MattOnFire

I’ve been a blogger since before blogging was cool. Then I was a blogger when it was cool. Then I was a blogger when it wasn’t cool again. I’m a MeBlogger. I write about me. My life. My pets. My employment. My illnesses. My likes. My dislikes. My Wife. My affinity for really good sandwiches.

Over the years, there have been many versions of my blog. I started out posting inappropriate pictures of me and my friends. From there, I began writing little descriptions of the pictures. Then I morphed into recounting silly experiences about going to the mall or how I got a really bad sunburn. Each version of the blog would eventually die because I got bored or just didn’t have the time nor the inclination to update. I would forget. Things weren’t that exciting. My ADD kicks into overdrive once every 6-8 months.

One year ago, about this time, I felt the urge to get back on the blogwagon. I started a tumblr page to coincide with my new-ish twitter account. I found some funny people to follow from all over the country – not just in Richmond – and reading their posts and admiring their photos allowed me to explore my slightly-creative online persona.

Then we all know what happened. I lost my job. Yes, it was the very job that stifled me so much that I felt the need to reach out, creatively, online. But it was gone and so was the paycheck. The adrenaline of telling my boss to shove it was quickly replaced by weeks – WEEKS – of mental anguish and frustration. (Honestly, I still have nightmares about the whole thing. No joke.) On the first day of my unemployment, April 16th, 2009, I wrote a blog entry about beginning my search for a new job:

Hmmm… doesn’t seem to be much out there.  Is the economy in a recession?  When did that happen?

The blog now had a topic – unemployment and my search for a job. As the entries flowed from my fingertips at an almost-daily pace, I realized that tumblr wasn’t the proper forum for such a depressing topic. I moved the written part of my blog over to WordPress. It make me feel a little more legit. I bit the bullet last fall when I slapped down the credit card and bought the domain and the hosting. Now I’m a big boy with a real blog that actually costs money to run.

I’ve stuck with it for a year, which is pretty good for someone like me, a guy who goes through hobbies like Kirstie Alley goes through diets. Remember my bass guitar? Yeah, it’s upstairs in its case. Haven’t opened it since we moved. Money well spent.

So happy birthday, MattOnFire blog. Let’s hope you can stick around for another year of pointless rambles that don’t reaOH HEY I THINK I’M GOING TO TAKE UP PAINTING WHERE CAN GET A CANVAS STRETCHED LOOK AT MY WATERCOLORS.

Me: No, Barista. The point of olympic curling is to…

TLW: You gotta sweep really, really fast like this [demonstrates feverish sweeping]

Barista: It sounds kinda dumb.

As we try to explain the complexities of curling to a confused Barista, FELLOW walks over and puts his arms around us. Mind you, we’ve all been drinking.

Fellow: GUYS! It’s like the Richmond blogger elite over here!

Us, collectively: Aww, thanks. No, YOU’RE the blogger elite!

Fellow: But seriously, MattOnFire is the blog of our times!

Me: Aw, go on!

Fellow: Really, I read your blog and I absolutely feel SOOOO happy that I have a job.

TLW: [Spit take]

Barista: [Doubled over, laughing]

Me: Huh?

Fellow: No, seriously. I love it. I mean, you’re blog makes me glad that I’m working and you’re not. Really. It sucks to not have a job and I’m glad I’m not you.

Barista: You’re making it worse!

Me: But I kinda do have a…

Fellow: No, really! It’s really shitty being you. Your blog makes me feel bad for you, but in a way that makes me happy I’m not you.

Me: But I AM sort of working…

TLW: This is too much!

Fellow: No, no. I get it. You do work, but your life is like a box of poop and your blog is the BLOG OF OUR TIMES!

Me: Yeah, but no. I have a pretty good life. I …

Fellow: Yeah, yeah. You bought a house. How is that possible? What an asshole, right? Here’s this unemployed guy who is so frustrated with money and life and the job situation – then he goes out and buys a house! I mean!

