Bonjour from the French Open

The French Open was so much fun. I can't wait to go again. And typical me, somehow my travel arrangements got complicated and I ended up with a $750 credit from Air France. But not sure I wanna fly Air France or at least Airbus planes these days.

Here's a photo of me from Roland Garros!

Today at Roland Garros

Jo-Wilfried Tsonga

Novak Djokovic

Jelena Jankovic

Karolina Sprem

Ivan Ljubicic

Juan Carlos Ferrero

Andy Murray

Fernando Gonzalez

Jelena Dokic

Alize Cornet

Julian Bennetteau

Arnaud Clement

Mardy Fish

Juan Carlos Ferrero

Fabrice Santoro

Christophe Rochus

Those are all the names I saw today at the French Open!  I was starstruck.  I got to see some of them so close!  I was so close that I could see the players' grips as they banged forehands and backhands.

The one thing I noticed--Andy Murray is gigantic.  I never realized he was so tall.

The best part of today.  Seeing The Fila Boys:  James Blake & Dmitry Tursunov & Rainer

 Schuettler.  Too bad two out of the three lost yesterday.  But at least they all have their looks to rely on.  Hmmm.  I don't know who I'd pick if i had the choice.

Pretty Flowers

This song makes me smile (and a little sad)

I'm Wearing My Birthday Suit Today

Happy Birthday to me.

Yes, I've been lame and haven't updated.  I've had some drama in my life with work being super-busy, buying some new suits, one of which I'm wearing today for my birthday (a couple were for a wedding, and another because I'm obsessed with everything that Daniel Craig wears) and some dating drama. But the biggest obstacle to blogging has been furniture drama!  Next week, it should (fingers-crossed) be all resolved, and then I can finally get comfortable in my new apartment and return to blogging!

Hope everyone is well (including the bloggers who I haven't caught up with lately)!

Stay Tuned!

Aww-right, I have figured out what I need to get back into the blogging game. My couch!

So I've been in my new apartment on the Upper East Side (Lincoln Center, I miss you!) for about a month now. At first, I was going to keep all my old furniture. But then I decided that I needed to cheer myself up getting all new stuff. Leave it to me. I'll save the economy!

In the meantime, work has been so busy that unpacking has been a long, drawn-out affair. And I also decided to explore the strange world of craigslist by selling my furniture, an episode of my life, which produced much drama over such rare and coveted items as a TV stand and a lamp with no shade.

Anyhow, the point is when I get settled in my apartment, I expect to be back at blogging. And when will that be? When the douchebags at Salvation Army finally pick up my couch! Would you believe that they actually STOOD ME UP last week?

It's late now, and tomorrow I'm off work to head down to Philadelphia for a friend's bachelor party. Stay tuned next week for TCho's World 2009!

Hello?

Anyone still stopping by?

Damn, I'm Broke

Just shelled out some major moolah for my new apartment.  It's ramen noodles for me tonight.

Holy Crap, I'm Tired

5 Vodka Martinis

+

2 shots of tequilla

+

1 weird-tasting lime flavored beer

+

1 joint

=

One TIRED-ASS TCho with a pounding headache!

TCho's Late Take On Important News

While surfing the internet (don't ask me what I was searching for), I came across this two year old story about a Dr. Breedlove who claims to be able to create gay rats or rats "showing much more feminine behavior." By the way, "Breedlove" has to be made up. It's almost too cute of a name. Like Bernard Made-off.

I can only imagine what the conversation between two of Dr. Breedlove's rats might be like:

Rat 1: "Where the hell were you?"

Rat 2: "The guy in the white coat took me to the other cage for some tests."

Rat 1: "Are you ok? You don't look so good."

Rat 2: "I feel a little weird."

Rat 1: "Here, have some water."

Rat 2: "Ewwww, that water? It's been sitting out for days. I want a Cosmo. Oh and what is up with those woodchips over there, bitch? They're all soggy and icky."

Rat 1: "What are you talking about? We always drink that water. And who cares about the woodchips?"

Rat 2: "You know, this place is a mess!"

Rat 1: "A mess? It hasn't changed in 2 years."

Rat 2: "So what do you want to do tonight?"

Rat 1: "I don't know. Run on the wheel. Sleep. The usual."

Rat 2: "Booooring. Let's do something fun."

Rat 1: "Like what?"

Rat 2: "Let's go dancing!"

Rat 1: "We're rats. We don't dance. We eat and we sleep."

Rat 2: "OMG, do we have any ice cream. I shouldn't eat it though. I'm getting so fat."

Rat 1: "Um, you're acting really...."

Rat 2: "Do you think they have any low-cal rat food? I bet it's delish."

