You know what upsets me about my college education??? What upsets me is I can’t for the life of me think of one thing I learned in college that helps me do my job every day. I’ve already talked about how I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up (except for Anthony Bourdain’s stylist and you never see that on Craigslist) and I didn’t know in college either. So instead of learning how to run a business or how to build a skyscraper or how to clone something, I learned… well what’s the complete opposite of those productive things???
Things I learned in college…
A Whole Lot About Jews. You see my minor was history and you have to take a variety of history classes from around the world. Religion and religious people in general fascinate me and for some reason I just always ended up in “Jew class” every semester. I took History of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Ancient Jew Rules Class), Living in the Time of Jesus (Jew Life 101), and How American’s View the Holocaust (How to Deal With Your American Jew Guilt). Now there is a Jewish Studies major at the university that I went to and, as you can probably imagine, there are only so many Jew classes. Therefore I had a lot of the same kids in my Jew classes because the majority of them were Jewish Studies majors. They were like… really Jewish… and kinda rude. I mean these are small classes and you’ve seen the same people in them for the past year and a half, wouldn’t you want to say hi or something??? Not these Jews. My close Jew Friend, who just to confuse you really isn’t Jewish and wasn’t in any of my Jew classes, told me to walk up to them and say Shalom because he thought I could pass for being Israeli. So I walked right up the leader of the group, in his longhorn yamaka, and said Shalom just like Jew Friend (who really isn’t Jewish) told me. I then got the Jew stare… and crickets… But seriously, if you need to know about the ancient Jewish Sects, how to make Jew breed in the desert, or how to compose a symphony or write a comic book about how your family didn’t survive genocide but you did and now you feel guilty… I’m here for you. (I hope the last part of that sentence doesn’t sound like I’m trying to make a joke because A: The Holocaust… not so funny and B: That class was probably the best class I took all five and a half years I was in school. It was extremely interesting and someday I’ll tell you all about it and let you borrow some good books if you too are interested.)
How to Appreciate Beer for Breakfast: I was not exactly a novice of beer drinking when I entered college. I defiantly wasn’t an alcoholic in high school, but I had my share of hung over Sunday breakfasts with the family. I spend two years of high school in Germany where I learned how to drink... legally! But it wasn’t until freshmen year of college until I learned the how Beer for Breakfast might be as awesome as ponies are when you’re eight. Ex Roommate/Ex Best Friend/Now I’m Married to a Complete Raging Lunatic with Teeth Like a Shark used to come into my room in the morning, wake me up by shaking me violently, and hand me a beer. He would have one as well and we would shotgun them together on top of my bed. Loser had to drive to school. I’ll be honest I was never very good and lost the majority of the time, but I swear it was so much easier getting out of bed for Spanish class with a warm Miller Light in my stomach.
Leading Class Discussions in Classes I Know Nothing About: During my second to last semester I took a history class called Medieval Literature. It was on Wednesdays from 3-6. For three hours I sat in a small room in the history building (you remember the one that housed the American Studies department in the attic) and tried to be interested in the book we had to read that week. Yeah, that week… We had to read a new book every week… A new “medieval” book, every week. It kinda crushed my soul. Every Wednesday we came into class and someone in the class would lead the discussion of that week’s book. I was extremely nervous to do this for a few reasons.
Reason #1: Miles. Miles was this nerdy, short history major who on the first day of class before the professor even entered the room stood up and asked everyone what their major was because, “This is a 400 level class and only for history majors because other majors won’t be able to keep up.” Um Bullshit little nerdy dude. The class was also an upper level English class and many majors, including American Studies, requires you to take upper level history classes. He scared one of the only other girls away! Seriously, how bright could she have been, but she got up and left before the professor had even entered the room. Then, that first day our professor passed a paper around with all the books we were going to read and we had to sign our name next to the one we wanted to lead the class discussion for. I picked the only book written by a woman, The Book of Margery Kempe by Margery Kempe. After class I was sitting on a bench in front of the building looking for something in my backpack when Miles sat down next to me and decided to let me know why the book I picked sucked and how hard it will be for me to lead a group of male history majors in an intelligent conversation about a stupid woman for three hours. I knew then he was a little twerp, but he still got to me and made me nervous because as good of a bullshitter that I am… three hours is a long time.
