It’s been over twelve years since Jen and I met. Believe it or not, I have a picture of her from every single year since.
My, oh my, how the times have changed.
Tag: famiry
If I can help it
I don’t want to fly in and out of Washington DC again for a long time. Or anywhere else for that matter. I’m getting exasperated with the process these days.
Photos: Two baseball trips and a wedding
Headlining this recent batch of photo dumping is the wedding of my big gay brother getting married in a sham of a wedding that to those who know him, will not fool anyone in thinking he is anything other than a magnificent homo. Other dumps are of my recent baseball trips to Lynchburg and Richmond, Virginia, that fewer people will care about, so clicking the image goes directly to the wedding album.
Over eleven years in the making
This serves as a preview picture of the 100 photos I took over the weekend, and a reminder that I am indeed in the brogging business. May was a gauntlet of a month to begin with, and I’m hardly finding much time to catch up with personal brogging shit from a combination of prior engagements, baseball, family shit, and work. But back from the wedding of my big gay brother, I am left with a feeling of happiness for him, and recognition of a good time altogether. Pictures will be soon coming.
But in the mean time, this may be a picture of us all looking all polished, nice, and dapper, but approximately 4,234 days ago, this following picture was taken:
Photos: Art League Atlanta, Round 2
Round 2 of Art League Atlanta action, as Jen advanced to the second round, with the winner going all the way to the finals. Not really a whole lot for me to say about the whole concept, or the art in itself, but it was still a fun evening with some friends, where thankfully, I didn’t get nearly as trashed as I did in round 1, which had me waking up the next morning with a bit of a hangover. It’s quite a scene, with a myriad of types of people, lots of drinking, lots of people pretending to be photographers, and quite a few chicks practically wearing nothing but paint, pasties and panties.
As for Jen and her opponent, the best analogy I have for the situation is that it was like 80s-90s WWF women’s division, where Alundra Blayze was the champion. She was also thin, in shape, and blonde. And since it’s easy for the fans to assume that the pretty champion was the good guy, Vince McMahon always fed her a steady diet of opponents that were weird, not-quite as good looking, and a tad on the rotund side. Perfect analogy.
She also did a whole lot of weird abstract art, which made absolutely no sense to me, whenever I glanced at her execution. Oh, she’s using a hair dryer on her piece… but it doesn’t really change the fact that it still kinda sucked. Now I don’t pretend that I have some extensive art background, despite the fact that I’m somewhat of an artist myself for a living, but seriously, no fucking clue. Smashed up plexiglass with red paint watered down, splattered onto it, and then forcefully dried with a hair dryer doesn’t really result in something at all that visually appealing, let alone sellable for actual United States currency.
But no matter, I’m only mean because of her sore loser, poorly veiled remarks towards Jen and her work. Because Jen defeated her fairly easily in the end, to the surprise of pretty much nobody present, so in the end, it could be said that the evening was pretty successful on all accounts.
Sounds about right
As of right now, I’ve missed six flights back to Atlanta, and I’m currently stranded at Reagan National Airport. The storms I narrowly avoided leaving Atlanta on Friday ultimately caught up with me on Saturday, and in the process forced pretty much every airline to cancel flights left and right, to which the continuous backlash of such backlogging is striking me with much vengeance at this very moment. I predict I will miss a total of twelve flights by the time I’m able to get through. Thankfully I have plenty to read, and the requisite internet access to bitch and moan about how much my April’s been sucking.
Needless to say, without question, I won’t be able to make it back to Atlanta in time for me to actually do any work that I’d get paid to do. I have the option of calling my mom and having her get me out of here until a later time when every single flight doesn’t have 50+ other stranded passengers waiting to get on, but to be perfectly honest, I’d rather wait here at the airport. It’s barely more comfortable here than it is at my parents’ house.
Welp
10 minutes outside of Hagerstown, the Twitter page for the Hagerstown Suns finally breaks the news that the game I was going to go to was postponed until tomorrow. The bad news is that I wasted a trip out to Hagersfuck for absolutely nothing, except maybe some fried brownie bites. The good news is that my tickets are still good for tomorrow for a double header. The bad news is that if I want to watch baseball tomorrow, I have to make another trip out to Hagersfuck. I’d rather not spend hours of awkward silence with my dad again, and I’m actually debating on going up there on my own, and eating the cost of the second ticket for my own sanity. Anyone out there left in this area want to go blown an afternoon watching me a baseball nerd in Hagersfuck, Maryland?