My Style: The Story of Chris's Wristwear

There was a time when I was extremely shy, never talked to anyone, found it extremely making friends, or even meeting people randomly. There are still traces of these traits that remain with me, and I suspect they will for the rest of my life. So when I was in high school I noticed that whenever I met people, I noticed small things about them. The color of their belt, any cool-looking shoelaces, a pattern on someone's tie, a girl's earrings, etc. This got me thinking, what could I do to make myself stand out?

My quest for the answer took years...

For some reason I've always like wearing rubber bands, like my once-favorite NBA player, Mario Elie, used to do. I started wearing them literally because he did, so when people asked me why I wore them, thats the story I told them. Every once in a while I would vary the colors so there'd be some variety, but that was about it. On my right hand (I'm left-handed) I normally wore a watch, but, after reading Dennis Rodman's "Bad as I Wanna Be," and learning that he never wore one, I also stopped. Don't ask why I thought Dennis Rodman was the man. Look, I was young and impressionable...

...anyway, just about all of you are well aware that I wear wristbands. So here's why...

In the fall of 2002, during my senior year at Texas, I played in a video game tournament one Friday afternoon after class. The tournament was sponsored by EA Sports, who, as you might imagine, showed up with a shitload of giveaways, some of which were wristbands. I picked up a ton of different gifts. On my way home that afternoon I tripped on one of the disgusting West Campus sidewalks and landed awkwardly on my wrist. It hurt - bad. But it was just a sprain, not a fracture...

...that night, as I got ready to go to my friend P's party, my wrist was killing me. So I popped a couple pills and put the wristband on to help stabilize it. The effect was better than I ever imagined...

..as I mentioned earlier, I've always been kinda shy, so it wasn't like I was agressively hitting on girls at this party. But, similar to my thoughts in high school, the wristband gave people an icebreaker for me. The effect was incredible. I'd had some good nights in college, but mostly due to my own work. Never had I had so many chicks (hot ones, too) come up to me to start conversations. I was floored. The wristband broke the ice and then Chris ran the table. That night was one of the best in my college days, and in no small part was it because of that wristband. Remember, I'm kinda feeling like shit - my wrist is badly sprained and I'm not in the greatest of moods, but trusty wristbands saved the day (well, night)....

...so that's why I wear it: to give people something to hang on to, to start conversations. At this point I've started coming up with ridiculous replies to the question, "Why are you wearing a wristband" because it's fun. Of course, sometimes I actually need a wristband when I start sweating at a dance club (see: Spill last night), but mostly its just so chicks notice and approach me instead of the other way around. I'll admit, I have a small ego and don't like rejection, so I don't approach every chick I want to...

...in case you were wondering, I got crushed on my advanced corporate finance test last night (I don't even wanna see the grade), but I'm finished with school. The first year is too fast...

...on the other hand, I am completely free for the next 3 weeks before I move to Kansas City, so if you want to do something, my schedule is mostly clear. I'll be studying for my CFA exam, but can make time for y'all...

Sexy Killer

As I sit here watching the Warriors get their ass beat by the Mavs and sipping on the nastiest white wine I've ever had (do not EVER buy Yellow Tail Chardonnay 2005 vintage - it's fucking awful), I reflect on a rather strange day. Pretty much all day I doubted the whole "April showers bring May flowers" principle I learned as a kid because the weather was so bad (what is it with this horrible weather we're having? This is a serious buzzkill.). I mean, it's the first of May and it looks like NYC outside - gray skies with a nagging drizzle.

Anyway, after the typical boring ACF class, I did some reading and rolled into my weightlifting class. This is the last week of school and there's exactly one hot chick in there and, yep you guessed it, I waited until today to finally talk to her. But that's neither here nor there. So I roll out of class a little early to get my much anticipated fitness test. What I am about to tell you may shock you, but it looks like my efforts these past few months have paid off..

people, I am 7.88% body fat.

That's right, I am once again a prime physical specimen. No you can't touch me tomorrow when you see all 144lbs of my lean, mean, sexy ass rolling around campus. Except if you're hot.

I'll admit I was a little surprised. I knew I was losing fat and gaining muscle mass, but I figured I would be around 9% or 10%. This is great news. My fast food hiatus combined with fierce determination to get back in shape and the assumption of a healthy diet are paying dividends. Now I just wish I were 6 inches taller so I could play football (as a safety or other DB, wiseass).

So that was the good news of the day. Now for the better news (save the comments, I already know I am going to hell for this one)...

...many of you know how much I hate housecats (I like tigers, ocelots, jaguars, lions). As it was, I was driving home from school when this stupid-ass feline decided to park itself in the middle of the road I was barreling down. The two cars ahead of me gently swerved to avoid hitting it. I thought the bastard would get the hint and get out of the way. Unfortunately, rationality was not with this idiot. As I approached him from 50 feet away I had serveral brief flashbacks of my roadkill history. I remembered March 2000 driving back from the Salt Lick when my friend P took out a cat sprinting across the road, I remembered May 2005 driving to Kansas when this dumb-ass coyote decided he was up for the challenge. Bits of his spine are still in my car grill...

...I returned to reality just in time to hear cat bones crunching under my right front tire. It felt like a little speed bump. My right back tire, probably a bit jealous, managed to get a piece of the action. Let's call it the cleanup hitter...

I drove a little faster than normal the rest of the way. For one, I don't know if anyone saw me. This cat died a quick, painless (well, probably not painless) death. And, since it refused to move out of the way for the two cars ahead of me, it was probably retarded. So in that sense, I put a retarded housecat out of its misery and did my part to help control the pet population (shouts out to Bob Barker). See, I'm a good samaritan.

The rest of Tuesday was normal. I have a shitload of work to get done for finals. I can't believe I'm just about done with my first year (I'm drafting a blog about this and will publish soon).

Stay up y'all.

Lyrics I am feeling at the moment:

Everytime your name was brought up
I would act all nonchalant infront of an audience
Like if you was just another shorty I put the naughty on
But uh, truth be told you do me for a loop, this Hov
I'm too old to be frontin when I'm feeling Denzel
And you acting like you ain't appealing but you are
Stuting like you ain't my only girl but you are (I was just frontin)
I'm ready to stop when you are
--from "Frontin'" by Pharrell featuring Jay-Z