Rat 1: "I think you need to go take a nap. They gave you something strong this time."

Rat 2: "Ok, a nap sounds fab. Will you take one with me?"

Rat 1: "This is ridiculous. I'm going on the wheel."

Rat 2: "I'll miss you."

Oh. I Didn't Notice You There

You ever have one of those weeks (or days) where all of a sudden you wake up and it's the end of the week and you're like, "Huh? That went by fast." Actually, I don't really mean that you woke up and you can't belive it all happened so quickly. Instead I mean like you can't actually remember the past few days?

That's how I feel this month. I can't believe today is Christmas and almost the end of December. The recent days and weeks have been a blur, and not because of weeks of debauchery and me waking up with a bottle of Jack Daniels in my arm and shooing a strange cat out of my bathroom. Work has been batshit crazy, and then I had the longest cold in the history of all colds.

Today, I woke up and revisted some of my favorite blogs and discovered some new ones, which made me think, "Man I hope I didn't blog anything stupid in my own blog." And then I was relieved when I realized I hadn't really blogged anything.

I guess sometimes it's a good thing that I haven't been the best at keeping up with stuff around here. While this is supposed to be a quasi-account of my life, the bottom line is if it's not amusing, no one really cares. And sometimes I just don't feel funny. Sometimes I feel anxious, or sad, or unusual, or like a carebear. And Carebears aren’t really witty, they’re just cheerful, which isn’t all that interesting.

(As an aside, I learned today from watching VH1's I Love Toys that Carebears apparently had some sort of weapon of mass destruction that was like this beam of light that shot out of their chests and injected enough cheeriness into their targets to make them feel like Santa Claus on Prozac having an orgy. Geez, imagine what a Carebear on crack would do with that kind of power.)

I've also been checking up on Facebook and reading up on "Status Updates" from everyone. And I've come to cop out and write some short status updates for myself instead of sitting down at my blog, which is really all I've had time for lately. After all, it's not news unless it's on Facebook.

Not that I haven't tried to write something here. I have a few entries with a sentence or two. But in the style of Facebook, here are some updates on how I've felt over the past couple of weeks.

A Couple Weeks Ago - I Cleaned Out At The Saks Sale

SYNOPSIS: I felt like I was at an outlet store with bargain shoppers

EMOTION: Triumphant Carebear.

Last Week - Why I Love My Staple Remover

SYNOPSIS: Because it's tortoise-shell, and not enough things are.

EMOTION: Sad for the poor tortoises Carebear.

Last Friday - I Had Doughnuts For Lunch Today

SYNOPSIS: They were delicious.

EMOTION: Gross Carebear

Yesterday - Boy, Is Work An Absolute Clusterfuck Today

SYNOPSIS: That's about it.

EMOTION: Anxious Carebear

See? Why waste my time with 2,000 superfluous words? More importantly, why waste my precious emotional resources? A man shares only so much over the course of his life. While women may be renewable wellsprings of emotion and feeling, men are like small ponds. And as women and blog readers sip from them like deer in a forest, they are depleted until finally one day they are empty, which is the day you buy your first recliner. (Did any of what I just wrote make any sense?)

Besides, sometimes I don’t know what my goal is with all this writing and sharing. Maybe I'm starving for attention. Then again, I seem to be fine with being my normal old self. But take Rastus who is the guy on the Cream of Wheat Box. Rastus is actually Frank “Irony” White, a chef who posed for the box way back in 1900 when Cream of Wheat was actually made solely by black men in hats named Rastus.

Then, in 1938, Frank White passed away, a virtual unknown, with a blank gravestone. The man is on the Cream of Wheat box and he can’t even get a friggin “RIP, Rastus. Keep on creamin’ that wheat up in the Big Kitchen”? Finally, almost 70 years later, some guy started a campaign to get him a proper gravestone with an etching of the Cream of Wheat box on it.

My point being, if the goddamned face of Cream of Wheat can fade off into obscurity, even when it’s right there on the shelf next to the Farina kid’s face (whose name, by the way, no one knows – maybe it’s just a warm breakfast cereal curse?) then what’s the point of blogging? I like to aim all my actions at being remembered after I die, because let’s face it I’m into the “big picture” stuff. So if I have limited resources with which to entertain and an open-ended timeline for failure, why do I keep on trying?

Because if there's anything I know about the high price of fame, it's that I do not want to be chased by a band of paparazzi, only to jump into a nearby river for cover and hold my breath for 14 minutes as I swim to freedom. Then of course, once I get to shore, there is another group of nasty photographers waiting for me who shout "There he is! Get him!" I don't need to be caught on tape right now, even if I have just lost 5lbs from being sick.

Merry Christmas Everyone!