Where Have I Been?

In semi-retirement. Which is not as physically comfortable as all out retirement, but much more comfortable financially. I had a three day temp job to try and reacquaint myself with waking up before 9 am, wearing belts and shoes for the first time in months, and dusting off my Hall of Fame excel spreadsheet skills. Beautifully enough, the job was at a magazine publishing company oozing with well put together females. In fact, the lunch hour scenery was so magnificent I finally put an end to my 7 year hatred for cafeterias. There is little better way to spend a lunch hour than staring at professional women in business suits and choosing between the onion rings or the shepherd's pie. Unfortunately, this also means working for women which can be positive for the aforementioned reasons, or negative because of the overwhelmingly high levels of estrogen present.

I wasn't the only temp to start on Thursday. Rich was there too. But he was gone on the first day after being screamed at by a female "director" for not transferring a call correctly. On the second day I felt proud to still be there in the morning but also realized that the world of temp work is cutthroat and I would have to adjust. Some other kid was there on Friday, but he too did not return for the full three day assignment. Nope, only Jimmy survived the reality contest that was "The Temp" and completed the full three day assignment. Not that my road to the championship was filled with peaches and gravy. The following interaction occured on Friday with the lady I was working for:

Boss: "Do you know that you should be coming in to give me my messages?"
Jimmy: "Yes."
Boss: "Is that a message you are writing for me?"
Jimmy: "Yes."
Boss: "Why didn't you get up and walk over to my office with it?"
Jimmy: "Because you were not in your office."
Boss: "I still expect you to come to my office with my messages."
Jimmy: "Even if I know you are not in there, I am supposed to get up from my desk, walk in the doorway and check anyway?"
Boss: "Don't FUCK with me!"
Jimmy: "How can you be so obtuse?"

I was then sent to "the hole" for the weekend, which is why I have not posted in so long.

Actually the last "obtuse" line was made up for effect, but the rest of the conversation actually took place. Surprisingly she turned out to be very cool and I wanted to make out with her very badly, which thankfully did not get in the way of me performing All Star caliber temp work.

One final note- for one, Buckwheat Zydeco is playing in town on Friday night. Bucker is the premier party/boozin music and previous concerts have led to antics like Co spontaneously jumping up from the crowd onto stage at the House of Blues to bang on the keyboard. If you like eating jerky and drinking shots, this is the place to be. Second- BJ (an allstar from Vegas '03, Lobsterfest/Burgerfest, and this past New Years) will be in town for his 25th birthday. We will be celebrating at our palace (not a misprint) first and then heading out to ensure he is shaking through the uncontrollable laughs on Super Bowl Sunday. If nobody shows up to my second NYC get together I am officially moving home. Close friends Jenna and Barbara Bush are rumored to be attending.

6 Days- PATS YEAR ROUND.

I Think My Time Has Come

It is possible that the time has come. The possibility of the most perfect fit fell right at my feet, I stared at it blankly for a few minutes, and then it hit me- I might actually leave retirement and apply for a job!

The Sports Guy is running a contest to be his new intern which is right in my wheelhouse. The job qualifications:

-Be available for emails from 10am-2pm every day. Check
-Be between the ages of 21-25. Right on the border but, check.
-Surf 30-40 newspapers and websites every morning for the best links. I already do this, get no recognition, nor a paycheck. Check.
-Work 25-30 hours a week. We'll call it "Semi-Retired at 25." Check.

Now it's a matter of wooing the panel of judges by coming up with a 200-400 word essay to get selected. I should mention that the last time I tried out for an ESPN gig (Dream Job), I sweated in line for over 5 hours in 90 degree L.A. weather for a shot. While I did ace the sports trivia portion of the tryout, I unfortunately turned into Kenyon Martin while trying to deliver a Sportscenter-like monologue and was sent packing. However, I think my refined blogging skills can only help to catapult me out of retirement.

Going to work on my essay...

To Dine or Not to Dine

Apparently it is "Restaurant Week" here in New York City, which I have no concept of since I am retired and only eat ham sandwiches at every meal. Speaking of sandwiches, an entry into the Hall of Fame of Sandwiches was created this past Sunday by Co. A magician in the kitchen, Co routinely works wonders with cold cuts and the toaster oven. On Sunday, however, he stepped completely out of bounds with a Peanut Butter and Crouton sandwich. I am not making this up (a picture will follow) and actually laughed myself to sleep last night thinking of it. These were no ordinary croutons either, they were the Pepperidge Farm Generous Cuts, heavily seasoned. This gives you a glimpse into the eating habits of our apartment.

