Saturday was Mark and Tara’s wedding. I don’t want to go too far into it, but I did want to send out a huge congratulations to the newlyweds. Mark looked so happy and I wish them the best.As for me, I learned a valuable lesson. Free drinks does not equate to “all you can drink.” I’m pretty sure that Saturday was the drunkest I’ve been in years.Usually I’m kept on the straight and narrow because of having to drive home, but couplea DD with free scotch and I’m headed for disaster. I’m bruised in no less than fourplaces, one of them pretty much debilitating my whole left shoulder. What’s injuredeven more though is my ego. All in all I feel really really terrible, andthe worst part is that I can’t remember what I did or didn’t do to embarrass myself.Thank you, thank you, Keri for putting up with my drunk ass. I promise to never utterthe words “Never Eat Shredded Wheat” ever again. Aside from all the debauchery, Idid have two special moments of the night … My favorite called me the sweetest name(which isn’t so sweet, but I’m keeping it to myself) and Skippy referred to her andI as the “swallowsof capistrano” mmm :)

I think I won the award for “Most Obscure Phrase Whispered Over The Phone 2003″ last Friday. Personal phone calls are arduous at work because we all work in these solitary confinement cubes that do nothing to protect our privacy. They’re also misleading because you can’t see the guy next to you, so you wrongly assume a certain amount of privacy exists. A good example of this backfiring is when I listen to my headphones and sing Lil Kim - Magic Stick aloud to the IS dept. But anyway, personal phone calls … I rarely make personal calls at work, but Friday I decided to call The Captain for some reason. (or maybe she called me, I forget) I’m on the phone and all I can think of is that it must be so obvious to my neighbors when I go from a normal voice into a whisper. You have to do this because there are some things you just can’t say aloud in the workplace. The winning nominee last Friday was BLAH BLAH BLAH <whisper>handfuls of condoms</whisper> BLAH BLAH. It was a poignant moment because we both stopped for a second and did a double take over the lunacy that is whispering about condoms over an office telephone. SO, if you’re lookin to talk dirty, give me a call. I’m getting pretty good at self editing and being subtle. Just ask for Jeff at extension 166.

You know it’s bad when you start dreaming about work. I had this dream the other night where was I fervently wandering around the office in search of something to write on. I walked into a coworker’s cube where there was a printer and started paging through reams of paper. Every page was blank on the top, but when I’d flip up the corner to peek at the back, there’d be printing all over the other side. So while I’m endlessly paging through stacks of computer paper, Jess the Intern is standing behind me consulting with the aforementioned coworker. All the sudden she starts singing Vanessa Carlton - Ordinary Day. Spontaneously I break out in song as well as we treat the office to a duet. The whole scene resembled a broadway musical as we belted out “just a dream, just an ordinary dream, as I wake in bed .. “What’s peculiar is that we were singing about a dream in my dream. What’s even more peculiar is that I couldn’t tell you the lyrics awake, but in a dream state we knew them like it was our anthem.

I work all day (9 am - 1 am) and return home to find that I haven’t bought food in over month. All I want is something quick to call dinner, but there’s not a single thing in the cupboard. I have condensed soup but no milk. Peanut butter and jelly but no bread. Pasta but no sauce. I have every single condiment known to man, but nothing to put them on. My hopes are dashed when I think I spot a can of soup, but it turns out to be Progresso cannelloni beans. For some reason I keep checking the cupboards thinking something will appear, but alas I’m still as SOL as I was five minutes ago. So right now I sit depressed, hungry and defeated at my computer drinking scotch and eating uncooked pasta dreaming of a McDonalds McGriddle.

There’s nothing I find funnier than a real subtle sexual innuendo. In fact, when I’m out at the bar, I have a habit of tacking ” … that’s what she said” onto everyone’s conversation. While this attempt is amateurish at best, the writers on MostExtreme Elimination are experts. The show is like a cross between American Gladiator,Mystery Science Theater 3000, and Iron Chef. They take this ’80s Japanese game showand dub over it with the funniest stuff you’ve ever heard. I implore you to watchit. It’s laugh out loud funny. And don’t try to think you’re above it. I know theCaptain had prejudices before watching it, but was open minded enough to appease me.And whatdda know, she was laughing too. It’s on fairly often on The New TNN.* *I believea NewYork State injunction prevents me from calling The New TNN by their new name,Spike TV, because Spike Lee is being a crybaby. Who does this guy think he is? Ifthey named it something like Cher TV or Madonna TV, I could understand, but SpikeLee?

Any readers here on friendster? Among thehip, savvy, internet community it’s all the rage. Only everyone I know barely knowswho Zeldman and Nielsen are. So go ahead, sign up for friendster and send me an email:) It’s like Kevin Bacon’s six degrees on crack. ps - my apologies to whomever sentme a friendster request a couple months ago. I don’t know what happened to it.

