Sensational Pudding

Raphael's Beauty

2012-01-30T18:55:00.001-08:00

There was a study done recently by the Washington Post. A very talented violinist who gets $110 a ticket for his performances, played in a New York City subway. The violinist proceeded to play the songs he was going to play later that night at a concert. The songs are supposedly some of the greatest and most challenging violin songs known and the violin he was playing with is worth over 3 million dollars. The study was to see if anyone would stop and listen.

After he finished playing it turns out that no one stopped for more than about half a minute. And the only ones who really appeared intrigued were the children who were dragged away by their parents. He made about $30 from people dropping money to him.

The study supposedly gives us insight into how people perceive beauty. No one seemed to realize the fact that one of the world's greatest violin players, with one of the most beautiful violins in the world, was playing the most beautiful violin songs right in front of them. I suppose a lot of conclusions could be drawn here. But I think too much is being read into this study. First off beauty is really hard to objectively define. It is extremely subjective. However, there do seem to be some universally accepted themes of beauty. Such as a beautiful sunny day with green grass. I doubt many if any people are going to argue that they tend to prefer overcast days with brown grass.

In the case of the violinist I think part of the problem is that more likely than not, most of the passerbys in the subway had no way of appreciating the music. Everyone can appreciate a sunny day. But not everyone is going to appreciate what to them is a random violin song. Instead, maybe only someone who has an ear can see the beauty in the violin music. I myself probably would have been one of those people who just walked on by. Although, I have always loved watching performing musicians on the street so I just might have lingered for a bit.

Anyway, so my point is that unless we've been trained or have experience with the subject, we may not be able to appreciate the greatest beauties the subject can offer. Another example is art. I love art and going to museums. And I think most people can appreciate it to some degree because we've all drawn on paper before. In fact I don't know a child who doesn't love to draw. They want to pick up a crayon or a stick and just go at that paper or mud. They are so eager to create. And when we find ourselves in a boring lecture, we may find ourselves continuing to doodle at a rather advanced age.

Recently I finished a drawing, and I like it and want to share it. Now in order to not sound like a braggart I am also including a picture of the original that I tried to recreate. And it gets back to my original point. Many people may look at the original and say that's amazing. Because like I said, all of us have taken pencil to paper, and we can appreciate the masters. But after trying to actually recreate this drawing, all I can say is that Raphael's practice sketch is my best. You can click on them to make them bigger.

I've hung this up next to the entrance door of my apartment. I tried to make the two look a little happier because it's my way of making my guests feel welcome. Both the young and old are excited they are here.

Here's mine:

And here's Raphael's:

Finally here is Raphael's painting. See if you can find the two. They don't appear quite so welcoming.

Making Snowflakes

2011-12-19T06:20:00.001-08:00

It has certainly be awhile since we've met. Nearly a month. So you might be thinking that I have many marvelous stories to share with you. No. I had hoped to have all sorts of good things to share, but now I think I'm going to call this year the year of stand ups. There are two ways I define being stood up. The first is when someone extends an invitation to another and that other person acknowledges the invitation and does not say no but then offers no further response. So if the invited person says yes and both neither shows up nor calls to cancel that is being stood up. If that person says I'd like to but I'll have to see, and does not call with a final confirmation one way or the other, that in my book is being stood up. If the person just gives a non-commital response then I don't consider it being stood up if that person doesn't call with a final confirmation, but I do think it's rude.

The second way to stand up someone is by offering an invitation and not following through. So if someone invites another to partake in an activity, but then does not show up to that activity and also do not call to say it is canceled, that is standing up the invited person.

So going by those two definitions, in just the past four days I was stood up 6 times. Twice Sunday, once Saturday, once Friday, and twice Thursday. 6 times I had plans with people who agreed to partake in an activity with me, either by my invitation or their own, and then both did not show up at the planned time and did not call saying not to expect them. In fact not only did they not call, but in all cases I never even got a call after the fact. I know these things shouldn't be taken personally, because far more important things do come up that can distract our attention. Still this was all in just the past four days, and it's no fun being completely forgetable. But yesterday, Sunday, while I was trying to come up with new plans when it became apparanet that my two activities were canceled I had a laugh. Here I was upset about being bailed by a couple people when probably earlier that day Jesus had millions of people not say "Hi". So I guess I have nothing to complain about.

Nevertheless I do have one story to share. After watching a little bit of "Elf" and seeing that scene where he decorates the store overnight, I wanted to revisit the craft of making paper snowflakes. It had been years since I had made a paper snowflake, particularly because I was never any good at it, and I wanted to add some Christmas-time decorations to my apartment. So about two Saturdays ago, I spent a few hours figuring out how to properly fold the paper and create a snowflake. I'm still not any good at creating something geometrically pleasing but I can create scenes, like of snowmen. Eventually I came up with a design that I snapped a photo of on my phone and sent home. Dad said it was the most impressive thing I've done all year and Mom said it was so beautiful I should sign it and frame it. Well I don't know about all of that, but I was impressed about how nice it came out. It's one of those things, where minimal effort can create something that looks amazing. I would attach a picture but I don't have a camera at the moment. But yes, paper snowflakes do look impressive and they aren't too hard to make.

Now that Saturday evening I had a date. Yes, I had a date. I had been talking with a girl on one of these dating websites. She is Catholic, in medical school, lives in town, and, as I soon discovered on the date, is quite attractive. But the date itself wasn't too great. It just never felt at any point in time that we clicked. Things felt almost a little tense. So after the date, I told her that I would like to hear from her again, but she never got back in touch. I thought about calling her again but decided against it. It turns out that she is only in town until June, then she is going to Ohio for the last two years of medical school and she wants to permanently live there. Also she works until 9 PM Monday through Friday. So I didn't see a relationship coming out of this and decided not to pursue the matter any more. But it's not like she called me back either. For my part, I tried to be charming and pleasant on the date. But maybe she didn't like my responses to some of the questions she asked me. For example, this is how one of the questions went. Her: "So what did you do today?" Me: "This afternoon I spent a few hours making paper snowflakes."

Another Outing Amongst Friends

2011-11-16T17:19:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I got to visit WAM. Like last time the ride was amazing. It just goes by so fast once you get into the hills. And once I got there it was nice to find that WAM is still very good at making people feel welcome.

I think we may have done even more during this trip than the last time I was there. We hiked up a mountain, went to an apple orchard, shopped the campus town, went book hunting at the library, saw an OWS encampment, had a taco and sausage breakfast from the local farmers, and saw a Basset Hound calendar.

Being a very giving person, WAM offered a generous portion of advice on everything I need to do to acquire a girlfriend. Unfortunately I forgot to bring a notebook.

As before the food was amazing. This time I had probably the best meatloaf I've ever had. This trip WAM was eager to have me try several of her favorite foods. She even made me breakfast, which further confirmed to me how lucky her future husband and children will be.

But despite having written several Tasteful Thursday articles since the last trip, her taste in movies is still quite horrible. Just awful. She should feel shame. Unfortunately I could really do no better since everything I wanted to watch was unavailable. Apparently WAM's poor taste in movies extends to the entire citizenry of Charlottesville.

Nevertheless, an awful cinematic experience couldn't stop the smiles, and we tried our best to capture these happy moments on film.

Celebrating All Those Who Have Their Halos

2011-11-01T11:31:00.001-07:00

Proper children do not have to be told to go outside. No matter what the season or weather, children love to play outside. Or they should. Sometimes they do not want to go outside no matter how beautiful the day. During the most exceptionally nice days, if the child does not want to go outside, sometimes the parents get involved and say something like, "get outside and go have fun". They understand that on days that marvelous it is not time to be inside watching tv or doing whatever. On those days it's time to be outside and enjoying it.

Today is All Saint's Day and it is a Holy Day of Obligation. Today is when we celebrate all those who have gone on to Heaven before us, and also ask them for their prayers of support. Now some people may not like being obliged to go to Church. However, in reality these are like the improperly ordered children who would rather be inside on a beautiful day. This day is so wonderful that we are obliged to celebrate. The Church has said you need to go have a good time.

I like that. Again, the Church tends to get serious about having a good time, and today is one of those days. So have an extra scoop of ice-cream tonight, and be sure to send up some prayers to your favorite saints. And with today being All Saints Day and tomorrow being All Souls Day, here is a song that I think helps us remind us that today and tomorrow are supposed to be celebrations rather than sorrowful memorials.

Up For Sale

2011-10-31T05:26:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I decided to put up my Jaguar for sale. After having it for about two and a half years I couldn't keep up with the repairs. They were just too expensive and there were far too many of them that were needed. Which is unfortunate because fundamentally the car is still tip top, it just has a bunch of aesthetic problems.

The poor thing has so many problems I don't want to list them all, but I'm going to try anyway. The cup holder is broken, apparently that's a problem on all jaguars of my era. The apolstry up top is coming down. The radio antenna no longer goes up and down, it is stuck in up but at least the radio still works. The chrome finish on the hub caps is peeling due to corrosion from driving it in the winter on salty streets. The back bumper is all scratched up and was likely in an accident before I got it. The left back brake light has a crack in the glass. The trunk has a most unfortunate dent in it. By the gas tank there is an odd coloration on the paint as though a chemical was spilled there, possibly gas I suppose. In the tank itself there is a good deal of rust, although the rust itself is not on the structure of the car. The front grill is a little loose. The inside dash is a little loose. The front right leather seat is cracking. The front right leather seat has a hole. The electrical wiring has gone bad and now the car always thinks the coolant is low and that ABS and traction control are off. The sun roof is broken because you are not supposed to try using the sun roof when it is covered in ice. There is a large stain on the back left carpet. The brake light in the back window has come off the back window and is now sitting on the dash. There are two small scratches to the back left window's tint. There is a small dent in the back right door. After driving for about 15 minutes, the oil pressure starts to sink and you will be warned about low pressure while sitting in idle.

But other than that, the car is tip top.

Homemade Masquerade

2011-10-28T13:24:00.000-07:00

The annual costume and chili contest was held today where I work. Last year I went as the Joker and won the costume contest. But by not voting for myself in the chili competition I placed second. Well this year I won the chili competition but I lost the costume competition.

Winning the chili competition was a given because my Mom makes the best everything, and since I used her recipe, and this year executed it correctly, no one had a chance.

Losing the costume contest was a surprise. But that was because I constantly forget just how little taste and appreciation others have for fine arts and anything that requires even a modicum of skill and time. But I'm trying to be a good sport about it all and not have a fit. While I would have upended my chili in a fit of rage over losing the competition, it was completely depleted by my co-workers. I think next year I will make it exceptionally spicy. At any rate, even though I lost, I was very pleased with how my costume turned out and knew I couldn't really have done much better.

Having always like Venetian masks, this year I decided to try and make one. I'm actually not sure why I like them, because that scene in Labyrinth where I first saw them always seemed a little creepy to me as a little kid. But I got some paper mache and paint and went at it. Below are some photos of me in the final product.

Birthday Response

2011-10-23T11:59:00.000-07:00

Having recieved her evening presents, Sarah called me up around 9:30. She wanted to say that she loved them and was really happy to get them. Then we talked for a short while to play a bit of catch up. She said that during the past week or so her life had gotten even busier. She had been thinking things would wind down some, but instead they picked up. And as a result she had little time for anything, and her parents were coming in that weekend too.

I mentioned that I wasn't even in town because I was home celebrating my 10 year high school reunion. That surprised her, because she hadn't realized yet that I hadn't delivered the presents.

Despite being told she was busier than ever, I was still elated. Sarah had both called me up and was really happy about the gifts. We didn't have any official dates planned, but at least I knew I was on solid ground. I would have asked if we could have tried to do another lunch on Tuesday, but I knew that week and this coming week I would be teaching so I wasn't going to bring it up. I had hoped she might, but that didn't happen. Still I have found her to be much more talkative, by text that is, since following her birthday. The only problem is that we have discovered that not only does she not receive all my texts, but I haven't received at least one of hers. I suppose that just means I will be calling her more often. She is busier than ever, but the texts she sends are nice enough to indicate that we do have some chance.

Double Surprise

2011-10-23T11:49:00.000-07:00

What a busy month it has been. Let's just get right to it. A couple weeks ago Sarah had her birthday, which I was unable to be in town for. Nevertheless I was still able to get her some presents.

Prior to her birthday I hadn't heard much from her. Gurney had been right texting her an invitation to something and that would give me an idea on where we stood. But other than that one text message she responded to me with, that had really been it. So her birthday was my chance to shine a bit. And I treated it as a "if this doesn't work nothing will" sort of event. The whole time I was up in the air as to how she'd react. My plan was to leave her a gift bright and early in the morning before she headed out, and another later that night that she'd receive after coming home from her evening class. That night gift I wouldn't be able to deliver. And I wanted to leave them at her door as a surprise rather than give them to her personally. The reason being that it would take away any potential awkwardness.

As the morning wore on and I still hadn't heard from her I was on pins and needles. I was so consumed with wondering how she was going to react, I tried to do things to take my mind off it. Ha ha, I actually did some work for once. Around 10:30 I finally heard from her. She said she loved the gift and even commented on some of the particulars, which to me was great to hear because doing that made her sound genuine. It was a text message but it was still nice to get.

So that night I had my other friend who lives where I do deliver the other gifts, while I headed out of town. Again I was getting worked up on how she'd respond because this time the gifts were a little more involved. They were inexpensive but clearly required a bit of effort to get together. And later that evening she called.

Lunch Thursday Not Tuesday

2011-10-07T17:42:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was particularly tasteful, because I was treated to an afternoon of lunch and relaxation with Gurney. Now while I'd be happy to talk about her and what she's been up to, she has informed me that all she does is skip to whatever I have to say about Sarah. So since her birthday was on Wednesday, I will humor her and give an update.

The past week has had me on pins and needles. If you haven't noticed I've been due for a fiasco for a little while now. After all I believe it had been fully over a week since my last one and that is just much too long, so I knew a good whopper of a horrible situation was just itching to come.

As I mentioned, last week had no major issues. In fact it was quite fantastic because towards the end of it Sarah made plans to join me for lunch this Tuesday past. I got put in her calander and even though she had a meeting at noon, she said she would leave early if she had to. On Sunday, while working out with her, I told her my plans on where we were going to go. And on Monday I found out that she would be unable to go.

Now she is a very busy student, so I wasn't surprised but I was a little bummed out by this. Later that Monday evening I decided that if she couldn't go with me to lunch then I wanted a hug in payment. So I walked over there and knocked on her door. She answered it, but to my surprise her Dad was there. She invited me in to meet him, and I said "hello", and excused myself saying I didn't want to interupt them, but that I did want to speak quickly with Sarah. She came out with me and when I told her I wanted a hug she said no and went back in looking none too happy.

Since then I've been gathering opinions on how to handle the situation. I've had two people say, just let her be and if she wants to talk she'll contact me. Two others said I should call her and ask if she's mad at me, and just get it all out in the open. And Gurney said I should act as though nothing bad happened and invite her to another event.

The first two people had good advice, based on Sarah's past behavior. She is very busy, but when she is free and wants to meet she will call. The next two people took a more proactive approach. This is generally how I behave but I believe it also makes me look overly sensitive and dramatic, that I overthink and worry about every little thing. This is completely true, but I can least attempt to fake that I'm not by not bringing up the subject myself. If she does that's something entirely else. And then there's Gurney's point of view. I think everyone agreed that I hadn't done anything too terribly wrong, at least the way I described it, so she probably wasn't as mad at me as she seemed if at all. So if I didn't act like anything happened, or at least that I hadn't done anything wrong, then if nothing really did happen all would be well. And that's the approach I took. I felt that even if she really was mad I hadn't done anything too terrible and didn't deserve a long silent treament. Note that typically I take her silence as a treatment when in reality she is just busy. I texted her and asked if she'd like to meet Gurney. And she responded with a sorry she can't, which was the happiest outcome I was hoping for. In this case I was just thrilled that she responded.

Today I called her and she picked up, and even though it lasted maybe twenty seconds, I think it went well, she picked up. The quickness of the call was due to her expecting out of town visitors any minute and just didn't want to be on the phone.

All of that sounded rather desperate, or maybe a little pitiful. None of that now. While I would like to hear from her, I am keeping my eyes open. But if there were anything, or I suppose in my case anyone else to mention of I would. And besides, with this beautiful weather we've been having of blue skies and warm days it is difficult to really be all that downcast about anything.

Happy Birthday Gurney.

Pastime of the Past

2011-09-29T13:57:00.000-07:00

Two incidents in only a day has brought me to the conclusion that collecting is either a lost or dying pastime. Which makes this a perfect subject for Tasteful Thursday. I have made good progress on obtaining all the Garbage Pail Kids cards. There is still a long way to go with them but I am happy to say I now have more than half of them. It's tricky. I have been trying to get the sets through online auctions and have found I am not the only one out there trying to get them. But it's been fun trying to find the best deals and it is a joy when they finally come in the mail. I've been putting them into card holders and feeling like a proper dork doing so. But it is fun looking at them and sharing them with others who can appreciate them, which for the most part are only guys who fall between the ages of 26 and 30.

It's this whole business of collecting cards has sparked some interesting reflections on today's youth. When I was purchasing the card holders, the young clerk asked "Do you have baseball cards or something?" "These are for a collection of Garbage Pail Kids." "Is that like a card game?" "No, they are just collectible cards, like baseball cards but fun and enjoyable to look at." "Oh I see, so these are an investment." "No, I don't want to sell them." "Then what do you do with them?" "I enjoy them. They're just something fun to look at and collect. Like a hobby. No games, no money, just something to enjoy and maybe share with a future son or friends." At this point I literally got a stare, so I told him to have a good night and he broke out of the stare and wished me the same and I left.

Then I showed them to Sarah, who likewise was having difficulties. In this case she never experienced collecting. Her older brothers never collected anything. And she never had a doll collection or anything like that. I pointed out that while I also did not have any collections as a child, there were many things I enjoyed and this happened to be one of them. Like I didn't have a comic book collection but I enjoyed reading them. But collecting can be enjoyable and relaxing. And I think that's lost on many people nowadays. With everything going electronic, it's hard to find many physical objects that people would think of collecting. People don't need to collect the albums of their favorite singer when they can just purchase everything in a digital format. And some people will say that's great, because it saves space, and most of those collections just collect dust. Well that's true, but in moderation having a few special items to share with others is nice. No one wants to go to a home where there is nothing of interest to be seen. So I have my cards. Put them on a coffee table and you've got a great accenting piece.

Now this is Tasteful Thursday, not Terribly Cluttered Thursday. There is a good taste limit to how large a collection can be. In my opinion I think that limit is when you can no longer appreciate the individual aspects of the collection. For example, take a comic book series. If you have 1,000 issues in that series, it would be very difficult to enjoy them as individuals. It has likely gotten to the point where you are collecting the comics for the sake of collecting the comics. The enjoyment of them as individuals is gone, because there are too many to enjoy. It's the point where to basically everyone else the collection has become too big but the collector can't come to realize this. My cards are going to fit into one manageable binder. They aren't going to fill 100 of them.

If you noticed I mentioned Sarah saw the cards. Yep, we are still hanging out. In fact we even hung out a few times since she saw them, so they didn't chase her away! And I happily think she liked looking at the cards I had to show. The idea of collecting was foreign to her, but I think she was able to come to an appreciation of the enjoyable nature of it.

Cuddly Canines and Ferocious Felines

2011-09-27T18:02:00.000-07:00

Recently I have been learning how not to talk to girls. Sarah has been my primary tutor in this very difficult subject area. A little research for this post, has taught me she prefers to use operant conditioning. Respondant conditioning is used to modify a reflexive behavior. Whereas operant conditioning is when the stimulus is applied to modify a voluntary behavior.

There's an important difference between voluntary and involuntary behavior. Both for the person exhibiting the behavior and the person observing the behavior. For the person exhibiting the behavior he could be easily mis-diagnosed if the person observing the behavior is not professionally trained. And it is entirely possible the observer may be the exhibitor. Like a person who scratches a mosquito bite so much that it breaks open. That may be an involuntary or a voluntary behavior depending on the situation. And so a mis-diagnosis could lead to greater frustration if little progress is made at modifying the behavior.

And then for the observer the two types of behavior can lead to different emotions. For example, it is easy to have patience with someone who involuntarily has difficulties with a behavior. Like no decent person is going to scream at someone with someone who has tourettes and has trouble finding the will to keep fighting it (if that is even an acceptable treatment which it probably isn't). But it is easy to get frustrated with someone who voluntarily behaves a certain way and decides to stop trying to change.

Finally all of this can be terribly frustrating for the person who is mis-diagnosed and doesn't know it. For example, pretend a person with an involuntary behavior is said to voluntarily exhibit that behavior. And then the exhibitor gets weary of trying to change that behavior. The observer will likely get frustrated, and the exhibitor may be reduced to shame, when in actuality the exhibitor has nothing to be ashamed of and the observer may have nearly infinite patience if it was known the exhibitor was only involuntarily acting.

So when Sarah tries to help my speech towards ladies we first must determine if my behavior is voluntary or involuntary. What I'm doing here is trying to turn this around. And for some reason I do not think I'm winning this argument. And I admit I have learned some lessons. In particular, I have learned you must not poke fun at girls. Not directly or indirectly. Now they will say that this is nonsense. You just have to not tease them in an offensive manner or about a sensitive subject. However, I have found girls to find all things sensitive and touchy. So it is best to just not tease them in any manner whatsoever. You would fare better teasing a pit bull with a steak.

