At school with about a week of school left I was stopped by a girl.
Would I want to go out with her best friend?!
I did some quick thinking. The obvious answer was: no.
I didn’t want to go out with anybody.
I’d found girls pretty, or at least appealing since I was young. I’d just never wanted to date a girl. Really, I didn’t mind not talking to them. I liked it a lot if they found me funny, and I liked to imagine dating girls – but reality is much harder to control than my imagination, so I stuck with that.
I had no confidence. I was a romantic conspiracy theorist. Why did that girl just smile at me? Oh, it’s a joke! That’s so mean! Any thing that should’ve been perceived as a girl having a crush on me I saw as some attempt for me to lower my guard, only to then be made fun of.
But if this girl wanted to date me until I moved, whatever floats her boat.
Thus began my romantic life!

You’d think – with me ‘going steady’ (that’s just funny to me), that my life would change a lot.
I’d have to sit with the girl at lunch, or nearby her at class, or walk with her in the hallways – but no, none of this happened. Looking back, I probably was supposed to do these things.
I assumed our relationship was just in title, not in deed. So she could say, “yeah, that’s my boyfriend over there … He’s so … Oh … Don’t look at him, he’s trying to figure out how much of his peanut butter sandwich he can fit in his mouth at once. Gross.”
Unfortunately, I didn’t know until then that middle school girls love the telephone.
“Hello … may I ask who’s calling? … Oh! … One second! … BRAD!”
Who would call me? I thought, Why is my mom grinning?
“Hello?”
“Hey Brad!”
What? First, who calls me? Second, a girl?!

I came to realize it was the “girlfriend.” And her friend who had asked me out.
I got the cordless and headed to my room. Once I was in my room I was sure a family member (possibly several, led by my mother) would creep up and eavesdrop. Fuel for making fun of me.
I didn’t want to be talking on the phone – it cut into my video game time. Or TV time. Or playing with my dog. Or anything-but-talking-on-the-phone time.

One day the two called and they sang me a song. Yes, they sang to me. At the conclusion of the phone call I applied my best charm to say, “Yeah … well … it stinks about my going to New York, huh?”
“Huh?”
“Ya know, New York …”
“You’re going on a trip to New York!!”
“Ha, no! I’m moving … there …”
Uh oh. Had I forgotten …
“… What?”

I had forgotten to tell everyone but my closest friends that I was moving. And my closest friends didn’t include a single female. I hadn’t thought much of it but this was especially bad because we lived off-Post in Kansas so my friends didn’t up and move like clockwork. What a weird concept!

My budding love came to a screeching halt. All blame, of course, goes to the U.S. Army.
How dare you, wrecker of love!

My family got in the car and left West Point, New York for Savannah, Georgia on January 1, 2000. The day all the computers were supposed to blow everything up.

When we arrived we made our home at the Hunter Army Airfield guest housing. Essentially, a hotel for Military families.

Sometime during that initial period in Georgia I had my first experience  with southern charm (that I could remember – I was born in North Carolina but don’t remember any of it).

Naturally, it occurred in a Waffle House.

To those of you who have never experienced a Waffle House, I’m sorry. They’re not the cleanest restaurants, or the most delicious, or the best-staffed but … you love them all the same.

The waitress came up to our booth and asked around the table to see what we wanted to eat.

One by one the orders were made.

Eventually, I believe I was last to order, she got to me.

“How bout you sweety?”

… Sweety … Really? … I … I mean my family’s here and you’re a lot older and clearly a heavy smoker but … I mean I guess I … Sure I try to be sweet but … I mean for you to realize that just by looking at me … All right, yeah we can go on a date sometime but … Well let’s not call it a date let’s just say we’re “hanging out” and we’ll see … Sweety? … Well, you’re sweet too and …

I was taken aback.

I had never been called a sweety before by a stranger. Possibly only my mom and some other friends of hers had called me a sweety.

But for this stranger to call me sweety! How nice!

There were a number of moments like this where I adjusted to the switch between New York and Georgia. It turns out, the North and South are different in a few ways.

***

At a diner near our home in New York the guy behind the counter would yell at you to see what you wanted. This my family loved – what’s not to love? Table-side manners are out, yelling is IN. But you know, I think I’m also ok with being called sweety.

Soapbox? Well, world, we’re all not so different, you know? Cultural differences and what-not, but what’s that? That’s something to appreciate! Take it in! Love it! It’s amazing how different we all are. If ever there was a reason to be impressed with mankind it is because of the amazing complexity of the human race. Between one person and the next. Seriously.

Also the fall was not intentional. That stupid box was really hard to get out of.

The past few weeks have been very stressful to me, and I’m about to whine about stuff like I did before (blah blah blah), but I’ll try and keep it interesting (read: I’ll make fun of myself).

Last week (le what?!) I found an apartment. This week I started at my new job. Today my co-captain of the move left. The co-captain was more commonly called: mom, ma, and her favorite, lady (she has proclaimed this website “the greatest space on the internet. period.” Note: my brother and sister do not have websites).

When I moved to California about 2 years ago (Feb 5, 2008), my mom came with me to do much the same as we did this trip. Apartment hunt, furniture shop and drive me to work the first day (this mama’s boy tradition dates back to my first internship).

