Here's to Feeling Good All The Time...

What's gotten into me?

2008-08-05T19:07:00.000-07:00

Posts on consecutive days? I think it was a combination of wanting to offset the previous post with something modestly informative/intelligent as well as being absolutely sickened when I read this. Sooooo, let me get this straight. We're in the middle of a recession here at home (I don't care what the GDP figures say - look around at the number of people looking for and not finding work, cutting back significantly on discretionary spending, etc., and it becomes painfully obvious that we're in a recession, as far as I define it). Meanwhile, over in Iraq, in addition to the thousands of American lives our country has sacrificed over there (not to mention countless more Iraqi civilian lives), we're apparently subsidizing their reconstruction. It would seem to make sense until you read this paragraph:

"Baghdad had a $29 billion budget surplus between 2005 to 2007.
With the price of crude roughly doubling in the past year, Iraq's
surplus for 2008 is expected to run between $38 billion and $50
billion, according to a report from the U.S. Government
Accountability Office."

So, while we at home are facing an increasingly difficult job market (I know this firsthand) and rising costs for everything from gas to groceries, the Iraqis are pocketing their chips like a risk-averse Indian who's up a few hundo at the blackjack table (how long before they create a sovereign wealth fund to bail out Merrill Lynch, Citigroup, or [insert troubled bank here]?).

I wanted to do some quick math to see what this money could mean for the average American. I found this pretty cool population clock on the Census Bureau's website, which at the time I'm writing this stands at 304,792,083. To be conservative, I assumed the low end for the 2008 Iraqi budget surplus - $38 billion, and furthermore cut the whole $67 billion in half, since I figure given their volatile history, it probably makes sense for the Iraqis to build up at least a little war chest (poor choice of words). So that gets you to $33.5 billion, or $109.91 for each and every American man, woman and child, or about $440 for a family of four. That's a lot of gum! Or gas, or Goose, or greens' fees or whatever. Whoever wins in November, PLEASE fix this quickly.

“Pura Vida”…

2008-08-04T19:30:00.000-07:00

…is kinduva national motto for Costa Rica, from where I returned late Sunday night after about 6 days in all parts of the beautiful country. It translates rather cleanly to “pure life.” In summary, no two words could be a poorer description of how my friends and I spent our time there. But I’m not gonna expand too much on that. Too many of the guys on the trip have girlfriends, fiancées, or potentially future political careers to protect (1 out of 3 for me – not too bad).

While for me the trip was largely a way to just spend unemployment in a different country, the trip represented a final hoorah for many of the others. Poo/Amit is moving back home to Cleveland, Anuj back home to Boston. PB/Vishal #1 is off to business school at Dartmouth. Alvin is off to relationship school (marriage) next summer. A non-pura vida was definitely in order.

After weeks of planning (with all the different options and only 6 full days, I’d say Costa Rica is definitely difficult to plan for), I arrived in San Jose late Monday morning after a layover in Miami. Early on, everything went smoothly. No passport issues. American Airlines didn’t lose my bag. And perhaps most surprisingly, I was able to find Anuj waiting for me at the airport rather easily, having already hired a taxi to take us to our first stop, Arenal. After several hours of a sometimes-bumpy, sometimes-scenic drive (very characteristic of the entire country), we finally made it. I started with a traditional lunch of arroz con pollo, along with the dominant national brew, Imperial (quite good) and then we hit the pool to start handling the handle of Skyy I brought with me.

A few hours later, after a little swimming and a lot of vodka, Fake/Neil/Vishal #2, Thug/Sameer and PB returned from their daytrip and we made plans to finally hit the town. Only there isn’t much of a town in Arenal to hit. The main attraction of the city (and perhaps the country) is the sometimes-active volcano, but Monday night was too cloudy to get a good look, so we bypassed that option. So we went into “downtown” Arenal, stopped at a zapateria to buy some watershoes that would be needed later, stopped at a bank so Sameer could lose his ATM card, and finally had dinner at one of the few spots that was still open at the time. (Note to future visitors to Costa Rica: Except maybe in more-touristy Tamarindo, most restaurants close pretty early.) We then looked for a bar to go drink at, but the only one we could find was packed to the brim with older, native Costa Ricans who looked at us funny. Not the funny looks we get from our girlfriends after inappropriate comments or from non-girlfriends after inappropriate advances. But the “this is our bar, and you don’t belong” funny looks. Despite the language barriers, this message came across clear, so we bounced within 5 minutes and proceeded to head back to the hotel to drink until 3:30 in the morning. It was actually one of the most interesting nights of drinking I’ve had in my entire life, partly due to the fact that I hadn’t drank with these guys in quite some time, but more due to the content of the conversations. While the four of us (PB doesn’t drink) polished off a bottle of Glenfiddich and a fair amount of hookah and vodka, we discussed politics, economics, the pros and cons of a progressive tax system and philosophy (the concept of luck vs. karma vs. destiny) for several hours on the porch. Good times all around. The only downside was that our hotel (do NOT stay at the Arenal Springs Resort) was so poorly lit that I admittedly was scared to go on ice runs by myself – thanks Sameer.

The next day, Tuesday, was action-packed. We started with white water rafting, which was awesome. Some of you might know that I’m scared shitless of natural bodies of water, so I was definitely a little nervous, especially when you throw in the concept of large, jagged rocks. But since I was so busy paddling and focused on keeping my feet secure so I wouldn’t fall off the raft, I really didn’t have time to think about being scared. It was an incredible experience and I would definitely recommend it to anyone who visits Costa Rica, especially rafting beginners (Anuj had been rafting several times and was apparently incredibly bored). The highlight was the fresh fruit they cut up for us as a snack – honestly the best pineapple I’ve ever had in my life and probably the best meal I had all trip. The lowlight was when we couldn’t maneuver the raft away from a series of rocks on one side of the river, one of which hit me rather hard in my helmet-protected noggin. Ouch.

After rafting and some lunch, we hit up the hot springs at the Baldi hotel. Think of a water park, only instead of rides, the park is full of a series of hot Jacuzzis. Considering how cold and soaked we got rafting (from both the river water and the pouring rain that day), we couldn’t have timed the trip to the hot springs better. Otherwise, it probably wasn’t worth the $28 admission fee, to be honest. After returning to the hotel, we hopped on a shuttle to head to the volcano viewing site, and were lucky enough to see some mini-eruptions (that’s what she said), complete with a good amount of bright-red molten rock. At least we assumed it was molten rock, since we didn’t think actual lava could flow down the mountain as fast as it was. Apparently 70% of visitors to Arenal don’t get to see the eruptions, because of the constant cloudiness, so we considered ourselves quite lucky. Anuj thought we were “destined” to see the volcano erupt, but I still think it was more luck than anything.

Wednesday was a travel day, as we were headed to Monteverde. We woke up early, and then took an amazing water taxi ride for like 45 minutes. Very scenic. We were met on the other side of the river (or giant lake? I don’t really know) by yet another shuttle who took us on a long, bumpy, slightly nauseating ride to our hotel. Fortunately I was luckier than Neil, who astonishingly was able to fall asleep on the ride, only to wake up to a particularly large bump, where he bit the inside of his lip and chipped his tooth to boot. Ouch.