As for Sarah, she is using operant conditioning, and so far she has continued to stick with me. Now a rule of the universe seems to be that a man will find no end to the ways in which he can test a woman's patience. And so far Sarah's has held out. Let us pray it continues to stay strong.

Card Collecting

2011-09-19T06:20:00.000-07:00

After getting that marvelous book, I've been thinking about what things I consider treasures. These don't have to be monetarily worth much. Instead I'm basing my decision on things that don't get old. And I am purposely leaving living things and food out of this.

So far my list is rather small. But in some ways I think that may be a good thing. If I took great joy from a ton of objects it could mean several things. First off, it could mean I'm overly sensitive. I would rather not shed tears of joy everytime I see something I like. We can call this the double rainbow mentality.

Second it could mean I'm just way to attached to material objects. If I everything I have would be lost in a fire, hopefully the only things I would be upset about losing are things that relate to my family or friends like photos or letters. Now I actually fall into this second category a bit. Because I would be upset at losing my book, and the other few treasures I have. But I think so long as I don't mind losing something like my TV (although I do sort of consider that a treasure due to it's rarity), that is pretty good.

Third it could mean I don't have enough friends. I once went to a house that held a number of college students. One of them lived in the basement of the house. I never met him but for some reason I had to go in the basement, and I saw many of his belongings. It was a little boy's dream come true. I about fainted. It was full of all my favorite video games, and legos. I remember actually gaping in awe at the site. Then I got sad, and I told my friend, whoever this person is, he doesn't get out much does he. And my friend said yes. The owner of all those amazing things had very few friends.

But I'm sensational and those three categories don't apply to me. So let's get to the fun stuff, at least for me. I thought about listing all the things I have that I consider to be treasures, but thought that might bore you. Then I thought about making it general in scope, like what I consider to be the things that others should treasure. But that seemed like it would take to long and this also isn't Tasteful Thursday. And then I came to my decision. Since I've already talked about the book, I decided to share one more new treasure that I'm currently working on obtaining.

As a small child my Aunt introduced me to my older cousin's card collection. And I thought it was about the most wonderful thing I ever saw at that young point in my life. And since then I've always thought it would be wonderful to make a complete collection of that particular type of collectible cards. The art design is top notch, with creatively short clever titles. For example here is a picture of the card entitled 'Babbling Brooke'.

I think there is no disagreeing how incredible those cards are. Unfortunately there were 15 original sets, with about 88 cards each, and getting all of them will be challenging. But I'm trying.

Swans Are Hard To Name

2011-09-12T13:10:00.000-07:00

Growing up, my friends and I had a favorite book.

I think we enjoyed it so much because we really didn't want to read much and this book has fantastic illustrations that contain clues to a mystery. The puzzles are straight forward to solve, but require a good bit of time to both figure them out and even find them since they are hidden on the pages. When we were in the fourth grade, and discovered this book for the first time, it was really fun for us all. There are other books that use the same formula. But the puzzles are meant for adults and are much harder. So hard the fun aspect is sort of removed due to the sheer difficulty.

Despite liking it so much, I never owned a copy. Well the other day I was in a book store and I noticed my childhood page turner on display and was curious to see why this book out of all the others in the store was on a special display. I noticed right away it looked like an old copy, and when I flipped to the beginning I saw that it had been signed. It was a first edition signed copy! For me this was like finding a treasure.

Later I found out that maybe it's not very rare. But nevertheless I am still really happy to have it.

A Whale of a Story

2011-09-09T05:45:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I purchased a bottle opener. I've never had one before and had a hard time finding one in the stores that I was pleased with. But eventually I found the one I know have. It's a whale whose mouth and tail can be used to open bottles. After purchasing it I discovered this whale was more about form than function, but it can be used, with a little effort, to open my pop bottles so I guess I'm okay with it. Part of the reason I got it was because I think it's really cool looking. Like if you were to just put it on a table you might not know right away that it is supposed to be used to open bottles.

I brought it home and hung it on my wall by putting two nails in the wall that the whale's tail can hang from. And there it sat, occasionally taken down when I needed it for my pop, or when I showed it to others. The last time I had it down was two weeks ago when I showed it to Sarah when she stopped by for that piece of apple pie.

So two weeks later, last night, I am in my apartment waiting for my stories to start, and just flipping through channels to see if anything interesting happens to already be on, when I come across a show on exorcisms. I never watch those paranormal shows, but for some reason I decided to flip this on and see what it had to say. And I was pleased with it, mainly because they were only interviewing Catholic or Greek Orthodox preists, and despite all the bad press I still trust them more than pretty much anyone else I see on TV. So I figured this could be a legitmate show on exorcisms. And I recalled reading a few months back that the Church had been working with Discovery on such a show and I thought this might be it.

After one particularly creepy segment I called home to tell my parents they might want to turn it on. I find myself a little skeptical, especially of anything on TV, but as I was sitting there in my apartment, alone at night, the show was sufficiently creeping me out. And I wanted to share the experience with others. So I call home, and my Dad picks up. As I start discussing the show with him, I hear a loud bang in the kitchen and then a couple seconds worth of loud constant noise, followed by silence. It was loud enough that my Dad heard it too.

As I've previously mentioned, lately I've been working out. I attribute my running to the fact that I did not have a heart attack last night. Because when I heard that terrible noise, in an already creeped out state, my heart started pumping a mile a minute and I broke out in a sweat. To me it sounded like my ice-maker had decided to drop a ton of ice into the bucket, and that bucket then fell through the freezer down into the refrigerator where it crashed into my food and shelves. But then I thought of two things. One, my ice-maker was turned off. Two, that was a completely insane idea.

Heart racing, I decided to peek into my kitchen. Doing this I noticed something black and small on my floor by the laundry doors. My laundry room happens to be directly attached to my kitchen. Think of my kitchen as a long skinny rectangle with three openings. You have one of the smaller sides as an entrance, the laundry doors make up the other smaller sides, and then on one of the longer sides by the laundry room doors you have another entrance.

It turned out that small black object on the floor, against my laundry room doors was my whale. The thing is that I have it hanging on that little piece of wall on the next to the opening on the other side of the rectangle. So it had managed to fall off the wall, and then slide across my entire kitchen floor until it hit the doors and stopped.

Now it is entirely possible that I did a poor hanging job and that due to the vibrations that occur on the wall do to doors slamming and people walking that the whale naturally fell off. That is what Dad said and that is what I said in order that I might go to sleep. But still, I find it is a noteworthy coincidence, that after hanging there for two weeks, the whale happened to fall vertically straight down in such a way that it generated enough momentum to then slide horizontally across the length of my kitchen, all while I happened to be watching for really the first time ever a show on exorcisms.

Rationally I think this really could be explained away by simple physics and odd timing, and I simply hung it back up. Nevertheless I also took a bottle of Holy Water, yes I have some, and squirted a whole bunch on that whale. Then thinking about it I poured some on my hand and made the sign of the cross just for good measure.

Dead Mouse Technique

2011-08-29T06:28:00.000-07:00

It's been over two months since I gave you all my relationships update. The reason it has been over two months is because not much has changed. But let's see if I can come up with anything interesting.

During this summer, Sarah and I didn't get to hang out much. As I last mentioned, when she was in town I tended to be out of town, and when she was gone I was here. When we were both here, she typically had visiting friends. So we didn't get to meet very often. And we also weren't talking much either. This of course caused me to freak out and led me to texting a bit more than usual and trying to come up with outlandish ways to get her attention. I found the best way to get her attention is to leave her things at her front door. While I realize this has made me somewhere around the level of a cat or dog who leaves "presents", nevertheless it works. Any sort of backed goods or food in general will win her over. For example, one time I made pralines and gave her some, and later that day I got to see her. And like on last Thursday my Mom decided to tell me all her opinions about apple pie and that led me to craving it. So even though it was rather late to start making an apple pie I proceeded to, from scratch I might add, and asked her if she'd want some. She did, and even though it was 10:00 and she had 130 pages to read the next day, she still came over for an hour. The chief problem for us is that she is very busy, and also isn't looking to be in a relationship right now. However, to my optimism, she has told several other guys to back off when they ask her out or pursue her but she has never said that to me. And occasionally she does call me up first wanting to do stuff. Typically it's to work out, or walk around the pond, but she has gotten in touch about taco Tuesday.

Well that's lovely, I've made a new friend but this is could be a dead end. So while trying to see where things go with her, I have gotten back on the dating sites. Ugh. That's all I feel like saying about those.

Flora Friday

2011-08-15T12:15:00.000-07:00

This article caught my attention. The reason being that since lately I am in exercise mode I was curious about the amount of protein I need. I am curious to know how much protein I get in my typical diet. I don't eat too much meat, except maybe for supper. But, as this article points out, there are many other ways to get meat. Although there is clearly a second motivation to this article which is really about helping out the environment, and it did make a few interesting claims.

What really caught my eye was this mention of "Meatless Monday's" at the bottom. Apparently there is now a growing trend of people abstaining from meat on Mondays. I will grant that this appears to be more of an environmental movement than anything else, but I find it absurd that the Catholic Church which is rather well known for promoting this practice (not just during Lent) since at most the 12th century, was completely left out from both the article and the "Meatless Monday" website. Yes the reasoning behind the abstinence is different, but come on seculars, at least give a shout out.

Dropping Stuff

2011-08-15T11:03:00.001-07:00

This past Saturday while at Mass a little boy and his father sat next to me. The boy, probably between 10 and 12, came in first and sat to my left. He was well mannered enough saying "excuse me" before just barging into what was otherwise my entire half of a pew.

At the end of Mass, as we are all singing the final song, I saw from the corner of my eye him reach into his right pocket, pull out a large piece of lint, and drop it on the floor. So for the next few seconds I stared at him with a bit of a scowl as I continued to sing. Eventually he looked at me, at which point I looked at him, then at the ground, then I went back to the book I was singing from. He sort of shuffled his right foot a bit, I thought he was trying to cover up the lint with it, as though that might make me forget I ever saw it in the first place, but eventually he bent down, picked it up, and put it back into his pocket. Then he looked back at me, and I turned to him, broadly smiled and mouthed "thank you", and then I finished the rest of the song.

The lesson here is that we do not throw our lint onto the ground in Jesus' house. In fact we ought not throw our lint down in anyone's house.

I was very happy he picked it up. I think he'll remember that for a long time. I can still recall when older kids corrected my behavior or taught me things. But while that was a critique I prefer to give praise. Whenever children go out of their way showing exemplary manners I always try to tell their parents if they are around. Once a small boy ran ahead of me as I was going into Mass to hold the door for me. His parents got a good compliment. The other day as I was walking around on a small sidewalk I heard a young boy coming up behind me while riding his bike. I stepped off the sidewalk and onto the grass so that he could ride on through. And as he passed he said "thank you". His parents also got compliments. In this case I was impressed that the small boy was able to piece together that I could hear him coming, got out of his way, rather than he out of mine, and thought to show some gratitude for it. The reason I do this is because I think, for the most part, the only time parents hear about their children from strangers, is because of something negative. Ha ha, or at least that's all my parents heard about me! So I like to think they appreciate it, and I'm hoping their children definitely appreciate it come Christmas time.

Finally I will comment on this title because I'm nearly positive no one will get it. My memory here is a little vague on the actual details but when I was in middle school, probably 8th grade, I made some comment about "stuff". And my teacher got angry at me for not being more specific in my speech. Her argument was that pocket lint is stuff. I think I was trying to appear cool and non-nonchalant about something as though it was no big deal, and she wasn't having any of that. And interestingly nowadays I can't stand that sort of attitude. Anyway that year our class got to have a time capsule, to be opened at the end of high school. And in that time capsule I put in an envelope marked "stuff" and inside was a bit of blue jean lint. I wish I could say that since then either my maturity, or at least my sense of humor has noticeably improved.

Irresistabullish

2011-08-12T06:50:00.000-07:00

Watching some videos this morning on a slow internet connection I made a discovery. On youtube videos during the loading there is a little circle of dots that goes around and around. But if you click one of your arrows keys it takes off and all of a sudden your playing a game of worms where you are a worm and you have to eat the pellets! It moves pretty quick too so it's challenging for me. You can try it yourself on the below video.

Sunny Annoyance

2011-08-11T06:13:00.000-07:00

Window washing is a tricky chore. Even before getting started a cleaner needs to be chosen and there are a lot of cleaners to choose from. For example there are window cleaners for house windows and window cleaners for car windows. To me it's all glass, so I would think only one cleaner ought to be needed. The other tricky problem is that the cleaner I use to wash my mirrors is not the same as my window cleaner. It seems to me like they should be doing very similar actions, but apparently they are differently formulated. So just going to the store and picking out a good window cleaner can be quite the challenge.

Recently I washed my windows, and, running low on my old cleaner, I had to go and make the decision of what product to get. In the end I sided with the original one I had been using because it has ammonia in it. I have been told by Mom's, the world's largest authority on cleaning, that ammonia is great for chasing away bugs. Where I live I have a ton of spiders. I bat down their webs and the next day it will look like I was never even there. Fortunately they stay outside for the most part, but nevertheless I don't like being hit in the face with a web everytime I venture outside.

After selecting a cleaner you then have to select a fabric. Long ago I heard newspaper is the way to go. In fact I'm told the best way to wash car windows is to use Diet Coke and newspapers. Apparently the acid in the coke will eat through all your grim on the windows. Don't use regular Coke though because the natural sugar will make a syrupy mess. Anyhow, I wasn't about to use any pop whatsoever on my windows, considering I already have a bug problem. I don't think ants are going to take the Pepsi challenge on the fact that I used Diet rather than regular. The newspaper however is intriguing. I've never used that before but imagine it would be difficult to work with. It's not exactly as free flowing as a towel and it doesn't seem like it would be very absorptive. But unlike towels it probably wouldn't leave fuzz everywhere. Rags can work, but I find I need a lot of them because once they get soaked through you can't use them for drying. So I used paper towels. Not very environmental I know. The other option is to use a squeegee but my windows are in small panes, and I can't one of them inside the boundaries of the pane.

Okay cleaner check, fabric check. Now I'm ready to clean. And what a breeze it was. I sprayed my cleaner, wiped it off, and that section of window looked great. Next section, same process, it too now looks great. Then I step back to take a look at my work so far. But uh-oh, even though just one minute ago my first section looked great now I'm seeing streaks. So now I have to go back and really push hard with a fresh paper towel to get rid of them. But their presence seems odd. After all just a minute ago I had no streak. And now I see them on the second section I worked. And all this hard rubbing is starting to make this chore suddenly much more difficult and frustrating. Plus you can't always see the streaks. Sometimes you have to orient yourself in odd positions. Like you finally get the windows done, go back in, put everything away, and then see from the inside looking out that it appears all you've done is simply spread a foggy film over all your windows.

Finally I had all the streaks under control and was ready to call it quits. At this point I called my Mom because I knew she'd be so proud I washed my windows. When I told her about the streaks she said the problem was that I washed them in the sun. That was something I didn't know. So on this tutorial Thursday let us all learn that windows should not be washed in direct sunlight because otherwise you will get streaks. There are other chores you would be best served by not doing in direct sunlight. Applying car wax is one such chore. You should always park your car in the shade when applying car wax.

Even though the simple chore turned into a rather laborious process, the results were worth it. If you haven't washed your windows in awhile and if they have grim on them you might be used to looking through them as they are. But at least for me the difference between my now clean ones and the grimy version is incredibly large. In fact a few years back I gave a speech for a retreat and used this process of cleaning windows as an analogy for cleaning our souls. Anyway, the difference was spectacular and now I'm very happy everytime I look out of them.

The cleaning took place during the middle of my afternoon. The very next morning, I had brand new spider webs up over my doorway. The ammonia did not run them off.

Keep on Running

2011-08-08T09:44:00.000-07:00

Over the past five or so weeks I've taken to jogging. I've been doing it fairly regularly and get out a few times a week. The first time I did this I wanted to do two laps around my apartment complex. This is right around two miles. I remember getting through the first lap okay, but I needed to walk for parts of the second. I tried to keep the walking at a bare minimum. Just enough to ensure I wouldn't have a heart attack. The next morning my legs were in a good deal of pain. But what surprised me was when I tried it again about a week later. This time I was able to get through the two laps much easier and didn't have to stop to walk. The amount of improvement between those two times was enough to make me want to see how far this could go.

For the most part I still do two laps, and I try to get them in at around 20 minutes. So ten minute miles. I have no idea how this compares to others, but it's what I shoot for. Just yesterday I was able to do three laps and got them in at around 29 minutes. And that was with stopping to tie my shoes during the first lap. So I'm still improving which is good. That was one of the reasons why I started. I wanted to get my stamina up so that when I play tennis I can go strong for a much longer time period. The time it takes me is not my primary concern, but it is fun trying to sprint just a little longer or set a slightly faster pace. I would have prefered to get this exercise from tennis itself, but unfortunately I do not play often or long enough to get much improvement.

When I started jogging I would throw on whatever old shoes I had lying around. This caused blisters and my legs hurt a lot. The blisters I assumed were from using improper shoes but the leg pain was more troublesome. I think I felt more confident of my leg strength and assumed the shoes were causing the pain. But in reality I believe I just hadn't as much leg muscle as I thought and I needed to build it up. So then I started adding much more protein to my diet. Now, after yesterday's three laps, my legs don't hurt nearly as much anymore. Even when I do a sprint at the end I can't get them hurting as much.

Last week I decided that maybe I am making a habit of this and that I should get a proper pair of shoes. So I went to a local running store with my old walking shoes. I brought my old shoes so the clerk could look at the wear on them and get an idea of how I walk and run and then know what sort of running shoe would best suit me. It was a pretty simple process and before I knew it I had a pair of shoes. There was a guy next to me getting shoes too. His clerk asked him if he was running for a cause. The guy said he was running for St. Jude's and that he was doing 30 miles. It sounded like he meant that in one day, but I've since been told it is probably 15 miles spread over two days. Either way, at the time I couldn't jog for 30 minutes, so 30 miles seemed and still seems mighty impressive.

The new shoes have prevented the blisters but my legs still get weak so that's why I feel I need to get them stronger.

I've been using the jogging to improve my tennis but there is another reason why I've been jogging. Basically it has to do with balance. I don't exercise that much, and have a rather sedinatary job. So jogging regularly has been one concrete way I could bring exercise into my life. I feel there are a number of things people need to have a balanced lifestyle. Work, hobbies/relaxation time, spiritual growth, exercise, socialness/friends/ and volunteering. Right now my two areas in need of greatest improvement are exercise and volunteering. And those two lacking areas have been bothering me for sometime now. The jogging helps, but I want to add more strengthing, so the other area of exercise I want to add is rock climbing. First off rock climbing rocks. It is a ton of fun. Also rock climbers have the body of David so that's pretty cool too. As for volunteering, well that's coming.

Finally, and in a most fitting way, let us all wish WAM a good run later this week. She's going to be in a 5K.

What You Say to Strangers

2011-07-26T12:11:00.000-07:00

'Vehicle' by Ides of March is an amazing song. That beat is incredible and you just want to sing along. The other day as I was listening to the lyrics I was a little shocked.

"Hey, well, I'm the friendly stranger in the black sedan,
Won't you hop inside my car?
I got pictures, got candy,
I'm a lovable man, and I can take you to the nearest star.
...
That I love you. I need you.
I want you, got to have you child. Great God in Heaven , you know I love you."

Let's start at the beginning. He's a friendly stranger going up to you on the street asking you to jump into his car, and he's got pictures. I can't help but wonder what sort of pictures these are. But they must be very impressive. For example, no one has ever enticed me to do anything by saying, "Hey, how about coming over here and saying 'Hello'". "Ummm, no thanks I'm fine." "I've got some nice pictures to show you." "Oh well in that case, yes, please let me in." And he's got candy too. That should be enough. But apparently not, some people won't be lured by candy, but they just can't resist the temptation of pictures.

Next. He's a lovable man. Oh my. I just can't imagine this sort of pick up line working for me. "Hi, I'm friendly." "Go away." "But I have pictures and candy to share. And I'm lovable." Okay, that's sort of cute. But let's keep going.

"Got to have you child." Oh my. Maybe with people his own age this would be fine, but he's singing to children!

I've always wondered why this doesn't get more air time on the radio. And now I think I know.

Bewildering Children

2011-07-20T18:38:00.000-07:00

The other day Mom called me out of the blue. She had an “important message” for me. Growing up I had a few Mercer Mayer books. They are children’s picture books with short stories revolving around these little critters. The stories are cute and I liked looking at the pictures because there was usually a spider or mouse somewhere on the page that was fun to find. Those little touches really make books worth opening. The prime example of this is the classic “Eleventh Hour” by Graeme Base. If you have never had the joyful experience this book provides, stop reading this and go pick it up immediately. Then come back and finish this.

Mom called telling me about one particular scene in the Critter books. The scene is in the grocery store. Momma steps away for a moment with the baby critter, maybe to change a diaper or something, and the little brother and sister wander to the candy aisle. When Momma finds them, the little girl says she wants candy. “You can have candy tomorrow but not today.” “But I want candy now.” “You want a time out now?” “No time out.” That is how the, at least of 2006, revised edition of the book goes. Mom noticed this change. When I was a child it went like this, after the little girl back talked, “You want a spanking?” “No spanking.”

I am not a parent. So at first I may seem grossly inexperienced to comment on parenting. But the way I see it, other than age, there are pretty much no qualifications or experience necessary to become a parent, so my opinion is just as good as any. If you feel there is a hole in this line of thinking, then let me point out that I am sensational, so you need no other reason than that to read on.

