“Your name doesn’t translate,” she said.
I knew it didn’t. I had asked Spanish-speaking friends about it back before I lived in South Texas.
Mark is Marcos. Paul is Pablo. Ty … Ty becomes just a variation of the pronunciation.
Either a long or short e sound takes the y’s place, leading to a “Tee” or a “Teh.” Hardly anything exciting.
But it wasn’t long before I realized that there are many ways that Ty doesn’t translate into Spanish. Continue reading
I don’t know about you guys, but I feel like I spend a lot of my time looking forward to times of the year that are never the ones that I’m in at the moment. Continue reading
Disclaimer: I don’t usually write about such nonsense here, but I can’t find the hockey game on TV and, ya know what, this is my fking blog and I can write whatever the fk I want on it.
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When I first watched The Office my sophomore year, I was surrounded by my best friends before they even became my best friends.
It was because of some combination of Sara or Conrad or Tim having the DVDs of seasons one and two and the mounting pressure from this thing called Facebook that I even first watched an episode, but it quickly became a marathon session of episode viewing among my friends and I, all gathered in a dark dorm room that was specially arranged to handle a crowd (one of my strengths in college was the ability to manipulate dorm rooms in such a way that allowed for maximum occupancy) and clapping along with the inane theme song.
OK, fine. I’m the one that started the clapping along to the theme song, but still, it was fun and if you try it once you’ll be hooked for life. Continue reading
It was the first of many instances where I realized that after living in a state where I looked like everyone else, I now lived in a place where I stood out.
I am the exotic one here.
The cashier at the grocery store asked for my number.
Women passing me on the beach complimented my “highlights.’
I get looks in every bar or club I enter because besides being a head taller than most everyone else there, that aforementioned head is one covered in long blonde hair.
I opened a checking account and, by the end of the process, the financial consultant told me to let him know if I wanted to hang out.
A self-described attention whore, of course I am eating the attention up, but I cannot help but wonder if it could possibly have an affect on my ability to do my job.
In government reporting, we observe and report.
I typically sit in the corners of meeting rooms — wherever I can hear the most and get noticed the least…How do I blend in and do my job when everyone is painfully aware that this monolingual guero is there?
I guess I will just have to be better.
So the recent Anonymous-led Internet blackout of websites on April 22 was a mixed bag.
Not as many websites joined the movement as last year’s resistance to PIPPA/CISPA, but, at the same time, the Legislation did get knocked back a bit, so it could be considered a pseudo-success.
I took my website offline for 24 hours in support of the blackout by setting all of my posts to “Private” for the entirety of the day. When the day was over, I switched them all back to public, leading a few posts that were assignments from the class that originally inspired this blog to be published as public, as well.
I was contacted by a few of my more loyal followers (those of you subscribed on the email list) that the posts popped up as new posts. For this, I apologize.
Next time I take my site offline, I’ll find a better way and make sure to not inconvenience my subscribers (I love you all!)
For more on CISPA, and why I felt it warranted my attention, see below, but to make up for the errant emails (someone said they received eight overnight only to find no new posts) I have made public some posts that were originally password protected.
Please accept this as my apology, and thanks for continuing to follow Me, Myself and Ty!
The newly public posts are:
Braves New World
Fear and Loathing at the Daffodil Festival
Crime and Punishment Part I
Crime and Punishment Part II
Crime and Punishment Part III
Love,
Me, Myself and Ty Continue reading
I had plans to meet a candidate for Brownsville’s City Commission today following a meeting he was having at the zoo.
It’s an American Kestrel named Kelsey!
It’s within walking distance of the office, so I had no qualms about making it a little easier on his schedule, but moreso I was hoping I could see some animals while I was there.
When I called to make sure we were still on, he said the meeting room he assumed we could discuss his campaign in was full of squawking birds and asked if I wanted to meet somewhere else where it would be a little quieter.
Yeah right.
I convinced him it was fine, stressing that I wanted to make things easier on him.
While he was finishing up the meeting I met the little guy pictured to the right, plus a handful of snakes thicker than my arm, a cockatiel, a little owl that had his head cocked to the side like he was trying to sleep and DID NOT appreciate all of the noise and some insects that I somehow doubt realized they weren’t on display, but on the menu.
Oh no big deal. Just picking up a media packet from this awesome courthouse which was erected in 1912.
Check out the marble stairs and walls. It’s like it was made for me. And, yes, I drag the back of my wrists against the cool, smooth stone on my way up and down.
“it’s so exciting to know a real live journalist,” read the message.
Truthfully, I didn’t know how to respond.
Yes, I had felt like a real journalist at times throughout the past six years, but I realized that I had never before felt like a real, live journalist.
Silly rhetoric on her part, probably, but it got to the heart of the matter: I finally feel alive in this profession.
I could see myself becoming a smoker simply because the most interesting women I’ve kissed have all tasted like tobacco.
March 12 I will celebrate what could be considered my greatest accomplishment, one that was more than two years in the making: My enshrinement into the UFO Ring of Honor at the Flying Saucer.
For those who are strangers to the Saucer (or Taco Mac, which has a similar program), members of the UFO Club (Get a T-shirt and a card, woo hoo!) who have tasted 200 different beers at the Saucer have a plate (saucer?) dedicated in their honor added to the walls and ceiling of their home Saucer.
But my journey to the ceiling wasn’t one I traveled alone. The Saucer became my favorite bar in Raleigh, where the wait staff and managers all knew my name and my palate. More than once I was brought a beer as soon as I sat down because my favorite Beer Goddess knew I would love it (and that I hadn’t tried it yet).
So allow me to highlight a few of my favorite Saucer beers and memories …
Ty W. Johnson 