have all the details of such campaigns ... simply because they haven't been made yet.
So I'd been working on sending upwards of 100 emails out to possible websites that followed the demographics my clients were hoping to reach. The email stated that I had a general inquiry about each websites hosting abilities and I had some details of each campaign - but I stated any/all information I had and that it was the only information I had.

Out of 100 emails, probably 80 of them returned asking for more information ... which is fine. People need to know what's happening w/ the monies they could potentially be spending.
I even fielded many a phone call.

This one prick from an online newspaper in Philadelphia emails me back asking for more details. I kindly respond that I had no further details and I was just making a mock up of potential websites that could run this campaign.
He emails back w/ bits of his email in ALL CAPS, asking for dates that the campaign will run, the total budget of the campaign, the rate we're requesting ... writing it as if I were retarded.

I don't justify his email w/ a response.
After an hour goes by, he emails me again and patronizes me telling me how money works for him and how stupid I must be for trying to pass a campaign w/o specifics. He even mentions that I must be a newbie. And even asked for contact information of my boss.

What. A. Douche.

Now, I'm a person that can get into drama. I'm a storyteller. I can make some heat...
But that's what this blog is for.
I'm in a professional environment, dealing w/ thousands of dollars and some high-level executives here. And it just irks me that someone brings this kind of drama into such a setting. This guy knows nothing about me or the company I work for, yet he's willing to risk a potential cash-cow for the website he represents as well as future relations w/ my company? All so that he can feel superior?

Maybe he felt loss of power when he realized there's no more fall. I bet he was just as bothered by his Christmas-y Starbucks cup this morning as I was...

Either way, I blind-copied the editor of the newspaper on all of our emails, so I'm sure this guy will have some heat coming to him tomorrow!
Oops, I think I just injected some drama into my professional guise.

Heeheehee.

Seasons.

I don't know if you know this, but there are four seasons in a year.
Now, in Texas, it may actually seem like there are just two, but I digress.

I was just getting ready for fall not too long ago ... the weather has finally cooled down and I no longer break into a sweat walking from my car to class.
Summer's over!
Aaaand winter's here.

Wait.
What?!
Winter?!?

Where the fuck did fall go?

I've got a big beef curtain about this because fall is my favorite time of the year!
(Please tell me ya'll know the disgusting, yet genius term - beef curtain)

When I lived in Iowa, it had become tradition to make a trip up to the SW corner of Wisconsin to see the beautiful shades of amber, orange, yellow and red in the trees on the bluffs of the Mississippi River. It also meant walking through the orchards of Gays Mills and visiting Sherman's Pumpkin Patch in Manchester and taking your family pictures in the red wagons and harvested corn stalks.

Well apparently, my favorite season of the year - much like the Pacific Ocean (tectonic plates, ya'll) - is shrinking.

I'd just gotten rid of my boner from Halloween weekend (seriously some sexy people out there) and went to my nearest Starbucks the morning of November 1.
I ordered my regular, gave the barista $4.51 and she hands me a tall red, snowflake-adorned cup.
"Excuse me miss, this isn't what I ordered."
"Venti vanilla latte, right?"
"Yeeeah, but I'm not about to show up to work w/ a Christmas mug!"
"Ha ha - we just got those in yesterday! Cute, right?! Have a good day!"

Ewww, sick. Two hours previous to this scenario, I was dreaming of how fat I'd be after an amazing tri-helping of Thanksgiving dinner! You know, that day where everyone eats turkey, gets drunk and passes out during a football game??

Ringing any bells??

Don't worry - if you forgot about this holiday, you're apparently not alone.
Walgreens is playing Christmas music and red and green are puking out of the primary aisles.
People are Facebooking/Tweeting about how their Christmas trees are already up - with damn presents underneath them!!!
Mariah Carey, who's been sitting at home for two years, getting pregnant, decides to break her silence w/ a Christmas album! She releases it in October (I forgive her though, because she's fucking crazy)!
I opened my Gmail a week ago and my mom (who's also a little crazy) sent me an itinerary for my Christmas flight home ... she just booked a flight - a NINE DAY STAY.

I guess I'm just a little upset.
I don't want to trade in trunks and a margarita for a turtleneck and eggnog ... or, in the Wolfe Family's case, shots of Goldschlagger.
To make things worse, everyone's going nutzo at work because "Black Friday" (the huge shopping day after Thanksgiving) apparently has a precursor ... and our clients want their heavy campaigns for Christmas sales set to run the week prior to "Black Friday."

...phone call w/ client:
Ben: "So, you want your ad to advertise a sale the week before Black Friday?"
Client: "Yeah, that way we can release another ad campaign the week of Black Friday advertising the sales we'll have after Black Friday."

I mean - does that even make sense??

I just want fall to still exist, because I really want to eat, get drunk and pass out to a football game.