The Guest List: More wedding thoughts
I’ve been doing a chunk of the work I should be doing today at home over the weekend and the result? I have absolutely nothing to do right now. I have to pass the time. How(aside from the given internet hours I spend on interracial pornography and Harry Potter gay fan fiction)? Why, populating a guest list for my wedding of course!
Yes, I know it makes absolutely no sense to make a guest list for my wedding right now when I should really focus on getting sex first, or trying not to suck so much as a boyfriend first, but just hear me out.
As an addendum to my breakaway hit of a post: The Dip, Marry-ability, at this point in my life, I feel as if everyone around me is either getting married or starting a family. The number of times I’ve thought about my own wedding is well documented in this blog but this, still, totally blows me out of the water. Maybe it’s because of the fact that me and my current girlfriend are pretty much in consensus that marriage is something not in our immediate future yet or maybe it’s the fact that lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m going to make a totally negligent and sucky husband. Last Sunday though, Maffy and I attended a wedding of one of her college friends and I realized something interesting: The last couple of weddings I’ve attended typically have around 200 people as guests–ideally the groom having 100 guests and the bride another 100.
My strategy as far as weddings would go usually would be to get in, congratulate the newly weds with feigned sincerity when deep inside, I’m wishing a painful death upon them, give my gift, pig the fuck out, and get the hell out of there the first chance I get before some stupid show band-type singers start playing songs like Happy by Square Hands and your date obliges you to dance with her–something that you’re really not comfortable doing so you tell her you don’t want to, she gets upset, you get upset, you flip the fuck out and panic; knocking the wedding cake down in the process causing your date to cry because you just ruined her friend’s wedding and her friends will like stop being friends with her because her sweaty fat date wearing an awkwardly over-sized barong ruined the newly-wed’s special day. Whatever.
Leopard Geekgasm
So Apple’s scheduled to release its highly anticipated OS X update tomorrow right? Well guess what–I’ve been straddling the hype and reading pre-release reviews and previews so much over the last couple of weeks that I have splotches of semen all over my work station thanks to intense, multiple geekgasms.
Apparently the new OS X Leopard doesn’t scrimp on new features and its impressive feature set stretches farther than its semi-transparent menu bar and reflective dock as it boasts of over 300 new features(And seriously, is anyone even surprised? I mean if they released Leopard as a mere cosmetic update then they should’ve called it “Vista.” See what I did there?).
Because it’s all over the Internet and A-list bloggers can’t shut up about it, I’m pretty sure that you have an idea of what Leopard’s marquee features are; I mean I’m sure, vague as it may be, that you have an idea of what Time Machine, Stacks and Leopard’s integrated Bootcamp features can do.
But what do all these bells and whistles translate to for the normal, only-slightly-geek people like us? I mean sure the new Applescript, Dashcode and XCode 3 features may prove useful for those programmer types but for average macheads like myself, what is there to be excited about?
For me, there are three reasons.
The Dip. Marry-ability.
For some reason or another, I have been thinking about marriage these past few days. If you’ve been reading my stuff long enough, you might go ahead and jump into conclusions about this just being a “phase” of some sort. After all, I wrote this almost a year ago.
(And really, is it my fault that the girl I proposed to lied about her job and wasn’t really a flight attendant but a dancer who trades her “services” for canned vegetable outside a clothing store in the middle east? I think not.)
But seriously, marriage is slowly beginning to present itself as a nascent position lately. This, I feel, is largely due to the fact that right now, I have the best girlfriend a guy could ever have. Before my girlfriend and I got together, my original plan was to marry whoever it is I’m dating by the time I turn 31 (preferably someone underage. And with dead parents, or parents who are drug addicts. Or both.)
Lately though, I find myself in a serious bind–or as my recent favorite author Seth Godin would call it: a Dip(or, who knows? Maybe even a cul-de-sac?). This “Dip” that I speak of is the fact that I feel that as if, right now, I have peaked. I am as marry-able as I’m ever going to get.
In fact, forget “peaking” as I think I’ve passed my peak years ago. Right now, my life is on a downward slide that will ultimately end in a mail-to-order bride, annulment, severe alcoholism and drug addiction, murder and fire.
How to be an Internet Elitist
Although I cannot claim to be a pioneer of what we call today as “The Internet Culture;” I’ve been online long enough to have a fairly good understanding of what internet denizens are like. I vaguely remember going online just to download Alicia Silverstone pictures on a 14.4 KBPS connection or logging in to ICQ to ask one of my pre-med classmates to scan his notes for me and have them “DCC’ed” to me–A process which takes something like 4 hours.
I can’t claim to have sent plain text emails on a super computer that runs on vacuum tubes, there were internet pioneers who stretch farther into the past than I did. But one of the things that these pioneers and myself share is being able to witness a time when “internet culture” was a homogeneous thing–a badge we wear proudly.
The internet of 2007 is a long tail of thousands upon thousands of archetypes. Since I do not have sufficient time nor willpower to describe each and every one of them, let me provide you with keen insight into my favorite one: The Internet Elitist.
If you yourself are an internet elitist, please realize that I’m not making fun of you specifically. I’m just making fun of you in general. You know, because you’re a douchebag.
A song for Maffy
I can be a big, negligent a jerk as much as I want, but at the end of the day only one simple truth remains: I am madly inlove with you and I really can’t imagine getting through life without you holding my hand.
Thank you for fighting hard for what we have.
(By the way, this is going to be the first and last time I am going to attempt to sing an Emo Punk song. I don’t know how these kids can make their voice sound as if it comes out of a vagina without seriously hurting themselves.)
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The Star
Mike "Fucking" Villar
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"The personal blog of Marketing Strategist, Rising Internet Star, Man Blog editor, child pornographer, alcoholic, and cokehead-- Douchebag Jones--Err, Mike Villar!