I actually have no idea how I will raise my children. For a long time, a hands on approach seemed to be the way to go. Nowadays, it seems to be frowned upon more so than it used to be. But it’s not so much the approach that I think is important as it is where the approach is coming from. Maybe the approach is based on anger, frustration, or even joy and happiness. After all just as one may overly discipline a child, that child could be overly rewarded. I think the approach used must come from one based entirely out of love for the child. How we feel at that particular moment with the child is irrelevant. This is important because this culture of ours has us make essentially every decision and life choice out of how we feel about it rather than based on any morality or objectiveness. That means that if the child messes up on Tuesday, he might receive a different punishment than if he messed up on Wednesday, for no other reason than because his parent was more irritated on Wednesday. And that is inconsistent parenting. Punishments and rewards should be consistent and have to based upon so many different case by cases that adding in something as variable as our emotion is unfair to the child.

All of this got me thinking about other parenting issues. Like setting examples, and what makes for a good parent. The following example is meant to sound practical, I have no idea if it actually has occurred, but it seems plausible enough. Think of the smoking Dad (just thought I’d point out that my Dad doesn’t smoke) who tells his children not to smoke. I can understand the reasoning behind this. He doesn’t want his children to make his same mistakes and become addicted like he is. But what bothers me is if that Dad doesn’t do everything he can to stop smoking. That sets a bad example. I believe children learn more from the example of our behavior than by our words. That means if our actions contradict our speech, then the children are going to side with our actions and not the words. So it isn't enough to simply tell children not to smoke. The smoker must actually try not to smoke. At least I find fighting that temptation would be better than for him to essentially say to his own children, “I am a weakling who has become complacent to my bonds.” What a defeatist attitude to portray to our young ones. Okay fine. You’re weak and have no desire to change yourself. It’s not the weak part that angers me but the lack of any desire to put up a fight. I can get behind someone who constantly strives to be better even if he constantly falls. Maybe the smoker never can get over it, but at least he kept trying. That’s all anyone can ask. If you are addicted to something to the point where you feel you cannot do without it then you are a slave and should fight those bonds. Now years later that parent’s addiction causes him to suffer from severe health. Now he is ready to put up that fight. This is disgusting. He wasn’t willing to fight to set a good example for his children, but now that his personal health is endanger, now he is willing to fight. He just put a higher value on his own health than on his children’s upbringing. He cared nothing for setting a good example, but cared everything for saving his own life. The child should be more important. The love for his children should compel him to fight to stop smoking so that he can ensure he can be in the best of health which will help him be able to provide for all of his children’s needs.

Then there’s the lighter form of inconsistent parenting. Such as making chicken soup. My Mom actually had a light argument with me when I told her how I was going to make it for Sarah when she was sick. The thing was that I was going to make it exactly how Mom made it for me all my life. But she said she wouldn’t make it that way for anyone other than me and my sister. See when Mom makes it for us, she doesn't change out the vegetables. So when she cooks those carrots and celery she doesn't throw them out and add new ones once it's done. She says that when I make it for others I need to cook it with carrots and celery and onion, and when it's done I need to throw those out and add fresh vegetables. For example, she likes to add those frozen waffle cut carrots. But she never in all my life made it that way for us kids. And that’s inconsistent parenting. I can’t make a proper bowl of chicken soup because my Mom wasn’t consistent with my upbringing on this subject area. Nevertheless I can't feel too slighted by Mom, afterall my Mom's chicken soup, as she prepares it for me, is the best chicken soup in the world. Even without waffle cut carrots.

I have no idea how I’m going to raise my children. I can’t even manage to get a girlfriend. My feeling is that proper parenting can only come from love for the children. Proper parenting can never come from that day’s ups or downs. But that makes it more objective, and that runs counter to how our current culture believes we should live our lives. So I guess being a parent isn’t exactly an easy undertaking. The level of self-denial required is pretty much beyond my comprehension, but hopefully so is the love that comes with having a child. And at that I have no experience.

Backwards

2011-07-19T17:57:00.000-07:00

After dinner out tonight, I drove by a man walking to only he knows where with his thumb out. He was scraggly with dirty clothes. I thought about picking him up, but the problem was I wasn't familiar with the area, and I didn't want him to know that. Nevertheless I was a little displeased that here was a clear opportunity to help someone and I was purposely passing it up. While he was scraggly I find it's not the ones who approach you frowning who take your money but the ones who approach you smiling. And it didn't help that just prior to this at dinner I had another swell opportunity for interaction.

See at dinner, at a burger joint, as I was getting ready to go, a girl walked by who sat down at a table by herself. This was the type of girl guys are warned about looking at in magazines or movies because we're told they don't exist in real life and we're going to start expecting a fantasy. My mind raced with what to say to her. I decided that being right next to an amazing ice-cream stand, that I should ask her out for ice-cream when she finished dinner. I also thought about just introducing myself and asking her if I could join her to chat. But in the end I didn't ask her anything and simply left. Of course as soon as I walked out the door I thought about walking right back in, but decided that might be creepy. So I thought it would be less creepy to sit near by on a post, partially hidden from the door and when she left I could get up really quick and pretend I just happened to be walking by. And I did that. But after a few minutes of that I decided I should just get on and I left. Nevertheless it made me think about what would have happened it just prior to dinner I hadn't gotten myself into a very long talking to.

I was walking through the streets of Dayton trying to find the burger joint I was looking to eat dinner at, when I happened upon two guys walking in my direction. I asked them if they knew where it was at and they said I passed it up. So I turned around and walked with them. At this point one of them asked if I could now do him a favor. Not liking this I said yes and he asked if I believed in second chances. Very much not liking this I said yes. And then they proceeded to tell me about how they were trying to get their acts together by working good jobs and earning money to go to college and improve their lives. They said they could not accept donations but were wondering if I could buy a magazine from them. They are part of a group that apparently awards them for selling magazines. Apparently the proof they need that they can interact well with people, and thereby get more help from the organization, is by selling magazines to people they encounter. I can't remember the name of the organization they were representing, but they said it was like Big Brother or Sister except for older people. One of the guys gave me his list of magazines, which even if I didn't want I could donate to, and I looked at it, but wasn't about to buy anything. For one I had no cash on me, and I wasn't giving a stranger my credit card information. For another I don't like charming strangers who are seeking something from me. They are off putting reminding me of that smiling thief I just mentioned. And I didn't like that I couldn't simply go to their website and make a donation in their name if I was interested. But even though they handed me the list they didn't actually ask if I wanted to buy one. In fact after a few minutes the guy who handed the list to me asked for it back.

For most of this time we were standing at the corner where I needed to cross the street to go to the burger joint. And at this corner was a bench where an older lady were sitting and listening to us. Towards the end she started talking. One of the guy's started sharing his back story which was very sad but a little over the top. For example his 15 year brother was just arrested for 15 years for dealing heroin. There are so many problems with this claim that even if true it is just too horrible to believe by a complete stranger. And he himself had a checkered past but was trying hard to ammend his ways. Hence his question about second chances. And the lady sitting nearby wanted to talk about her Uncle who while in prison earned his high school dipolma and wrote a book. But despite his attempts at ammending his life he suffered from a heart attack and died while still in prison. But she was very proud he was able to write a book that you can get at any library. I can't remember his name but it went something like Marvin Fuenke.

While I was happy that I did not actually have to say "no I do not wish to purchase a magazine", I was getting frustrated about my inability to say anything other than yes or no. Notice above where I said I was talked to. I was simply unable to get in any words in edge wise. When I tried everyone just talked over me. Maybe these three just really needed to talk but it wasn't a conversation. Like this blog, but going by my lack of comments in most posts, it's clear there is little to add to anything I say. Whereas these three had all sorts of things that could be added. But finally they talked themselves out and needed to move on with their day and gave me their farewells.

At the end it was just me and the lady sitting on the bench. She wanted to talk about how after listening to those guys she was happy they were trying to get their lives in order and make a positive difference. And she talked more about her Uncle and how happy she was that he wrote a book. And that she wished more people would take the time like I did to just listen to others. That she didn't know anything about those guys and neither did I, but that I took the three minutes out of my day to listen to them. And that more people need to take just a few minutes to listen to others. And that God will always listen, and no matter how busy we are He will listen. And that everyone can turn their lives around, like her Uncle, no matter what situation they are in, and make a difference. Even if they are in prison. And hopefully those boys will hold onto their hope and they will stay strong and continue making positive changes in their lives despite all the previous mistakes they made. But eventually even she winded down and I got to speak. And I said, "every Saint has a past, and every sinner has a future" (thank you Oscar Wilde), and then, much delayed, crossed the street to the burger joint for dinner.

A Smattering of Color

2011-07-14T07:08:00.000-07:00

A while back I posted a few very old family pictures that I was given at a family reunion. Interestingly, I had a cousin who I've never spoken to find those pictures through google images. What a small world. I tried to repeat her search but was unable to find the image, so I have no idea what keywords she used but I met a cousin out of it.

Those old photos are really cool. They mean more when they're your own family, but even not it's still neat to look at them and see the different styles of dress, hair cuts, and what people did for fun. I always get a kick out of seeing the men dressed impeccably. You still see girls my age out in summer dresses from time-to-time, but it's very rare to see guys dress up in suits. And if they do we think they're just putting on a show. Although, unforutnately its becoming rare to see even the girls dress up anymore. Still to be fair this was probably taken on a special occassion, like maybe on a Sunday. While men did dress up back then, it wasn't uncommon to see them in just a regular white tee-shirt tucked into their pants. Nevertheless, even that screams manly, whereas nowadays we have guys walking around in hideously ugly capris.

The problem with the photos is they're in black and white. Sure black and white photos can be really artsy, and there's nothing quite like the old black and white films. But God let us see in color, so for fun I've tried adding color to two photos.

This first one was my first attempt. It's a picture of my great Grandparents on my Mom's Dad's side.

I actually met them both. My great Grandpa died when I was still young, but I remember trying to get that cane away from him, and then getting yelled at by my parents for bothering him. I knew better though, he was purposely teasing me with that cane, and this was my Mom's Grandfather so she and probably Dad too had to behave. You know, like how us kids always tell our parents they have to be do what their parents say. It's the one time we get to see our parents be the kids. To my dissatifcation however great Grandpa never told my parents to be quiet. But he didn't stop playing with me either. Great Grandma I mostly remember being in bed. I knew her when she wasn't stuck in her bed, but she lived for a longer time than my great Grandfather and she spent a good portion of that in her bed. The story of how they met is for movies.

They were both came over to the States when they were just young teenagers, like 16. They both came alone without their family, and wound up living very close to each other and that's how they met, and eventually married and here I am today.

The next picture is one I just finished up last night. This one was particularly tedious and so I was happy to actually have started and finished this project. I'm one of those people who starts things but rarely completes them, so this was like an exercise in discipline. This one is of my Dad's Mom's siblings.

I think it was taken in the late 30s or 40s. I think the lady in the blue dress was great Aunt Ann, my partner in water balloon tosses at family reunions. I'm not sure on the others. The men are all dead now. But I think the other two ladies are still with us.

Plumbers on a Sunday

2011-07-07T06:38:00.000-07:00

It's time for a tutorial on outdoor drainage systems. This weekend past I went to my sister’s to help my Dad with this outdoor drainage system he’s been installing. There’s been a lot of water entering her basement and he’s been trying to stop that from happening. When I got there I saw that he had dug out a very long trench along the side of the house and well into into her front yard. Saturday morning when we got started Dad gave me his explanation of how things were working.

Essentially he wanted to install a new drainage system for the two water spouts on the right side of the house, and a French drainage system for water that flowed down a nearby hill and might collect by the side of the house, as well as the water that just naturally falls there. At the moment he had the trench wide enough for one tube’s worth of drainage. He needed the trench wide enough for two tubes. The way the French drainage system works is that you lay a piece of fabric in the trench, then you take a PVC type pipe that has finger thick holes drilled into it like a woofle ball, and place it in the trench with the holes facing down. On top of that you put gravel, and on top of that you grow grass. When it rains the water soaks into the ground like it normally would, but as it collects it starts to rise up into the holes and when enough is collected it travels down the PVC pipe and away from the house. The spout drainage system originally went into large copper pipes that went very deep into the ground and went somewhere. We don’t know where the copper pipes lead because they go down so deep. The problem is that over the years the copper can crack and when that happens the water can leak out and start causing problems. Dad thought maybe the copper pipes had cracked somewhere along the basement wall and was causing water to leak into the house.

So when I got there he had an initial one tube wide trench dug. That in itself was quite a feat. It was a long trench and had to be back breaking work. Right away I, who always try to avoid demanding labor, convinced him that we didn’t need to double the size of the entire trench. Rather once we got past the side of the house and into the front yard where leakage wasn’t a problem, we could take the two tubes and feed them into one. That way we would only have to double the part of the trench that went along the side of the house. He liked that idea, and for the rest of the weekend we worked on just the drainage for the spouts. That was quite the project. For two days we cut, glued, and laid PVC pipe. This was a massive geometry problem. I learned early on that Dad should have bought the pipe first, put it together without the glue, got it the way he wanted on the yard, made markings on the grass, and then dug his trench. But since the trench was already dug, we were trying to fit the PVC tubes into Dad’s trench which wasn’t always straight or cut at nice angles like 22.5, 45, or 90 degrees which are the three angles PVC connectors come in. This became a huge challenge for us. But in the end, we managed to get the drainage system for the spouts completely put together and we doubled the size of the trench along the house for the French drainage system.

Saturday and Sunday it was sunny. But on Monday, when we had just a little bit more to finish up, it started drizzling. And just, like to the minute, as we got the last piece in place, essentially connecting the first half of the drainage with the last half, it began to pour. The contraption was a success and the water gushed out of our new drainage system. Next weekend Dad has to install the French drainage system to account for the water that falls into the yard and nearby hill side, but it should be much easier for him, because of this weekend’s experience and that tubing despite also being PVC based, is much more flexible. And now you know all about outdoor drainage.

Fine Way to Start the Day

2011-06-30T06:07:00.000-07:00

This is a good way to start any day. I'd say wait until you just wake up to watch this, it'll be better.

I wish I could have this much energy at 1:30 in the morning!

H20 Plus Nothing Please

2011-06-27T19:14:00.000-07:00

Polls can give an interesting insight into the habits and thoughts of many people. Being that it's summer I had a troublesome question pop into my head earlier today. I was curious about how many people urinate outside of toilets. In particular I was curious about showers, pools, and beaches. The numbers are horrifying.

Let's start with our showers. According to a 2004 survey by VertiSpa, 42% of Americans urinate in the shower. When you're that close to the toliet this is just laziness.

In the ocean, a 2009 study by TripAdvisor found that 53% think it's fine. As if it weren't already polluted enough by the rest of the animals in there.

In the pool, a 2009 study by CNN found that 17% have done it!

I find that 17% number rather startling. So about 1 in 6 people do this. I am positive I have at least 5 friends. After all I think I have at least 3 readers. But me plus the five means that one of us almost assurdedly urinates in the pool. I do not. So I've narrowed my search down to five people. Out of everyone, WAM hopefully you contain yourself. After all you're supposed to be writing a book on these types of matters, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. That leaves four. Eew, I get sick feeling just thinking about that.

Horse Play

2011-06-20T06:04:00.000-07:00

This weekend I was invited to a going away party. The girl who invited me on that retreat is heading off to France to become a nun. While there she will be spending several years studying Philosophy and Theology all in French, a language she doesn’t know yet. That is going to be really hard. They are already difficult subjects, particularly because you have to be very precise in your language. Imprecise language can lead people to draw wrong conclusions. I remember on my exams getting a lot red marks when I was being too general in my language and I wound up saying things that could easily be taken in ways I didn’t mean. So she has to learn all this from classes taught entirely in French. Also she probably has to learn Latin and Greek. It’s hard enough to learn a foreign language, but try learning one being taught to you in a language you haven’t learned yet. It’d be like learning trying to learn Norwegian over in China. That on top of the cultural changes, and the fact that she is thinking about becoming a nun, are enough to have us keep her in our prayers.

At this party I only knew a few of the people. Fortunately some of those people are very old and dear friends so I had a few folks to talk to. But they had friends and family visiting and it was a large party and it wasn’t like they were going to be babysit me the entire time so occasionally I had to keep myself entertained. Fortunately there were a ton of little kids running around. At one point I was by a swing hanging from a tree which is for little babies, because they can be strapped into it, when one little three year old came running up and asked me to make her fly. That seemed safe enough so I picked her up as quick as I could and took her as high as my arms would go. I was shocked about how easy this was. I thought she’d be a lot heavier. I did it again and this time I got her into the leaves of the tree which I thought was pretty neat, but one nearby Mommy, Sarge, told me to be careful. So I put her down and she ran off.

Not a moment later she was back, this time asking me to swing her by the arms. While I understood the mechanics of her request, it seemed like a horrific idea. I was already a stranger to most of these people, and I didn’t know if they’d be very pleased seeing me swinging one of the young ones around by her arms. I imagine most people would not like strangers flailing their children about by the arms. Also, I was concerned that during this swinging about that her arms might rip off her body. I felt that this would almost certainly guarantee my being asked to leave. So I asked Sarge if this would be alright, and she said the little girl would be fine. We already know I have a lot to learn about child raising, and just because I think something is odd, doesn’t mean it isn’t the entirely appropriate thing to do, and so Sarge’s approval on the matter was enough for me. I grabbed her by the hands and we started slow and gradually built up speed to the point where she could no longer keep up and she started flying in the air. All I could think about, as I started getting tired, was that she was not a discus and I couldn’t just let go. Most fortunately I did not let go and we both came to stop and wobbled around a bit from the dizziness. She wanted to go again, but I said I couldn’t so she ran off to whatever new thing had grabbed her attention.

And just a second later she was back asking me to put her on her shoulders. I asked her if we shouldn’t get better acquainted first, but she was insistent. I knelt down with my back to her to let her climb up but she didn’t get very far, and told me she couldn’t climb on. I asked her how to get her on my shoulders if she couldn’t climb on and she told me I had to lift her on. At first I couldn’t understand how I was supposed to lift her up and on. I can’t lift her from behind me, but after a little thought I finally puzzled through the physics. You’re supposed to pick them up from their behind and lift them up and over your head. And that worked fine.

Her six year old brother saw this and decided he wanted to play too. But he didn’t want on my shoulder, he wanted to play pirates and he started attacking me with his sword. Fortunately he didn’t swing it hard. Instead he was more like a fly. Yeah, they won’t hurt you but you can’t but help swatting it away. I grabbed it and started trying to pull it away, but he held on tight. So I started lifting and turning, essentially causing him to lift off the ground much like his sister before. Then he let go, but his hand got hurt in this process, I think it got a little pinched, and he was sort of crying. But I knew that while it must have hurt some, it couldn’t have hurt as much as his theatrics were trying to convey. I told him I knew he was faking and I wasn’t giving back the sword, and after trying a little bit more, he realized he was caught and ran over to the swing. I felt like I was in American Gladiators as he started swinging it at me like a big ball on a rope. Now I realize I could have simply walked away, or done any number of things here, but what I felt was a good idea was to kick it. I noticed it was at about a perfect height for me to kick it right back at him and hard. I thought it might hit him hard, but he had his hands up as he was pushing and they would stop it just fine. On the next push I kicked it back at him and hard. Oh my. It went a lot faster than I thought and for whatever the reason he had put his hands down, so it hit him right in the side of the face. And now he screamed for real. Realizing I was about to be thrown out of the party I prepared myself for the oncoming onslaught of furious mothers and generally everyone else at the party. But apparently no one saw because no one got up or even looked until after the screams occurred. They saw me go over to him and wrongly figured that this grown man must have some experience consoling children so I guess they considered the matter resolved and went back to their conversations. He was just hollering up a storm and even though I bent down and hugged him telling him he would be okay, it wasn’t working. Cutely his sister, still on my shoulders, patted him on the shoulders and told him he would be alright. I even offered him the sword. He reached out to grab it, but I said he still wasn’t getting it and pulled it away. That didn’t stop him from hollering any but I got a laugh out of it. At this point I realized he was going to be fine, despite the very real pain he had to be suffering through. Eventually Momma came over and did what they do best, and got him to settle down a bit. She asked, “what happened.” “The swing just hit him right in the head.” “Oh yes, these things happen.”

Knowing he was in good hands I left him be with his Mom and his sister started directing me around. But soon enough we were back by the swing, and not three minutes after I kicked that swing he was back again ready to go. He said that this time I was supposed to kick it as hard as I could and he would get out of the way really fast. I said no let’s not do this. He tried to insist, but being 3 minutes wiser I walked away. And with no sword he decided to try shooting fake laser beams at me. All’s well that ends well.

Served Without Maple Syrup

2011-06-16T05:51:00.000-07:00

The other day my friend and I were talking about the loaded nachos that you can get at the club house where I live. They are pretty good. Actually most of the food there is excellent. For example their tacos, burgers, and fries are some of the best in town. Their fries in particular are quite good. They're waffle cut and made to order. Although now I feel the fries from Penn Station could possibly be better.

So we were talking about the nachos when all of a sudden he had a stroke of genius. Let's order the nachos but replace the chips with the waffle fries.

Amazing, I know. I did not know at the time but others have thought this up before my friend. This dish is called Irish Nachos, probably because it is made with potatos, and it is a triumph.