Reason #2: I knew (well still know) nothing about medieval history besides things I’ve learned from Robin Hood, and I don’t think a “how Margery Kempe and Robin Hood were alike” lecture would fly. Seriously I didn’t take a single European history class the entire time I was in school except for Early Christianity (When Jews Rebel) and only then did we sometimes talk about Rome.
Reason #3: I don’t like to look stupid and I was 99.9% sure I was going to make an ass out of myself by talking about the wrong Pope or King or something.
I lucked out one way, though. The book I picked was one of the very last books we were going to discuse meaning I got to see how other people lead the class first. I saw what worked and want didn’t. (Oh, and Mile’s discussion was horrible. Hehe…) When It came my week to bravely step to the front of the room I was totally prepared. I had almost finished skimming the book, but I had read every review and critique I could find online. I had a nice list of open ended questions to talk about and quotations I knew I understood (thanks to Sparknotes) to discuss. What made my lecture the best of the class, seriously at the end of the semester I was called out by our professor for being the best guest lecturer, was that the semester before I had taken an Early Feminist Literature class. Sure, all those boys could talk medieval royalty and monks for days, but none of them knew women writers from the 40’s and 50’s. None of them could answer how Margery Kempe was like Phyllis Wheatley. It was awesome to ask questions that Miles didn’t know the answer to, or questions he couldn’t BS his way out of, and then get recognized by a “400 level history class” professor for doing better than the little history geek in the corner. I’m awesome.
Showing posts with label beer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beer. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
True story in which Boyfriend tries (unsuccessfully) to defend my honor...
One quick thing before today’s post… Hi Mom and Dad. Evidently my parents have been reading this blog secretly. Now, I have no problem with my parents enjoying embarrassing stories about myself, or laughing out loud wondering how they every produced me. But secretly laughing at me??? WFT Mom and Dad. I know I’m not the golden child that calls home EVERY SINGLE DAY (yeah… that’s the type of older sister I have), but we talk on a pretty regular basis, and Dad even has a Facebook account. Make yourself known and bring it up in conversation, or leave a note on my wall, or FOLLOW MY BLOG AND COMMENT!!! Let’s see some support from the parental units.
Boyfriend and I drove down to San Antonio this past weekend to spend some time with my parents. They built a beautiful new pool this summer and Saturday was spent floating, playing Horse with a volleyball because the basketball wouldn’t inflate properly, and just lounging in the sun. It was perfect. That night Mom, Boyfriend, and I were chatting in the living room before bed and Boyfriend brought up this story. I immediately started cracking up because I had forgotten all about it, and knew I had to blog about it on Monday. So here you all are… The Time Boyfriend Stood Up For My Honor And Almost Got Beat Up.
Last summer one night Davis Girl and I decided to meet for a drink in the evening. We meet at The Tavern for a few beers and good girl chat. Being the first person there I found a table for two on the second story deck. It was one of the nicer evening last summer (meaning it wasn’t 110 degrees but maybe only 98. 98 plus misters plus cold beer… very cool evening in Austin.) and I went ahead and ordered a picture of beer and two waters. Davis Girl showed up a few minutes later and we quickly fell into our normal routine of storytelling, bitching about work, and Davis Girls talking about whoever Davis Girl was dating. At some point I had to go to the restroom and I excused myself and went. When I came back there was some guy in my seat. I could tell from the look on Davis Girl’s face that he wasn’t invited to sit down by her. When I reached the table he looked a little annoyed but got up and left. Ten minutes later he walked back onto the deck and sat a few tables away from us with another guy friend. Besides a large table of about seven men and women, we were the only tables occupied on the upper deck at the time. After the first picture of beer Davis Girl has to pee too and leaves the table. As soon as she goes inside, both the original guy who took my seat when I left and his friend pull up chairs close to our table and start talking. (I am horrible with names and didn’t remember them two minutes after they introduced themselves but here they will forever be referred to as Some Dude and Ass Hole.)
Davis Girl, Some Dude, Ass Hole, and I get started talking about God knows what. It becomes apparent that Ass Hole is quite a bit drunker than the rest of us. Even after a shot or two there is no way we are going to catch up with this guy anytime soon. Twenty minutes or so later this is what’s happening…
Davis Girl: “And then we look into the beakers and blah, blah, science talk, blah…”
Me: “Students, students, something smart and witty, students…”
Some Dude: “Davis Girl you are so smart… and pretty… and I want to do dirty things it you…”
Ass Hole: “I’m drunk.”
