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In roughly a month, I’ll turn 25.

It seems like an opportune time to stop and assess my life thus far, and by “stop and assess my life thus far,” I mean freak the hell out.

Here’s a list of typical “What the hell am I doing with my life?” reactions and a few things I should actually start to work on.

Impractical reactions to turning 25

1. Get a Tattoo 

I’ve actually wanted a tattoo for some time but have never gone through with it.

Wanted tattoo.

A quarter-life crisis seems like an appropriate time to get one. I’m young enough for it to be socially acceptable, thereby avoiding being the weird middle-aged square in the tattoo parlor.

The only question is, what to get? I’m thinking a tribal arm band made up of Chinese symbols. Those things are still cool, right guys?

Guys!?

2. Buy a Motorcycle

Do want.

Honestly, I really want a motorcycle, and I’m certain this impulse is directly related to the amount of Sons of Anarchy I watch–too much.

However, there are two huge obstacles standing in my way. One, I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle. Two, I don’t really have the money for one.

So if any readers know a generous, wealthy motorcycle enthusiast who would like to solve an existential dilemma, get at me.

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5 Indie Movies to Watch

I watch a lot of movies. I’m pretty much indiscriminate in my consumption of film because I think it’s important to take in stories in whatever form they may come. Even bad movies can teach me what not to do when I finally write my brilliant screenplay (Ha!).

Inevitably, if you see a lot of movies and live in a town with a decent arts scene (or a university), someone will want to discuss independent films.

Generally, I think of people who go on and on about foreign or indie films as Kramer put it, “art house goons.” They seem unreasonably excited about reading subtitles and will offhandedly mention a film festival half as prestigious as Sundance, but much cooler because one-tenth of the people attended.

I’m not totally above discussing independent films, though. These are a few of my favorites.

5. Box Elder

Box Elder was written and directed by Todd Sklar and follows four friends as they attempt to graduate from the University of Missouri.

Everything about it is reminiscent of my college experience at Mizzou: the local references, the set pieces, the lifestyle and the uncertainty. One of the main characters, Rennie (Alex Rennie), is basically a facsimile of my former roommate Elliot.

It would be easy to chalk up its appeal to nostalgia, but it would also be a mistake. Sure, nostalgia plays a role, but its charm comes from realism and surprising wit.

Often studios market movies about the extended adolescence of high school and college toward guys like me, but every time I watch them I find myself wondering “What the hell was that? That’s not what college was like.”

But not Box Elder. Of course it has elements of those movies—wild parties and shenanigans—but it deals with the awful and messy parts of college such as stress, uncertainty and interpersonal relationships in an extremely earnest manner.

That’s what makes it great.

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About a year and a half ago, I accepted a job at a newspaper in Kansas. I didn’t really know what to expect, and it certainly didn’t help that “What’s the Matter With Kansas?” is one of my favorite political books of all time. Upon arriving in the “Little Apple,” I wrote a post about my initial observations.

I thought it was about time to do an update. So here are my impressions of Kansas after living here for a year and a half.

6. Booze Laws Still Irritate and Confuse Me

"I'll get you beer baron!" "...No you woonnn't..."

As I mentioned previously, it was quite the shock to find out that hard liquor isn’t sold in grocery stores or gas stations, only liquor stores. It was also surprising to learn only 3.2% beer is sold in grocery stores. Also, liquor stores are only open until 11 p.m. Monday through Saturday and 7:30 p.m. on Sunday.

Living in Chicagoland for most of my life, I can confidently say there would be riots if they tried to pull that crap in Illinois.

It’s strange that there are all these restrictions in a state with a large population of ranchers, farmers, cowboys and good ole’ boys—guys that might like to buy a sixer Sunday night or grab a bottle of Jack at Wal-Mart—because some people in the state are still stuck in a prohibition-era mindset.

Also, Kansas liquor laws have managed to ruin one of the best things about being of age—HyVee’s liquor store. If you haven’t been, it’s like an amusement park, an amusement park full of alcohol.

It’s what Willy Wonka would have created if he had a drinking problem and wasn’t busy gallivanting in glass elevators with children and also enslaving an indigenous race of chocolate-loving dwarfs.

It’s inconvenient is what I’m saying.