As I was saying this is restaurant week, which I could never afford to handle even on the reduced prices, as my retirement pension is far too meager. That being said, there are plans in the making for young Jimmy and an even younger female to spend an evening on the town this week and this could pose a problem. In days gone by, I was known to woo the females with a strict diet of alcohol. However, that was in Boston where all the girls are high school-aged...I mean college aged(at least the ones I pursued) and the idea of a gentleman-on-the-make buying them anything but the Miller-Lite draft at Mary Ann's was cause for severe moisture. Now, however, I am in NYC where girls expect Tiffany boxes just to get them to open their cell phone, let alone their pants. Normally I would never have thought about taking any girl out for dinner until I read Bernie's post mentioning the fact that it is Restaurant Week, which is every NYC girl's secret agenda to find a sucker (read: me) to take them to dinner. I've essentially already made my decision to wine instead of dine, however if I am completely in the wrong here and this girl is expecting the dinner, please inform me as I would very much like to break out the paws on this young nubile.

Pats Year Round

Bruschi
Originally uploaded by blogjimmy.

Question: Who is the best team in the history of the NFL?

Answer: The New England Patriots

I think it was made official yesterday that the Pats are the most dominant NFL franchise in recent memory. Holding the prolific Colts offense to 3 points? Blowing out the 4th team to go 15-1 in league history on the road? All of this without arguably their two best defenders? Mercy! Mercy indeed.

And as much love as I have for DNabb5, this might be the biggest Super Bowl rout since my Chargers were lambasted by the 49ers 11 years ago. That's how confident I feel in the Patriots right now.

Pick: Pats 37-7.

My Chat with Keith

My sportsbook account has not allowed me to log in since Monday. This keeps me away from online Craps which is probably a positive, although I have caved in and phoned in bets in the meanwhile. However, it's been 5 days and I am on the verge of breaking down so I clicked on 24/7 "Techincal Help" and here's what happened:

Please wait for a site operator to respond. You are now chatting with 'Keith'

James: I have not been able to log in for 5 days. I have been walked through all the techincal stuff and it still isn't working. I think it might be something with my login
Keith: How may I help you today?
Keith: is the error message saying login not sucessful.
James: No I can't even get to that screen. It's one of those generic Microsoft "unable to display page" screens
Keith: well then this has nothing to do with your login details.
Keith: it my jst be your computer. what have you been told to do?
James: i've checked all the security settings, cleared the temp files, etc. it's just strange that it was fine and then since monday it hasn't allowed me in
Keith: have you checked your connection speed?
James: what about it?
Keith: WELL IF ITS LOW THIS MAY BE THE PROBLEM.
James: ok. well how do i check it and subsequently improve it?
Keith: well you should have an icon in the lower right hand corner of your computer with 2 computers click on this to check your connection speed.
James: 100.0 Mbps
Keith: it should be be alot higher than that
James: ok. well how do i go about fixing it?
Keith: i am not sure James i am not a techincal advisor.
James: well what are you?
Keith: customer support for gaming.
James: ok, well yours is the only web site I am having problems with
Keith: if you have tried all the solutions i am not sure what the problem is.
James: do you work with any techincal advisors?
Keith: Unfortunately I dont.
James: Well Keith, what do you propose I do about my inaccessable sportsbook account?
James: Keither?

Retired at 16

MTV has pulled out all the stops in its quest to satisfy "creepy, retired-25-year-olds-with-pedophilic-tendencies" with the introduction of their new show My Super Sweet 16, which focuses on extravegantly wealthy 16 year girls planning their sweet 16 parties. To top it off, once they showed the opening scene being filmed in La Jolla, CA, I was officially on board.

I remember my 16th birthday party. It was, like, so cool. Four or so friends came over and we played a round robin badminton tourney in my backyard and followed it up by breaking out the board game classic, Stratego. I don't even think I won and it was my birthday. And there were no girls present, unless you count my cat and my mom, which makes two.

Regardless, the following quotes were exchanged during the show

Jimmy: "This has excellent potential."
Female Roommate (scornfully): "Just remember they're 16."
Jimmy: "Exactly."

Jimmy: "I would really like to be invited to this party."
Co: "Would you hook up with one of them...."
Jimmy: "Eh..."
Co: ".....if nobody would find out?"
Jimmy: "Absolutely."

Time to go rub one.....I mean, go to sleep.

California Love

Retired at 25's sphere of influence has now extended to the West Coast where it has influenced my old co-worker JT to create his own site titled The Sixth Year Senior. Clearly I am associated with ambitious young adults. The first entry has some bittersweet irony regarding the women in California and their interpretation of cold weather (it's in the teens here today).