The rest of Wednesday was a little disappointing. Since it was thunderstorming, we didn’t feel like adventuring into the “city” to one of the local restaurants, so we just ate at the hotel restaurant. Having already eaten a lot of seafood and other local dishes, I decided to mix it up a little and see what Costa Rican pizza was like. Bad move. After waiting literally like 55 minutes for our pizza, it was all-in-all one of the worst pizzas I’ve had in my life. The shot of Patron we had as an appetizer didn’t make it taste any better. Then, to make things worst, Alvin and Poo finally arrived. Just kidding fellas, just kidding. In the evening, we decided to do a nightwalk through the rain forest, which basically consisted of us paying $17 each to walk through the pitch black forest for a couple loooong hours, seeing some bats, a pretty cool tarantula, a tiny frog, and a bunch of insects. This is what everyone argues over whether to protect or not? We then went back to the hotel for another low-key dinner at the bar/lounge and a couple hours of drinking and hookah on the porch of one of the hotel rooms. We kept it tame, as we had some more early morning adventures planned for Thursday.

Thursday was probably the best day of the trip, from beginning to end. We started with a morning walk through the rainforest, which was infinitely more enjoyable than the nightwalk. We saw some birds (surprisingly not nearly as many different kinds of birds as I had expected in a rainforest), some owls, more insects, some other animals I can’t recall off the top of my head, and we even had a chance to climb up the inside of a hollow tree, which was really cool. Oh yeah, and a millipede poo’d on Poo’s hand.

Following the walk was the peak of the trip – ziplining. Just like with the rafting, I thought I’d be scared shitless ziplining at rapid speeds over the Costa Rican rainforest. Again, I surprised myself and thoroughly enjoyed all of the ziplines. The only thing that kinda sucked was on the slower ziplines, if you’re not very careful about your technique, you run the risk of slowing down and even stopping mid-line. On one occasion I did in fact stop and had to be helped to the other side of the platform, which was kinda embarrassing. On the final zipline (which was the most amazing since it was high up, basically in the clouds, and it happened to be drizzling at the time which added a cool effect), while I didn’t stop, I was so worried about stopping that I didn’t enjoy it as much. Plus the wind kept spinning me around so I was going backwards half the time. Still, it was an amazing experience, to be topped only by the Tarzan Swing, which is basically exactly what it sounds like. They harness you to a long rope, tell you to hold on tight and keep your legs up and crossed, and push you off the platform. Pretty scary since you come extremely close to the ground, and then on the way up, you come extremely close to just swinging your way right into a tree (which is the way Tarzan himself would want it, I guess). But just amazing, and a great way to quickly overcome a fear of heights if you have one.

After ziplining, we headed back to the hotel, from where we had yet another shuttle ride, this time about 4 hours to Tamarindo, a tourist-popular beach city on the western edge of Costa Rica. Thursday night we explored the best (and worst) of Tamarindo nightlife. Upscale hotel dinner, then a couple local bars in the central area of the city, and finally Aqua, the “club” of Tamarindo where you pay a $7 cover on Thursday nights but then get to enjoy 25 cent draft beers all night. Needless to say, Thursday night was messy, highlighted by Anuj’s unfortunate excursion to the beach. By the way, in a sidenote, major props to PB – I don’t know how you have the willpower/patience to stay out with us 6 drunken idiots until 4am.

On Friday, after FINALLY being able to sleep in, we headed to the beaches of Tamarindo. Only there really isn’t a “beach”, at least as far as we could tell. Just a large body of water (the Pacific Ocean) separated from bars/restaurants/hotels by, at most, 30-40 feet of sand. And no topless women either. Some “beach”, right? Finally we found an American who told us that Playa Grande was the best beach in Tamarindo, so we headed over there, which required a solid 15 minute trek across sand and through 3-4 feet deep water, then a $7, 45 second water taxi ride. On the other side was a minimally better beach that was by no means worth the effort it took to get there. But we were already there, so we enjoyed it to the best of our abilities, swimming (or mostly standing) in the pleasantly warm water, with several of the guys (not me) calling the ocean a whore and other mean names because its waves weren’t challenging enough. Keeping it sophisticated.

After a few hours of souvenir shopping, napping, a Pizza Hut dinner that Anuj and Fake couldn’t stop bitching about and pre-gaming, we headed to our hotel bar, The Monkey Bar, which is one of the local hotspots on Friday night. At first we went Guju. Since we had 4-5 bottles of liquor still remaining, for the first half hour or 45 minutes, we walked back and forth to the hotel room to refill drinks. But then it got too crowded, it started pouring, and we became too drunk to care anymore, so we gave up on that plan (and have A LOT of alcohol left over to show for it). After a little while, things started to turn south, as one of us (not me) pissed off a local weed dealer, and two others started arguing about God knows what. I guess that’s what happens when you throw 7 guys together in a foreign country for a week with no girlfriends and no “alone time.” So we realized destiny (or luck) said we shouldn’t be at Monkey Bar, so we headed back to Aqua for what somehow turned out to be an even drunker night than Thursday night. We closed the night with some chicken kabobs from a street vendor, quite a bit of gay wrestling back in the hotel room and some more drunken intra-group squabbling. Fortunately I assigned myself the task of being photographer for the night, so I was too busy to partake in the events you see below. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

At this point, this posting is already REALLY long, so I’ll wrap it up pretty quickly (that’s what he said). Saturday afternoon, our flight to San Jose was cancelled, so we scrambled to hire – yes, ANOTHER shuttle to take us. It was a 5+ hour trip, highlighted by us walking with our luggage across a bridge that for some reason or another could handle plenty of people and luggage, but not any cars whatsoever. We spent Saturday night eating at the hotel, and then partaking in some low-key San Jose nightlife. We had to calm down eventually.

Pura vida? No comprendo.

Volcano Shot from our Hotel Room:

A couple sweet Volcano shots from Anuj's camera:

Rafting:

View from Water Taxi:

Worst Pizza EVER (yes we still ate a good amount of it):

Another Round of Imperial for Me and My Friends!

Ziplining:

The Tarzan Swing:

A picture is worth 1000 words. Or just 1: "Pu$$y"

Partying at Aqua, in Tamarindo:

Go Anuj! (or not)

Free Alcohol!

Bartenders at Aqua:

This might explain my Saturday hangover:

Gay Time:

It's Baseball Season!

2008-05-20T08:59:00.000-07:00

Well, as anyone who reads my blog knows by now, the Hornets' "magical" season came to an end about 13 hours ago. I'm not quite sure if it's totally hit me yet, as several scotches has a way of numbing your mind and body to everything occurring around you. I'm not gonna dwell on what "could have been." No, I'm not gonna sit here and write about Bonzi Wells' missed layup and all-around horrendous play during the series. Or the fact that David West (who I still love and respect) missed SO MANY makeable shots in the 2nd half last night. Or CP3's missed Free Throws. Or Jannero Pargo's playing 1-on-5 over the last several minutes of the game, refusing to even look for his two All-Star teammates, instead jacking up whatever shot he saw. No, I'm not gonna sit here and write about all that.