The most descriptive word to sum up this past weekend is “sloshed.” This refers to both the drunken connotation of the word and the description of “wading through water.” Interestingly enough I was actually portraying the adjective while doing the verb.The Captain and I ventured out to the Mann music center Friday in nothing less than a torrential downpour. We started out at Chilis to kill some time before the Norah Jones concert, and as usual a (probably necessary) heated discussion ensued. Long story short, I’m a dumbass who’s problems are compounded by the fact that I’m very often misunderstood. You may hear differently from others, but I’m positive thatI’m regularly misunderstood (and probably through fault of my own). Once we got theMann you could tell the rain wasn’t going to let up. As the Captain put it, it couldn’thave possible rained any harder. The gestapo at the gates confiscated our $4.99 tealumbrella and herded us back into the rain once we got to the “pavilion”. Thanks guys.So now we’re left with the choice of staying dry or standing in the rain for beer.My strategy was to drink enough beer to counteract the annoyance of the rain. Thankfullyour seats were under cover, but it still didn’t solve soaking trek to the beer andbathroom. When subjected to that much rain, there comes a point where you just embraceyour fate and start to enjoy it. Yes, I was wet and cold, but there was somethingliberating about listening to some good music whilst overcoming the elements. Theconcert and acoustics were good, although I didn’t get to hear my favorite song. TheCaptain kept telling me to be patient that it was going to come during the encore,but alas she never played it. All in all it was a very good night though.

My favorite quote from Dan Appleman’s “Visual Basic.Net or C# … Which to Choose“…

Any of you who feel that the syntax: if() { } Issomehow morally superior to: If … Then End If are fools**Originally I was going to say “full of crap”, but my editor felt it was not professionalenough. Consider it said nonetheless.

My interpretation: VB.NET - betterIDE support via full real-time parsing. C# - still considered the “elite” languagethat can demand a higher salary (although 99% the same as VB.NET) and cool embeddedXML documentation (although available to VB.NET through a VS.NET plug-in.) I callit a draw.

I had such a good driving day today. I didn’t expect it to be a good driving day because I only left work an hour after rush hour. (which I guess would technically be the end of rush hour) I was amazed when I made it all the way to 76 without getting hit by any lights. Usually its a process of waiting in line for the light to change while subjecting surrounding cars to the sound of my twelve inch Infinity Perfect subwoofer and Infinity Kappa components. If I decide to avoid 76 and drive home through the heart of Norristown (the armpit of PA) I always feel a little odd being the token white boy in the expensive car sitting at a light in the pseudo ghetto listening to 50 cent. But I digress … I made it all the way to 76 and I wasn’t about to let my good driving day go to waste. Very rarely do I drive 80 mph in 4th gear, but today was an exception. Gas mileage and engine wear be damned, I needed the torque on a moment’s notice. Which brings me to my next point … do you ever wish that you could have special privileges on the road? I’m convinced that these privileges should be bestowed upon me because I can handle the responsibility. For example, I’ve now gotten off 76 and am traveling north on 476. I’m flying along at 85 mph and come up to a line of traffic. Why three lanes of cars have to drive in tandem I don’t know. (or is that tri-dandem?) In an ideal world my special privileges would come in handy here. I’m driving along pretty much married to the Audi’s bumper in front of me and the whole time I’m wishing that I could use the shoulder. Left or right, I’m open to either. I have this spilt second decision making process where unfortunately superego defeated id in the battle to utilize the shoulder. We all know it’s possible. I could just skirt by on the shoulder as I impishly laugh at the other fools stuck behind the 65 mph moving road block. Obviously I wasn’t that reckless, but I did do some amazing lane changes. Changing lanes at 90 mph on a four lane road is exhilarating because you know there’s that slim chance that the guy two lanes over is going to want to move into the same lane you’re aiming for. After some excellent bobbing and weaving, I’m ready to get off the Blue Route. Again, the good luck driving day kicks in as I barely even have to stop for the requisite stop sign on the exit ramp. The rest of my commute also went swimmingly as I changed lanes last minute to catch a yellow light and got a prime parking spot in my lot. Ahh the joys of my 3000GT. If I had all the money in the world I wouldn’t choose any other car (except for the twin turbo model)

Ihave this tendency to get freakishly obsessed with TV shows and reality TV. This alsoincludes grand delusions such as believing that Katie Holmes is going to mother mychildren one day. For anyone that knows me, I take my TV shows very seriously (ergomy affinity for my beloved TiVo) I am pleased to announce that in the Road Rules/RealWorld category, Mallory of Real World Paris has recently jumped to number one on the”cutest Mtv Reality girl” list. With only an outstanding two episodes by which tojudge, she beats out Cara who subsequently clinched the top spot by getting half nakedwhile somehow still remaining cute about it. Kalle (who by the way would probablywin for cutest personality) comes in third only because Road Rules 4 was so long agoand is fading quickly from my memory. Congratulations Mallory, if for some reasonKatie Holmes makes the wrong decision and marries that dude with the personality ofa 2×4, you’re next in line for the dirty kelso.