It should be noted that JT and I shared a cubicle back in the Padres days which was by far the finest cubicle in the history of offices. This cube had a prime view of the 42" LCD in our office, whose remote was housed strictly in our cube and was used entirely at our discretion, which translated to a healthy diet of Red Sox baseball, much to the chagrin of the females in the office. Our cube also easily outdistanced Monica's which was filled with cat photos and empty wine bottles and of course Diane's, which was covered with photos of her (good times) and her boyfriend (not good times).

So check out the site and support an employee of a middling baseball franchise.

Welcome to New Jersey!

Retired at 25 is back, baby. Errors fixed and a fresh post for your enjoyment.

Friday night I went to Hoboken to visit some friends who live out there that I hadn't seen since I've been in the area. I was told that we were going to see a band at an Irish bar in a very casual scene where a wet spike was not necessary. So I get myself together and get down to the PATH train around 11pm. As I'm waiting for a train, who should walk up but a girl whom I dated for a while back in college. 20 million people in this city and I get the luxury of awkward small talk with an ex-girlfriend within 2 weeks of being here. Here is one gem from the exchange:

Girl: "Guess what? I'm engaged!"(flaunts the ring)
Jimmy: "That's wonderful! I'm unemployed!"(flaunts lack of self-worth, empty wallet)

As always, making others feel much better about themselves. Where was my Volvo SUV when I needed it? I should mention that earlier in the evening I went downstairs to the convenient store in my Frank the Tank robe and slippers to buy a loaf of bread and peanut butter for my dinner and also went through the price menu at length with the cashier as to which is the cheapest six pack of canned beer. Can't get much better than me right now.

Anyway, since I am a talker, I was able to avoid the potholes of further awkward conversation during our PATH ride to Jersey, eventually making inquiries into the availability of her attractive sorority sisters which was actually welcomed and I have been subsequently "friendstered" into her network.

Increasing my friendster points for the evening once I got to the bar, was the fact that I traveled all the way to Jersey to witness a Bon Jovi cover band in a smoky bar. Could it get any more Jersey/worse than this? Maybe if they had a video slide show of power plants and cesspools to accompany the music I guess, but still, couldn't my friends have weaned me onto jersey a little less severely? And nothing tops ending a night showering off the stench of smoke after waiting for a train in a cold PATH station for 30 minutes. I am a good friend but I am officially never going back to Hoboken again.

Weekend Recap

I am currently stretching the elastic in my renowned sweatpants to all time great lengths following an ambitious Sunday dinner creation by myself and Co. We tried to think outside of the Foreman/Takeout box and ended up choosing "Italian Style Meatloaf" which narrowly beat out "Tantalizingly Tangy Meatloaf" and "Soft, Moist, and Gooey Cinnamon Buns". Submitted to the cookbook by Stefanie S (I have to give credit where it is due) this meatloaf is "a different twist on everyday meatloaf. I've NEVER had leftovers even when I've tripled the recipe!!". Sold, Stefanie! Raw ground beef, eggs, tomato sauce, and mozzarella cheese in a mixing bowl was one of the sexiest things I have ever laid eyes on. An hour later I was one-on-one with a most glorious cake tray of leavened beef!

As for the weekend, Friday was first supposed to be a party welcoming yours truly to NYC, but then only 4 people showed up, two of which were roommates of mine. Shortly after, the entire room began to make fun of my hairstyle which I have used for over 3 years and led to the rest of my evening filled with self-doubt. No less than three conversations were made at the bar asking females if they "were into it", to which I was either told "No." or given zero response. I am ready to move home and hear my mom tell me how handsome I am (not in a weird way, really).

Slept till around 3 on Saturday which allowed me to miss the blogger convention that took place. Even mentioning this planned get together of "some internet friends" got me placating smiles and nods from the roommates. However, the internet powers that be would make sure that my Saturday would not go without blogger encounters. Initially it was planned to meet friends for a birthday party at bar called Manahatta, which I tried telling the people at door was a misspelling. Adding to it all was the CHargers heartbreaking loss, the fact that my name was not on a special clipboard at the door, and this bar did not allow gentlemen to enter the bar unaccompanied by females. After asking the bouncer in sunglasses if he was sure he could see the clipboard in the blinding sunlight, we walked up the street to another bar which was more lenient.