Throughout the regular season, which was a surprisingly strong one for my Hornets, I repeatedly told several friends that I'd be "happy" with a playoff berth and winning 1 series. Such is the nature of the NBA. Teams sort of have to pay their dues, building experience and camaraderie before being able to make the jump to "championship caliber." So, from that perspective, I should be happy, like I said I would be. But then I see the Phoenix Suns and Dallas Mavericks - two teams who slowly climbed the ladder to be in the position of "championship contenders", only to never have done it. Now, their windows appear to be closed. While the Hornets' best players - CP3, David West and Tyson Chandler are all relatively young, healthy and under contract for the immediate future, the hard fact remains that there is absolutely no guarantee of future success. Only time will tell.

All in all, I'm holding up relatively well. In the waning minutes of the game last night, when the verdict was sealed, a picture of my nephew Dilen popped up on my screensaver, which helped put things in perspective. Overall, life is pretty good. I live in LA, have great friends/family, a beautiful niece and nephew who I get to spend a lot of time with, and an amazing girlfriend who came over after the game to buy me dinner and generally distract me from what had just happened. In less than a month, I (knock on wood) will have a Master's Degree (Business or not - a Master's is a Master's) and, eventually, I hope, a high-paying job. Or some sort of job, anyways.

Also, I've realized over the last couple weeks that one of the major reasons I've become increasingly obsessed with the success (or lack thereof) of my favorite sports teams is the fact that I spend so much more time following them, mainly because of the Internet. So for the last week or so, I've tried to cut back a little bit, staying away from the Hornets' blogs and not obsessively watching all the SportsCenter analysis. Today, I'm giving myself the true test. No ESPN, no espn.com, no ESPN Radio. Nothing. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I went 24+ hours without any access to sports information, as even when I travel I usually surf the web for at least 15 minutes a day to check scores. I'll admittedly probably cheat and ask someone about the Mets (they play a pretty big doubleheader against the Braves today), but other than that, this will truly test whether I am master of my domain.

Moving on, it's now officially time to come on out and greet the Mets!

UPDATE #1: I've made it to 5pm. No ESPN, no ESPN Radio, no espn.com. Nada. But I'm struggling. Not sure I'll make it.

UPDATE #2: I pretty much made it. 630am on Wednesday. I got some auto text/email alerts from sportsline.com, some people in class talking about the Bulls winning the draft lottery and some unintentional/unwanted ESPN coverage of Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals. But other than that, nothing. There was a little vomiting and a lot of sweating, but I made it. Now, I've got some catching up to do.

I lasted 10 days

2008-05-09T17:06:00.000-07:00

I tried to hold out for a while longer. A big Game 1 win over the Spurs, and I resisted temptations to write about my excitement. A 2-0 lead? I refrained. But then I saw this old SportsCenter Flashback and I couldn't help but post. I'm, as anyone who knows me already knows, a relatively emotionless guy who most of you assume is made of skin, bones, and vodka, with no heart whatsoever. But I've watched this clip twice now, and both times found myself tearing up a little with about a minute left in the video. Whether or not you appreciate CP3 for his ridiculous game (how can you not? seriously), you gotta love this story. Go Hornets!

I interrupt this CP3 lovefest...

2008-05-07T08:08:00.000-07:00

for this, which I found pretty funny. For lazy people who don't like clicking links or, you know, reading, the gist is that, due to rapidly increasing metal prices, it now costs around 1.26 cents to make a penny, and 7.7 cents to make a nickel. Hmmm. Given my (continued) unemployment, I'm wondering if there's a way to take all the nickels and pennies I have lying around my apartment and profiting from this somehow.

The Season Continues

2008-04-29T19:18:00.000-07:00

No, no, no. This isn't turning into a Hornets' blog. If you want one of those, which I'm sure none of you do, go here for a really good one. But I figure I gotta blog about something. I haven't traveled anywhere in a while (Hawaii doesn't count since all I did was watch basketball, eat heavily and drink even more heavily - three things I could have done just as easily and less expensively from the comfort of my own home). I'm frankly pretty sick of the Democratic primary process. And, at 28 and still looking for a job, I probably shouldn't be putting in public media my drunken party tales. So, for now, it's all about the Hornets.

What a day for my Bugs. This morning, Byron Scott was presented with the NBA Coach of the Year award. I've been hard on (ha-ha) Byron all season, including yelling loudly at him at a Hornets-Clippers game in January for inexplicably playing ex-Hornet Marcus Vinicius, but he's starting to grow on me, and I think he legitimately deserved the award. Just like I think CP3 deserves the MVP. Which he ain't gonna get, but whatevers.

Several hours later, above was the scene in NOLA. David West and Tyson Chandler hugging it out (bitch) after the Hornets quickly and pretty easily disposed of the Dallas Mavericks in 5 games (I called 6 - very happy to have been wrong on that). Next up are either the Spurs or the Suns, preferably, but unlikely, the Suns.

Below: LOSER!!!

Only The Beginning...

2008-04-18T15:12:00.001-07:00

The NBA Playoffs start tomorrow, and I can't even describe how excited I am. So excited that I'm gonna sit and watch American Gangster at home on a beautiful Friday afternoon because I know my next 2 months or so are completely occupied with basketball (and, to a much, much smaller extent, trying to find a job).

The above image, if the words on the t-shirts aren't clear, is of MY New Orleans Hornets celebrating their first ever Southwest Division title, after completing a franchise-best 56-26 season (unfortunately they only went 1-1 in the games I actually went to...damn Lakers and their quick starts). We get Dallas in the first round, and tomorrow begins the "CP3 dominates in the postseason" era. I'm so pumped for the game that I'm actually voluntarily spending several extra hours with Atur, just to ensure I get to San Diego in time for the 4pm tipoff. That's dedication.

Frankly, I'm glad all the "experts" are picking the Mavericks. All the pressure is off. CP3, David West, Tyson, Peja, JuJu and the rest of the Bugs can just go out and do their thing. Hornets in 6.

Is it wrong that I found this kinda funny?

2008-04-11T07:58:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry. But I couldn't help but laugh a little when I read this.

Self-Defense for All Guys (Except Me)

2008-04-02T18:51:00.000-07:00

I encourage you all to print a copy of this and carry it with you at all times.

Sports Meets Politics

2008-02-29T17:23:00.001-08:00

Don't worry. I don't care enough about baseball, Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, etc. to write about the steroids scandal being hotly pursued (at taxpayer expense) by the U.S. Congress.

Instead, this is about U.S. basketball, specifically the Olympic team. I was listening to an espn.com podcast that included an interview with Chris Sheridan, an ESPN NBA analyst who is their leading contributor when it comes to Team USA. He was discussing the three major concerns that the guy running Team USA has right now as we head into the Summer Games in Beijing - 1) Kobe's pinky (makes sense), 2) the fatigue factor (given most top NBA players play a pretty grueling schedule well into April, May and even June, this makes sense too), and 3) money. WTF?! This came as a complete shock to me.