The new PhotoBlog site isup. I’m too tired to talk about it … maybe tomorrow. ps - note to self: when Conancomes on for the second time at night, it’s really tme to start thinking aboutgoing to bed.

My askmen.com horoscopesays my likes/dislikes are: Likes

Uncertainty It’s amazing how right-on they are with the wholesomeness and order, but not so much the health food part. The dislikes fit me pretty well, although the “hazards to health” thing goes right out the window when I get behind the wheel of my car.

he he … on my “about” page, I talk aboutmy eyes changing color and about how I used to have a beta fish. The funny thing isthat I’ve been getting alot of hits lately from askjeeves.com.People are asking “why would my beta fish change colors” and ending up at my site.ha ha. I never did have any faith in anything by google.

I’ve had to wait a few days towrite this post. It’s one of those posts that you just can’t write until you’ve hada chance to calm down. I keep telling myself (and others) that I’m a pretty laidback,calm person, but lately I’ve been on the brink of rumbling over silly things. Forexample, the other day I found myself in a heated argument with the PNC bank guy.John B was witness to a conversation that went something like: PNC Bank Guy: “Whydon’t you join PNC bank?” Me: “PNC sucks! Why am I even wasting my time talking toyou? I don’t have time for this shit.” The second near explosion came last Fridaynight at happy hour. There was this guy Carl sitting at the bar and our party wasseated at a table. For some reason he felt the need to interject from like 10 yardsaway on what I should get my dad for Father’s day. Thanks Carl, but I didn’t ask foryour opinion. The guy must have had super sensitive hearing letalone zero manners.But that’s ok, so far Carl was just a minor annoyance, nothing more. Meanwhile I’mtrying to keep an eye on where Balloon Girl went to. (see photo above) Earlier inthe night I fell victim to the resident “poor college student moonlighting as a balloonanimal artist” act. The turn on was surprisingly her vocabulary. With words like “summarization”and “disparaging,” how could a guy not become enamored? That conversation went somethinglike: Balloon Girl: “When I get home at night I smell like latex.” Me:”What does yourboyfriend think of that?” Her: “I don’t have a boyfriend” Me: ear-to-ear grin. Everyoneelse: thinking I was way obvious. Me: thinking they’re never going to believe me whenI tell them I was purposely being obvious. Anyway, while all this was happening, therest of the table was also pretty much tripping over each other to interject the factthat I was interested. Thanks guys, but I don’t need another Carl. So both these situationsare pretty high stress for me. (Hi I’m Jeff, remember me? the guy who has problemsfor people that don’t have any problems?) And then the inevitable happened. Afterpassing Balloon Girl a bunch of times, I finally lured her back to the bar area. Atthe same time F’in Carl wanted to become even more involved in my life. With the forceof nuclear fission, both Balloon Girl and F’in Carl entered my immediate attention.One good stress, one bad stress, both stress nonetheless. F’in Carl felt the needto give Balloon Girl his business card even before I had a chance to. Now I don’tunderstand Carl … someone please tell me what a 45 year old man is doing tryingto pick up a twenty something year old girl? What is that man doing talking to herin the first place? So finally she weasels away from F’in Carl to respond to my prettyobvious beckoning. I’m trying my best to form coherent sentences, but I got Shawnaon my left laughin up a storm at the recent loss of all my conversational facilities.Plus, It’s hard enough converting thoughts into sentences without the incessant starefrom F’in Carl. I’d try to say something funny, she’d kinda give me this blank stare,and in the corner of my eye I see Carl laughing. Man, I wanted to kick in his teeth.We’d see how much smiling Carl’d be doing then. So to make a long story short, I gotthe biggest c-block from a total stranger. Carl, I hope you’re happy. The only upsideto the night was that she did offer me her number. Only she didn’t have any cardsleft. Convenience or not?

Woo hoo! I think I actually created a skin for the site that I like. Surprisingly I threw it together in all of 15 minutes. I was browsing TonyStone, saw the image, and a little while later was actually satisfied. It wentup so fast that I didn’t even check my spelling on the heading. I was worried fora second cause I thought I pushed it live with a glaring spelling error. Click on”going nowhere” on the right side to view it. For those of you who don’t like it,I have two words for you … “spring theme.” Oh yeah, and let’s not tip off Tony tothe blatant copyright infringement. Thanks.