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About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga

Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I live in Austin, Texas, with my partner, Ray, and our child dog, Mocha. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!

Tag: ‘life’



Up in the Air

Wednesday, January 6th, 2010

If I can borrow from my new blog for a moment.

6/365: Up in the Air

I saw the movie Up in the Air on Christmas Day with my parents.  The movie, in case you haven’t seen it, stars George Clooney as a man who works for a company that gets subcontracted to assist employees with “career transitions”–essentially, this means that Clooney is the guy who gets to deliver the news that they’re being laid off, and his company supposedly offers placement services.

One of the things that I thought was a bit of a Christopher Buckley-esque touch was the “packet.”  Every employee who went through the process got a packet of information with some flowery cover and a positive inspirational message.  “Your true career awaits,” or some such bull shit.

Ray called me this morning on my cell phone.  I was in a meeting with Kim, my assistant, and almost rejected the call, but I answered it, figuring that he was calling with a quick question about condiment placement or something similar.

Instead, he was oddly formal.  “Good morning, Chris,” he said.
“Hi,” I said.
“I just wanted to call and let you know that my 12 year career at [name of employer] just ended.”
“What??”
“I just got laid off.”

I was in shock, naturally, and at the urging of my boss and several other people, I went home.  In addition to finding Ray sitting on the sofa watching a television that wasn’t actually on, I discovered that, among the paperwork that he’d brought home, was a packet just like the one that George and Anna Kendrick handed out in the movie.

I’m less enthusiastic about this as a device used in reality as opposed to in the movies.

We’re going to be OK.  Ray is, understandably, still in a daze–he worked there for 12 years.  “I’ve been with them longer than I’ve been with you,” he said at one point.  But he got a decent severance, and we’ve put together a budget, and we’ll be able to make ends meet for a while, even if we have to tighten our belt straps.

But, man … we did not see this coming.  But, that’s life, though, ain’t it?  We will get through this, no matter how unpleasant it may be.

At least Mocha will have someone to pay attention to her all day long for a while.

My Life According to Facebook

Tuesday, December 22nd, 2009

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Alan Rickman’s Answering Machine

Sunday, December 20th, 2009

OK, not the life-altering year-end post I was envisioning … that’ll come later.  Ray and I watched Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince last night, and I noticed a couple of things.  First off, the cinematography is gorgeous.  Maybe it was because we’d seen Avatar earlier in the day that I noticed it –the latter is lush and green and tropical, and Half Blood Prince is in muted tones of stone, brown, gray and yellow.  It works.  I was quite surprised to see that the films are growing up along with their characters–it’s not a kid’s movie anymore.

Oh, and, yes,  Avatar is stunning although it’s about 20 minutes too long, and I realized at some point that it is a heavy-handed film with a strong anti-imperialist/anti-colonialist message–you’ve seen that before, but it’s done particularly well (although there was a cluster of “oh, come on” moments right toward the end).

However, the one thing I noticed most of all was that … is it just me, or is Alan Rickman starting to sound more and more like a caricature of himself?  There were points in Half Blood Prince where all I could thing of is this scene from Family Guy:


It’s like Rickman saw this and decided to one-up Seth MacFarlane … and you should never try to one-up Seth MacFarlane.  Because so far, the only person who has managed to do it successfully is Marlee Matlin (if you’re easily offended, you should probably just skip ahead to the 2.42 mark).


And that’s what I’m thinking about today.  Probably wish you didn’t know that, huh?

Den eneste bøsse i landsbyen

Monday, December 14th, 2009

I got my first hit from Greenland today!  (We’ve discussed my inner stats whore earlier, so never mind that creepy bit.)

See, there it is on Mint:

stats1

What on earth brought my Greenlandic visitor to my site?  Well, I click on the little icon and I discover that what’s on the minds of today’s Greenlanders is:

stats2

A la Dr. Evil: Riiiiiight.

I get my first hit from Greenland, and it’s someone looking for gay porn.  Fabulous.

Well, then I got to thinking.  Like most of the rest of the world, what I know about Greenland is as follows: it’s not as big as it looks on maps, being the main victim of distortion put about by the Mercator projection.  It’s ruled by Denmark, as I have known from the fifth grade when we had to research it as a class project after several of us more literate types questioned our teacher when she said it was an independent country while the map in our social studies book clearly labeled it as a possession of Denmark.

Oh, and there’s some sort of asteroid on the west coast that could power the universe if only extraterrestrial worms weren’t eating peoples’ brains.  I got that last by reading Smilla’s Sense of Snow (the book being far, far better than the movie which now airs regularly on Lifetime as part of their court ordered Julia Ormond quota).  I also recall something about Greenland having low humidity (“I’ve been colder in Denmark than I ever have in Greenland”), a high rate of both alcoholism and suicide (has something to do with the long hours of night in the winter–as I recall Smilla’s brother had committed suicide), and Greenlanders being rather resentful of their forced inclusion into the Greater Danish Sphere (Smilla herself being a prime example).

And since I’m sure that author Peter Høeg is an expert on Greenland, this must all be correct…

Nuuk_night

So, I pulled it up on the Interwebz, and I discovered that Nuuk (formerly Godthåb) is one of the smallest capital cities in the world by population–right around 18,000, which comprises one quarter of Greenland’s entire population.

Which leads me to the following thought: no wonder my Greenlandic visitor was seeking out gay porn on the Internet.  The most accessible gay bar is in Copenhagen–six hours away by plane (among my other random knowledge is that it is far, far easier to fly from Greenland to Denmark than to either Canada or the U.S., even though they’re closer).  Can you imagine what it must be like trying to find a date on a Friday night?

One can imagine the drama that would ensue in the small dating pool: everyone knows everyone else’s business, that’s for sure.  Plus, it’s that part of the year when there are a scant few hours of daylight.  Who wouldn’t want to hang around the house and surf the Interwebz?

Nuuk_snow

Sure offers a new lens to the concept of being the only gay in the village, don’t it?  (BTW, the title of the post is “the only gay in the village” rendered into Danish by Google translate, and I’d be happy to change it if a real Dane happens by and wants to correct it … )

*photos by Peter Løvstrøm.  Used under a Creative Commons Attribution license.

My Life in Photographs

Wednesday, November 25th, 2009

So, I haven’t posted recently.  Well, here’s the story: on the way home from Atlanta, I was kidnapped by Tuareg nomads who happened to be roaming the luggage carousel at the Atlanta Airport for no particular reason, and I was held for a ransom of three thousand kilograms of gummy bears and a crate’s worth of the 1994 swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated.  That having been completed …

Ah, who’m I kidding.  I got a cold in Atlanta that knocked me on my back for two days, and then I got to fly to Boston at the ass crack of dawn on Saturday morning for four solid days of meetings, networking, and restaurant food.

Finally, on Monday, I managed to get out of the hotel for a whole two hours to wander up the street to Copley Place, Boston Common, and the Old Granary Burial Ground, home to such American Revolutionary Heroes as Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, and the parents of Benjamin Franklin (who is, I believe, buried in Philadelphia).

Here are some photos from my wanderings:

Trinty Church

Repetition

Alleyway

Berries

Old Granary Burial Ground

Old Granary Burial Ground

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!

 

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