I'm no expert on Olympic sports and how they're funded, but I always assumed that they were entirely funded by the federal government. I can't be the only one that thought this, right? Where else can our 30+% be going? OK, that's an entirely different debate.

I haven't bothered to do the research, but I'm now figuring the basketball team is sort of self-funded (through ticket/merchandise sales) with contributions from the government and private sources. Seems kind of ridiculous.

What really bothered me, though, was when Sheridan pointed out that Team USA was considering playing an additional exhibition game in Taiwan during the summer, pre-Olympics, to raise some cold, hard yuan. The issue with this, of course, is that this only adds to the fatigue concerns. While one exhibition game in Taiwan might not seem like a big deal, Sheridan noted that it's not that simple, including the fact that it involves a non-direct flight through Hong Kong. We all know how tiring stop-and-go travel can be when all you're doing is sitting in front of a computer or lying on the beach. These guys have to play ball, make media appearances, etc., etc.

What it all comes down to is competition. As anyone who has followed Team USA basketball since they started using professional players in Barcelona '92, the team has seen much better days, and international competition is only getting better. Now our players, representing you and I and every other American in the biggest, most-publicized international competition in sports, are under-funded and over-worked? Explain to me how we have billions upon billions to support an endless, fruitless war (not to mention millions, or at least hundreds of thousands, to investigate steroids in baseball), but we can't come up with cash to ensure our Olympic basketball team can compete at the highest level. How much can it cost to fly these guys around in a charter plane, house and feed them and their wives and maybe even some of their entourage for a couple months? To sew up and wash some shorts and jerseys? To hire some translators to make sure they know what they're ordering at the local KFC?

Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Go Team USA!

Theoretical Debate

2008-02-10T20:30:00.000-08:00

As I sit here on Sunday night, sober for the first time at 8:30pm on a Sunday since probably sometime in 2007, I'm left wondering - does "not getting wasted" count as an accomplishment for the day?

For the Record

2008-02-08T15:03:00.000-08:00

You all know by now that Shaq has been traded for Shawn Marion. You've all read the mostly negative comments that the analysts have made regarding the Suns' side of the trade. I was the first guy on that bandwagon. Within minutes of reading about the trade, I was google-chatting with a friend and compared this trade to the earlier trades of Kevin Garnett to the Celtics for Al Jefferson and change, and the trade of Pau Gasol to the Lakers for just the change. Below is a part of that chat transcript:

10:24 PM rishi: NBA execs are retarded
me: this one is beyond retarded
rishi: Wade must be ecstatic
me: the gasol and KG deals were at least somewhat defensible

So, clearly, I had a strong initial opinion on the trade, and it wasn't positive on the Suns or The Big Diesel.

Over the last couple of days though, I've heard A LOT of interviews with analysts, the Suns' coach, the Suns' GM, and, of course, I watched parts of Shaq's introductory press conference. And now, I'm singin a different tune.

For the record: Phoenix WILL win an NBA championship in the next two years.

Why? Call it a gut feeling. For anyone that follows the NBA, I obviously have no "fundamental" reason to think this was a good trade for the Suns. It can't be argued - right now, Shawn Marion is a better basketball player than Shaq. How, then, can I make such a crazy prediction?

Two words - chemistry and motivation.

Though everyone publicly denies it, there's been no doubt that Marion and Amare Stoudamire dislike/hate/don't get along with each other. Amare is gonna play like he's never played before (and will DOMINATE opposing PFs in the 20 or so minutes a game that Shaq plays). And, on motivation, well, we've seen what a hungry Shaq can do (a la, helping D-Wade lead Miami to a title just 2 years ago). Call me crazy, but I think the opportunity to prove all the critics wrong, the opportunity to maybe go against Kobe and/or arch-nemesis Tim Duncan in the playoffs - all those opportunities will motivate Shaq to stay in shape enough to at least contribute 20-25 minutes a game when it counts. Throw in a still top-flight PG in Steve Nash, a healthy, pumped-up Amare Stoudamire, and spare parts such as Leandro Barbosa, Grant Hill and Boris Diaw, and the result: your 2007-2008 (or 2008-2009) NBA Champion Phoenix Suns!

Note: If they lose to CP3 and my Hornets in the playoffs, I will be happy. My prediction will be wrong, and I'll eat the proverbial crow. But of course, I'll be happy.

The Issues

2008-01-30T18:08:00.000-08:00

With the primaries in California, New York, and a whole bunch of other states coming up, I found it timely that I happened to stumble upon this on cnn.com. See how all the candidates stack up on the major issues. Don't just vote for Obama because you're black or for Hillary because you have boobs. And God forbid, please...PLEASE...don't vote for John McCain.

Weekend Recap

2008-01-28T19:54:00.000-08:00

It’s been a while since I blogged a weekend recap. Since I haven’t blogged in general in a while, and since the weekend had some fun highlights, I figured today was an opportune time to bring back the Weekend Recap. To be clear, I’ll define “weekend” as the traditional Friday evening – Sunday evening stretch. As compared to my current weekends, which start on Wednesdays at 2:30 p.m. this quarter.

The weekend started out innocently enough. At around 5 p.m., I curled up in my warm bed to watch my Hornets take on the local JV squad, the Clippers. Since it was Friday night after all, I decided I needed a Scotch. Then a 2nd Scotch. When the two Scotches hit me harder and quicker than I expected, I decided I needed a shower and a meal. Unfortunately, only a few minutes after said meal, I decided to meet Seema, Ena, Anuj, Vijay and some others at Father’s Office. For non LA-ers, Father’s Office (supposedly) makes one helluva burger, which I’ve still yet to try because the place tends to be really crowded. So I limited myself to munching on some fries and having a couple beers – a pretty good White beer whose name I’m forgetting at the moment, and an Arrogant Bastard (had to try it because of the name) – a bitter, non-enjoyable Guinness-like beer. Anyways, the night was tame and I was home sleeping by 1ish. Like I said, the weekend started out innocently enough.

Fast forward to Saturday night. Terence was in town for his annual LA birthday celebration, which was fortunately taking place at Zanzibar, a small lounge a block and a half away from my apartment. I invited Terence and his entourage over to my place for some pre-gaming, where everyone proceeded to pound 2-3 drinks pretty quickly. It would be a sign of things to come for the next 24 or so hours. After the pre-game, we scurried over to Zanzibar through the pouring rain (seriously), and I was thankful to have had a few drinks in my system. I was not thankful that I only brought a broken umbrella to shelter me. Anyways, the night continued pretty much as expected. Waited in line for too long to get in. Waited too long at the bar to order drinks. Ran up too high a bar tab. Drank too much. Fortunately, I think we all got Terence sufficiently drunk, as the word-slurring, more-cursing-than-usual drunk Terence showed up not too long after he got there. Happy birthday bud.