Nothing to do with Star Wars

2011-06-15T16:24:00.001-07:00

Apparently Gurney is too hard at work to answer her phone. So I have decided to tell the entire world what would have been just my conversation with her. I was at the grocery store today getting the essentials when I noticed a boy walk by. That's when I realized it was Lucas.

Now Gurney knows who Lucas is but most of you probably do not. Lucas is blind or very close to it. As far as I understand his story, and Gurney it's your fault for not picking up the phone if I get the details wrong, his Mom died of cancer when he was very young. As a result he was sent to live with his Aunts. His Aunts took him in, but were not ever planning on having children let alone one with special needs. So they had to make some very rapid and drastic changes to their lifestyle. Where Gurney comes in is that she would occasionally take Lucas out for a day of fun to give his Aunts a break. And where I come in is that I joined in a couple times.

Lucas is an exceptionally sweet child. He just needs some extra care. When I was with him I found that this could particularly challenging. For me the difficulty lied with his desire to be physically close to others. So when he talked to me, he liked to be only a few inches, if not centimeters, away from my face. Now despite his trouble with vision, Lucas is much like other proper boys. By that I mean he is germy and dirty. If you are a young boy and are not germy and dirty in the summer time this is sorrowful. And once we took him out for pizza, a rather messy dish for a blind child. When he would talk to me he liked to have his mouth inches from my face. I suppose it was very cute, but I had comfort issues. Other people who do not mind this sort of close physical proximity would just have had a ball, but it was difficult for me.

So I ran into him at the grocery store and wanted an update on his life for Gurney. The problem was I couldn't remember his name. It had been a couple years since I had seen him or heard about him. I didn't know a tactful way to handle the situation so I just asked his Aunt and she told me his name. He's now in the 8th grade, when I last saw him he was in the 5th, and is much taller now. When I saw him in the store I nearly didn't recognize him. But some things do not change, he still was all about being close to others. His Aunt said he is doing very well. I wanted to try and ask him some questions but found myself failing to come up with any good ones. Like I nearly asked him if he has gotten into any sports, after all he was wearing a very atheltic outfit, or if he's played any good video games lately, but then I realized those might not be the best questions to ask.

And that's the update on Lucas. Going into the 8th grade and has grown maybe as many inches.

Lipsticking Cars

2011-06-13T09:09:00.001-07:00

Today is Monday, but I want it to be Tasteful Thursday because I can't think of a good name for Monday to go with this article. Lately I've noticed water building up in the driver and passenger floors of my Pilot. In fact, Kelly noticed on the passenger side how her feet were essentially in puddles. During the winter I noticed on some mornings the insides of the windows would be frosted over, so I thought all this water was the winter frost unfreezing. And I thought all that frost was from the water vapor in my breath. Let us forget the fact that this has never happened in any car I have ever owned prior to this occasion. So I figured all this water build up will simply go away once the days heat up and it can evaporate.

But spring time came around and we had some hot days and the water didn't go away. In fact it seemed to get worse. About this time I needed new brakes, so I took it in to get those replaced and asked them to look for a clog because maybe my air conditioning wasn't properly draining water. Not that I had used it very much up to this point, but since I felt that water vapor could create puddles let us not be surprised that I felt that running my air conditioning a couple times could cause floods. Also I noticed that when I did use it, water wasn't coming out of the tail pipe like it sometimes does on other cars.

Sure enough they found a clog, and I was happy. But after driving it for a few weeks after that the puddles were back. I also noticed the water wasn't draining out of the tail pipes like I thought it should be. So I took it back to the car folks and asked them to recheck that they got all the clogs. They did and were certain my water build up was not from the air conditioning. Well that was odd to me because any other leaks in the car should certainly get other things wet than just the underside of my floor boards. At this point I had determined that the water appeared to be coming from the bottom up rather than from the top down. For example, my puddles did not appear to be coming from leaks around my windows that dripped down onto the carpet, but rather they seemed to be coming from under the carpet and coming up like a spring.

This oddity perplexed them too and they decided for a handsome fee to remove the carpet altogether to have a better look. Pay attention to that. They removed the carpet and if they found nothing they could still charge me because this way they could be sure when they put the carpet back in it would be nice and dry and that way I wouldn't have to smell mold. For $450 I can roll down the windows and put an air-freshener in. But it is what it is.
Today I got a call from them.
It went a little like this:
"Hi, did you have a sun roof installed?"
"No, it came with the car."
"I see, well that is the cause of the leak. See sun roofs have a built in drainage system so that water doesn't get into your car. But this drainage system wasn't properly installed and now it is draining under your passenger side floorboards and has a caused a lot of rust and if it were allowed to continue you would have had major structural damage not to mention the mold and spores. So it is great that you took it in."
"This all makes sense I suppose. (Actually it made no sense. I thought that's what seals were for. I didn't see why my sun roof needed internal drainage if it had weather sealers. It's not like our car doors have internal drainage systems. But I'm not mechanical engineer). But the first question you asked was if I had the sun roof installed. I did not. In fact I got the car from my grandparents and I am positive they would not have had one installed. Are we sure it didn't come with it so that we can bill this to the manufacturer?"
"We checked the VIN number and sure enough your car didn't come with a sun roof. That means the dealership installed it."
"How horrible. What will this repair run me?"
"A little over $900."

Not having much experience at buying new cars I didn't know this sort of thing occurs. By that I mean I didn't know that dealerships will augment cars to make them more attractive to purchasers if the manufacturer defaults don't appear to be enough. So the dealership added a sun roof to make the car more attractive to potential buyers. I guess a lot of products have this happen to them. We go from painting oranges orange to photoshoping magazine photos. So a dealership adding a sun roof shouldn't be surprising. Especially since this has happened to me before. Last year I had a crack in the front window of kitty-cat and I had a new window installed. I asked for a window with the wires in it, because my current window had the wires in it that allowed it to defrost. I thought that was so cool, that I could defrost both my rear and front windows. Not that I had ever figured out how to defrost the front windows. I noticed my owner's manaual didn't quite agree with the button layout I had in my car. So the repair man came and took out my front window, but as he was getting ready to install the new one it broke on him and he had to get a new one. During this process he noticed something. While my old window did have those wires, he noticed that the two main wires, to which the smaller ones plug in which then plugs into the car, were cut. So the person who installed this window simply put it in for show. There was no where to plug the wires into, so they cut the wires and simply made it look like the car could defrost the front window. Now I do not know for certain if this was a dealership move, but I am fairly positive given the history of the car that it was.

So to end this Tasteful Thursday on a Monday article always check your cars from a dealership to see what if anything they did to it after they received it from the manufacturer or previous owner, and if they offer any warranties on their work. Let's keep it classy.

Update. Okay this isn't really an update since I haven't posted yet, but I was trying to think of a title and I started thinking about lipstick. I was clearly naive and thought dealerships wouldn't change a car to make it look better. I also thought that if they did change a car that the work they did would be top notch because they'd have qualified people do the work. Then I realized this is like me thinking that all girls can apply makeup in a manner that will enhancement their appearance. If you are confused it is likened to the idea that anyone from Asia is a master at martial arts. So I often today I find the skill young woman have at applying makeup is a travesty. All Mom's should teach their daughters how to wear makeup. And if you don't have a Mom to teach you then you watch one of those style-based networks that are so addictive, or go to a department store at a mall and ask. There is an art to it, and while the art of an inexperienced 4 year old is exceptionally cute it is upsetting when that same art is produced by any one older and made out to be a masterpiece. Clowns belong in the circus.

Hello Goodbye

2011-06-08T17:12:00.000-07:00

This past week I have been on travel back to where I was last month. I didn't have ice-cream this time from the nice stop though. Instead I decided to try new brands from the grocery store, although I feel a little bad about not supporting the local businesses. The brands I tried were interesting, I got a blackberry flavored brand and another that is like carrot cake.

The last time I was here, Sarah was back where we live just hanging out. It was her first time all year where she didn't have to worry about school and was in town. That made me being here particularly aggravating. Shortly after I got back she went home to visit her family and receive her friend from Scotland. Her friend is Chinese by descent and actually lived there for a number of years before moving to Scotland. But she doesn't have a Chinese accent, she has an English accent, so she's pretty amazing to talk to. I know this because after being home for about a week they both came back to where I live for a week. And their last night in we all got to hang out. Other than that, Sarah and I mostly just got to talk when we happened to run into each other around the apartment complex.

So she went back home to spend the last few days with her friend and I went off on my business trip and here we are. Tomorrow I go back, but she is going to be staying at home for awhile longer because she is helping her parents around their house.

So it seems like Sarah and I get to meet to say goodbye. The first date has still yet to occur. But the few times we do get to meet up things go about as well as could ever be hoped for. Like for example, the night I came back into town last time I got in around 11. But Sarah and I still met up to go on a walk around the complex and spent a little over an hour together outside by the pond. The next day we were supposed to go on a picnic but she got sick, possibly from food poisioning, so I made her homemade chicken soup and took it to her. I had never made chicken soup but it came out really well and she ate all of it. Unfortunately that didn't help her stomach any and she was sick for the rest of the evening and we didn't get to meet that night. But we did get to spend the day time together outside again by the pond. Nevertheless, with all this spearation coupled with very little communication, I suppose it should be easy to start to grow concerned about our situation, which is not likely to improve for the next week or even longer due to another out of country friend of hers, this time from Australia, possibly coming in to visit. But I have carrot cake ice-cream and it's hard to be worried when you have carrot cake ice-cream to help pull you through.

Beat Those Eggs

2011-06-01T05:44:00.000-07:00

The other day I had a hankering for Key Lime Pie. When I desire key lime pie it comes as a surprise because I do not particularly care for the pie or even for limes in general. For me they are just too tart or sour or whatever flavor it is about them that makes me pucker my mouth. But nevertheless occasionally I get cravings for the pie. I think it's the color that attracts me. The pie has that nice green color that really works well against the brown crust. So it looks really appetizing. If this sounds weird I think it's similar to vanilla which smells so good but tastes so bad. That smell makes me want to eat, just as that look of the pie makes me want to eat it.

And so the other day I made one. Nearly from scratch, but I decided to use the pre-made graham cracker crust. The interesting part about making the pie was the topping. The pie part required two egg yolks. I hate being wasteful and now I had two egg whites. So I decided to make a meringue topping rather than use whipped cream. The idea behind meringue is that if you beat the whites and add sugar, and just keep beating them, eventually you get this amazing white fluffy concoction. It really does take a while though. Like I was sitting there beating the eggs and the sugar and nothing was happening. But after a couple minutes eventually everything changed. That was so cool. Okay, probably most of us have at least seen this before, but I haven't done it myself before and I thought it was cool enough to warrant posting about.

The other thing I learned about key lime pie is that the green color is artificially produced with food coloring. That took some of the magic out of it, because I thought lime juice would be green. But it was fun adding the food coloring. I felt like an artist adding dabs of yellow and green to get just the right color.

And with that right color and fluffy white topping the pie really looks great. The problem is it still tastes like limes.

Gold Colored Crayon

2011-05-28T20:11:00.000-07:00

It's that time of the year again. Beast bush needed a haircut once again, and this time I also did a bunch in my parents' back yard. Fortunately Dad was a little more physically than vocally helpful this year.

Before I went out, Mom wanted to show me the aftermath of one of her mosquito bites. For some reason, mosquitoes seem to be very attracted to her, and what she showed me was horrifying. The bite was on her upper right thigh and it looked like someone hit her because there was a tremendous black and blue mark. One thing to note about Mom is that she bruises rather drastically. Curious I asked her if she was wearing any gold. She told me her wedding band and engagement ring is white gold. So I asked her to take it off and rub it on her face. Immediately her skin turned ash colored where ever she rubbed. She didn't believe me until she saw for herself in the bathroom mirror. Then she had me do it and nothing happened. Then she went over to Dad and started rubbing it all over his face and nothing happened. Content that the ring was now nice and clean she tried it again on her face. And her face turned black again.

Yep, it looks like Mom is anemic. I remember when I first heard about this. My middle school science teacher was talking about how gold jewelery can cause the skin to change colors. For example fake gold chains tend to leave green lines around necks. And people with low iron levels tend to have black marks left when real gold is rubbed up against their skin. My friend is anemic and she told me she brusies very easily, which is what made me think my Mom might be when she showed me that mosquito bite.

Nevertheless Mom protested that every day she takes a vitamin that has 100% high iron levels and eats a bowl of 'Frosted Mini-wheats'. The reason the cereal is noteworthy is because I noticed one day that the iron content in every version of 'Frosted Mini-wheats' I've seen is 90%. I didn't have an answer for her as to why her skin was turning black. But it turns out that at the end of the day she tried it again and this time she noticed no black marks. So maybe she had low levels in the morning before she had much food and before the vitamin was completely absorbed.

I had never seen the black marks before and thought it was pretty cool seeing how quickly they formed on her face. It was like drawing with a marker.

Five out of Six

2011-05-20T14:43:00.000-07:00

Apologizes are in order for not getting the third and final post of my mini-saga out on time. Happily I was visiting an old college friend who I haven’t seen in over a year, but sadly I didn’t get back until much past my bedtime and the next day I was traveling back from my business trip. Actually I am here at the airport typing this up, and hoping I can post it tomorrow (Friday).

We left off with Sarah finally calling me to meet up early Sunday afternoon. Since I hadn’t seen her apartment yet, she invited me over to have a look around. Since we live in the same complex I was curious to see her layout. It turns out our apartments are very different. For example she has a fire place and vaulted ceilings. But in the end I prefer mine, which has a wonderful view.

After having a look around, we sat down and talked for the next two hours. And she let me know how her weekend went and where we stood. She told me, she told her ex-boyfriend their relationship was over between them and that she still really wanted to go on a date with me. I could hardly believe it. And for the next two hours we talked about us and her interesting weekend until my friend Will called wanting to get Mexican. Sarah was up for going, remember he was with us for last taco Tuesday, and we went out to join him.

Since it is tasteful Thursday at this point I cannot help but mention the profound sadness Will and I had while eating at this Mexican restaurant. Recently our favorite Mexican restaurant, and in everybody’s opinion who ever ate there, closed its doors. This new place we go to is voted “best Mexican in town”, but Will, myself and everybody who ever at the other restaurant know the truth.

Will frequently comments on his opinion of Sarah and me. He thinks we are great together in terms of chemistry and our interactions. Sarah also approves of Will so for me I am happy that both my friends get along. I think it is important in any relationship that the significant other can be friends with the friends.

After Mexican Sarah and I watched a movie and then called it a night. During this entire time, she made it clear that this was not a date. She wants to be able to dress up on the first date, and since the weather wasn’t very good that day, dressing up was out of the question. So we still have yet to go on our proper first date, but things could hardly be better. And that concludes the three day mini-saga.

In other news, when I checked in at the ticket counter to my surprise my seat is located in first class! I’ve never flown first class before. I wonder if they’ll let me have free drinks and food. If that’s the case I will be asking for Juicy Juice in a glass and an ice-cream cone with sprinkles, but only the yellow ones, so I suppose they’ll just have to sort them out.

Close Encounters

2011-05-17T14:08:00.000-07:00

On Friday I had to go to the store to get a new computer mouse. Mine accidentally broke at work on me earlier in the week. The store is just down the way from where I live so I occasionally walk when the weather is great, and on Friday it was. My walk takes me past the gazebo that extends out over the pond where I live, and as I walked by I noticed Sarah and her ex-boyfriend were sitting out there enjoying the sunset. He had his back to me, so waved at her, but then she waved back and he turned around. So I texted her I was just going to the store. On my way back they were still there. This time she texted first and made a comment about me being far off. I told her I like to avoid conflict.

On Saturday night I decided to go to the club house where I live to get on the internet and do some research. There was a little band in there playing guitars and a harmonica with some good singing. I thought about telling Sarah this but then decided not to, because it would be awkward if she came with everyone. And I didn't want her ex-boyfriend seeing me texting her in case he's the type to check these things out.

Well she and her crowd came anyway, and sat right across from me. I waved but kept my head in my books for the most part. Then Sarah came over to say hello. I told her this was really awkward and she completely agreed. But I didn't leave because I thought that would be worse. Fortunately the whole situation passed without incident. But while I was indeed studying I couldn't help looking up now and then to make a gauge of how Sarah and her ex-boyfriend were doing.

My impression was mixed. He was laughing and she was laughing. But I couldn't tell if they were mutually laughing at each other's comments. I didn't see them holding hands under the table or playing footsie. When they left he was standing very close to her but kept his hands at his side. So no clear signs there.

Now on Saturday and Friday, a little after midnight Sarah texted me essentially saying she was looking forward to Sunday. See on Thursday after getting overwhelmed with her sudden guests she asked if we could meet again on Sunday even though Wednesday was supposed to be our "goodbye". I said I understood her want to see me again because of my desirable physical traits, and she decided to cancel. But I groveled and she relented. But I wasn't sure how to take these texts. After all she was spending most of the weekend with a four year old boyfriend who was spending the entire time trying to win her back. So again I wasn't sure if she was just looking forward to hanging out with a friend and the idea of dating was off. After all I have a ton of friend who get excited about seeing other friends and text and call and all that, but they are just friends. The idea of dating these people would seem absurb to them.

Sunday finally came around. I was hoping I'd see her first thing in the morning. But then realized this would likely not be the case. Here her ex-boyfriend would be trying his hardest, and likely crying would occur. So I waited and waited. Waking up early made the day go a little longer. Finally around 2:30 I heard from her.

And here is a wonderful spot to take an ice-cream break.

Yes You May, No You Can't

2011-05-16T16:43:00.000-07:00

Being able to go on a date and going on a date are two very different things. I might as well say, yes you are more than welcome to fly to the moon. But just because I give you permission doesn't mean it is ever going to happen. Such is my current situation. Amazingly, Sarah said we could go on a date. Better yet, she said that ever since she saw me she was hooked. Well it's been nearly a week since then and we have yet to go on our date.

My friend came over to visit last Wednesday and asked a few basic questions. He didn't want to ask too much because he didn't want me thinking too much about it. But he was happy to hear I managed to score a date. I told him, oh yes, I got that far but it may be weeks before I actually get to have a date with her. You see she was still in the midst of finals at that point of time. Her finals ended on Thursday but she wanted to spend some time with her friends before they all left her for summer. Then I had to go on travel for work for a week, which is where I am now. When I get back she is going back home to visit for a week and is bringing back a friend from Scotland for another week. Shortly after that she has a friend from Australia coming to visit and I will be back here in mid-June. So basically we had this past weekend.

I told my friend this, that we essentially had this weekend to go on a date before we would be separate for possibly 3 - 5 whole weeks as I understood it. So with my luck that means we wouldn't get to meet this weekend, it would be five weeks before we got to meet, and by then she'd have a boyfriend, and I'd be the pleasant chum she walks around the pond with from time to time.

At the precise moment those words stopped I got a text from her. It said, her brother and girlfriend unexpectedly decided to visit for the entire weekend. Just lovely.

But ever hopeful, I figured she'd be able to bug out at least briefly for some point during the weekend. And sure enough later that Wednesday night we did get to meet up. She wanted to say "bye" thinking this would be our last chance to meet for awhile, and we ended up taking a trip to Meijer for computer paper, binder tabs, and Baking Soda. The Baking Soda was her taking my advice as to how to possibly remove the heavy curry smell from her neighbor that wafts into her apartment and tends to collect beneath her sink cabinet.

That was a lot of fun but more of a tease. I wanted to spend a lot of time with her not just a quick half hour trip. But I still kept hopeful that we would be able to meet for a little longer before I left. Thursday came and after her final I got another text. In addition to her brother and his girlfriend, a childhood friend of hers decided to visit, and horrifyingly her ex-boyfriend was waiting for her on the steps of the school building as she came out from her last final.

Her relationship with her ex-boyfriend lasted for four years. And he had decided to come and visit for the entire weekend. He's also a friend of her brothers. Delightful.

Now, so far in my life, if ever another guy decides to pursue the same girl I am he always wins without exception. My junior year in college I went and knocked on the dorm room door of my friend ready to ask her out, anxious as always in these situations. When she opened it she excitedly said, "Hey guess what?! So-and-so just asked me out!" After the required completely fake but mutually-shared excitement for her good news she asked what brought me to her room. I mentioned she had invited me for hot chocolate and I was taking her up on the offer. She was suspicious of this, but didn't press the issue too far. About a year and a half ago I told her the full story. You already know about Suzy and how she decided to re-pursue a relationship with her ex-boyfriend who lives in Europe. And then there's the other one, who three times now has chosen another guy. So five out of five times, the other guy has won, and it looked like a sixth was about to happen. Because while I may have been the cause of Sarah to be "crushing hard", I have nothing against a four year old ex-boyfriend.

Since I am not in the heartland of activity on this business trip, I've decided to break this up a bit to give me something to do. I figure these posts, like this one, may be a bit long and with all this typing I need to rejuvenate with ice-cream. And fortunately right across the street from me is a home-made daily ice-cream stand. Oh boy! So off I go for ice-cream, and tomorrow I'll be back for the next part of the story.

Tacos and Texts

2011-05-11T05:18:00.000-07:00

Taco Tuesdays tend to be good days. This taco Tuesday in addition to my regular friend we had a guest join us, Sarah, the girl who walks around the pond. Bringing an outsider into the group can always make for disastrous circumstances. Fortunately there was good meshing that occurred all around. Nevertheless I was a little anxious about the whole situation.