Ass Hole then decides to move the evening along by standing up picking up my giant glass of water that hadn’t been touched because, come on, we had a picture of beer, and pour it in my lap. It was the most nonchalant action ever. Some person might have pointed to the dark clouds in the distance and said something about it raining soon. Ass Hole poured a whole glass of water on me and made a comment about my pants being wet. Thoughts poured (pun totally intended) through my head…
I know I can sometimes be a snarky bitch… what did I say to piss off Ass Hole.
Wait, he just poured water on me… on a girl… WFT Ass Hole???
Quick think of something smart… think of something clever… quick say something…
“What? Water… Me… Pour… Pants… Ass Hole…” I hate that in times of confrontation I turn into a stuttering second grader with a dirty mouth.
Davis Girl: “What the Fuck you Ass Hole? Who do you think you are? What kind of man pours water on a lady? Where were you raised because this is Texas and people know better and have better manners here?” Turning to Some Dude… “You need to get your friend out of here right now. He is drunk and a complete dick and…(so on and so on…)”
Davis Girl is one of those girls who not only could, but would probably like to kick some butt in a bar. I feel like everyone should have a friend who knows how to fight and stand up for you. I am totally not that friend. I would get hurt and I don’t like pain. Davis girl is that friend and totally has my back. Maybe one day I’ll blog about the time she almost got into a fist fight with the one black girl in our high school over a PT Cruiser in McDonald’s parking lot senior year. It’s epic.
Some Dude and Ass Hole quickly leave. (Like I said Davis Girl is scary) A girl from the only other table occupied on the deck comes over with some extra napkins shaking her head and making comments like, “how dare he” and “Who the Hell does he think he is…” I clean up, which wasn’t hard because I had come from work and was wearing black triacetate Ann Taylor pants which are practically waterproof. Davis Girl and I pay the bill and as we’re walking to our cars the whole ridiculousness and absurdity gets to us and we start cracking up. We both sit down on the curb and laugh about how crap like this would happen to me. We aren’t ready to call it a night and go home so Davis Girl suggests we drive a mile down Lamar to The Saloon, another neighborhood bar.
As I am in my car following Davis Girl, I call Boyfriend to invite him to meet us at The Saloon for a drink.
Boyfriend: I thought you were going to The Tavern?
Me: We had to leave The Tavern.
Boyfriend: What do you mean? Why?
Me: (tell him long story…) blah, blah, blah, Ass Hole, Blah, water in lap.
Boyfriend: WFT???
Me: blah, blah, blah, Ass Hole, Blah, Water in…
Boyfriend: I head you the first time, but why would he do that?
Me: I don’t know… I swear I didn’t say anything either!!!
Boyfriend: What was his name?
Me: I can’t remember
Boyfriend: Well, what did he look like?
Me: Um… he had dark hair… and was wearing a red polo shirt… yeah… pretty sure it was a red and black strip polo shirt… Why?
Boyfriend: No reason… Sure I would love to meet you and Davis Girl. I just have to stop by the house to change clothes first.
Me: Okay. See you in a bit. Bye.
Davis Girl and I get to The Saloon and order new drinks. It’s busy and we end up sitting on the curb outside waiting for a table to open and Boyfriend to arrive. As much as we try to go back to bitching about work we just keep reminiscing about the “water in lap” incident. 30 Minutes later Boyfriend arrives, goes straight to the bar and orders a stiff drink. When he comes outside to great us this is what he says,
Boyfriend: I went to The Tavern to defend your honor but I threw water on the wrong guy so I don’t think I worked.
Me: hu?
Boyfriend then tells me this story… “I really didn’t have to go home and change and I was already on my way to meet y’all at The Tavern. You told me what the guy looked like so I was just going to drop in and see if he was still there. Yeah, I know you said he left but I figured maybe they just went inside or down stairs to get away from you two. I walked outside on the upper deck and I saw him. Brown headed dude in a red striped polo shirt. My first thought was “oh shit, he’s still here” but it quickly turned to “what should I do now???” I didn’t think the guy would actually still be there but he was and I had to make a decision. So I went back inside to the bar, ordered a large ice water, walked back outside, taped the guy on his shoulder, and when he turned around I said “Next time you’ll think twice about throwing water on other people’s girlfriends.” And I poured the entire glass of water down the front of his shirt.”
OMG.
I love my boyfriend.