After taking a cab home 1 ½ blocks (seriously – it was POURING) I stumbled into bed already looking forward to Sunday, as a handful of us had pre-planned that wonderful Sunday tradition – Brunch. When I woke up in the morning, the excitement (and fear, to some extent) built up as I saw I had a text from Kush – at 3:30 a.m. – confirming the brunch plans. Game on.

At a little after 1, we showed up at Belmont Cafe. The hype around the Belmont had been building for a couple weeks. Apparently, I had been informed by Seema, Kush, and other Belmont non-virgins, they have a do-it-yourself Bloody Mary bar. Wtf? What they do, basically, is give you a tall glass full of ice and the Vodka of your choice (I started with Skyy, which IMO is good enough for the purposes of a Bloody Mary, but once Anuj and Kush started ordering Goose, I figured I was paying for Goose indirectly so I might as well step it up myself). Then, at the bar, they have all the typical Bloody Mary fixings – a couple different types of Bloody Mary mix, Tabasco sauce (red and green), Worcestershire sauce, horseradish, all sorts of different olives, etc. They also offer a wide variety of non-traditional fixings. Chalula, chili powder, A1, Slim Jims (as a substitute for celery), etc. I’m not gonna lie. At first I was quite intimidated. After Seema helped me make my first one though, I had the confidence of a gourmet chef. I was throwing in all sorts of crazy concoctions – Chalula, A1, chili powder, asparagus, generous servings of horseradish, whatever (I didn’t have the cajones to try the Slim Jims, though). Incredible. Though at $11.50 per Goose Bloody Mary, anything short of incredible would have been grounds to leave quickly.

One Bloody Mary led to another, which led to another, and so on. We watched most of the Lakers-Cavs game while sipping (sometimes pounding) Bloody Marys and eating omelets. The game ended, and we pondered our next move. Seema tried to convince her parents, who had just seen Wicked in Hollywood, to come by for some food and maybe a drink. They’re clearly wise with their years though (NO, I’m not calling your parents old), and declined our invitation when it became clear to them that we were all half-drunk. So what to do now? Since Shaily had told “her man” (I don’t exactly know “where” they’re at, so I figured that was safe) to come meet us at the Belmont straight from Staples Center, we had no choice but to stay there and hang out. And drink.

At around 4 or so, our waitress was leaving for the day, so we had to settle our bill, which was something like $360 between 6 of us. After she changed into her “regular” clothes to head out, I swear she had a “so long suckers” look in her eyes as she took her 18% to go do lines with her unemployed actor boyfriend. We ordered what we thought were our final drinks of the day from our new waiter, and soon decided it was a good idea to go bowling. Seriously – is it ever NOT a good idea to go bowling when you’re already drunk? So we got our second check of the day and were ready to head out. Then, somehow, as if we needed it, we learned we were in the middle of happy hour, which lasted until 7. 22-ounce Fat Tires were $4, as were Mimosas. Hmmm. I guess we should stay a little while longer. I mean, we had already spent $60+ each to get drunk, so it only made budgetary sense to take advantage of the specials and keep the buzz going.

At this point, most of us switched our liquor of choice. I switched to Captain and Diets. Kush and Anuj switched to Fat Tire. Seema decided to ask for a glass of white wine. The waiter inquired, “Chardonnay? Pinot? Zinfadel?” To which Seema responded, “Yes.” Classic. The drunkenness continued, and sure enough turned into a game of “Never Have I Ever.” Always a fun game to play when you’ve been drinking. Even more fun when there’s not 1, but 2, couples at the table. Good times. Unfortunately, Never Have I Ever always depresses me a little bit, as I find myself drinking less than pretty much everyone else at the table. Even Anuj.

Sometime in the middle of Never Have I Ever, LA Clippers point guard Sam Cassell (“Sam I Am”) rolled into the restaurant, along with fellow NBA-er Damon Jones. Jones is a bench player for the Cleveland Cavaliers. The same Cleveland Cavaliers who we watched on TV earlier that day. While drinking Bloody Marys and eating brunch. So, evidently, we had been drinking long enough for Damon Jones to play ¾ of a basketball game, shower, meet up with his buddy Sam, and then go to the Belmont. Good times.

Finally, 7 p.m. rolled around. By this time, I think most of us had gotten drunk, sobered up a bit, and then got drunk all over again. We learned a lot about each other’s sexual histories. And we decided we were going to Vegas for the first weekend of March Madness (the only productive thing any of us did all day). We paid our third bill of the night and went our separate ways. Which, for Seema, Shaily, Vishal and I, was, of course, down the street to Spanish Kitchen for some Mexican food, Pacificos, and Margaritas. I think the owners of the Belmont must own Spanish Kitchen as well. How else to explain the random free margarita?

EDITOR'S NOTE: Seema just informed me that The Belmont and Spanish Kitchen, indeed, are owned by the same company/person. Frequent drinker points?

The Trifecta

2008-01-12T11:56:00.000-08:00

No, fellow Seinfeld aficionados, I’m not referring to sex, TV, and hot pastrami w/ mustard on rye (though I’m admittedly partial to all three). Instead I’m referring to three of my other passions which I managed to pull off in a quick 19-hour trip to Omaha.

Omaha?

Yup, Omaha. A group of 40 or so of us from Anderson made the trip to Omaha (in Nebraska, for those that don’t know) on Thursday evening for a Friday visit with The Man himself, Mr. Warren Buffett. Since Smitty doesn't read my blog, I'll assume that you all know who Mr. Buffett is. When the invitation was first sent out to the Finance Club at school, I was hesitant. Do I really wanna spend a day of my life and a few hundred dollars traveling to Omaha just to be part of a huge group getting a glimpse and a few bit pieces of advice from Buffett? I’m not sure what took me so long, but eventually I realized the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with which I was being presented, so I RSVP’ed and booked my flight and hotel. Needless to say, I was surprised/excited when I found out that the hotel most of us would be staying at was a Harrah’s. Those of you who know me can probably start to see how the trifecta is coming together.

So I got to Omaha along with a handful of my classmates at around 11pm on Thursday night. We were welcomed by the Omaha winter – 19 degrees, and not even any pretty snow to look at. Our courtesy shuttle (we were staying at a Harrah’s, remember) dropped us off, and we quickly checked in, dropped our bags off and headed to the casino. Several hours later, I was up $60 or so thanks to some fantastic rolling by a fellow-Patel classmate as well as a dealer who paid me (on a double down, no less!) on my 17 against his 19. In my defense, I had given money back that I had not earned not once, but TWICE, that night. I figured if the dealers can’t keep track well enough to avoid three mistakes, it’s no longer my responsibility to keep correcting them. Besides, it was pretty late, and I figured if bad karma started to kick in, I would simply walk away after a couple bad hands in a row and call it a night.

