Wax On, Wax Off

Well hello there, folks! It's been a minute.

I spent the past two weeks at home doing the home things and it was awesome. I'm currently sitting in bed, trying to decide what's worse, waxing on... or waxing off....

I left here EARLY, believe it or not. I was sitting in a meeting Thursday afternoon when the bossman mentioned that he usually flies out early FRIDAY morning, as opposed to Saturday morning. Which got me thinking.... did that ticket say 8 or 9? So during the meeting, I look up the email I received with the flight information on it and ask myself... What's today? Holy crap! Apparently, I can't read time vs date and realize I leave Mumbai in about 8 hours! Yay and holy shit all at the same time! I haven't packed jack and I'm so anxious to leave, I KNOW I'm going to forget something. I rush to my room and pack the entire thing in about 45 minutes while drinking the bottle of vodka I had bought the weekend before. Not too shabby, but too small of a bottle. Dug into the bottle of whiskey and realized why that shit was so cheap. Tasted like dirty tea water. Had A glass and gave the rest to J Buck as a gift.

The flight to Frankfort was non-existent. Slept the ENTIRE way. Even had a middle seat but didn't care much because the only time I got up was to gather my things and head to the terminal. Got the the Lounge and noticed something. What the eff was that awful smell??? And then I realized.... that awful smell was coming from me. I smelt like I had run a 5k in my button up, swam in the Trinity River, and then ate dirty towels. I wouldn't even sit next to me if I had to. Thank the Lord someone advised me to put a shirt in my carry-on that I DIDN'T take out in India as a precaution for such an occasion. Changed into a t-shirt that was a tad too small but DIDN'T care because it smelled like detergent rather than lake water.

Got home at 2:30pm and looked like poop. My long ass hair was all curled up like a baby turd, my pants were a wrinkled mess, my eyes looked like I hadn't slept in 6 weeks (probably cause I HADN'T) but the grin on my face took the place off all of that. Spent the night with B and Nathan and Travis and Amanda, Sherlocks style. Already....

Saturday was spent at a bday party for the famous Christy Beaver a.k.a Coco on the Radio. Had a blast and WAY too much to drink. Ended the night with a Christy/Roger emotional talk as always. So awesome.

Most of the rest of the week was spent moving into, what I'm told, is an adult apartment. Bigger, more expensive, and WAY nicer than any of my others. I actually have adult art on the wall (I mean pictures, not naked people) and matching furniture and shit. It's wild. I DO, however, have my music room that looks tight as hell. All it needs now are instruments. (Hint hint... bday coming soon. Just saying).

Spent the first part of the week moving me in and the rest moving Bryan in. Which made for an AWESOME week of workout but still look an Ethiopian after a bowl of rice. Stupid stomach issues....

Went to Austin the following weekend to celebrate my boy's bday with Andrew. Andrew and I hadn't done that in so long, it was pretty bad ass to catch up and actually talk on the way there. Stopped for some beef jerky and got pretty effing hammered while we were down there. Started early, ended late, and that's all that mattered. I did drink enough to eat pizza that night. And I'm STILL paying for it now. No lie. This ulcerative proctitis ain't no joke. Good times either way. The way back was a lot quieter than the way down there. Could have been because of Mr Hangover, but hey... whatever. Good times.

Had a nice break from the Indian life. Got to eat some stuff I know what it consists of, got to hang out with some awesome people, sing some karaoke, drive my car, and hang out with some awesome people. Did I say that already?

Arrived back in Mumbai early Monday morning. Slept just a tad and headed to the new work schedule: 2pm to 12am. Eeek... less dranking time for THIS nigga. That's ok. May be good for me. Or I could get really pissed at people and cut someone.

Eh. We'll see.

To get a little serious on that ass....

I've been thinking lately about how stupid I can be. One of those, I know what I'm doing wrong and I keep doing it. Why? Because it feels good for about 10 minutes and then I feel like running into a patch of cacti naked with a boner. Which brings the question: wax on? Or wax off?

Waxing on:

Doing what I've been preaching for the past almost 10 years of my life - do whatever makes you happy because no one else will. Only YOU know what it is that makes you happy; that makes you smile; that makes you wanna sing show tunes in the privacy of your own room. So I'd say do it! Do whatever peels your potato; whatever floats your turd; whatever yanks your chain; whatever fries your bologna. Because ultimately, we don't have a lot of time here and you may as well be smiling while you're here. The only problem with that is, when you do whatever makes YOU happy, you have to realize the consequences. Whatever makes YOU happy doesn't always make other people happy. It doesn't always coincide with other people's feelings or emotions. And that can sometime be dangerous and hurtful and malicious. And who wants that kind of karma? It's like eating a bowl of beans before a road trip: sure it is delicious and filling but what comes next? You're in a car with 4 people and no one can breathe for 3 hours because SOMEONE had to eat the musical fruit. Not fair. But so what? You had fun...

So what next? Wax off....

Do what makes you happy for 10 minutes? Or realize that the 10 minutes of happiness you're feeling now doesn't even COMPARE to the days of anger and frustration you'll feel afterward? Realizing that your actions now will only be reflected in the things that are to come later - THAT'S the ticket. Knowing that whatever you decide to do now may suck so bad, it feels like eating pizza with an intestinal problem (HELLO!), but when its over, you still feel good enough to keep on trucking. And maybe... just maybe... the next time it comes around, you'll be just a little bit stronger to move on. Because you know what, that long lasting, tastes so good you'll slap your mama, blissful, beautiful peace you feel when you DON'T do it anymore is WAY better than those 10 minutes. Those 10 minutes are like a fat girl eating a Mini M&M-you know a lot more would be great, but its going to take a LOT of Minis to equal the feeling you feel when you can walk up on a curb and not start sweating. You know what I'm saying?