Barista: Oh. My.

Fellow: I’m obviously doing something wrong because I have a job and I work really hard. Yet I don’t have a house. You see my point, though? You have THE BLOG OF OUR TIMES because 2009 was a shitty year for the economy and stuff, and here’s your blog about losing your job and all the frustrations that come along with it. The next thing you know, you’re buying a house! And you don’t even have a job!

Me: Well, I do sort of have a job. I write for…

Fellow: Yeah, yeah. I know.

Me: It’s not like I stare at the walls all day long and…

Fellow: OF OUR TIMES. THE BLOG.

TLW: Are you trying to pay him a compliment?

Fellow: Yes! Of course! I love MattOnFire! He makes me feel shitty, and that’s what good writing should do. It’s like, “Congrats on the house… asshole.” You’re happy for him, but you’re glad you’re not him. See?

Me: …Thanks?

Fellow: Seriously. I love the blog. Glad I’m not you.

FELLOW saunters off to the bar for his next Bud Light. I overhear him tell the bartender that he’s really glad that bartenders serve drinks because he is thirsty, but he’s happy he’s not a bartender because it must suck serving alcohol to people.

Barista: Really, though. Congrats on the house, jerk.

TLW: Yeah. I’m really happy for you. I don’t have a house, but I’m glad you do. Must suck being “unemployed”, huh?

Me: Anyway, the rocks are made of granite and the sweeping causes friction on the ice…

Editor’s note: FELLOW is a respected Richmond blogger and friend, who was truly trying to pay me a compliment… just in a drunkenly awkward way.

Me: I think I’d like a sandwich. 
Dog: Can I have one, too? 
Me: No. You have dog food. Why don’t you eat that like a normal dog. 
Cat: Yo, what up, beotches? Can a kitteh get some vittles up in here? 
Me: Dammit, I just fed you an hour ago. 
Cat: Yo, calm down, whiteboy. I just want a slice of that turkey. Is that turkey? That’s turkey, right? Can I get a slice? 
Me: Get off the counter! 
Dog: Hey, cat! Grab me a slice of that turkey! 
Me: Dammit! Get out of here, both of you! 
Cat: Oh, snap! That shit ain’t turkey! Homeboy got some thinly sliced chicken breast up in here! Holla! 
Dog: This is soooo not fair. I have to eat processed chunks of cornmeal and beef-flavored horse meat. I demand a decent meal – or at least a snack – every once in a while. You know how I like chicken, too. This is preposterous. 
Cat: So… I’m just gonna take this here piece of chicken and… 
Me: NO! GET DOWN! [picks up cat and throws him in the other room]. 
Cat: DAAAAMMMMMNNNNNN! 
Dog: You’re a real asshole, you know that? 
Me: This is MY food. I paid for it. With MY money. That I made. What the hell have you ever done to earn your keep around here? 
Dog: Oh, I don’t know. How ’bout not let burglars and murderers in the house? Ever think of that? 
Me: … 
Dog: That’s right. Remember that kid selling magazines the other day? Total burglar! I scared him away. 
Me: You just barked a lot because he’s black and you’re a flaming racist. 
Dog: Well… whatever. He might have been a burglar and you weren’t going to buy Golf Fancy Monthly anyway. Just give me some frickin’ turkey! 
Me: It’s chicken. 
Dog: WhatEVERRR. Damn. You’re a dick. 
Me: [Goes to the fridge to get the mayonnaise. Yes, I eat mayo.] EAT YOUR OWN DAMN FOOD. 
Cat: [secretly climbs his way back onto the counter and starts licking the chicken breast] Guess who’s back up in this mofo! Dayuummmm! This is some good-ass chicken! What is this, Boar’s Head? What, What! Hey, Dog, catch! [nudges a side of the sandwich into the gaping mouth of Dog.] 
Me: SONOFABITCH! Get out. NOW! [opens the back door. Cat & Dog laughing hysterically race outside. Dog is doing the moonwalk and the cat is thrusting his pelvis like he's violently humping the air.] 
Cat: Yeah, booooyyyyyy! [singing] We gots the chicken. It be nice and tasty. I ate that chicken. Whiteboy be crazy. 
Dog: I’m gonna go pee on the lawn mower.