Earlier in the day I had acquired Sarah's personal e-mail address through some internet searches and decided it would be a good idea to write her an e-mail and invite her to taco Tuesday night. Happily she was not creeped that I managed to find her e-mail and also accepted the invite. At the time I didn't think my other friend was going to be able to make it. But then later in the afternoon he called up asking if we were still on. I told him about Sarah and he said he had no problems with her joining. Then I got in touch with Sarah to ask she minded if my friend came and she said no. Phew. I tend to live by the 'more the merrier' philosophy and just hope everyone I'm with can get along swell. This can lead to very awkward situations but again this time things worked out.

Now after tacos, Sarah was going to study for finals, my friend was going to work on his doctoral defense, and I was going to go do whatever it is I do. In this case it was probably going to be to sit down with ice-cream and watch 'The Voice'. But instead I wound up studying with Sarah like I did that other night. Speaking of that other night, only about 5 minutes of studying occurred out of the 3 and half hours we were at that caf. Last night about 15 minutes of good studying occurred out of the 6 hours we were together. So at 11 she decided she really needed to hit the books.

At this point I did go get my ice-cream and started watching 'The Voice' which I had recorded. Sarah started texting some messages about her disagreement about my feelings on jean shorts, and then out of the blue she said she has been inexplicably "crushing hard" for me since she first saw me walking around the pond.

Prior to this point in time I did not know if she had a purely friend mindset. I had been planning on asking her on a date as soon as her finals ended, but had some concern that if she only wanted to be friends that my asking could put a damper on things. So I told her if she could have just waited 2 more days I was going to ask her out. But now, through text no less, was as good a time as any to ask. And I did. Which apparently threw her off gurad because she had no idea I was interested.

That last statement needs some attention. I see this all the time, where girls think of the guy as only a friend and that all he is looking for is friendship. Then after a few days or weeks when he asks her out she is shocked. Come now.

Anyway, turns out we are planning to meet up sometime after her finals to go on a date. No idea when or where yet, but it's great to have all the difficult stuff laid out and out of the way.

Laundry Day is a Very Dangerous Day

2011-05-06T19:39:00.001-07:00

Yesterday my laundry needed done. That seems like terrible grammar but I like it and am not changing that sentence. Unfortunately I didn't have any detergent, so I went out to the grocery store to pick some up. Now you should know I have sensitive skin. Or at least I think I do, because whenever I wash my shirts and then sit in a chair such that they are pressed up against my back I itch like crazy. It is really unpleasant and can be rather embarrassing. All my life I have had this problem. Mom used to wash our clothes with 'Snuggle' until one day she finally got fed up with my complaints and changed it to something else. I don't think she really believed I had a problem with it, but didn't want to hear me whine anymore. This actually saddened me a little, because I really like that cuddly looking bear.

So yes, I'm a bit particular now about my detergents. And I saw that 'Tide' has a hypo-allergenic brand. It goes for about $12. Then I looked over and saw that 'Downy' has a hypo-allergenic brand for $3 less. So very proud of myself for price comparing, I bought the Downy and went on my happy way.

When I got home I noticed the cap was a little small, and just figured it must be really powerful so I can use less. Then I noticed the liquid was much more "liquidy" than I am used to. So I poured in a half a cap full and then read the bottle. That was when I read "fabric softener". Oh dear. So I went back to the grocery store, got my Tide and came back to start my laundry. My amazing $3 savings turned into a $9 expense.

For those of you who did not find that story fascinating, I have other news to tell. The girl who walks around the pond with me, invited me out to a frozen yogurt buffet yesterday. That was a lot of fun. And then tonight she texted me asking if I was at least enjoying my Friday while she was studying for her finals. I told her I was just getting ready to go out to do work, like entertain you, and asked if she wanted to join. She said, "yes". And so, she is at this very moment sitting directly across from me, typing away.

Got To Start Somewhere

2011-04-30T08:28:00.001-07:00

Last night the apartment complex I live at had a weenie roast. It started at 5, and my friend who walks around the pond with me wanted to go and was looking for company so we went together. We were the youngest there by 30 years or more but it was a lot of fun, and we ended up leaving just under 3 hours later.

No major horror stories here. I cooked our hotdogs and they came out real good. And we walked around some more. She is incredibly busy with school right now so we sort of talk when opportunities present themselves. It's not like we have any future plans set. But once summer gets here we plan on hanging out more. I am looking forward to that. I have one friend who lives in the complex already and it's fantastic being so close to him. It's sort of like college but with our own places to go to, so we minus all the roommate drama.

In other news, tonight I'm going salsa dancing with my friend who I stood up a few weeks ago. Now I'm all for salsa dancing, but I curious to see how this will go. I find girls can be very different when it comes to dancing. Before I took lessons, it seemed like every girl wanted to dance. Now that I can dance, to some very limited degree, so few girls want to dance. They are all shy and self-conscious. I wonder what happened in the ten or fifteen years since middle school to them. I also find they lose patience quickly. Like if they can't get the basic step immediately they give up and just go do their own thing. Fortunately even if she cannot get the basic step down, the salsa moves can translate easily to something else. So doing our own groove is okay, but I find the super-easily defeated attitude worrisome in general. Overall I think girls love to dance, it's just that they want to move to rhythm as they see fit. The only problem is for us guys who have to try and guess what that rhythm is the girl is feeling. If we could just stick to a style things would be much easier and probably more fun. "Oh I don't want to be limited to one style. I want to be free to do what I want." Well fine, but don't expect the guy to be able to have clue one of that that free-bird style is or how to physically accomplish it. But since this was Lhea's idea I have good hope that she is both excited to dance and motivated to give salsa a real go.

Bag of Bunnies

2011-04-25T06:00:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter! Yesterday was a good day. I was up at 5 and consumed only candy and Mountain Dew until around 11:30 when I bowl of frosted mini-wheats. But they were the new fruit filled ones so I got my nutrition. In a first, this year the family came to visit me.

Now I've mentioned the girl who has been walking around the pond. Since then I have ran into her a few more times. last Thursday we were walking around when I asked about her Easter plans. Saddenly she said she had none because of upcoming finals and she couldn't afford to take the time off from her studies to make it home for Easter. So I invited over for lunch with my family. When I was in grad school I had to miss some of the major holidays so I know what it's like. What surprised was that she said okay and gave me her number. Well I didn't really expect she would come but nevertheless I got a phone number out of it.

And when lunch time came around, sure enough she backed out. But on Saturday and Sunday I still wound up talking with her. Saturday really was a completely chance encounter. I was going to go feed my friend's fish while he is out of town and decided to walk there. Now on Saturday I found out that she loves Mountain Dew and is Catholic. Oh my. Then on Sunday we purposely met up for a walk, where I gave her a bag of Easter candy from my basket. Every child should get candy at Easter. Then I found out she regularly goes to Mass and wants a big family. As she put it, she only has three older siblings. So we have a devote Catholic, who is super smart, loves pop, wants a large family, is quite attractive, and will be living in the same apartment complex as me for the next 2 years.

I was told by WAM that buying a ring at this point in time would not be proper.

Nearly Chance Encounters

2011-04-20T05:54:00.000-07:00

As the weather has been warming up, I have been getting outside more. Generally this just means me walking around the pond where I live, until summer hits when then I get to add sitting at the pool to my list of activities. But nevertheless, despite being only two activities I'm still out in public and that means I'm bound to run into some people.

What I like about walking around the pond is that you get to see all the old faces and new ones. During winter I never know who have stayed around and who have left. So when Spring rolls around I get to see the old faces of those that stayed. These people tend to be friendly and chatty. The new faces are interesting too simply because they are new.

This year as I've been walking around there's been a new girl who runs or walks around a lot. I found that I always ended up walking in the opposite direction of her, which means that since the pond is circular we have to pass each other. And every time we passed she would say "hi" or smile. Speaking of which, the pond is only about a mile in circumference. So you can pass some people several times during the course of a walk. The first time the greeting is easy enough. You just say "hi" and walk on. But the second, third, and however many times after the first start getting more difficult. I tend to always smile. So on the 2nd time I'll smile at the person, and the third time too. After that things start getting too awkward for me, so I try to lighten things up with a comment about the number of times we've passed. I always walk so a 4th time pass which I think has only ever happened twice only happens with runners. So I'll just grab my heart and pretend to be faint just watching them. Still it would be very helpful if there were some Miss. Manners guide to how to approach multiple but brief encounters.

After last Saturdays latest failure I wasn't too worried because at the very least there was this girl who runs around the pond and always smiles. So on Sunday I decided to walk around the same direction she runs. See I always walk in a different direction each time. So if I go clockwise on Monday then on Tuesday I'll go counter-clockwise. But she always runs in the same direction and it just so happened we were always out at the same time when I was going in the opposite direction. So this time I went out walking in the same direction as she typically runs. Now you may be thinking I'm a creep for waiting by my window all day until I see her running and then I know when to take my walk. Well no I don't do this. I just go out and walk a lap or two and then head in. If she's out there it is by chance. Okay, there's a little more strategy than that on my part but it's mostly chance. I do tend to time things based on when she is typically about.

I keep going on tangents. So I'm walking in the same direction and when I went out she happened to be running. I walked in the same direction because I wanted to see what she was going to do when she passed. My hope was that she would slow to a walk and join me. But I was expecting a wave as she ran on. Well for once my hope was actually granted because when she caught up to me she slowed down and walked. And for the next hour we talked as we walked around the pond.

Then yesterday I was out walking, again it just happened to be in the same direction as her at the same time she was out, and again we talked. Not for an hour, but for a decent amount of time.

So that's wonderful. Still no phone number or planned meetings but this isn't a bad start.

European Men and 1517

2011-04-17T13:19:00.000-07:00

Cracker Barrel may be a favorite locale for old people but I like it. The food is good, that little gift store has some neat things, it is a relaxed atmosphere, and they have checkers. Nevertheless many of the people I talk to feel it's not the best place for a date. This was disappointing as it was where Suzy and I had date number two yesterday.

It was her idea go to there. I was rather excited that she thought to go there. Despite the odd first date, the last week we were still talking frequently. We were actually supposed to meet on Thursday for putt-putt dinner and a movie but I got stuck on a trip for work. So Saturday had to do. Also I noticed she deactivated her online account. That was a promising sign about how she felt about our relationship. I drove on down and met her at the restaurant. And happily, she was definitely more awake this time and much chattier. While we looked over the menu and the waitress took our drink orders we chit-chatted about each other trying to get to know one another better.

After we placed our orders, and I was enjoying my orange juice she said that she wanted to break things off now because she is Protestant and I am Catholic and she's not converting and neither am I. Well that's not the first I've heard that before, so I didn't get too upset by it, and was grateful she was up front about it from the beginning.

During this time she told me she is going to try and get back with her ex-boyfriend who is single again. He lives in Europe. Up to this point I thought I was merely competing for the attention of girls from guys in about a 200 square mile radius. But apparently I have to consider guys on the other side of the planet too. Nothing like the Atlantic is going to keep love from happening. That would also explain the deactivated account.

And this is probably where it was a good idea to come to Cracker Barrel because I ordered the Country Fried Steak and despite my now soured mood, it and the apple sauce side I ordered considerably helped the situation.

For Det Første Dato

2011-04-10T09:02:00.000-07:00

For a couple weeks now I've been talking to someone on one of these dating sites. As usual the girl found me first, e-mailed me, and I responded. And yesterday we went on our first date.

Suzy, that's her name, lives about an hour away. For four years she lived in Europe doing missionary work. This has led her to have some interesting characteristics. For example, she can speak Norwegian. I thought this was pretty cool and so after we decided to meet I decided to go pick up a book on the subject. And I've been working at it a little bit for the past week. It's easy enough to read, but it's really hard for me to pronounce. I've never been very good with enunciation, and this language makes my tongue do somersaults trying to get these words out.

Another thing she's picked up is the attraction to European style dress for men. I'll admit they do tend to dress for success, but here in the states it's just not our way to dress really nice for day-to-day activities. I wish people would change out of their pajamas when they go out, so some sprucing up would be a good thing, but not to their extent. At some point I start to wonder where trying to look nice and professional crosses into just purely materialistic. Still it made me happy to hear that I may have found someone who will like my skinny jeans.

Our first date was at a coffee shop where she lives, and happily I arrived on time. We both got smoothies. Right away though I noticed something was wrong. All up to this point through our texts and e-mails, she seemed rather excited to meet up. But when I walked in, I got the feeling she didn't really want to be there. I was further convinced of this when every time I started talking she started yawning. Like I was literally putting her to sleep. She said she was exhausted from work, and this was possible since we met right after her shift, but still it's hard not to think that just a polite lie.

After our drinks we walked around down town, which is literally one city block. And soon enough she said she had to go. After my typical 3 - 6 hour first dates, this wasn't boding well for me. So I asked her what she thought and whether or not I'd get a second date. And she said she'd have to think about it, that she doesn't just jump into these sorts of things, but that I was nice. Well that's a nice put down if I've ever heard one.

So I felt a bit bummed because I didn't feel like we gave things a proper chance to have a go. But different strokes for different folks and all. When I got home I sent her a text saying thanks for meeting, and then surprise of surprise she wrote back and said not only that she had a good time but that she wants to come visit me and have dinner sometime. So maybe she really was just very tired from work. At any rate, at least there's another date in store.

Joyful Noises

2011-04-08T19:17:00.001-07:00

Here are a few ways people make a joyful noise unto the Lord.

and

and this one I cannot listen to without crying

and here is a very joyful man to help dry your tears

3 Days 3 Quotes

2011-04-05T05:48:00.000-07:00

Cousin: The weather was beautiful yesterday and while I was walking my two year old daughter around the new neighborhood we passed by a house that was freshly mulched. She asked, "who pooped?"

My co-theology student: The Pope's new book on Jesus is out.
Me: Yes I heard. I've read some reviews on Amazon and they are all very good. At least last I checked. Apparently people of all faiths are digging it.
Yeah, I saw it there too.
Did you get it?
Well I went to the bookstore and saw it is really long.
Yeah, it is really long.
Did you pick it up?
No, when I was on Amazon I got Donkey Kong Country for the Wii.

After a cell-phone conversation about the soles of dress shoes and how far they should stick out from the main shoe.
Me: Hey, this reception is really good.
Yeah, it's not bad.
Aren't you still driving home from Pennsylvania?
Yeah.
That's incredible, I don't hear a peep. Really, this is great reception.
Oh, well I'm not driving at the moment. I'm in the restroom at McDonalds.

Standing Up Then Sitting Down

2011-03-24T17:11:00.000-07:00

It's well past time for a lady update. So, I believe we left off with me and Monica hitting it off. And we did. For about a month we mutually said we were dating. During this time, while we were becoming better friends I noticed that she was clearly either not digging me or not ready for a relationship. Being a good person she is a very busy person constantly working with children either at school or through her youth group. It became clear a balance would be needed if she were to maintain a relationship with me, and that was something she was unwilling to do because a balance with me would mean taking time away from her kids. So for now we remain friends and chat a bunch but we aren't dating. Actually we met up this past Friday.

Since then for a little while I was exchanging messages with a girl who lived about 4 hours away. This was actually going very well. It was the first time, in probably two years I've been doing this, where I messaged someone completely random first and got a real response back. Once before I managed to get a 'lol' but that was all. Here I actually got some meaningful feedback. So that was good, but theneone day she just stopped writing back. Not sure what happened there. I don't think I said anything crazy or creepy but she simply stopped.

More recently I received a message saying I had the best profile ever. Funny how two people in the same week said as much. But one lived on the other side of the country so that wouldn't work. But the other is here where I live. After a small number of messages we decided to meet up for burgers at 6:00 last Thursday.

When Thursday rolled around, I ran some errands and then arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early and decided to sit in the car and wait to till she arrived. A half hour later around quarter to seven I decided to look in the restaurant and see if somehow she escaped me. But I didn't see her so I left to go to the library. I checked the original e-mail and then I groaned. Notice I said I went in at quarter to seven, meaning I arrived at 6:20. I thought we were supposed to meet at 6:30 and stood her up! So I e-mailed her apologizing profusely and she, having a smart phone, promptly wrote me back saying she was rather embarassed but accidents happen. So I told her that if she wanted maybe we could try meeting another time, or if she was still in the area maybe we could still meet as I was only 5 minutes from the restaurant. She said she was going to a bar to chat with some friends who were there but that I could meet her there and we could walk to the restuarant. So I did that, and met all her friends being the guy who just stood up their friend. They were nice about it. Then we went to grab dinner. I asked if she was hungry and she said she already ate while she was waiting. Groan. We went in and the waitress came over, and said to her, "You were just here!" Then she looked at me and said, "I saw you come in here and walk out!" So I was glad someone saw me come in. Apparently when I had, she was still there but I had somehow missed her and she didn't see me.

Oh well. After all that fiasco she's still talking to me. We actually met last night too. Although I think in this case I've found another friend rather than a new relationship. Hard to say for sure, but we have some rather large differences. Plus she may be going off to Princeton. It's either Princeton or Stanford, but I think it's Princeton. She's getting her Ph.D in political science.

Meaty Dispensation

2011-03-24T06:10:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is March 25th. That's 9 months before Christmas. And so tomorrow is the Annunciation of Jesus, the day we remember Gabriel's visit to Mary and what happened. This day is considered a solemnity. Solemnities are solemn if you didn't know. And that means they are meant to be gravely serious. But being serious doesn't necessarily mean being somber. Solemn is definitely a sad sounding word. It isn't like some words that sound much happier, like twinkle. Twinkle is a very happy sounding word. Solemn is depressive just listening to it, and so that's probably why so many of us automatically assume that solemn occasions are meant to be mirthless. But it also means awe-inspiring and holy. Like that sunrise was a solemn beauty. Not like, I was at the grocery store looking at cereal when a solemn beauty walked by.

So solemnities can mean sad and some can mean glad depending on the situation. Well that's great, tomorrow is a solemnity on a positive note, which means it's really a day to be serious about celebrating. There are other days like it too. Christmas and Easter are two that spring to mind. I suppose they don't have to be religious based, but saying something like Flag Day is a solemnity doesn't sound quite right. It's like when I get a five line piece of code working and I say "that's awesome" and my co-worker says "You've done what any half competent ninth grader can do, atta-boy, but forgive me for not dropping to my knees in awe at its magnificence." I sort of just ruined the word 'awesome'. Likewise marking other days, like Opposite Day, as solemnities might start taking away from it's powerful meaning.

But there's a small problem. This particular solemnity happens to fall on a Friday in Lent this year. So some of us aren't allowed to eat meat. In fact for some, Friday's tend to be rather miserable every time of the year. A lot of people don't eat meat on any Friday, and perform other small sacrifices as well, out of remembrance of Good Friday, which we could call a bitter-sweet solemnity. But it's hard to go to a party as a good guest while saying "I'm here, but I'm not going to partake in the celebration cause it happens to be a sad day of the week in history." A few centuries ago, Christmas happened to fall on a Friday. And some friars at a monastery weren't quite sure what to do. Friday's were days of fast and penance, not frivolity, but it was Christmas. So they went to their head brother, and one of them, Brother Morico, asked their head brother, Francis, if they were obliged to abstain from meat since it was Friday. St. Francis responded, "On a day like this I want even the walls to eat meat, and if they can't at least let their surfaces be smeared with it." Here was a man who was serious about having a good time.

Not in the Money

2011-03-21T05:28:00.000-07:00

When Monday morning rolls around, stumbling out of bed to get ready for a brand new week of work isn't too difficult since I am fortunate enough to like my job. However, I am unfortunate enough to have to go to work. This past weekend I was hoping to change that by winning big at a casino, but instead I wound up with more reason than ever to have to go to work.

Kelly and I went. The last time we went, was on our mini-roadtrip. That time we basically just kept to the slot machines, except for my very brief and expensive trip to the poker tables. This time we spent a little more time at the other games. We played craps and that was probably my favorite. I can actually figure out the probability of dice rolls so at least with that game I get the impression I have a chance at winning. Although if I was any better at math I could probably figure out that ultimately I have very little chance at winning.

Roulette was particularly interesting. I saw very unique choices being put on the table. One well dressed lady came over and plopped a $100 chip on the chance that the ball would fall into a red slot. It didn't. A short while later a well dressed man came over and made the same bet, and again the ball fell into a black slot. I watched him walk away and saw that he joined the well dressed woman. They were together, which meant they had just spent $200 on the hope that little ball would fall into a red slot! Another guy had what must have been $100 in one dollar chips. He came over and practically just threw fists of chips onto the table. There was more reason to the madness than that, like it appeared he was drawing weird symbols with odd numbers of chips stacked on each other, but he lost every time. When he left I asked the older players if they had ever saw anything like that and they said they hadn't. That guy came back again a little later, and didn't do any better. I saw him later while I was on the slot machine. By that point Kelly and I were surprised he was still there, betting as he was. You'd never guess the economy is in a bad sort right now.

In other news last night I made oatmeal cookies. Apparently I hadn't lost enough at the casino because I decided to buy the fancy oats that come into those coffee like containers and are imported from Ireland. I realize that oats are probably oats but I am attracted to pretty packaging and couldn't resist. When I brought them home my Mom called up returning a call I had made. I wanted to know if I should use dark brown or light brown sugar. She said she usually uses light for oatmeal cookies. Then I told her about my oats and she gasped. The oats I bought were steel cut oats. They aren't like the ones with that Quaker on that tube. These ones are oddly shaped and take 30 minutes to cook! That's what pretty packaging gets you. But I decided to make the cookies anyway rather than return the oats. And they came out amazing. They taste right but have a slightly different feel to them than standard oatmeal cookies. In one of the batches I threw in half a banana. Those taste good too, but keep in mind that a little banana goes a long way in terms of its taste.

