I didn't keep up with it, because I just don't really do "keeping up" with things, but I'm here to bring it back. Hopefully in a more positive, productive light this time. Below is the full text of all documented points thus far in the competition. I'll carry on where I left off.
0-0
The world and I have been playing this game for 19 years, 9 months, 8 days, and 4 hours, and 29 minutes at the time of this writing. Only now have I begun to keep score.
I revoke all points I've scored on the grounds that they have not been properly documented. Of course, I also will assume the authority to revoke all points scored by the opposition on those same grounds.
Here we go. All tied up at zero. First to 1,000 wins.
Begin.
1-0
One points awarded to the world for the slowness of drying machines. I need my work shirt to not be wet anymore so I can go make the money.
2-0
Apparently, I'm the only one at my job who doesn't know how to open a bottle of wine.
I've recently begun a serving job. We've got an extensive wine collection. Four of my tables ordered bottles of wine today, and I had to open them, as a server does. So I'm griping about all this after work and everyone I tell the story to knows exactly how it's done. In this just a selection of common knowledge that I missed out on while growing up?
One of the ladies at one of my tables ended up taking the bottle from me and opening it herself. Oy.
2-1
After learning that I missed out on some wine opening knowledge, I bought two bottles. A chardonnay and a pinot grigiot. And with some helpful instruction from the bartender at work and from my roommates, I adequately and even gracefully opened those two bottles and drank them. A point goes to me.
2-2
Landed a job interview at a mighty nice movie theatre. Heading over there right now with my one year of movie theatre experience, a some Stalone confidence, and a little bit of scruff.
5-4
At last count, the score was 2-2.
I'm a waiter. Last night I lucked out with a full section! 2-3.
A full section of Europeans. Those folks don't tip. 3-3.
Oh, and they only spoke French. "Je voudrais du thé glacé." And I'm like, "Euh... glacé... I remember this from French II. Ice cream?" And they're like, "Oui, oui." "I'm sorry, we don't have ice cream. Nous n'avons pas de glace." "Non, non, pas 'glace.' J'ai dit 'thé glacé.'
Iced tea." God dammit, say it in English the first time if you know
how. Similar exchanges took place between me and each of the 36
francophones I served. 4-3.
After that annoying night of work, it was lovely to get completely hammered with my dear friends 4-4.
But that led to waking up five minutes after I was supposed to be in philosophy class. 5-4.
After that annoying night of work, it was lovely to get completely hammered with my dear friends 4-4.
But that led to waking up five minutes after I was supposed to be in philosophy class. 5-4.
7-4
As stated earlier, I was late to my philosophy class. I usually skip that class. I went today because I thought it was a review day. It wasn't, I just had to sit through my fart of a teacher go on about William James and Soren Kierkegaard.
Please allow me a brief aside. Philosophy is the most useless discipline of the entire common curriculum. I understand that studying people's thoughts on life and justice and morality and god might be interesting, but I do not see what purpose this serves. I can read as much Marx or Plato as I want, but my ideas on those things are probably not going to change. And I think it's boring, too.
So the world gets a point because I thought I needed to go to class, but I didn't need to, and I ended up going anyway. 6-4.
But the world gets another point. After I got out of philosophy at 10:45, I waited around school for my 3:30 class. I found out at 3 that it was cancelled. 7-4.
7-5
It's been a year. We'll count that year as a time-out, because there's absolutely no way I can count all the points that the world and I each scored. So here' almost a year later, I declare the score to be 7-5.
This week I got my shit STRAIGHT. If I've ever said a word to you, you know that I cannot stand school. I honestly feel like I wouldn't care if I never owned property, worked in a coffee shop, and wrote blogs and poetry for the rest of my life. I'd have no credit, no spouse, no children, no money, and no responsibility.
That was how I used to think. Now I kind of see that I kind of like having responsibility. And how am I ever going to get the house I want if I don't own property? Even if I find it, the owners could stop renting it whenever they please. And I really do not want to work in customer service or any non-skilled profession because I hate manual labor, and I hate people. There, I said it.
I'm gonna teach English, y'all. At my high school. And write in the mean time. And English teachers need degrees. So I'm gonna get mine and quit griping about "Oh, but I work full time and go to school full time, and the other people in my classes are just doing well because their daddies pay for their food, booze, and Coach purses, and I'm .... I'm ... "
I can summarize my attitude for the past three years in five words: I don't give a shit. But now, I don't give a shit if I don't give a shit. I'm gonna give a shit. I'm gonna give plenty of shits.
7-6
I get a point for dressing as a cowboy and playing with some 0–3 year-olds at their Halloween party. And then for getting trashed at noon. And then for going to work at 4, trashed, and still performing well. And then for not going to the Seahorse Saloon, but staying in and watching Night of the Living Dead.
8-6
The world gets a point for my belligerent drunkenness last night on All Hallows' Eve. I had trouble finding my way back home, and according to Dennis, I was nearly hit by several cars as I biked down Esplanade, no fault of theirs. I had a great night, though, so I'll keep my head up high.
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