A quick check of my dashboard weather app shows the current temperature at 98º, with a high expected of 103º sometime within the next couple of hours. While a few 100º days are to be expected in a typical Richmond summer, they are still too much for this native Buffalonian to handle without an frosty beverage and a portable kiddie pool filled with ice water.

The humidity can bite me. There. I said it. Bite me, humidity. I like to swim, but I don’t like to have the sensation of just exiting a lukewarm pool without ever having entered one. I can’t even get the mail without feeling like the angels are drooling on me with their hot and sticky saliva. I feel like I’m in an invisible giant’s crock pot, slow roastin’ and marinating like some sort of human meat stew. Mmmm. Smells like dinner, Ma!

It’s days like these when I really thank the Gods of Modern Technology for blessing us with sweet, sweet air conditioning. I have so much respect for those of you who have outdoor jobs. I don’t know how you do it, even with the promise of a paycheck. Heck, I’m unemployed right now and if someone offered me an honest day’s pay to nail some shingles to a roof, I’d think twice. If you’re a roofer or a road construction person or one of those sign-twirlers outside the Little Caesars advertising a $5.55 pizza, I salute you. I salute you with a tip of my hat and a raise of this ice-cold Tropical Smoothie.

DISCLAIMER: That being said, I WOULD take an outdoor job, even in this heat. Hey, I need the money and am willing to work hard for it. But I would totally not be happy about it. I might even cry a little bit. Hey – I know the value of hard work. I’m just trying to make the point that it’s frickin’ hot out there with a little bit of humor. So calm down all you people who are about to comment and say that I’m lazy. Because I would dig a ditch or twirl a sign if it meant putting a roast in the crock pot.

So anyway – a little bit of news from the freelance front: I am now a legitimate blogger, as evidenced by my posts on RichmondInsideOut. Click on ‘Blog’ and read about my adventures as I tour Richmond and promote the region’s historic awesomeness. If you’re around on August 27th, I personally invite you to come on out to the RIO party from 5-7pm at Easy Street. The first 100 registrants get a couple of free drinks and are allowed to shake my hand. But you’re not allowed to look me in the eye. Ever. Oh, just kidding. You can look all you want. You can register here.

DISCLAIMER #2 – I spelled ‘cemetery’ wrong in the Segway post. As much as I don’t want to call attention to it, I feel like I need to inform you that I’m normally a pretty good speller. So don’t hold a little misspelling against me. I probably have more spelling and grammatical errors that I’m unaware of, but don’t tell me about them because I’ll get really down on myself and finish a whole gallon of mint-chocolate chip ice cream. So please be aware that I KNOW I spelled it wrong and feel bad about it. Thank you and good day.

Gearing up for an interview on Wednesday afternoon. This one kind of took me by surprise, since I don’t remember applying to this company. And I really don’t have any clue on what position this company is looking to fill. Guess I’ll have to be prepared to talk about my writing or my design or my TV production skills and bring examples of each. Sound a little sketchy? Maybe. But I won’t know until go find out. Couldn’t hurt, right?

As for the Charlotte job, I’m still waiting to hear something. I can’t even begin to tell you how I’ve permanently disfigured my fingers by crossing them. And it’s hotter in Richmond today than it is in Charlotte. So Charlotte is winning the battle of places that I should live because I don’t want to die a slow-cooked death. I mean, really – the neighborhood pool smells like a delicious ham stew.

This is Day 117, folks. Hottest day of the year. Check out the RIO blog. Don’t hold spelling errors against me. Mystery interview coming up. Charlotte on my mind.