Please imagine this… you are sitting calmly with your group of friends having a few beers at the bar. You see some random chick get water thrown on (yes this was the same group that occupied the only other table on the deck) and thirty minutes later some crazy lunatic is pouring water all over you like some insane minister baptizing the whole bar. I would have paid a large amount of money to be a fly on the wall and witnessed this. Duh, the guy from the large group was pissed that Boyfriend had just emptied his giant cup of revenge onto his new GAP polo. He stands up, pushes Boyfriend, and takes a punch. Now, anyone who knows Boyfriend knows A: he’s not a fighter and B: he is shifty and fast as Hell (you should see him play water volleyball). Boyfriend just barely leans back enough to miss having his nose broken while the other guy’s friends hold him back and try to explain to Boyfriend what happened.
Five minutes later random group of people including “innocent guy who got water thrown on him” and Boyfriend were all taking shots together and laughing... yup, Boyfriend is that guy. He’s the guy that can make lifelong friends in five minute, even after pouring water on an innocent guy at the bar. On the other hand, I’m the girl that gets water thrown on her with no apology. But, then again I’m the girl whose boyfriend tries to defend her honor, which is kinda awesome…. Wash.
Boyfriend and I drove down to San Antonio this past weekend to spend some time with my parents. They built a beautiful new pool this summer and Saturday was spent floating, playing Horse with a volleyball because the basketball wouldn’t inflate properly, and just lounging in the sun. It was perfect. That night Mom, Boyfriend, and I were chatting in the living room before bed and Boyfriend brought up this story. I immediately started cracking up because I had forgotten all about it, and knew I had to blog about it on Monday. So here you all are… The Time Boyfriend Stood Up For My Honor And Almost Got Beat Up.
Last summer one night Davis Girl and I decided to meet for a drink in the evening. We meet at The Tavern for a few beers and good girl chat. Being the first person there I found a table for two on the second story deck. It was one of the nicer evening last summer (meaning it wasn’t 110 degrees but maybe only 98. 98 plus misters plus cold beer… very cool evening in Austin.) and I went ahead and ordered a picture of beer and two waters. Davis Girl showed up a few minutes later and we quickly fell into our normal routine of storytelling, bitching about work, and Davis Girls talking about whoever Davis Girl was dating. At some point I had to go to the restroom and I excused myself and went. When I came back there was some guy in my seat. I could tell from the look on Davis Girl’s face that he wasn’t invited to sit down by her. When I reached the table he looked a little annoyed but got up and left. Ten minutes later he walked back onto the deck and sat a few tables away from us with another guy friend. Besides a large table of about seven men and women, we were the only tables occupied on the upper deck at the time. After the first picture of beer Davis Girl has to pee too and leaves the table. As soon as she goes inside, both the original guy who took my seat when I left and his friend pull up chairs close to our table and start talking. (I am horrible with names and didn’t remember them two minutes after they introduced themselves but here they will forever be referred to as Some Dude and Ass Hole.)
Davis Girl, Some Dude, Ass Hole, and I get started talking about God knows what. It becomes apparent that Ass Hole is quite a bit drunker than the rest of us. Even after a shot or two there is no way we are going to catch up with this guy anytime soon. Twenty minutes or so later this is what’s happening…
Davis Girl: “And then we look into the beakers and blah, blah, science talk, blah…”
Me: “Students, students, something smart and witty, students…”
Some Dude: “Davis Girl you are so smart… and pretty… and I want to do dirty things it you…”
Ass Hole: “I’m drunk.”
Ass Hole then decides to move the evening along by standing up picking up my giant glass of water that hadn’t been touched because, come on, we had a picture of beer, and pour it in my lap. It was the most nonchalant action ever. Some person might have pointed to the dark clouds in the distance and said something about it raining soon. Ass Hole poured a whole glass of water on me and made a comment about my pants being wet. Thoughts poured (pun totally intended) through my head…
I know I can sometimes be a snarky bitch… what did I say to piss off Ass Hole.
Wait, he just poured water on me… on a girl… WFT Ass Hole???
Quick think of something smart… think of something clever… quick say something…
“What? Water… Me… Pour… Pants… Ass Hole…” I hate that in times of confrontation I turn into a stuttering second grader with a dirty mouth.
Davis Girl: “What the Fuck you Ass Hole? Who do you think you are? What kind of man pours water on a lady? Where were you raised because this is Texas and people know better and have better manners here?” Turning to Some Dude… “You need to get your friend out of here right now. He is drunk and a complete dick and…(so on and so on…)”
Davis Girl is one of those girls who not only could, but would probably like to kick some butt in a bar. I feel like everyone should have a friend who knows how to fight and stand up for you. I am totally not that friend. I would get hurt and I don’t like pain. Davis girl is that friend and totally has my back. Maybe one day I’ll blog about the time she almost got into a fist fight with the one black girl in our high school over a PT Cruiser in McDonald’s parking lot senior year. It’s epic.
