Fine. Here.

At the behest of a certain nagging commenter I am pulling out a blog from the vault. This was written in July on the first night of Annual Meeting. Annual Meeting is the Wood Stock of Northwestern Mutual.


I’m writing this from Milwaukee, Wisconsin—home of Miller Beer and Northwestern Mutual. Though slightly buzzed, I thought it appropriate to attempt a blog even though I have no flights of fancy as to its quality. My assumption is that it will be low. A full on headache will be coming on soon-I can feel its rumblings squeezing my temple like some huge alcohol derived vice. If I don’t ingest water soon this sensation will upgrade from vice to hammer and all fun will be lost.

A couple questions: Why when I drink do I get the sensation that I’m moving at an incredible speed? Everything is so sped up that the act of bending down to pick something up almost ends up in a front flip. Weird. My second question has to do with the word; blog. Why is that not a dictionary word yet? Some of the best blogs do the dictionary a huge service in using big words, which then prompts readers to access the almighty dictionary for understanding. And yet the dictionary won’t even afford the medium a proper place within its pages. Heresy. Not to mention that I am forced to look at a stupid red underlining line every time I use the word.

This trip will mark the longest time Ty and I have been apart since our marriage. Four nights away folks—that is a long ass time. I actually cried at the airport today when I was saying goodbye. To be honest I wasn’t expecting that—I didn’t even cry at our wedding! Since the separation I have been dealing ok—I’m not a total blubbering buffoon after all. I think drinking is helping with the distance although I am not entirely convinced that drinking should be my main channel with which to blanket my sadness. Probably that is the first step to alcoholism.

Right now I am waiting for my work crew to call me when they have finished dinner. Most likely they will be trashed. I had dinner with these two ladies that I didn’t know, talking about the reps that we work for (who are all in the same study group). It was minimally informative, mildly amusing and sprinkled with hints of depression. I’m not sure why, but I would be much more inclined to get drunk with someone and then discuss work than to try and discuss it sober. For one, the truth will come out a lot more freely and you will actually learn a lot more that way, for another, you’re bound to feel closer to the person after a few drinks and therefore awkwardness is reduced. It’s like that episode from The Office when Michael gets trashed with that one potential client and they end up sealing the deal once they’ve bonded. Then Mike gets some action with Jan and thus starts that whole dysfunctional fiasco. Anyway, I think its fair to say that Michael and I see eye to eye on this point.

So I’m waiting for them to call and actually wondering if they may have forgotten about me. That wouldn’t be so bad I suppose—sleep will be sounding good in about an hour (or now) and I really don’t want to bother with a taxi to where ever they are anyway. Not to mention I’ll have three more opportunities before this trip is over to hang out with them. No tears shed over missing one night.

I think I’m going to stop writing now. Getting a little tired and since I’m producing only petty babbling I don’t think stopping is going to cause too much of an uproar.


Needless to say my work crew did call and thus began a series of gregarious late nights sandwiched in between breakout sessions and dowsed in Miller Light.