It was at this bar that one of greater lines in the pantheon of "Approaches to Women" occurred. Recognizing her from the photos on her webpage, I asked the girl out of nowhere, "Have I seen you on the internet?". Yes, my mojo was on fire last night. But at least my memory served me correct as it was the one and only Kiki. We either had a "super-good" conversation or I completely "super-creeped her out" by recognizing her from her webpage. Either way, I also met JdeG who gave me a flurry of "high-tens" for recognizing her as well and being a Kiki groupie. I was told about the blogger convention of the afternoon which I am now pleased that I did not attend and was also told that my site is funny. This gave me enough confidence to, later in the night, attempt to convert on "the Layup", a friend of my roommate's girlfriend. She was all the way back at the place, at which point I tried to work an angle of her helping me put the clean sheets on my bed. I will not say which way it went, but less than 5 minutes later I was baking a huge batch of nachos in the kitchen with Co to round out my evening.

No Sleep Till...

I am in love with the two dump trucks that idle their engines outside my windows from the hours of 3-6 am everyday. I never knew 30th street was a late night truck stop. I also don't understand why they can't just shut their engines off instead of revving them up like they are dueling Red Dragons. Needless to say, sleep has been at a minimum thus far and I find myself increasingly edgy. I should be used to this, though. While in San Diego, I had some prime real estate under the airport take-off path. Upon each jet taking off, my apartment would be flooded with noise, drowning out any conversation and/or television for a good 45 seconds. The smell of jet fuel was also a wonderful sedative. However, from 12-6am no flights departed so I could count on at least some reasonable sleep. I have a feeling this is going to be a lot harder to get used to. I have also come to realize that closing curtains does not mute sound.

On another note, I'm really enjoying watching what goes on in the offices in the building across the street on a daily basis. There's many women in the office that are on the business end of much staring and self-groping. One of these days I will locate my roommate's binoculars and really enjoy myself. In the meanwhile I look forward to a possible nap, tonight's new episode of the O.C., and Fresh Direct's delivery of my 30 pack of Budweiser.

UPDATE: Con Edison has officially set up shop outside of the apartment and is staging what appears to be a jackhammer training session. I couldn't make this stuff up. It ruined my ability to hear the episode of the O.C. and then Fresh Direct did not deliver my Labatt's. Bitter.

Merry New Year!

"In this country, we say HAPPY new year." I think I just overcame the sweating and shaking of the New Years binge. Co and I had a hell of a time on New Years Day in Circuit City, with a full array of sweats, clammy hands, dizzy spells, and awkward handshakes with Ralph the Uninformed Salesman With A Large Dent in the Palm of His Hand. I will say that the preceding evening was well worth the hangover, and even the depression that followed the uncontrollable laughs.

New Years plans were not decided until around 6pm Friday, at which point we were deciding between a booze cruise, a friend's open-bar flat rate party, and Bulls Head, which shockingly had no cover. My buddy BJ was in town with his new girlfriend so they were coming out with myself and Leary- a real dynamite crew of four. Our pre-boozin was spent strategizing the midnight makeout and how to time it so the female is not scared away after too much time conversing about online diaries. I was impressed with BJ's girl Shannon who scouted out the potential beasts for our conquest. At about 11:45 I made the move in to "buy" shots from the open bar for the group of six girls that was at the bar. Luckily they were from upstate NY, so not only did I have conversation fodder, but they were also thankful and impressed by the shots. The circle of friends that became of the shots turned into me conversing with the one with the Gary Sheffield-like mustache who, in fairness, did have a reasonable body. Not sure whether she would be into it or not, I wisely managed to continune conversation with the husky girl who was interested in any form of conversation. Complimenting her shirt was all for insurance purposes in case Rollie Fingers was not into my shit. Thankfully she was, and the midnight maul was on. The taste of female flesh is so good, once it hits your lips, particularly after a prolonged dry spell spent at home. My confidence boosted, I motioned for the 7 bartender for a kiss and after an inital outright denial, I was granted a kiss on the cheek, for which I tipped her $10. This, however, continued the free open bar for me a bit longer than everyone else and I will be going back to this bar regularly.

Co and I stumbled into a cab around 3 where I called an old ex girlfriend who lives in NYC (voice mail, no surprise). Parting ways with Co for no apparent reason around 23rd street, I dragged myself into the Monk for a beer where I blathered to some Irish girl for 2 minutes, spit a few times, and then walked directly back out of the bar, and found my way home somehow, someway. Shortly after I got home Co called and while not funny to anyone besides myself, the following conversation took place:

Jimmy: "Where are you?"
Slurred Co: "I'm in the Monk."

Good night 2004, I hated that year.