After sleeping five hours (thank God the Harrah’s stopped serving liquor at 1:30 a.m., or else I would have been suffering from a serious hangover), I woke up, got ready and we headed over to Berkshire Hathaway’s offices. As a sidebar, if you’ve never been to Omaha, and I assume/hope that you haven’t, it’s got rural suburbia written all over it. Modest houses, no traffic. It actually reminded me a lot of the intro to The Office, where they show Scranton, PA. Steve Carell, however, is no Warren Buffett. And I didn’t see anyone who was even remotely as cute as Jenna Fischer. Anyways, we get to the offices, where we were joined by another 60 or so students from an MBA program in Brazil as well as undergrads from Omaha’s local university, Creighton, the alma mater of the great 3-point shooting specialist Kyle Korver, who I just found out 15 seconds ago on Wikipedia was born in Lakewood, CA, right next to my own hometown of Cerritos.

We were then treated to about two hours of Q&A with the great Mr. Buffett. The questions were pre-screened by one representative from each of the three schools. Buffett, however, had no idea what was going to be asked, and it didn’t matter, because the man knows so much about so many different things that he really couldn’t have done anything more to prepare himself anyways. He talked about everything from Investing (obviously), how to get girls (give them See’s Candies – a company owned by Berkshire, and NOT Russell Stover chocolates), and politics (despite being one of the wealthiest men in America, he adamantly opposes eliminating the estate tax and instead believes income/payroll taxes on lower-income workers should be dramatically reduced). While Mr. Buffett didn’t really say anything in the talks that I am likely to remember even a year or two from now, I will always remain impressed by his general sharpness, intelligence, and surprising sense of humor (while the fact that he’s a billionaire many times over likely got him some bonus laughs, he was actually pretty funny in his own right). And for a man of 77 years, he has an amazing memory, even recalling the locations of different CBS/ABC affiliates that The Washington Post owned in 1972 when Berkshire acquired a large stake.

After the Q&A, we all went to Piccolo Pete’s, one of several famous Omaha steakhouses. Of course, Omaha is known for their beef, and one of the things I was most looking forward to about the trip was enjoying a true Omaha Steak. Unfortunately, since Buffett was footing the bill for 100 or so hungry students, it was a prix fixe menu with a pretty underwhelming steak (I would have much rather spent $50 and paid for a proper slab of beef, but whatever). Technically, though, I did have an Omaha steak, thus completing the trifecta of the trip – gambling, investing, and steak.

Rise of the Native Son

2007-12-11T15:47:00.000-08:00

OK, lame title, I know. But I have two finals and a term paper due tomorrow, and I wanted to get this quick post in. For those who don't have CNBC on at work, and even more so for those who don't know what CNBC is, today marks what I'd say is a pretty historic day for Indians in the Western business world. Earlier today, Citigroup named Vikram Pandit its new CEO, effective immediately.

Of course, there have been Indian CEO's of American companies before (including Indra Nooyi, who is CEO and ChairWOMAN of another huge American icon, PepsiCo). With few exceptions, however, none of these individuals have been very "public" figures, whether due to their Companies' small sizes, their own personalities, whatever. The reason I think this is historic is because of the public face that bank CEOs have with investors and with Wall Street generally (had there not been even bigger news in the markets today, I would have guaranteed that Pandit's picture would be plastered on the front page of tomorrow's Journal). Because of this, unlike even Nooyi, who runs a company worth over $120 billion, most people even remotely interested in the markets have known who Pandit is for several years, dating back to his tenure at Morgan Stanley.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm rooting for Pandit to succeed (full disclosure: I do not directly own Citi shares). No, I wasn't born in India. Hell, the most successful Indian businessperson I know personally, my dad, was born in Nairobi! But I have to imagine that his success, or lack thereof, will determine how wide doors open for Indian businesspeople in this country, regardless of where they were born. Citi, after all, was at one point the most valuable bank in the country (until a lawyer took over and basically ran it face-first into the ground). It'll be interesting to see what happens, as the Company is an absolute mess right now. Let's just hope the new Chairman ("Sir" Win, obviously) and the rest of the Board gives him time to clean it up. Go Vikram!!!

Ignorant or Uneducated???

2007-12-08T20:22:00.000-08:00

As super-conservative Presidential Candidate Mike Huckabee continues to gain grounds in national polls of Republican voters, the spotlight on him is unsurprisingly brightening. The latest? This AP story discussing some written Huckabee statements regarding HIV/AIDS back in the early 90s.

My gut reaction to this was "nice knowing you, former potential Republican nominee Mike Huckabeee." But then I read the bulk of the article (something which I fear many will not). And it got me thinking. Were these statements those of an ignorant, gun-toting, gay-bashing Southerner? Or those of someone who was simply uneducated on the topic?

I tried to recall what, if anything, I knew about AIDS back in 1992. Of course, that was a long time ago (sadly, many, many years before I could actually convince a girl to sleep with me such that I had to worry about safe sex). All I can really remember was that, as of 1992, HIV/AIDS was the disease that killed Magic Johnson. Of course, Magic did not die from the virus, and has actually gone on to live a pretty healthy, very successful career post-NBA. I'd have to guess that his biggest health concern these days is to avoid gaining any more weight cuz then even the Big & Tall stores won't have anything for him.

Anyways, I guess my point is this. While at first many people will react the way I did and assume that Huckabee is just a homophobic ingorant biyatch, he's probably not. Before passing judgment (on a candidate I would NEVER vote for, FYI), one should think about all that we've learned about HIV/AIDS over the past 15 years. Now if we could just find a way to isolate the carriers of the other plague known as Republicanism. Actually, I guess that's what the Central and Mountain time zones are for.

Props to Unions

2007-11-20T11:14:00.000-08:00

Yes, I mean that. Don't get me wrong. I HATE unions. But check out this article. Unions have done what I previously thought was impossible. They've made French people even lazier.

What Would You Do With $20k???

2007-11-13T14:13:00.000-08:00

Well, it doesn't really matter. I just read this article about a Congressional estimate of the total economic impact of the war in Iraq. I consider myself pretty knowledgable when it comes to world events and politics, but even I was shocked when I got to the 5th paragraph. Over $20k per family of 4 will be spent on the war through 2008. Of course, I am not 4 people, but since 2002, I've likely paid close to the same amount of federal taxes as the "average" family of 4. While I'm still doing OK financially, aside from the mountains of b-school debt I have, it's still depressing to think of all the ways I could spend $20k (disclaimer: I understand I haven't actually paid $20k in additional taxes yet, but who do you think will eventually be paying for all these Bush-era budget deficits?). So what does $20,900 mean to me?

- Almost 18 months of rent
- Anywhere between 10-30 weekends in Vegas
- Almost 7,000 Washington Apple shots (inside joke from this past weekend)
- 6 or 7 more trips to go watch the Superbowl (yes, I know the Eagles won't play in another Superbowl in my life)
- And, of course, 1,045 lappies

For the sake of the gentlemen's club industry, PLEASE end this war Pres. Bush.

A Stroll Down Memory Lane...

2007-11-01T00:00:00.001-07:00

A crazy sequence of events has happened over the last 10 or so hours. Well, not "events", per se...but anyways. For once in my life, I'll just get to the point.

As I was sitting in my Entertainment Marketing class today, I noticed a guy sitting behind me whose name plate (we all have these name plates that we put up in class so Profs know who they are talking to) says "Alexander Du". I had seen the guy, who is in my year, plenty of times before, but never really had a conversation with him, let alone noticed his full name until today.