New Experiences with Food

2011-03-13T12:42:00.000-07:00

Meijer has had a lot of sales lately on some of there more interesting products. For example, Ben and Jerry's 'Peanut Brittle' was on clearance. Well I love ice-cream, and I enjoy peanut brittle so I had to try it. In the past I have found that these sorts of combinations are not always winners. For example, bacon dipped in chocolate is terrible. No matter how much you like both, I'd avoid that temptation if I were you. But the ice-cream was very good. Well it was just fine in that little dixie cup. I don't know how I'd feel about a half-gallon of it. I'm not a toppings person. Some people love to load on the toppings. Such seen in the piggie trough. But I tend to be a just a plain vanilla person.

Another thing on sale was their peanut butter not made from peanuts. This stuff always fascinates me because it's like $7.00 or more for a jar. For that price I expect it to be made from the endangered nuts of trees from Amazon Rain Forests. But instead it's made from things like soybeans and sunflower seeds. So with it on sale to be the low discounted price of only very expensive I had to pick one of those up. I chose the one made with sunflower seeds and flax. Mmmmh.

Next I was looking at juice. I was looking a jar of Papaya juice when this guy comes up with his family and pulls two jars of Coconut/Pineapple Juice off the shelf and excitedly told the rest of his family they were in for a treat. Now I am very particular about the colors of my liquids. When it comes to white colors the only liquid I want to consume is 2% milk. That's it. Not skim milk, not some weird other animal than cow like badger milk, just ordinary moo-moo milk. This product is made with coconuts, and so right away I was put off by the white color of it, but I talked to guy about it and he said it really is good so I picked one up.

When I brought it home I poured a very small swallow in a glass, closed my eyes and tried it. It really isn't too bad. I still can't drink it with my eyes open, but it tastes alright.

Sun and Water

2011-03-11T06:34:00.001-08:00

Raising a child requires a good deal of effort and care. When they first start off, they are helpless and depend on us for everything. And they are rather fragile. So if you make a small mistake like dropping the child once he could die or be permanently messed up. That's sort of a tall order. You carry children for a year or two before they can start ambling around for themselves. So for an entire two years you can't drop the child once. I couldn't prevent dropping my laptop after less than a year. True I likely wouldn't throw a small child up into the air over a concrete slab and hope I'd catch him but still we drop things all the time.

But that's just the first two years. Then they can start walking around and you have to make sure they don't walk into or off of anything. Plus they may simply fall down standing still like a drunk.

In their teenage years, things get worse. Now they are pretty good at walking, but they are driving. And new dangers include getting shot, drug overdoses, or contracting some hellish STD.

Now that's just keeping them safe. You've still got to feed, water, clothe, and shelter them. And that doesn't really ever end either. Sure they can start feeding themselves at some point, but for a few years you're still the one that has to provide them all the materials.

All of this care worries me some, and that's because I have not yet successfully managed to keep a plant alive. They all die. I've managed to kill three cacti. The only plant I still have that's alive is one that you simply have to put in a glass of water and keep sunned. And even that one halfway died before I learned you cannot simply keep it in the bathroom indefinitely as a nice display.

My most recent killing spree involved a once beautiful clematis. I bought it over the summer at a local nursery. After spending a very large deal of time looking them all over, the one I chose had many big blooms just getting ready to burst into brilliant purple flowers. It was well shaped, and looked very healthy.

Clemy was put outside on my balcony for the rest of the summer, and I was able to keep it alive. A few days after I bought it, she bloomed and looked amazing for about two or three weeks. Right before the frost came I brought her in for the winter, and put her in the best spot I could to ensure she still got sun.

And the weeks went on. I would water her once a week, and didn't mind as she turned brown. It was winter now, and I figured she was going to re-grow during spring. Well yesterday I took a look at her, and I could tell things didn't look good. She is completely brown, and when I touched her stems they snapped off being all dried out. But maybe there is hope. Maybe her roots lived and come spring she'll be good as new. Still though, I can't help thinking if I can't do something as simple as water and sun a plant, raising a child may be beyond me.

Before winter came, I took some glamour shots of Clemy. Here is one of her looking particularly well.

Slap Happy

2011-03-07T13:56:00.000-08:00

The past few weeks have had a flurry of activity for some us and a few congratulations are in order. First we need to congratulate Gurney's younger sister who has been admitted to Brown's top notch theatrics program. With the program costing a little over a hundred thousand dollars, I am sure she will be a starving artist in no time. Next we need to recognize Sarge's accomplishment of winning a major Chili Cooking Competition. Well done to both of you!

And finally we have one more congratulations to get to, and it happens to be focus of today's subject, hockey. Hockey is a fun sport. You get to ride around on skates which is always a blast. Growing up I only really got to play in gym class. And we usually played in shoes, but occasionally those of us spoiled kids who had skates, by that point roller blades, got to play a little with them on if we brought them in. Gym class is about my only experience with the sport. In fact I often have to think twice about whether or not there is an 'e' in the word 'hockey.' So I guess you could say I am fond of the sport, but never really set aside the time to pursue it or watch it.

Until this weekend, when I got to go to my first game. Kelly, my road-trip buddy, is in a league, and her last game was this weekend. I had been wanting to go to a game since October, so this was my last chance. The rink reminded me of a boxing club like the kind you see 'Rocky'. Where everything is functional, but no one puts on airs so things are dirty, covered in sweat stains, and smells. I remember gagging at one point as I accidentally breathed through my mouth and got the smell on my tongue so it was like I was tasting it.

Hockey rinks are cold if you didn't already know. I suppose that makes sense, but as I was sitting there watching the game it hit home as I saw my breath floating away. The game itself was pretty incredible. Kelly is the goalie for her team, and she did a remarkable job. I was squealing a lot every time it looked like the opposing team was going to score. But she did really good, and one time she caught the puck right out of the air. And in the end her team won 4 - 3.

After this we went out to celebrate and I got to meet her friends. They are all over the age spectrum. One is a junior in college, while another is 62! One of her friends, who wasn't on the team, made me laugh. Kelly introduced us, she said "hello", then looked at Kelly and all matter of factly said, "He's cute", then she looked right at me and said, "You're cute." I think she thought Kelly and I were dating.

So congratulations to Gurney's sister, Sarge, and Kelly!

Blue Jeans

2011-03-01T16:55:00.001-08:00

Being in a place of high fashion, I couldn't help myself and bought a pair of skinny jeans. No not like these

Maybe more like this

And this isn't to say it didn't take some convincing. Two out of two ladies agreed they look great. And ultimately if two ladies say I need to do something, like get these jeans, then I'm probably going to. But I was still conflicted about them. The problem is that they are very dark. I thought they were black until one of the ladies put them under brighter lights. And the problem with that is finding things to go with them.

One thing that I know works is white t-shirts. However, in order to pull off this style, one ought not have the body type of a twelve year old boy. Another problem is shoes. Now boots would be great. Like these

Nothing says you're a man quite like wearing alligator skin. However, I am not a dragon slayer who carries a double edged axe. I am a nerd who sits in a cubicle. So these would probably not be for me. That and they go for $425.

Finally I would like to comment on the difficulty of writing this post. I bought one single item of denim. However, while one might say, "I bought a shirt", no one says, "I bought a blue jean." Everyone says, "I bought a pair of blue jeans." So even though I bought one item, I want to refer to it in the plural. I am not the only one to wonder about this. As one poster indicates scissors are another problem. No one says, "please pass me the scissor." One could say that maybe it's because there are the two distinct legs to them, like how jeans have two legs. But this doesn't translate to bras. No one ever says, "I bought a pair of bras," and means just one. What a curious language the English language is.

California Here I Come

2011-02-20T19:50:00.000-08:00

Today's post goes best with the following. So just open it up in a new tab, and listen to it loudly, while reading on.

San Diego in February is a bit like a paradise. There are sunny skies, palm trees, green grass, and a cold day is considered something less than 60. Every where you look is a picture. And this is how I get to spend one whole week, as I teach a class on behalf of work for another company that's got a location out here. Arriving at little after 11:00 here time, I had quite a lot of time to spend exploring around. And I did, I hopped in to the rental, a bright red Sentra, and drove around. It didn't take long before I saw my first Ferrari driving right next to me. It sort of caught me off guard because I was absent mindedly looking around at the fantastic landscapes when all of a sudden I see I'm driving right next to a $250,000 car. It was pretty amusing because I don't think the guy driving it knew exactly what he was doing. He seemed to be all over the place. I couldn't tell if he was really having a hard time with it, or was just trying to figure out the best way to zip in between cars to get to a clearing where he could properly drive the way the car is meant to be handled. At any rate, I was on a mission to find my location, so I had to put that car out of my mind and pay attention. First off I tried to go to Seaport Village, but my GPS didn't take me where I thought I wanted to go, but I was happy with the general location so I kept driving around and eventually came to the Gaslamp District which was another place I wanted to check out. And since I was now already here, I figured I should get out and take a look around.

The Gaslamp District is essentially blocks and blocks of shopping and dining for the incredibly gorgeous. Once I parked, I walked towards what I felt was the beginning, and on that first block I passed a restaurant with people eating outside and I noticed a line. This struck me as odd being only 1 in the afternoon. Then I saw that many of these people were looking at yet another Ferrari parked on the street next to the restaurant. The mothers kept telling their little children not to touch it. But as I walked on by I noticed another group of people. These people were all fabulously good looking. Girls and guys alike. They were sitting outside eatting and socializing, basically looking like a scene in a catalog and here I go walking on by. In my head I apologized to them saying, "Sorry for spoiling your view." But I quickly perked up as I came to an art gallery. I decided to check it out for fun, and it turned out I had struck gold. This gallery was a gallery of Chuck Jones, Dr. Suess, and Charles Shultz. Chuck Jones did all the Loony Tunes cartoons, think Bug Bunny, and Charles Shultz did Charlie Brown. Some of the work was original. Like there was an original Dr. Suess of the Grinch. And for $14,695 it could be yours. There was an original Chuck Jones, at the low price of $20,000. They even had an original cell from Disney's 'Alice in Wonderland'. No price listed. But there were plenty of art that was affordable. I really considered buying a piece of either Bug Bunny playing the Piano or one by Dr. Seuss of a zany orchestra, to hang above my piano, but a.) I don't have wall space available to hang the picture above a piano, and b.) I don't have a piano. But it was fun to look at all those wonderful old memories hanging there on the walls.

After this I continued walking the blocks. I wound up seeing a Bently drive on by, and after a couple hours found myself going back to that art store for one last look.

But I resisted. However, on the way there I passed that restaurant again since it is right across the street. And now there was a huge line outside of it. At 3:00 on a Sunday afternoon this place had a line of about 50 people waiting to get in and it was growing. Now I'm not going to say I found these people particularly attractive. I would say they went to lengths to try and be appealing. To me it seemed gaudy. Like with everyone there in line it was just too much. As I walked back to my car, I saw more people getting into that line. One girl must have been from up North, because even though it was 57, she felt perfectly warm in yellow high heels and a bikini.

Then pulling out to leave I saw a Rolls Royce drive on by. Still I was perfectly content in my Sentra mimicing Mariah's screams to 'Fantasy'. Seemed appropriate after seeing a guy, rippling with muscle, in a cowboy hat and plaid short sleeve button down, driving a pick up blaring Taylor Swift and singing along. There are more stories to tell, but for now let us go to a true classic. California Here I Come.

Green Suggestion

2011-02-10T13:46:00.001-08:00

The owners of the building I work in had a contest offering a prize to the employee that could come up with the best "green idea" that the building could implement. For example, one co-worker had the idea that recycling bins could be placed wherever regular trash bins are placed. If the offices in the building have recycling like mine does, the nightly custodial staff will take care of it. So adding recycle bins to the rest of the office building wouldn't incur a lot of extra cost.

I too have an idea. When I use the office bathroom toilets, they take about 3 flushes to complete the job. At 1.6 gallons per flush, that means 4.8 gallons of clean water are being used to get things accomplished. If you have a hard time visualizing 4.8 gallons, take 5 gallons of milk and a cup. Pour yourself a swallow into the cup and the rest of the milk into a drain. That's how much I'm using. It's probably more clean water than many have access to in a year. By clean, I mean that if it weren't in the toilet and coming out of the faucet you could drink it.

So the office should get some of the fancy new toilets that sound like a jet engine being fired up when you flush them. They get the job done, use little water, save me time and in some cases physical labor, and are immensely satisfying to witness. I'll take my prize now.

Sleep Induced Misunderstanding

2011-02-09T09:25:00.001-08:00

My Mom slipped and fell the other day which made her sore. She is always sore, but now she was actually complaining about it, so for someone like me who will scream in pain if I accidentally scratch an itch too hard, her pain for me would probably be coma inducing. Well during the daytime I called her up to check in and we had a conversation. The next day we spoke again and she started repeating our previous conversation. So I interrupted her and said she already told me all of this yesterday. Then she said that Dad had given her a Tylenol PM that previous day and she couldn't really remember much of our conversation. Dad had given it to her I guess to keep her in bed because knowing her she'd just keep trucking away at all the various activities she does every day. Mom however isn't the sitting type and because it was daytime she was fighting it to stay awake and so she was sort of in a waking dream when I was talking to her.

After we got things figured out as to why she was repeating our last conversation she said she was annoyed that Dad had given her a Tylenol PM because it was keeping her from doing anything productive despite the pain. So I told her the following story.

Monica has a friend who is engaged. A little while back Monica's friend needed to go on about a 3 or 4 hour car trip by herself in the evening. But for reasons I don't know she was sore. I know she works out so let's say for the purposes of this story that she had worked out hard and was sore from it. She asked her fiancee if he had anything she could take to relieve the pain so she could comfortably get through her trip. He gave her a Tylenol. During the drive she got very tired and called him up. She asked what medication he had given her because she was so tired all of a sudden, and he said he gave her Tylenol PM. When she screamed at him for doing this he was confused. Apparently he didn't know Tylenol PM is supposed to help you sleep. He thought it was supposed to help you get through the night, like regular Tylenol gets you through the day.

A Well Named Joint

2011-02-08T13:24:00.000-08:00

Today is 'Anatomy Tuesday'. Anatomy is an interesting subject area, because the human body is fascinating. Think about all the really cool things it can do and the management of all the systems that is performed without you even needing to think of it. I know I'd be long dead if my body didn't keep breathing without me paying attention to it. Although breathing is sort of interesting. I can exert some control on whether or not I breathe, but other times my body takes over like when I'm asleep. So I can essentially override the controls when I want. But I can't override my heart beats. Maybe some people can, but I don't even know what muscles to flex. I suppose my heart is a muscle, but I don't know how to work it. I mean it's easy to get it going. Just thinking about asking out a random girl will make it go a mile a minute. But purposely slowing it down is something I haven't mastered yet. This is all lovely talk but it's not the subject of today's topic. Rather today's topic has to do with the elbow.

The elbow is an interesting body part. Typically I do not pay much attention to it. One reason is that I have difficulties seeing my own, and I find they aren't too attractive on others. The skin is all weird looking, and sometimes you'll find it blackened. I'm guessing this is due to poor hygiene, but maybe it's like a dog's foot which has that black hard skin that is all calloused up. I suppose it could be possible. Like maybe people with black elbows do a lot of deep thinking at their desk. I do a lot of deep sleeping at my desk with my head supported, but I also tend to be cold at my desk and therefore am wearing long sleeves.

Also the skin has no nerves. So you can play with it all you like and not hurt yourself. Sometimes I like to twist it around. Maybe this is a nervous tic, but it's fun seeing if I can do a complete revolution.

Another name for the elbow is the funny bone. Now the exact reason for this name is unknown, but there are a few good guesses. One is that because it is exposed, meaning it's not covered by muscle or bone, it can be hit easily and cause a sensation which for some reason is rather peculiar compared to messing with your other nerves. Another guess is because it is located around the Humerus, the upper arm bone, which is just like humorous. However, I think another good reason is because of the name of the elbow skin which is "wenis".

Wenis is probably the greatest name ever for anything. It is super fun to say. Say it out loud and try not to smile. Say, "I have a wenis". Hahaha.

Eyes Wide Open

2011-02-07T08:04:00.000-08:00

Last week I had to travel down South to give a talk at a conference. The talk was an hour long overview to set the stage for the rest of the conference. The conference was attended by about 80 people.

The whole affair was a little impressive. The conference room reminded me of something I'd expect to see at the United Nations. I had to sit in the center of the room at this big table that was shaped like a U. I had my own name plate, a microphone, and this really comfy big leather chair that swiveled and rocked around. For everyone not giving a talk they were given seats in the bleachers around the big U. But instead of bleachers they were really sitting in their own leather chairs, with little arm tables placed nearby. Presenters were able to stand in the mouth of the U or up at the podium.

My talk went pretty well I thought. I was able to make them laugh a little, wasn't shaking with nerves, and saw only 3 or 4 people doze off on me. But I also had the best slot, which was right after the first morning break and just before lunch. The other presentations were also well done, although they captivated me to various degrees. For example one of the speakers had the voice of a nightingale and put me right to sleep. This was rather embarrassing. Here I am, the youngest by far of anyone at the U, with the least amount of education, that no one in the conference has ever heard of before, and I'm sound asleep. During one particularly dry talk my co-worker who was sitting next to me said I had fallen asleep with my eyes open. I asked how he could be sure I was asleep. He said it was because I was slouched over, looking down, and my eyes were beet red and teared up from not blinking.

The Jealously of Scarecrows Everywhere

2011-01-28T11:18:00.000-08:00

So often today we find people separating faith and reason saying they are not compatible. But this is not true. Today is St. Thomas Aquinas' feast day, and he was the guy who wedded the common sense self-evident truths of Aristotle with the revealed truths given to us in Scripture. As our own Pope John Paul II said, "in his thinking, the demands of reason and the power of faith found the most elevated synthesis ever attained by human thought."

The language of St. Thomas' theology is incredibly dry but nevertheless page turningly interesting. He is like today's talking heads that keep us listening in just to hear what they are going to say next. It's exciting to see what St. Thomas is going to prove next, even if he does it in the most dry almost emotionless way possible. Occasionally though we are treated to some glimmers of his emotion when he speaks on things he is particularly passionate about. Also I find it very amusing reading his formal arguments on the necessity of humor.

Being a life-long student, always wanting to learn new things, but being limited with the brain I have been given, it is encouraging to know that the greatest thinker in history also had some difficulties. After all his fellow classmates called him a "dumb ox", and he had to work hard to get things to click. But eventually they did, and that ox bellowed so loud that 700 years later he is still the reference and master of philosophy and theology. And for the rest of us struggling with our own studies he left us a prayer to help us out. I particularly like the 'with charm' line at the end.

Student's Prayer by St. Thomas

Creator of all things,
true source of light and wisdom,
origin of all being,
graciously let a ray of your light penetrate
the darkness of my understanding.

Take from me the double darkness
in which I have been born,
an obscurity of sin and ignorance.

Give me a keen understanding,
a retentive memory, and
the ability to grasp things
correctly and fundamentally.

Grant me the talent
of being exact in my explanations
and the ability to express myself
with thoroughness and charm.

Point out the beginning,
direct the progress,
and help in the completion.

I ask this through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Swish

2011-01-25T05:57:00.001-08:00

Basketball is a rather fascinating sport. Here there be giants. Afterall it isn’t everyday you see a 7-foot tall man walking around. Additionally for those of us who have played basketball in our driveways it can be particularly astonishing to see professionals play it. When we watch other sports, like say water polo, or other ones that we don’t ever play, it can be hard to appreciate the skill of the professionals. But basketball is something everyone’s played. We know we are lucky to touch the strings of the net, and squeal with delight if we make a basket from the foul line.

This weekend I went to my first basketball game. Now I had been in this stadium a few times before, and everytime I was way up high, so the court looked really small. This time I was in the 2nd row. So you have the floor, then row 1 and then me. And I was at midcourt. So I was a little excited because I figured being so low, that maybe the players would seem as tall as they are in real life, and not like little ants when seen from so far above. And they were. They were really tall. The only problem was that there were several rows of floor seats. So I was still a ways back from the court, and all the people on the floor chose to stand the whole time. That meant I could not see the players very well if they were towards the side of the court closest to me. It was also a little odd. Those people on the floor probably paid very high sums to get those seats, but because of all the rows and all being on the same level (the floor), the people in the back rows would have had a terrible view with all those people in front of them. I saw two very small girls in the back row and there was no way they could see anything. So I suppose there is more to a basketball game than the game itself.

With the view I had, I think the best seats would either be slightly higher than where I was, or possibly on the other side of the court where the press was on the floor. The press stays seated so if you’re right behind them you can still see fine. But it wasn’t all bad. In fact it was very fun. I went with Monica, and we had two guys directly behind us who were quite talkative. I’m not exactly sure who they were talking to all the time, but I told Monica that it was nice having our own personal sportscasters to help us understand what was going on. In fact, despite the blocked view, they often seemed to be able to see the game better than the refs.

