A Canvas of Suffering
Someone must write of what happened two weekends ago before it fades into obscurity. Someone must bear witness to the deeds done that day. That long, hot day.
On the weekend June 3, I traveled to Clemson to participate in a very special event: Jeromie's Bachelor Party. The featured activity? Paintball. No ordinary paintball, mind you. This was paintball for men. With slingshots.
What? Yes.
Slingshots? Indeed.
While those around us shouldered their clunky gas-powered weapons, we strode into the field of battle armed only with surgical-grade rubber and the strength of our arms. It was a mixture of childlike fun with adult pain. While people like Lance and Cory racked up the kills, Arnold and I formed the self-appointed "Fodder", lifting cries of self-sacrifice as we charged into the maddened horde.
After we cleaned up, we went for barbeque and then Frankie's, where slicktrack drifting and miniature golf rounded off the day. Later on, a bruised and tired entourage relaxed on Jeromie's deck with beer and laughter. None of us had trouble getting to sleep.
And now there's less than a week until Jeromie ties the knot. Madness! I honestly don't know how I'm going to feel this weekend. It will be strange, for sure.
As for the time surrounding this past weekend, I went down to Charleston Wednesday for a seminar on Thursday about Foreign Trade Zones. It was mildly interesting, although mostly irrelevant for someone without a specific need to know about them. I went at the suggestion of the Director of the SC World Trade Center. I talked to a few people, as was my goal, and even handed out a resume. We'll see what happens, but so far my networking has been successful.
After the conference I went for a walk downtown. I took a table in a coffee shop with some iced Oregon Chai and started small-talk with a man next to me. As we were talking, his rather attrative daughter with cold eyes walked in. When I mentioned that I had studied French, I rather abrubtly learned that she was fluent. We exchanged a few phrases, and the two of them parted. I felt a cold panic the whole time I spoke with her, afraid of not understanding her or knowing how to say what I wanted. Yes, this boy needs to practice speaking his French. I'm not terrible, so why shouldn't I try to be fluent? Becky?
Oh, yes. Arnold got two new games: Paper Mario-the Thousand Year Door and Kirby Air Ride. Air Ride is lots of fun, and quirky to boot, but Paper Mario was the big surprise. To Arnold, specifically, as he didn't realize when he got it that is was an RPG, and he doesn't play RPGs. Or he didn't use to. :)
Turning to more serious matters, my OCD has started to surge recently. On many recent evenings, I'll start to experience a 'funk'. I described it to Jeromie as feeling like someone's watching you (except that you know they're only in your head), and knowing that if you show any weakness, they will devour you. Rather disconcerting. It also makes me feel like all the things in my life, and often my life itself, are meaningless. I'm going to try readjusting my schedule under the supposition that perhaps the gap between the times I take my medicine is allowing for these swings. If that doesn't help, it's back to my creepy shrink.
Oh, before I forget. I watched "Good Night and Good Luck" while I was up at Clemson. For those who are familiar with Edward R. Murrow, you'll excuse my fawning over his masterful articulation and the artistry with which he spoke. For those who aren't familiar, I suggest a rental. It's short, but the writing's good.
Update: completed
Footer image: loading
Awesomeness: intact
Twilight: out
On the weekend June 3, I traveled to Clemson to participate in a very special event: Jeromie's Bachelor Party. The featured activity? Paintball. No ordinary paintball, mind you. This was paintball for men. With slingshots.
What? Yes.
Slingshots? Indeed.
While those around us shouldered their clunky gas-powered weapons, we strode into the field of battle armed only with surgical-grade rubber and the strength of our arms. It was a mixture of childlike fun with adult pain. While people like Lance and Cory racked up the kills, Arnold and I formed the self-appointed "Fodder", lifting cries of self-sacrifice as we charged into the maddened horde.
After we cleaned up, we went for barbeque and then Frankie's, where slicktrack drifting and miniature golf rounded off the day. Later on, a bruised and tired entourage relaxed on Jeromie's deck with beer and laughter. None of us had trouble getting to sleep.
And now there's less than a week until Jeromie ties the knot. Madness! I honestly don't know how I'm going to feel this weekend. It will be strange, for sure.
As for the time surrounding this past weekend, I went down to Charleston Wednesday for a seminar on Thursday about Foreign Trade Zones. It was mildly interesting, although mostly irrelevant for someone without a specific need to know about them. I went at the suggestion of the Director of the SC World Trade Center. I talked to a few people, as was my goal, and even handed out a resume. We'll see what happens, but so far my networking has been successful.
After the conference I went for a walk downtown. I took a table in a coffee shop with some iced Oregon Chai and started small-talk with a man next to me. As we were talking, his rather attrative daughter with cold eyes walked in. When I mentioned that I had studied French, I rather abrubtly learned that she was fluent. We exchanged a few phrases, and the two of them parted. I felt a cold panic the whole time I spoke with her, afraid of not understanding her or knowing how to say what I wanted. Yes, this boy needs to practice speaking his French. I'm not terrible, so why shouldn't I try to be fluent? Becky?
Oh, yes. Arnold got two new games: Paper Mario-the Thousand Year Door and Kirby Air Ride. Air Ride is lots of fun, and quirky to boot, but Paper Mario was the big surprise. To Arnold, specifically, as he didn't realize when he got it that is was an RPG, and he doesn't play RPGs. Or he didn't use to. :)
Turning to more serious matters, my OCD has started to surge recently. On many recent evenings, I'll start to experience a 'funk'. I described it to Jeromie as feeling like someone's watching you (except that you know they're only in your head), and knowing that if you show any weakness, they will devour you. Rather disconcerting. It also makes me feel like all the things in my life, and often my life itself, are meaningless. I'm going to try readjusting my schedule under the supposition that perhaps the gap between the times I take my medicine is allowing for these swings. If that doesn't help, it's back to my creepy shrink.
Oh, before I forget. I watched "Good Night and Good Luck" while I was up at Clemson. For those who are familiar with Edward R. Murrow, you'll excuse my fawning over his masterful articulation and the artistry with which he spoke. For those who aren't familiar, I suggest a rental. It's short, but the writing's good.
Update: completed
Footer image: loading
Awesomeness: intact
Twilight: out
posted by Aisyrn | 12:26 AM
3 Comments:
Oh... my...
Speaking of, I keep forgetting to get pictures to everybody! grr...
Email me a mailing address for Ed or stop by on your way up to the wedding (hah, not likely) or something.
But I did win the award for "most out of shape" as my legs went on protest for a good three days afterwards. The perils of cubicle life...
Mmm... slick track...
not unlike Kirby's Airride. Which I kept. That [i]other[/i] game I bundled with the infamously terrible Gitaroo Man and traded in for Mario Sunshine! It was only $1, and it was brand new in shrinkwrap! Joy of joys! Communal Mario Fun!
Hooray for the Jeromie! Sorry I won't be there. Did you talk to the other concrete place on the way out?
Funny, this. Will has so much to post about and to say, and yet... silence.
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