Anyways, the reason I noticed his name was because, back when I was in elementary school (waaaaayyy the fuck back - 1st-3rd grade), I had a friend named Alex Du. In fact, he was my best friend at the time (sorry, Anuj/Shashank). Given that I transferred out of the school, El Dorado, at the end of 3rd grade, I honestly don't remember if I ever even said a proper goodbye to Alex, or if I kept in touch with him for even a little while after that. I mean, it was literally 19 years ago, and this was obviously in the days before 3rd graders carried cellphones. And I've had a lot of "memory lapses" since then. I digress.

So later this evening, when I got home, I opened up the UCLA Anderson Class of 2008 Facebook (basically a Yearbook, except no "Have a great summer!" and "KIT"s written at the end of it). I wanted to see where this kid was from, and, sure enough, he is from Orange, CA, where El Dorado is located, and graduated college the same year I did. So rather than waiting to see him on campus, I sent him an email, asking if he went to El Dorado for 1st and 2nd grade.

About a half an hour later, this is the response I got:

"Yes I did! You know what’s funny is that I thought I asked you about this during the 80s party last year, and you gave me a weird look, so I thought I was a moron because I thought you were someone that you weren’t."

For reference, the 80s Party was last September, at the end of Orientation when I was but an innocent 1st year. It was an open bar, which probably explains a) why I gave him a weird look and b) why I don't remember the incident one little bit.

In any event, I am totally amazed by what has just happened. What are the odds you somehow randomly re-connect with your best friend from 19 f*cking years ago??? I was admittedly a little surprised I even remembered his full name to notice it. I'm looking forward to having lunch with him next week, to share memories of naptime (save the gay jokes) and skipping Kindergarden. Ahhh, a simpler time.

The End of an Era

2007-10-17T21:11:00.000-07:00

Ok. A few years doesn't really qualify as an era. A genre maybe? Who the hell knows.

Anyways, today is a sad day for blogs/bloggers everywhere, particularly myself. While I know I have only a handful or so of regular readers (evidently my whining about my favorite sports teams and least favorite politicians isn't that interesting to the layman), I try to keep my blog relatively up-to-date. Obviously, this largely means posting on a regular basis. While I have admittedly taken some long hiatuses, I think I do a fairly good job of this.

Other bloggers, unfortunately, don't. And that's the other part of keeping my blog up-to-date. As you can see, I have links on the side to several of my friends' blogs, most of which are infinitely more entertaining than mine. Today, you might notice, there's a few less links than there were the last time you were on my site. A couple removals were 3rd party/commercial-type blogs. The biggest "missing link", if you will, is that to Terence's blog. Or, should I call it, Terence's OLD blog. Mofo hasn't posted in close to two months! It's really sad, because Terence's blog, which in its heyday was wildly entertaining, was my inspiration to start a blog (that, and having nothing else to do at my previous job). Over time, just as people evolve, so do blogs. Terence's eventually evolved into, frankly, not much more than a hip-hop portal with the occasional "this is what's going on in my life" post. This worked out well for T, as readership seemed to jump (from randoms all over the world), but I missed the old stuff and am not really into the same kind of hip hop that he is.

Over the last two months, everyone has suffered. I've called T out on this several times, and he really hasn't defended himself, admitting he has no excuse for the loooooong break. While he was in Africa for a while, he's been back for over a month, and the motherfucker ain't got no job! (and he doesn't smoke, so it's not like he has a valid excuse to be sleeping half the day). Anyways, T, your time has run out, and the link, for now is gone. It can be won back...maybe this will serve as a bit of a kick-in-the-ass. Probably not.

We interrupt regularly scheduled programming...

2007-10-14T10:29:00.001-07:00

I know I still have a lot of posting to do about my vacation. But what happened last night warrants an audible.

Most of you probably know what I'm talking about. It started around 4:30 p.m., as #17 Kentucky knocked off #1 LSU in a triple-overtime thriller. Anuj, his brother Anish and Neel, who were over at my place to watch Cal-Oregon State, joined me in celebration. Part of it, for me at least, was personal, as I hate LSU Coach Les Miles for comments he has made about Pac-10 football, including my beloved alma mater Cal. But most of the celebration was because Cal, as the #2 team in the country, was in position to capture the #1 ranking for the first time since my parents were 4 years old. Rankings, to some extent, are meaningless, at least at this point in the season, but it was an exciting proposition nevertheless.

Well, any male reader knows what happens next. Cal was, for the most part, outplayed over the course of the next several hours. Angry Cal fans/alums will point to one of two things: 1) Coach Tedford deciding to try for one more play, rather than just taking the FG opportunity and trying to win in overtime, or 2) Redshirt Freshman QB Kevin Riley's admittedly inexplicable (the AP recap of the game actually used the word 'inexplicably' - you don't see that too often from one of today's most objective media sources) decision to scramble with 14 seconds left in the game and no timeouts. I, however, look at the fact that Cal's defense couldn't get off the field on 3rd down all game, or that supposed Heisman candidate DeSean Jackson had 4 catches for all of 5 yards, or that super-sensational true freshman Jahvid Best fumbled when he was (gently) bumped into by one of his own men, or that we couldn't punch it in on 4 tries after we had 1st and goal from the 2 (horrible play calling, btw). We lost that game over the course of it, not on any one decision/play.

In any event, it doesn't really matter what the reason is. We lost, and 15 hours later, I still can't think of a more painful way to lose a game and, more importantly, an opportunity, a possibility, that we might get to play for the national title in January (no matter what Aashish or anyone else says, I don't think there's a chance in hell that the title game is even a remote possibility anymore). I was obviously too depressed to go out and party last night, so I tried to cheer myself up with ice cream and a (mediocre) Chris Rock movie with Seema. Worked for a little while, but I still woke up hurting.

Now, I'm sitting and hoping the Eagles (up 10-6 on the really crappy J-E-T-S) and/or my fantasy football team can salvage the weekend. Also wondering if 10:47 a.m. is too early to numb the pain with some good scotch. I think I'll wait 13 more minutes. 10:47 is still morning. 11 is daytime.

The Vacay - Part I

2007-10-03T21:55:00.000-07:00

OK guys. Sorry, it's been a LONG time since I've posted. But it's been a bit tough. I was traveling for most of September, and the people I consider my blogging "peers" - G and T – haven’t blogged since Britney had custody of her kids, so I haven't had that kick-in-the-ass that I sometimes need to write.

Anyways, I last posted on or around my last day of work, and the time since then has been a whirlwind of buses, planes and ferries (no, not another reference to G and T). Oh. And liquor. Lots and lots of liquor. So forgive me if I've forgotten many of the details of Year 27 Month 7 of my life.