Some Dude and Ass Hole quickly leave. (Like I said Davis Girl is scary) A girl from the only other table occupied on the deck comes over with some extra napkins shaking her head and making comments like, “how dare he” and “Who the Hell does he think he is…” I clean up, which wasn’t hard because I had come from work and was wearing black triacetate Ann Taylor pants which are practically waterproof. Davis Girl and I pay the bill and as we’re walking to our cars the whole ridiculousness and absurdity gets to us and we start cracking up. We both sit down on the curb and laugh about how crap like this would happen to me. We aren’t ready to call it a night and go home so Davis Girl suggests we drive a mile down Lamar to The Saloon, another neighborhood bar.
As I am in my car following Davis Girl, I call Boyfriend to invite him to meet us at The Saloon for a drink.
Boyfriend: I thought you were going to The Tavern?
Me: We had to leave The Tavern.
Boyfriend: What do you mean? Why?
Me: (tell him long story…) blah, blah, blah, Ass Hole, Blah, water in lap.
Boyfriend: WFT???
Me: blah, blah, blah, Ass Hole, Blah, Water in…
Boyfriend: I head you the first time, but why would he do that?
Me: I don’t know… I swear I didn’t say anything either!!!
Boyfriend: What was his name?
Me: I can’t remember
Boyfriend: Well, what did he look like?
Me: Um… he had dark hair… and was wearing a red polo shirt… yeah… pretty sure it was a red and black strip polo shirt… Why?
Boyfriend: No reason… Sure I would love to meet you and Davis Girl. I just have to stop by the house to change clothes first.
Me: Okay. See you in a bit. Bye.
Davis Girl and I get to The Saloon and order new drinks. It’s busy and we end up sitting on the curb outside waiting for a table to open and Boyfriend to arrive. As much as we try to go back to bitching about work we just keep reminiscing about the “water in lap” incident. 30 Minutes later Boyfriend arrives, goes straight to the bar and orders a stiff drink. When he comes outside to great us this is what he says,
Boyfriend: I went to The Tavern to defend your honor but I threw water on the wrong guy so I don’t think I worked.
Me: hu?
Boyfriend then tells me this story… “I really didn’t have to go home and change and I was already on my way to meet y’all at The Tavern. You told me what the guy looked like so I was just going to drop in and see if he was still there. Yeah, I know you said he left but I figured maybe they just went inside or down stairs to get away from you two. I walked outside on the upper deck and I saw him. Brown headed dude in a red striped polo shirt. My first thought was “oh shit, he’s still here” but it quickly turned to “what should I do now???” I didn’t think the guy would actually still be there but he was and I had to make a decision. So I went back inside to the bar, ordered a large ice water, walked back outside, taped the guy on his shoulder, and when he turned around I said “Next time you’ll think twice about throwing water on other people’s girlfriends.” And I poured the entire glass of water down the front of his shirt.”
OMG.
I love my boyfriend.
Please imagine this… you are sitting calmly with your group of friends having a few beers at the bar. You see some random chick get water thrown on (yes this was the same group that occupied the only other table on the deck) and thirty minutes later some crazy lunatic is pouring water all over you like some insane minister baptizing the whole bar. I would have paid a large amount of money to be a fly on the wall and witnessed this. Duh, the guy from the large group was pissed that Boyfriend had just emptied his giant cup of revenge onto his new GAP polo. He stands up, pushes Boyfriend, and takes a punch. Now, anyone who knows Boyfriend knows A: he’s not a fighter and B: he is shifty and fast as Hell (you should see him play water volleyball). Boyfriend just barely leans back enough to miss having his nose broken while the other guy’s friends hold him back and try to explain to Boyfriend what happened.
Five minutes later random group of people including “innocent guy who got water thrown on him” and Boyfriend were all taking shots together and laughing... yup, Boyfriend is that guy. He’s the guy that can make lifelong friends in five minute, even after pouring water on an innocent guy at the bar. On the other hand, I’m the girl that gets water thrown on her with no apology. But, then again I’m the girl whose boyfriend tries to defend her honor, which is kinda awesome…. Wash.
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