Wax on all you want to, baby... but waxing off? That's for me, nigga.

Until next time....

I Still Hate Kids

Oh man. Last weekend here before I get to home. And what a good one.

Friday after work, we went to Hard Rock Cafe - Mumbai, by way of TGIFridays. Ha. Margarita after margarita, joke after joke, chicken wing after chicken wing, it was pretty fun. By the time we got to Hard Rock, I was just a little bit tipsy. So we did it up right and ordered a Jack and seven and a shot of some sort. Tasted like I Vicks, but hey - I had a cold anyway. The music was FANTASTIC and the entertainment wasn't far behind. At one point, they gathered every employee in the place - bartenders, waiters, chefs, and door guys - and had them get up on the wall and do the YMCA. Now... I know this isn't America, but it makes me wonder if they really think we still do that there. The last time I've seen anyone do the YMCA, I was hiding a boner in my Jordache jeans, watching my fellow junior high students dance around. (Whom am I kidding - I had to look up how to even spell Jordache. My shit was cheaper than... well, a pair of Jordache jeans in 2011) When we left there, the lot of us, except for our driver, was pretty effing hammered. So much so that a certain accompanying party, who shall remain nameless, unprofessionally got off on the wrong floor. But that's neither here nor there...

Saturday, J Buck and I went back to R City Mall where I continued to search for shoes that met my needs. If you know me, I'm a ridiculously picky person - a lot of the times, to my own demise. Buying shoes just adds to this. I have to have a certain style, shape, color, and design. And if I can't find it, I'll continue to wear the same shoes I've been wearing for the past 19 years. Which, if you've seen my shoes now, you know I'm not kidding. The ones I wear daily now I didn't even buy - I got them from Marco and I effing love them. I have been eyeing them since HE bought them so when he asked if I wanted them, I pretty much yanked them out of his hand and put them on immediately. It didn't help that when I asked about some shoes that I almost wanted, the sales guy had no idea what the heck I was asking. I asked if they had these certain shoes in any other color, he said, "just black". And I don't want black shoes because I already HAVE black shoes. I wanted some other color. So I put them back. And he says, "How about these?". I said, "No, I don't want black". And he picks up another pair and says, "maybe these?" I said, "No, I don't really want black". After he picked up every black pair of shoes on the wall, I ended up just walking away before I slapped him with the pair of black shoes I WAS ALREADY WEARING. Anyway, I ended up buying more socks and no shoes. Eh.
I also bought wall art for my soon to be music room in my new apartment. It's going to be effing bad ass. Just wish they weren't so freaking expensive. I don't like spending money on crap like that. AND, as before, if you've seen my crappy furniture, you know it's true. Either hand-me-down or bought cheaply, I don't spend money on material goods. I spend my money on things that mean something. Like alcohol. Speaking of, I bought a bottle of vodka called White Mischief. Ha. Awesome.
Hey. It makes memories. Don't judge me.
We went to eat at the Rainforest again - where I realized that the waitstaff does NOT speak English. Again, they thought I spoke Hindi and I ended up just getting whatever drink they THOUGHT I wanted instead of what I ordered. I'm not sure if I've EVER gotten anything I've ordered since I've been here. I just end up agreeing to whatever they want to give me and roll with it. Which reminds me... I'm hungry....

Sunday, we got pretty bored so we went to hang out at Chili's. Where I have come to realize that I still hate kids.
First of all, the waiter comes up and says, "Hi, mine name is Chris".
Naw, nigga. It's not. I promise.
As we were sitting there enjoying another drink that didn't satisfy my needs, they started setting up for a party. With balloons. Which meant, little rugrats were about to invade the one place I could feel like I was at home. As the small little shits started piling it, the balloons started bursting. Probably by mistake at first, but damnit... that mess was on purpose towards the end. Now, you can't be sending me to a foreign country, that JUST had a terrorist attack a couple of months before, pop some motherf'ing balloons behind me, and not expect me to freak out a little bit. And to add to it, it was by little ankle biting, curtain climbers that kept running around the restaurant like they were at grandma's house. I swear I was about to trip one of them.
Disclaimer: if you are reading this and you have kids, let me clarify. I like my friend's kids. One, because they are my friend's kids. Two, because I can go home. And three, because I can go home. They're usually cute - I don't hang out with ugly people - and well behaved. But once I get around some little fools that ain't got no manners, I want to slap their mamas.
Also at this Chili's, I notice a table across from us that has sent their food back 3 times. All because the bitch was complaining about EVERYTHING and the dude had to deal with it. I could tell that he had a problem with her complaining as well because they started arguing once "Chris" left. To the point where after they finally got something sufficient enough to eat, she sat there pouting while he ate it. This is why I hate bitches. I wanted to shake her until her stupid frown fell off and I could step on it. Felt sorry for the guy. But... he's still with her so. Whateva, nigga.

Today is the 4th of July. And if you're wondering, no. There was no fireworks show here in Mumbai. Unless you count the fire that started from my air conditioner. Burn marks on the wall and all. Hole in the curtains. Awesome. All I have to be thankful for is the power probably went out and it stopped the fire. Ha. Find that silver lining somewhere.

I'll be home on Saturday!! Celebrating Christy's bday in Ft Worth Saturday night and having a typical Sunday with B before I move into my new apt on Monday and Tuesday. I am retarded excited about all of that. I'm gonna be one hungry, smelly, smiling son of a bitch around 3pm on Saturday. HOLLA!!

Until next time....