The first weekend of the vacay was spent up in the Bay Area. After a solid pre-party at Aashish’s place, complete with mini-Reese’s PB Cups and Chips Ahoys, we headed to a lounge called Roe, where I got a chance to see every Indian I knew in college. It was great catching up with friends I hadn’t seen in a while, and doing Patron shots with old, married friends. Speaking of which, the #2 highlight of Friday night was Rishi C. pestering me to go play poker with him and some of his GSB buddies after the club, me declining, Rishi sending me a text message at around 6am calling me a pu**y for not going, and then Rishi not waking up until the next afternoon, too hungover to drink before the big game. Well played, my friend. Not surprising, coming from a GSB’er.

What was the #1 highlight of Friday night, you ask? Well, after Aashish decided to get dragged around with all the girls in our group (really not as cool as it sounds), it presented a challenge as to how I was gonna get back into his apartment when the night was over. The fact that both of us were ass-backwards drunk did not help the matter. Fortunately, after a couple 2am phone calls, I was finally able to get a hold of Aashish, who said he was back at his apartment. “Will you be up when I get there?”, I somehow had the sense to ask. “Yes” came the seemingly-honest response. After dropping off G, the cab rolled up to Aashish’s building and I called him. No answer. Fuck. I didn’t even have a way to get into his building, let alone his apartment. Hooray! A tenant happened to be getting home at the same time, so I followed her and her boyfriend in. Not recognizing me as a fellow tenant, she gave me a weird look, so I told her that I was staying with a friend (Aashish was getting dangerously close to slipping out of the proverbial ‘friend zone’) and took the stairs up to Aashish’s floor so as not to scare the poor girl any further. Maybe I’ll get lucky and his drunk ass left the door unlocked. Nope. I start ringing the doorbell and pounding on the door. Nada. Start calling his phone. I HEAR the phone ringing in his apartment. So he is indeed home. No answer. Having a well-documented travel history with Aashish, he probably can’t hear the damn phone over his snoring. I send a couple dirty text messages – not the kind of dirty messages I send Seema – but stuff like “Die slowly”. Nothing. Call Deepa to see if she might be able to help in any way whatsoever. Unsurprisingly, she just delayed the whole process by 5 minutes. Finally, I decide to suck it up and call G and see if I can crash at his place. He was nice enough to have his roommate – probably the only sober person we knew in all of SF - drive back to Aashish’s, pick me up, and I crashed on his recliner that night. Thanks G. Fuck you Aashish.

The next day was spent in Berkeley, of course, for what espn.com had pretty much labeled “The Revenge Game.” It was an appropriate name for me personally, having spent a few days and a small fortune in the Deep South (Knoxville) last year only to watch Cal get run off the field. Since the Tennesseans were generally quite hospitable last year, I tried to return the favor by limiting the inbreeding and other redneck jokes. But I have to admit I was surprised, and upset, about the sea of orange that took over the city of MY alma mater. Those Southerners really do take their football seriously. Anyways, there’s not a whole lot to write about here. Basically a lot of beer, a little Top Dog (thanks for standing in line Deeps!), and potentially the only Cal score I will remember for the rest of my life: Cal 45, Tennessee 31. (For the record, I also remember Cal 52, Virginia Tech 49, but that’s mainly because I have a t-shirt with the final score printed on it – definitely not because I actually remember the game, which I don’t). The kinda depressing part of the whole thing was that I wasn’t all that excited about the win. Don’t get me wrong – I was very happy – but it was much more ‘relief’ than it was ‘excitement’. That’s how I am with sports. I tend to assume my teams are gonna suck (having gone to Cal, and being a Mets and Eagles fan, I’m usually right) but even when they lose I’m still ridiculously depressed. And when “we” do well? Then it’s just relief. Not excitement. Maybe that will change if any of my teams ever wins a friggin championship. If.

After the game, we were all too exhausted to drink, let alone stand up, so we ate some Mario’s (best Mexican in Berkeley, hands down), and headed home. The rest of the weekend was basically drinking, a couple strippers, a fantasy football draft (Philip Rivers? What was I thinking?!), some more drinking, 3am pizza, and some drunken Wii tennis (just like in real life, my serve blows).

That’s all for now. I was planning on doing one long post for the entire vacation, but I figure this is long enough for all of us for the time being. Chicago, Croatia, Boston and New York to follow...and hopefully some pictures as well.

Ain't Nothin Like Them Summer Nights...

2007-08-29T09:03:00.000-07:00

Well, the summer is winding down to an end. For most of you anyways. For me, it’s just beginning. Friday is the final day of my internship, and then I’m off for 4 weeks. Gotta love graduate school. I’ll be doing a lot of traveling – mostly domestic, but also 8 days in Croatia (apparently the new Riviera spot). Have you ever noticed that when you travel domestically, you never really do any sightseeing? Even when you go to places you haven’t ever been, do you kinda just go to hang out and party? For instance, 2 years ago, I went to Chicago to vyatisit and meet up with some friends, and all we did was eat, drink, and watch a Cubs game. My only lasting memories? Being served drinks while waiting in the long line for the club (a fantastic idea which needs to catch on in Hollywood), and falling off my subway seat after coming back from the Cubs game (no explanation necessary).

So next week when Aashish and I visit Manish in Chi-town, in addition to going to a Cubs game (which fortunately will not require a subway trip this time around since Manish now lives in Wrigleyville), I’ve requested that we do some “Chicago” stuff. Sears Tower, Michigan Avenue, maybe an architectural boat tour that we’ve heard good things about. And of course some deep dish. Hopefully by the end of the trip, when I’ll be visiting Boston and NYC, I’ll still have some motivation and energy to check out some major landmarks and/or museums.

Anyways, I’ll try to post any interesting stories that come up as I travel. In the meantime, I can’t really concentrate right now as I, as many of you readers might be, am super-stoked about Cal-Tennessee. Saturday, 5 p.m. Primetime. National TV. Time for revenge for my painful trip to Knoxville last year. Go Bears!

The most interesting thing going on these days, however, is work. That’s right – work. My boss must know me well already. Trying to avoid the typical “check-out” week that most people go through at the end of their internships, my boss assigned me an interesting little project. Vegas. That’s right, Vegas. My boss asked me to take a look at the casino companies and see if there are any interesting investment opportunities I can come up with in a few days. While it has been a lot of typical dull research, it has been one of the most interesting projects I’ve had to work on all summer, probably in my life. It’s just fun learning things about Vegas that don’t involve Smitty’s dirty hook-up stories. For instance – did you know that casinos on the Strip earn only 40% of their revenues from gambling, with a whopping 20% from food and beverages? And that they earn slightly more profit in aggregate from slot machines than they do from all the table games combined?

OK - if those random financial stats don’t interest all you party animals out there, I also learned that a new club (Blush) is opening at the Wynn on Labor Day weekend, the Luxor is gradually losing its Egyptian theme and adding a bunch of upper-scale bars and clubs, and the company that owns the Venetian is opening a major expansion called the Palazzo in late 2007. Also, the average table game (i.e. per blackjack or craps or 3-card table) netted the Wynn over $10,000 per day. Meaning I’m just a tiny little drop in the bucket. I guess that wasn’t really new information though.

Can't Islam and Capitalism Just Get Along???

2007-08-16T14:19:00.000-07:00

Evidently, they can.