When she drove me to work the first day in California, she then drove around and did some errands, and finally caught a flight to go home – all before I got home from work. So, as she dropped me off for work (a little ways away from the location so my co-workers wouldn’t see that my mom drove me to work – I’m an ADULT now!) it was our final goodbye. I saw that she was upset, which made me upset. And that, combined with the scariness of my first real job, a new home where I knew pretty much no one (except Anna and Whitney) … made me cry like a little girl.

I don’t deal well with emotions. I’m a boy. I’m an engineer. And at 25 I’m living in my 11th new home. I am one emotionally stunted monkey. When people see me interact with emotions it’s like watching a calf take it’s first few steps – it’s awkward, you want to help but don’t know how, and you crave veal (kidding?).

Anyhow. I decided crying like a baby was a good tradition, so as I left to walk to work today (my hotel is across the street from my work) I cried like a baby. Thankfully I walked to work looking into the sun which made it more socially acceptable. Or maybe I’m just very passionate about my first week of work.

Just a reminder, I’m an adult!

The weird thing for the crying this time was it wasn’t started by SEEING my mom be upset. I think it’s a fair guess she was sad to go, but usually my emotions are reactive – they start up when I see others emotions in action.

I think this is because I am much more stressed about this move – I feel bigger expectations (and my boss confirmed this by saying, not in these words, “this is Brad, and he thinks he’s a hot shot”), and I have an outside work project going on. Let’s just hope I don’t take to crying all the time, because that would be annoying.

But don’t worry for me – there are two bright spots.

At my work there are a lot of acronyms, and an acronym finder. When I was reading through some documents today one of the acronyms I came across was my brother’s name. I found this funny so I ended up looking up acronyms for my and my family’s initials. This is surprisingly entertaining to me, but that is maybe a bad sign.

The real bright spot is this. I work in Texas. And one of my co-workers names is … Peggy Hill! Are you serious!? How great is that?

Goodbye Silicon Valley, Hello Houston

At work on December 9 (2009) I got an email from a guy in Houston. I had applied for a job down there a while back.

A little background – the economy has affected my company as it has so many, and the original assignment I’d been doing since being hired was cut. My last day doing that was September 30th. Since then I’ve been bouncing around to short-term assignments and looking for a long-term one. It has been incredibly frustrating because I have not known when/if I’ll be moving, and I figured if I ended up on company overhead for a while then I would be out of a job.

I had received some word from Houston before which led me to believe they were interested in me. And the job description matched pretty well with work I had been doing before so I felt pretty strong about my chances.

On December 9th I talked with my potential future-manager and I asked a few questions about the work. He didn’t know much about what I would be doing exactly (programming stuff). This worried me because how does he know I’m a good fit if he doesn’t know better about what I’ll be doing … But, one bright spot from the conversation was that he said he’d decided to hire me and then realized he’d never once spoken to me. This either means he’s a really bad manager, or my recommendations from the other folks I’ve worked with were good. Actually now I’m worried about that, too.

I’m not sure how evident this is in other things I’ve posted – but for random people reading this I’m a glass half-empty kind of guy.

Anyway. I am still unsure if I’ll get the job – paperwork stuff has to be sorted out. My potential start-date as of right now would be January 11th which doesn’t give me much time left in California.

When I move to Houston I want to move to a place where I’ll have roommates. I really like having my own space and apartment, but I took a long time before I made any friends and I don’t want to repeat that.

I got in bed last night and pictured myself in bed the night before my first day of (potential) work in Houston. That’s a very depressing thought.

New work. New home. Don’t know anybody. Have to prove myself. Not sure if I can do my work well. Won’t know the co-workers quirks or what they’ll be like. An outside of work-project I’ll be doing – it’s part of work but it’s during my free time (read: lots of unpaid overtime). I’m worried about how I’ll perform with that as well. To sum it up: oy.

Also, I’ve liked the Silicon Valley way more than I thought I would. This is the 10th different place I’ve lived and usually I don’t miss or really appreciate a place until I’ve moved. I think being unsure if/when I’ll move for the past three months has had the silver lining of helping me to appreciate California sooner. Also, I figured from the start I wouldn’t be here for too long so I’ve tried to get out and do a fair amount.

Anyway – I’m just venting and expressing my frustrations. If the job works out it will be really nice to know where I’ll be living for at least a year (the assignment length). Also I went to college in Dallas so I could drive up there to visit some friends. And my sister really wants to go to South by Southwest (SxSW) in Austin, so we can meet there for that. AND, Houston’s not too far from New Orleans and I’ve never been there. I call this paragraph: glass half full ish (ish being the radio version of a certain s word).

I’ll say this in person as well – but I want to thank JMinnie and Theresa (who you may have seen write comments on the blog) for putting up with me and helping to make California as fun as it was. And all of the folks I met through them as well.

Enough sissy stuff. I’m going to watch porn and “Die Hard” and play “Grand Theft Auto” right now. All at the same time. And shotgun a beer. Boo yah.

***
This is an update – on Friday December 18th I found out some good news. I am going to start in Houston on January 25th rather than the 11th, and my work is going to pay for some of my relocation costs. Sweet!

Wish me luck random strangers, and people who know me who read this.

Good-bye Silicon Valley, hello Houston!