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The holidays sidetracked my work on the blog a bit, but now I’m finally getting around to writing what I meant to post three weeks ago.

This year, I actually had vacation time to burn when Christmas rolled around, so I took a trip home. Home was great, but my flight to and from Chicago was just weird and awesome. It would be a crime not to share.

The Surprising:

For once, I had no travel problems on my way to the airport.

When I visited my brother for the Fourth of July last year, my drive to the airport, which normally takes an hour and a half (two hours on a bad day), took more than three hours due to construction.

When I got to the economy parking lot at Kansas City International Airport, it took another 15 minutes for the shuttle to pick me up. I know that doesn’t seem like a big deal, but it turned out to be the difference between me missing and making my flight. I missed my check in by five minutes.

I had to wait another two hours just for a chance to fly standby and ended up being the second to last person to get a seat.

But this time there was hardly any traffic, and the shuttle showed up right after I parked my car. It was unprecedented.

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2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 35,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 13 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Cool Confusion

This week my paper did a feature story on people learning to ice skate at the local rink. I thought it was appropriate to write a column about the subject.

*Once again, kudos if you get the reference in the title.

As a native Chicagoan, it’s probably fair to say I’m more acclimated to winter, and everything that comes with it, than most people. That’s why I was shocked, offended even, to learn that many of my co-workers and neighbors have little to no interest in hockey and even worse, legitimate fears of ice skating.

Apparently, this is terrifying.

The sports staff at the Mercury has made its indifference to hockey known on several occasions, so I won’t bother with those poor, lost individuals. However, I was more surprised to find that ice skating brings about anxiety in several Mercury staff members.

During the weekly meeting, our editor Bill Felber suggested an ice-skating story to reporter Paul Harris. Harris was open to the idea but made it known that he and ice skating don’t mix. He noted that the ice is hard and when he inevitably falls, he must also worry about a hand being sliced by and errant skate.

It was a little dramatic.

News editor Javier Gonzalez and reporter Bryan Richardson, two Houstonians, also admitted wariness toward ice skating. Richardson bragged that, at the very least, he could avoid falling (so long as he goes no faster than a snail’s pace around the rink), while Gonzalez seemed to want nothing to do with frozen sheets of water.

I have no idea what he's doing, but I'm certain he got beat up afterward.

This was all strange to me having grown up in the suburbs of Chicago where high schools have hockey teams and every other town has an ice rink, including my high school and my home town. I learned to skate at a very early age, such an early age that I had to call my mother to get an approximation.

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In Defense of Zooey D

If you’re on the Internet (you are), then you probably know who Zooey Deschanel is. The 31-year-old actress is currently starring in the Fox sitcom New Girl and recently starred in the indie dramedy (500) Days of Summer. She’s also one half of the musical duo She & Him.

However, if you spend a significant amount of time on the Internet (which you probably do because why else would you be reading my site), you’re probably also aware that people love to hate Deschanel.

And I don’t get it.

Now, this is not some sad Internet love letter to a celebrity crush. She’s not even at the top of that list; that spot goes to Alison Brie. This is an examination of a phenomenon that has no discernible cause.

People who know me know that I’m no stranger to snark and generally hating things. I just checked Billboard’s Hot 100, and I hate nine of the top 10 artists (Adele being the exception to my ire). There are also a number of TV shows and movies that you could not pay me to watch.

Hating on Deschanel should be right up my alley, but I don’t like those other things for a reason–because they’re all terrible. I just can’t see how Deschanel is worse than any other actress working today.

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Novembeard Part 6

This was the result of a month sans shaving. My newspaper actually turned the staff competition into a feature page for last weekend’s edition. This picture was above the fold of the Arts & Leisure section where I was officially declared the winner.

I’m going to confess something that seems embarrassing at first but, please citizens of the interwebz, let me plead my case before you make any kind of judgment (because the Internet is all about reason and rational judgments, right?).

I like the Goo Goo Dolls.

No, really, I’ll wait for you to stop laughing.

I know what you’re thinking: “But…but…why?” Actually, that’s a comparatively reasonable reaction. Recently, I told someone I like the Goo Goo Dolls, and she basically laughed in my face.

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Novembeard Part 5

Like I never shaved!

 

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