I wasn’t exactly sure who to root for, but decided to go with the advice set forth in the baseball song and rooted for the home team. Although half the time I was clapping for the other team. I kept forgetting I wasn’t supposed to clap for them. They kept making nice plays and good shots, and I felt like clapping. Unfortunately though, they made too many nice plays and good shots and they won the game. But Monica and I had fun. I recorded the game on TV and watched it to see if I made it to the big screen but no. At one point Monica saw us on the billboard but it was during a commercial. Maybe if we had the uncut version of the game you’d be able to see us.

Fashion Not Limited to Hair

2011-01-13T09:39:00.000-08:00

Today is tasteful Thursday, and today's subject is mullets. Like a bad comb over, we all love them. They are so incredibly ugly that most of us can't help but smile when we see them and wonder what the wearer is thinking. This isn't to say we mock the wearer, so much as we are awed by his, or, in some very sad cases, her, choice in style. Or rather we shouldn't be hair-fashionistas because we too probably have some horrible styles that we love to wear out in public. Like a rather abundant fellow who likes to wear skimpy bathing suits at the pool or beach. In fact we have such an affinity for spotting these fashions that we could make variations on the rules to "Bug I win."

The business in front, party in back, theme of the mullet occurs elsewhere making it seem as though there are anthropological tie-ins to this style. This is supported from the fact that people simply can neither be serious all the time, nor spend all day goofing off. A balance is needed. Indeed the mullet could be interpreted as a modern day yin-yang.

Many years ago I found another occurrence of the mullet. It is seen from line paper ripped out of a spiral bound notebook rather than nicely torn from the perforations. In this case the lines represent all business, but the funny tassels on the left end of the sheet are just a chaotic mess of activity. Like the haircuts however, ripped notebook paper is ugly, and should never occur.

Which brings me to a central point about mullets. While they may represent a deep need for balance, they are incredibly ugly, and unless one is purposely wearing it to bring about a smile, they should never be worn. Ever. And all variations on mullets should never occur. While dressing this morning, it was early and I was in a rush to get the day going. I knew right away that I wanted to wear a sweater with a collared shirt underneath. I also knew the jeans I had thought about wearing I wanted to save until tomorrow, and I was thinking that my slacks did not go with the colors in my sweater without making me look like I belonged in the Caribbean on a cool night. So I chose my other pair of jeans to wear instead. Then this afternoon, while washing my hands before lunch I saw myself in the mirror. And I realized my outfit is a mullet. My jeans have holes, and bold patterns on them, whereas my sweater and shirt look like they belong on a father with an established household. I saw myself in the mirror and instantly that smile which comes natural to all sights of mullets appeared and I found myself thinking what on Earth was I thinking this morning.

Baby Care

2011-01-12T10:44:00.000-08:00

There are several things about the care of babies that I do not understand. To the point where I had a dream about it the other night after I found myself thinking about during the day.

The first thing I do not understand about babies is the notion that they find rocking relaxing. When I rock back and forth I am normally in an anxious state of mind. I find that my emotions are at a level of anxiousness that has not yet brought me to my feet to pace, but I still want to be doing some movement while seated so I rock. Generally if I am to the point of rocking then I am very close to pacing. Now I suppose that the purpose of pacing and rocking must have some sort of calming effect if that is what my body instinctively does when I get anxious. Just like if I get sleepy, my body instinctively tries to go to sleep so that I will be less sleepy, here if I am anxious my body instinctively sets to rocking to become less anxious.

But when I am not anxious, then I do not like to rock. In fact I purposely try not to rock. This is because I find that rocking, in a relaxed state, makes me a little sea-sick. So rather than becoming more relaxed I end up becoming less relaxed. In fact, I rarely see people simply rocking back and forth. Even when sitting in rocking chairs, the people I see tend to just sit there. I think the rocking chairs are appealing because they offer so many different angles to seat, sort of like a one size fits all hat. So it makes me wonder if I am not alone in my displeasure of rocking. And if I am not alone, then I do not see why we should think babies enjoy it. Maybe if the baby's were anxious about something, then we could rock them. I imagine if I was a baby and saw how high I was off the ground being carried by someone I had only just met, I would probably be a little anxious, but we have no idea if they are anxious or not. Toddlers seem rather fearless but grow up to become more fearful, so maybe newborns are even more fearless than toddlers. But I think we should error on the side of caution. We do not know if the babies are anxious, but we can be pretty sure that rocking them will make them sick if it makes us sick too. So let's not rock them, unless we know they are upset like when they are crying, just so long as they didn't start crying while we were rocking them.

Now swinging is a different matter altogether. While it seems very similar to rocking, swinging is actually quite enjoyable. And maybe that's why it is okay for babies. When we hold babies and rock them back and forth, if you look at how they are positioned, the babies are really closer to the position we are in when we are swinging. We are really moving their entire body back and forth, rather than just their upper half. Maybe just moving the upper half is what makes rocking un-enjoyable. In any event, I think children should simply just be held and hugged rather than swung about from some dizzying lofty height.

The next thing I wonder about is baby clothing. So often I see babies dressed in a fashion that makes them look similar to cubs. But babies are not bears, and I see little reason to dress them as such. They can't tell us if they are hot or cold, and lack the ability to dress themselves. So often I see them in winter hats, in doors, when I am burning up as it is without a hat on. I have to wonder if they too are really hot. Maybe that's why they cry. Also babies grow rapidly, making me think they have high metabolisms, and if that's the case, then they should probably be perfectly warm if I am too. Finally I have heard all about toddlers who have an affinity for taking off their clothes and then proceeding to run around their surroundings. If they like running around naked, then I think they are perfectly warm enough. So there is no need to dress the child as an Eskimo.

Late Night Competitive Dancing

2011-01-09T13:01:00.000-08:00

Helmuth von Moltke the Elder, would support me when I say that nothing I ever plan goes according to plan. That's an obscure reference, but with a name as cool as that, I'm definitely using it. I was supposed to meet with Monica on Friday, but plans changed and we decided to meet yesterday. This time she came up to visit me for the first time. Now it my responsibility to figure out our activities. And I came up with several ideas. First I thought we could eat in and make a meal. Then we could go ice-skating, bowling, glow-in-the-dark putt-putting, salsa dancing, or play pool.

Monica told me she is not a huge meat person, so I tried to come up with a vegetarian dish. She also said she wanted to go to the mall so that she could potentially use one of the gift cards she got for Christmas. But we were also going to Mass. So now things started to become busy, and I figured the easiest but still fantastic tasting dish to make would be grilled cheese and tomato soup. I had all these ideas and meal put in my head but didn't tell her to keep her guessing.

On Saturday she came up with her sister who happened to be going to a birthday party in town. I showed Monica my place, and then we went to Church and were joined by her sister, who I met for the first time. After Mass, I got to talk briefly with her sister and then Monica and I went off to the grocery store. She was okay with my dinner idea, but decided she really wanted to cook something more involved, so we walked up and down the aisles and decided to make fajitas. She said meat is okay but that she never really craves lots of it, like steak. That could be a red flag. But the fajitas we made were amazing. Over dinner we talked, amongst other things, about how this was our third date and whether ir was supposed to end with a kiss or a hug.

After that we went to the mall, and discussed my activites. She liked all of them but I could tell she wasn't super enthused about any of them. So I said, that I would be perfectly fine just heading back to my place to play "Just Dance 2" which I purcased earlier that day. She thought that was a marvelous idea (I purchased the game because she practically told me to), and we did that. She gets very serious about her video game playing. She actually went into my bathroom to change into a short sleeve t-shirt and shorts. We had some extremely close matches, with only 5 point differences, and it was a lot of fun.

After this we played a few games on the Playstation, but I had sort of wanted to talk about our relationship and hear what she thought about it. So while loading up Pac-man I asked her about it. This sort of threw her off guard, as it's not necessarily something you just discuss, and then I explained. I said that typically when I get into a relationship, it comes naturally from an already well devleoped friendship. But in this new sort of situation I didn't really know what the protocol is and was wondering what she thought. At this point I wasn't doing to good in Pac-man and got frustrated while trying to talk to her so I turned it off and we put on Season 1 of 'Arrested Development' as background noise as we continued talking.

She too wasn't sure how to handle this situation we are in because it is new to her as well. So we decided the best route to take would be to just continuing to develop a friendship and see how things naturally progress. I was fine with this.

As we were sitting there watching TV, I mentioned to her that I found it amusing that she sat right in the middle of the couch. In that way, no matter where I sat I had to sit somewhere near her. At this she growled a bit and scooted way to the other side. At some point her sister called saying she was getting ready to come over. She asked what we were doing and I said cuddling, because at this point I was listening in on the phone call and I was shoulder to shoulder with her. She looked at me and asked, "You call this cuddling?" And I said no, but I wanted to see what her sister would say. Which was nothing. After the phone call, I decided to be sly and said, "this is what I consider cuddling" and I tried to pull her over into a sort of hugging position. But she yelled that it was extremely uncomfortable, and tried to show me her cuddling position. Her idea of cuddling was to sit side-by-side holding hands. I told her this seemed like a Victorian style of cuddling and that I felt obligated to sit with perfect posture and in fine clothes complete with leggings in this position. So we spent the next fifteen minutes or so discussing the mechanics of cuddling, and just as we got fairly comfortable her sister walked right into my apartment.

She plopped down on the couch too and we talked for the next hour. Monica's sister is extremely nice and also quite interesting. After five minutes of being there she said to me, "You're nice, I like you." I had no idea how to respond to this matter-of-fact statement so I didn't. Some time went by and she said it again. This time I said, "thank you, but you're making me feel like a character in Borat." "I like you". Early on, like right away, I started questioning her about the guy she was with all night long. Monica gave me the details, that she is friends with a guy who apparently is head over heels for her, but she thinks they're just friends. And we talked about this for awhile, when Monica interrupted and said, "You see what I mean? He gets you talking about anything." Earlier in the night, Monica said one of the things that surprised her about me, but that she likes very much is that she feels very comfortable talking about anything to me and she felt that very early on in our relationship, whereas with some people she doesn't feel that way or takes a long time to warm up to them. I think I'm just curious.

Around 12:30 they hit the road and I turned off "Arrested Development" which was stil playing and hit my bed. So the night was fun and great all around, and nearly completely made up minute by minute.

Pantry Puddles

2011-01-06T18:11:00.000-08:00

While washing the floors last weekend, I noticed a rather syrupy puddle near the corner of my pantry. I can be a little absent minded from time to time, so I figured that maybe I had spilled something sugary in the past few weeks and did not do a very good job cleaning it up, although I was rattling my brains trying to figure out what I could have possibly spilled that could have left such a large and unnoticed mess. If I had spilled something I would have looked for a mess and found the puddle. But because I wasn't looking for it, this puddle went largely unnoticed for quite some time I'm supposing, because it is in the corner of the floor and it doesn't get a lot of traffic.

A few days later I noticed the puddle was reforming, and this time I knew I had not spilled anything. Now I had looked in the pantry the first time I found the puddle to see if something had been knocked over, but everything looked in order. This time I did a closer inspection. On the floor of my pantry I have two twelve packs. One of sugar based Pepsi and the other of sugar based Mountain Dew. They are two years old, and went undrank because they were out of sight and mind. Plus I typically don't drink cans, because one can is usually more than I have in a sitting.

This time when I did my close inspection, I was pulling things out and when I lifted up the Mountain Dew carton I found the source of my puddle. Somehow the pop from these cartons had managed to escape from the cans and had formed what was now a moldy puddle that was so large it had managed to drip over the lip of the molding of my pantry. Hey, that's pretty clever. It's not every day you get to use two different definitions of mold in the same sentence. And that should highlight the uniqueness of the situation.

After I pulled out the cartons and put them in my sink, I grabbed my camera. I was excited to see the cans. I had figured that the acid of the pop had managed to eat its way through the cans, and they would be reduced to splintery aluminium. I tried the Mountain Dew and reached for a can. But it was full. And I grabbed another. It too was full. Same with the next and the next. They all seemed perfectly fine. But then I grabbed one that gave way a bit in my hand. The can's walls seemed to be like a half-deflated balloon. You can't really grab it without it conforming to your hand. This can was about half full, but I couldn't find any holes in it. I tilted it around but nothing came out.

So I moved to the Pepsi. Again the cans seemed fine for the most part. Some of them had mold on the outside but that washed off and they looked good as new. Then I grabbed one can that appeared full but was too light. I shook the can and heard a swallow's worth of pop splashing around but the can itself was firm. I then got a pot, filled it water, and submerged the can to look for air bubbles. Nothing. I then squeezed it pretty good, but still nothing. Then I decided to be brave and squeeze it very hard. Then I managed to get some air to come out of it. Apparently there were micro holes on the can and I'm guessing this is where the pop leaked out. But I couldn't see holes with my naked eye. I could just tell they were there when I rubbed my finger over them and the air stopped flowing. And apparently they are small enough that they prevent the can from being easily crushed like most cans.

I'm still not sure how the holes formed. Maybe the sugar in the pop reacted with the other ingredients and caused a fermentation to occur which released some gas which eventually managed to escape through the weakest faults of the can. And from there the liquid followed. I suppose it's plausible, but I don't really know. Well, like I said, I had grabbed my camera, but unfortunately there were no pictures worth taking because all the cans looked tip top. I took one of the bottom of the Mountain Dew carton, but just imagine a very wet and moldy carton on the bottom and you'll get the idea.

I suppose this should compel me to look around elsewhere in my pantry or frig for those old condiments or other items I haven't used in a few years and give them a chuck. But like a 7 year old showing off his mud pie, I'd rather share this amazing messy story with you than get cleaned up.

Pop Faster Than You Can Say Pop

2011-01-03T09:03:00.000-08:00

This is one of those posts were it is best read with a tune playing in the backround. So open this link in a new tab and then read on. And if it isn't long enough for you to finish reading all this, then here is another.

Staying up until midnight, is quite challenging for me. If I'm engaged in some highly enjoyable activity that requires some sort of physical movement, maybe like salsa dancing getting there can be easier, but ultimately my sugar crash is going to come. And on New Year's Eve I found myself unable to make it until midnight. Nevertheless, the daytime was full of activity.

Apparently the first date had been successful enough that Monica wanted to meet up again. We had planned to meet on Sunday where I live, but a change of her plans prevented this from happening. So we decided to meet Friday morning where she lives. Again we started at the coffee shop. This time I got a mango smoothie. There we talked for a while, and then we hopped in her car for a tour of the town. First we went out of town to a much smaller town to see a very fast soda can dispensing machine. In the middle of "down town" there are two pop machines that are very old outside of a local shop. You put in 75 cents, and press the button. But before you've even taken your finger off the button your can of pop is sitting for you. The speed of these two very old machines really is surprising. It's like flipping a light switch, and there's little noise. You look down and the can is there.

So now fueled with some more sugar we went back into Monica's town and had the tour. First I wanted to see the plots she is thinking about buying to build a house on. Right now she lives at home to save money for a house rather than renting out an apartment. Next we went to her school and saw her classroom, the library and the gym. In the gym it just so happened that the 7th grade volleyball team was finishing up their practice. We went in and all her students screamed their greetings. I could tell she is very well liked amongst her students. The students looked at me, but didn't talk to me or ask her about me. But she might get some questions when school starts later this week. I noticed two pull up bars on the wall and told her to do a pull up. She tried but mostly just hung there. One of the 7th graders tried, and also just hung there. Then she told me to do one. This was not something I wanted to do. I doubt I could even hang there. But my ego required me to show off in front of a bunch of 7th grade girls so I gave it a try. And remarkably I was able to do one. But that wasn't good enough, Monica then told me to do it one handed. And believe it or not I was able to do two of them! So that was special. I told her that she didn't realize it yet but that I'm a hunk.

Next we went downtown to see where her Dad works. He's the manager of a car dealership. The day before the dealership in this little town sold 22 cars. Monica said it's for tax purposes that people are buying them. After the dealership I noticed a gentleman's clothing store and asked if it is any good. She said it's really good, and asked if I wanted to stop. I said I was looking for a sports jacket, and we ended up going in. The guy working and Monica agreed that I am not old enough to wear a tweed sports jacket. I had really wanted one so this was a let down. The guy also said that it wouldn't be appropriate for my reason for buying it. He said I needed a black blazer. And I said, that I already have a black suit coat, so it doesn't make much sense to me to get essentially another black suit coat except with shiny big buttons. He said I needed to anyway, and pulled one off the rack. Both he and Monica said it looked fantastic. And it did, even wearing my blue jeans, so I got it. While in there we had a lot of fun walking around and seeing completely overpriced Bill Cosby sweaters and other very bold rather ugly clothing that apparently is in style. But some of the clothing was indeed very nice like Monica said.

After that we went bowling. We played two games, she won. That's all I want to say about that.

Then we went to Wal-Mart to get some food for a New Year's party she was going to later that night. She wanted pickles, because at home she had cream cheese and salami. She wanted to roll the pickles in the salami and cream cheese. This was one of her first red flags. Cream cheese is gross. Throughout the day we had been talking about her parents' reaction to her hanging out with me. We talked about visiting her home but I could tell she wasn't ready quite yet. But by the time we left Wal-Mart she wanted to still hangout so she decided to let me come over so we could roll up the pickles.

Her parents are both nice. After the pickles I got the grand tour. The house is extremely well decorated. But it is a little odd. The parents have a first floor master bedroom. The house is decorated very traditionally but very nicely, and then you walk into the master suite. The master suite is essentially a lounge down in a beach theme. There is a sofa in the bedroom and all the furniture is wicker and the colors are all pastel blues and yellows, and white. Then you go into the master bathroom, which is actually an addition to the house, and again it is a beach theme. From the bedroom you can go outside to their backyard, where they have a pool and beach house. All of this is also very well done, but going from the rest of the house to the bedroom is so jarring that I'm surprised they did it. Monica said her Mom likes the beach theme.

We went up to her bedroom. She likes to accessorize and I saw her table of accessories. On it she had four pairs of eyeglass frames with regular glass. This is apparently all the rage nowadays. She tried them all on and told me what styles they were supposed to convey. Given she wasn't dressed for any of the styles they all looked bad, but I suppose they could look good. For example, pretty much any girl is going to look good dressed as a librarian :) Anyway, when she showed me the nerd glasses I tried it on. It had very large glass in them, almost like rectangular aviators, and thick black rims. When I put them on she squealed saying, "You look sooo good. If you were walking down the street wearing them, girls would drool over you." I went and looked in the mirror and thought I looked a lot like Elvis Costello. I don't know if he's exactly what ladies like, but I like his style so I was happy.

Shortly after this we had to get going so she could get on to her party. And that was the end of date number 2. I was told the next day, that her Mom was very happy with me. I thought I could have made a better first impression. When we went to the house we were a little rushed, and I'm not very good with asking short answer questions. So I didn't know really what to say to her parents, and they had to ask me everything to keep the conversation going. But if we had more time, I would have had things to talk about. As for upcoming events, we are planning to meet this Friday, after a basket ball game she has to help out with. We are going to grab dinner, and apparently her friends are going to be with her.

If you do not know who Elvis Costello is, this is a sadness. Your parents probably would though. Here is his picture.

Scrumptious Bunch of Bite Sized Bears

2010-12-29T05:57:00.000-08:00

Chocolate Chai Latte's taste like Teddy Grahams. I made this discovery last night at a coffee shop 45 minutes from where I live. And I was there on a date.

We had been talking for a couple weeks through e-mail, and finally decided to meet up. We might have sooner if not for the holidays. We had decided to meet at the coffee shop at 6:00. As we were discussing where to meet through the e-mails, I pointed out to her that while I hate coffee it seems like coffee dates are the most traditional first dates and so we should do it anyway. She, Monica, also doesn't like coffee but suggested it because it does seem like the most comfortable way to meet someone new. So we decided to both go to a place that specializes in drinks that neither of us like. And they do have other drinks, such as the Chai Latte, which was suprisingly good, because I have never been a terribly huge fan of Teddy Grahams and didn't think my tastes would change with them in liquid form.

When we arrived we found the coffee shop closes at 7, but we decided to get some drinks anyway and I decided to eat. She already had dinner, and while I felt a little uncomfortable eating in front of a relative stranger I also had no idea when I might get another chance to eat, and on Tuesday's the coffee shop had a BBQ sandwich special which I was unable to pass up. The sandwich was very good. I suppose her company was very good too, but that sandwich really was rather good.

When we sat down, she immediately took over the conversation which made me feel a bit uncomfortable. First off, she was asking me questions at a mile a minute, most of which required lengthy responses. Trying to work on proper table manners, this meant I was unallowed to eat and talk with my mouth full as usual. So I had to let my food sit a bit while I chatted away about myself. And I really wanted to eat that sandwich. The other problem was that I don't like talking about myself for long periods of time, even if I'm asked questions about myself because I don't want to sound like I'm very self-centered. Yes I'm sensational, but we musn't brag. But eventually I was able to start asking her some questions and then things became more back and forth. And it was nice that she was talkative and wanted to ask a ton of questions right away.

At 7 we decided to go either to Steak and Shake or Buffalo Wild Wings. I chose BW3s because it seemed like an easier atmosphere for talking. It is a little louder so we would be less likely to be overheard, which is good from my standpoint, and the many TV screens give us something to look at during any potential periods of silence as we think about what to talk about next. We made some small orders and continued to chat for four hours before I felt I should get on the road.

During the night we talked about pretty much anything you could think of. From the existence of objective morality to whether or not current pop music is good for dancing. She thinks it is, and I think she is nuts. She has two friends who are also teachers that are around her age, and when she told them about me when we still e-mailing they just had to see my Profile and Facebook page. Well apparently they got jealous of her and signed up too. In fact, being a small world, I am one of theirs third highest match. However, like my friend, neither of them have pictures posted, so I haven't seen them. Anyway, while my friend gets e-mails fairly frequently for someone with no pictures, they haven't received any, and their other top matches are guys that are rather underwhelming from what I hear. I found this all rather complementing because I'm not used to causing jealously.

So in the end we spent 5 hours talking away, and I found it all to be a pleasant time. At no point did I feel like any red flags were being waved about, and she and I both want to meet up again sometime. Although I have no idea when, where, or for what.

If I have any problem it is a very small one. She reminds me both in looks and mannerisms of another girl I know. Now when I first met this girl we hit it off quickly, we became good friends, and I had wanted to try going on a few dates with her. But overtime I realized that we would not make a good couple at all. With this new girl I am trying to differentiate the two, saying she is a completely different person. Or maybe she really is very similar but the extra years have made a difference. In other words, despite some similarities I'm keeping an open mind. I suppose this could almost sound like I'm already looking for an out, but I don't think so. Say we have a great friend from our past, and this new person acts just like our friend. Then our first impression would be that this person could potentially also be a great friend. Well the same is true here, but just opposite. Now I really don't think she is so similar to this other friend of mine that it's a game killer, it's just a few of the similarities are something I've noted in the back of my head.

So there you have it. A successful first date with more to come.

Grinning Dogs

2010-12-25T19:34:00.000-08:00

The Wii is a lot of fun. However, before the Wii there was the Nintendo Entertainment System. And this Christmas it did exactly that, it entertained. Dad was in the mood to play 'Duck Hunt'. So I went downstairs and set it up for him. Our NES may be over twenty years old but it still works great. Long ago I took it apart and "fixed it". Now you do not even have to push the cartridges down to get them to play. Blowing is a thing of the past. We keep it hooked up to an old TV through my parents old Betamax VHS player. This is beneficial because apparently new TVs cannot even play Duck Hunt, because Duck Hunt relied on the technology of old TVs to work with the Zapper. I set it up, and gave Dad the Zapper. He did very well, making it to stage 10. Then Brittany gave it whirl. She didn't do very well. She kept losing, maybe getting a few ducks at random. Then I tried and made it to stage 4. This was very aggrevating.

Then Brittany decided to try again. And this time, with Dad's guidance, something clicked. Getting several perfects, she made it all the way to level 20 before she missed one duck and lost. At that point the game requires you to hit them all. She did so good that I ran up stairs to call Mom, who also came down to see her perform.

After that, and being very competitive, no one was really in the mood to play Duck Hunt anymore. So we pulled out the Track and Meet. To get back some self-esteem, I quickly played through and won the tournament mode against the computer. Then we did two player modes. That was fun.

After that I played Super Mario Brothers, and Brittany and Dad played jacks. I beat the game real quick, and kept yelling out various check points to them but they were completely absorbed. When I made it to Bowser, to my surprise I did something I had only seen on video with small Mario. Being big Mario with fire power, I ran towards him at full speed. He shot a flame at me which I slid under. Then he started with the hammers, which, while still running full speed, I jumped up and through a small gap in between them and landed right on the axe. I screamed out loud, and that finally got their attention. Dad simply said, "You beat it already?" Brittany said, "Yeah, but I saw you warp". And I threw my hands up in frustration and tried to join them in jacks, which I apparently cannot play very well. But if you'd like to see what I did, the end of this video is exactly what happened, except I was big with fire power.

After a while we were flipping through TV stations and decided to watch some American Ninja Warrior. Brittany became motivated. This is what ensued.

Coffee beans and little white sticks

2010-12-21T20:02:00.000-08:00

According to most of you, the way to meet people at a store is to come up with some way of incorporating whatever the interesting person is looking at into a conversation. Yesterday I had some practice at this. I was at a beauty store looking for some perfume for my sister for Christmas. A while back I got a catalog in the mail that had an envelop full of perfume samples. I was curious and decided to smell them and found two that I liked. I kept them handy because I thought they might make for a fun gift for my sister.

While I was at the store, I was again surprised about how expensive beauty products are. In this case, the small bottle of what I wanted to get was over $90. It was hard for me to understand because there were other similarly sized bottles of the same brand, just a different smell I guess, for much cheaper. Maybe what I was looking at used rarer ingredients, I don't know, but I wasn't feeling to happy about spending 90 dollars on a bottle of perfume, for my sister of all people, when I don't know if she is even going to like it. But then I found a small sample pack of four scents all of the same brand that included the one I wanted to get, and for much cheaper. Plus, I thought getting the sample pack would be more fun for my sister to experiment with, in case she didn't like what I wanted for her.

My only trouble was there was a girl standing right next to me who was sniffing away. And everytime she tried something she'd put it right back down and say something like, "Lord have mercy, that is nasty. Who'd want to wear something like that. emmhmmm that's gross." And so on. This worried me because I started thinking that maybe what I had chosen wasn't any good after all. I looked at her until she looked at me, and thrust my perfume of choice at her and said, "Alright, try this one and tell me what you think." "Mmmmh, I like that." "Please, be as honest with this as you were with all these others, this is supposed to be a Christmas present." "Oh no, I like this, I'd wear this. You can get this." So hopefully my sister will agree with the sniffer. And no, I did not pursue any further conversation with this very interesting lady.

Skiing Pinguins

2010-12-20T05:46:00.000-08:00

Around midnight I made it to my room. Us guys were all given our own rooms that had a bed, closet, and sink. One of the people on the retreat gave me directions on how to find it. Still I had no idea of what to expect on this retreat or where to go. I had not been given a schedule of events, and because I was so late in arriving I didn't know anyone or the layout of the land. I just knew morning prayer started around 6. It was optional but I didn't know when else or where else anything was occurring so I figured I should show up to prayer and then I would be hustled to where I supposed to be after that. Before I went to bed I noticed that while my room was very warm, there were no vents on the floor or ceiling. So I figured the heat must be coming from the hallway, which meant when I closed my door slowly but surely the room was going to get significantly colder.

I went to bed at midnight exhausted, and after rolling around for awhile I looked at the clock and saw it was 2:40. I was freezing and still hadn't slept. When I first went to bed my mind was still going a mile a minute replaying the very unsual day's odd events. But as it slowed down and I started getting sleepier so too did the temperature, and at twenty to three I got out of bed and started adding whatever sheets I could find. I had brought a big blanket and didn't want to be a burden and use the extra bedding that was provided, also I'm a little germaphobe and don't like the idea of snuggling with sheets from an unknown source with an unknown last washed date handled by an unknown person, but knew I needed sleep if I was going to function later that day. Finally I fell and stayed asleep until my alarm went off at 5:45. When I woke up that first morning and got out of bed I immediately fell down because my right leg had fallen asleep after being pressed against the hard mattress. I found the "beds" were comprised of a thin mattress put on top of a wood board. The second night though I was so physically exhausted and numb with cold from being outside for a couple hours, still with my arms full, that even with the door shut my room was still 30 or so degrees warmer than it was outside, and despite that hard mattress I slept like a rock.

On that first full morning, I went into the Church for morning prayer, again with full arms, and found only a very few others had decided to attend the optional morning prayer. I guess my fellow retreatants needed their sleep too; finals had just ended for most of them and they were probably exhausted. Being morning I finally got to start figuring out how things worked. The retreat was on the grounds of a religious community called the Brothers of Saint John. I'm not sure if you'd call it a monastery but essentially they have several buildings spread out over a few acres of land. The community is comprised of both brothers and sisters. When I say brothers think of the friar from the Robin Hood cartoon. And while I say brother, a few of them are priests, so maybe monk is the better term. I think for the most part the sisters are cloistered meaning they do get very involved with the outside world. I saw them and they always gave very big cheerful hellos, but they kept to themselves and their work. After watching them from the distance, I decided they were as industrious as the best of us, but went about their work the way a child of 5 goes about his play. And like a child playing in the snow, they seemed much too delighted about whatever it was they were doing to be bothered by the cold.

The grounds were expansive enough that walking from building to building can take some time, but small enough that driving seems a bit overkill. And since everything was covered in snow, riding a bike was out of the question. So instead the brothers and sisters would often cross-country ski from building to building. That was pretty cool to see.

So I'm in silent morning prayer, with a few of my fellows in the pews and all of the brothers kneeling on the floor in the front, when I hear a snore. One of the brothers had fallen asleep and was snoring! It was impossible for me to tell which one it was because they were all kneeling with straight postures but sure enough one of them had fallen asleep. That was very amusing.

From then on the rest of the retreat was like any standard retreat. I was able to figure out the schedule and got to meet many people. There were talks, prayer and social activities. The food was plentiful and good. My arms remained full the entire retreat, but I grew accustomed to my odd new addition. When I was saying my goodbyes on Sunday, the head priest came over, thanked me for my help, and asked if I had enjoyed what I could of the retreat. Then one of the team members said, "Father, he was one of the participants!"

But while the activities were like any other retreat it was different. These brothers who lead the retreat were amazing. To me they were like living saints. They all had a serene quality about them. When they smiled they seemed to smile with their entire body. They simply lit up whatever room they entered. They were all exceptionally bright, spoke multiple languages, hold multiple degrees, and were up to date on all the latest cultural happenings. They are Christians who live like Christ and it is catching. Paradoxically they appeared to be very rich but were materially very poor. Some of them didn't wear socks with their sandals and would have to walk through the snow that way. What little they had was functional but rarely comfortable. They didn't even have kneelers in their pews, instead they had this wooden contraption that you put behind your legs and "sit" on. You're still on your knees on the granite floor but it keeps your feet from falling asleep. But they seemed rich. I think maybe it is because in our world whenever we see people that joyful we tend to think they have it made or live cushy stress free lives. These brothers had few material possessions, and likely have a good deal of stress wondering how to make ends meet, but they are completely trusting that God will provide for them somehow and as a result, despite all their rules and harsh ways of life, they seem more free and alive than most anyone I likely will ever meet.

Building Strength

2010-12-20T05:10:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been doing more exercise than usual. Nothing much, but I could hardly do less than what I was. I've been doing 60 pushups and around 100 crunches. Not consecutively but still in one go around. Physically I like myself the way I am, but I want to be in shape and have some strength. I've been doing the pushups for awhile now, and the crunches a new addition. I also tend to walk for about an hour a day, in the form of pacing back and forth in my apartment either on the phone talking or lost in thought.

This weekend I was very grateful for the increased frequency of my workouts because I found myself unexpectedly with my arms full. Earlier in the month I had been invited to go on a retreat, and it was this past weekend. Right up until essentially the moment I left, I had been planning on simply attending the retreat, hopefully coming to peace with my various troubles, and getting to meet new people. But rather than show up empty handed only being able to take, God decided to bless me with arms so full that about the only thing I would be able to do was give.

The first curve ball came before I even left. Due to some odd circumstances I wasn't able to leave home until almost after the retreat had already started and I was 2 hours away. By the time I got there, it was dark, and I had no idea where to go. I decided since this was a retreat the best place to look for people would be in the Church. On the way in I ran into a guy who apparently works the grounds. He was extremely nice and agreed that I should wait in the Church for people to come in. I went in and found it to be dark with one lone guy sitting in the back strumming a guitar. Arms still full I decided to wait in the back of the Church for people to start coming in. And they did. Although no one stopped to talk to me about what I was supposed to do to sign in or put my stuff. Rather I sort of became an unofficial greeter. Everyone was quick to say hello, but I still couldn't figure out what to do logistically, and I hadn't seen the person who invited me and was helping work the retreat. Other than her I didn't know who else to look for because there was no way to tell the difference between participants and team members. In the end I decided to join everyone else in the Church.

At this point I was able to rest my arms for a second and take a break. I was very tired, and crabby. Being tired was my own fault for a week's worth of little sleep. I had a problem turning off Pacman at appropriate hours. But I was crabby and losing patience because no one was helping me with the exception of that nice older guy who did all he could, I had not liked showing up 2 hours late, my arms were full, and after greeting all those people I hadn't seen anyone that was making my heart beat any quicker. I realize now I shouldn't have been crabby. It wasn't their fault I was two hours late, and with the retreat fully underway, expecting someone to just drop everything was rather selfish. The reason we had all gathered in the Church was for adoration. If you are not Catholic, adoration is a time when the Eucharist is exposed and those gathered get an opportunity to sit in the presence of our Lord. Depending on your level of faith on the true presence this experience will range somewhere between completely batty to an ectasy capable of causing levitation. I would fall somewhere in between these extremes, tilting more to the right, and so it was very nice getting to simply sit quitely with Jesus and regain some semblance of calm.

So I'm in there praying when all of a sudden that lone guy in the back starts singing "Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel" while playing his guitar. This is not my favorite song. We sing it every advent and by the time the fourth week comes along I really mean the words "Oh Come Emmnauel" just so we can be through singing this terrible song. It's boring, doesn't have a great chorus, and very little rhythm. And yet when this guy sang it, it was probably one of the greatest things I had ever heard. It sounded like how I would imagine one of the saints from old would sing. Like his entire being was caught up in singing to his Love. St. Augustine said, "when you sing you pray twice." In the context of that song I realized I have never sung. And then all too soon my arms were full again and I needed to hustle out of there, leaving everyone behind.

Three Tenses

2010-12-16T19:33:00.000-08:00

How the mind reacts to before, present, and after certain situations is an interesting phenomenon. Before any given situation, in our mind we may have an idea about how we would act. And this idea may be very strong. Then when we find ourselves in that situation we may find ourselves completely unable to act in the manner we had thought we would. And finally after the situation we may immediately go back to our prior way of thinking and wonder why it was impossible for us to act in the way we thought we’d be able to.

Part of the noteworthiness of these experiences is the afterness. Practically instantaneously after we just got through a situation we found nearly impossible to act any other way, we go back to thinking in the same scenario we would act in some other way. We just completely failed to live up to how we thought we would act, and automatically think next time is going to be better. And when next time arrives, we find ourselves once again doing exactly what we did last time and not being any closer to acting how we originally thought we would. How we manage to trick ourselves into this line of thought is fascinating.

A good example is sin. Presently I am happy with my sister and love her very much. Because of that if a situation arose where she was aggravating me, I say that my love for her would easily keep me from lashing out and calling her names. So then she all too easily starts getting on my nerves, and all of a sudden it’s so bad I start feeling suffocated by her to the point where my body starts feeling physically in harm’s way, and out of a primal instinct for self-preservation I lash out and call her “fatty McCow butt”. Let’s say that was enough to get her to be quiet and the situation is over. Now immediately I will feel sorry for calling her “fatty McCow butt”, will apologize, and think to myself that in the future I will be more patient with her just I like did prior to calling her the name. This is insanity. If I were to be put in the same situation 5 minutes later, I’d assuredly call her names again. And while I was doing it, it would again be in my mind that behaving any other way, like with patient love, would be borderline impossible.

I didn’t really call her “fatty McCow butt”, that was an example to set up what did happen. I was at the grocery store buying some happiness in the way of new untried snacks. I find it a lot of fun trying out new products at the grocery store. And while I was doing this I saw three girls, one of which was particularly attractive. Attractive enough where I felt I should introduce myself. Now before this situation, I had in my head that of course this is how I would behave. It’s perfectly simple to go up to someone extend your hand and say “hello”. And in fact I have done this on many occasions, so there is even precedence to this line of thought.

But then I found myself in the situation. I knew in my head only a few simple phrases were needed. “Hello, I see you are having ladies night tonight, but would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me sometime.” I knew I was dressed up because of a Christmas party at work earlier today and likely was looking as good as I ever will be. I knew my basket was full, for once, of somewhat adult foods even if they were snacks. I knew that I typically run into girls I find attractive once or twice a year and this may very well be the last time for several months. I knew from several past experiences that the worst she’s likely to do is simply say no thanks and in less than 10 seconds the ordeal would be over and I would be in the same position I was 10 seconds before so I had nothing to lose. And yet, I simply could not bring myself to go up and talk to her. I kept making excuses on top of dealing with the nerves which were kicking in. And so I found myself walking up and down the store trying to build confidence and then I simply ran out of time. So I was a coward, didn’t ask her out, and here I am typing away. And as soon as the situation became apparent that I would not ask her out, I immediately went back to thinking that if I find myself in a similar situation that of course I would ask her out. And not only that, I would build on my lessons from this time around and do it to not be a coward, and for all those various reasons I just said above. That I would keep all these things in mind and not only do it, but do it with calm ease. And here’s the thing. Asking one girl out from a bunch is probably the best way to get a yes because even if she wanted to say no, if she is single her girl friends would probably force her to say yes.

Just watch, in a year from now I’ll be linking back to this post as a reference.

A Response

2010-12-10T16:41:00.000-08:00

This morning I decided to send a message to a girl on OKC. She has no pictures posted and her profile is 7 sentences. The only reason I found her was because she favorited me.

Clicking on the profile of someone who has favorited me but has no picture of her own is a little stressful for me. To me it's like a minature blind date. You have no idea what to expect going in, and if this person just isn't for you, you may have to deal with telling them as much because who knows if they are going to be just head-over-heels for you. Okay that's a bit much for just viewing someone's post, but if they happen to be online and they catch you looking and then they try to talking through the built in IM, it's just no fun. So I held my breath and took a peek.

Fortunately those 7 sentences weren't bad. Actually not one of them sent off any flags. I was also pleased that she had atheletic put down as her body type, and Catholic as her religion. Actually I was a little concerned about the Catholic part. On this site you can put, sort of Catholic, Catholic, or very Catholic. Well she only had 'Catholic' and I didn't want a cafeteria Catholic. But I wasn't about to let this potential problem keep me from investigating further.

So this morning I sent her an e-mail. Based on those 7 sentences and little quick factoid section, I asked her a bunch of questions. This was challenging because I still don't know exactly how to start talking to someone. I basically told her, "I have no idea how to start talking to you, but I hear the way is to ask questions. So here a bunch of questions." And later this afternoon she responded.

This time she wrote much more than 7 sentences. She was pleasant too. The only problem was she didn't attach any pictures. I didn't ask her to in my first message. And I didn't ask her to in my reponse to her response either. Hopefully she will without me asking her. I suppose whether or not she does, the whole mystery is sort fun.

Own More Giraffes

2010-12-06T13:45:00.000-08:00

There is a foggy dream of a memory I have one when I just a wee lad, probably around 2 or 3. My Mom was pulling out of the driveway and I was sitting in the back seat. As we pulled out I noticed a rather large man standing on the sidewalk, and said, "That's a fat man." My Mom then said I shouldn't call him fat because it wasn't nice. And I remember being very confused. After all he was fat and I didn't understand how saying what he was could be not nice. I guess at that point in my life I didn't know yet that sometimes the truth can hurt, even if it is said in the most innocent setting possible. At that time I just filed it away as something I was supposed to do, and only later came to realize why.

The other day I received an e-mail from work with a bunch of company news articles. One of the articles, about web technology, had the expression 'OMG' in the title. I am not a fan of this phrase, because of what it represents. Now some people will say it can mean 'oh my gosh' but that was not the original intent of the abbreviation, and I do not think this alternative meaning has become so prevalent that 'OMG' can now be equated with it. In general it is a pet peeve of mine when I hear anyone who thinks highly of the 10 commandments using this expression. In addition to being offensive to God, I find it shows a strong lack of self-control and a simple minded attitude that the person saying it couldn't think of something more creative or humourous (I know that first 'u' doesn't belong but I like it). For example, if I must have a loud outburst of frustration, I am very fond of 'shucks' and 'rats'.

I wasn't offended by the abbreviation because I am sure the author simply did not realize what he was doing, but after some thought I decided to send him an e-mail. I do not like the phrase, and strongly oppose websites that use it to link to current popular events like celebrity news. We live in a desensitized enough world as it is.
My e-mail basically said, that while I understood the context of the abbreviation and it's current use in popular culture, many Christians and people from other religious affiliations could find it offensive. Much like my Mom essentially I said, don't say that because it could be rather offensive. Shortly later I received an e-mail back from the author thanking me for the e-mail. He understood my point, and promptly removed the abbreviation from the title of the article. This was all before 8:00 that morning. And that was that. By the time my supervisor came in the entire e-mail and story had been changed and he never even knew about it until I told him what I had done.

Today we got another e-mail from the company with news articles. At the bottom of the e-mail there was a statement saying that several employees were offended by the abbreviation and found it was inappropriate for a business environment. The editors of the newsletter agreed, apologized for not realizing this sooner, and said it wouldn't happen again. I find it interesting that even though the e-mail was changed very early in the day several people had already seen the original and posted complaints. So I guess I wasn't alone.

Tommy

2010-12-02T06:34:00.001-08:00

News coming from the Wikileaks has certainly made for some interesting viewing. Also interesting is one of the government's responses to it. The government has said that the information on the WikiLeaks web site is potentially classified, and many federal agencies, including the White House and the Department of Defense, have directed military, federal employees and contractor personnel not to access the WikiLeaks web site.

In addition, sanctions can be placed against contractor employees who hold a government security clearance who visit WikiLeaks. One of the government memorandums regarding WikiLeaks, said accessing the site could "provide justification for local security officials to immediately remove, suspend 'for cause' all security clearances and accesses." The government takes the position that classified material is not declassified by unauthorized release.

As far as the rationale goes, this sounds reasonable. However, it also seems a bit impossible. Several major news outlets have gotten their hands on this information and are reporting it. So according to this policy are we now supposed to avert our eyes and cover our ears whenever we see or hear the leaks being presented? Or maybe if a contractor is amongst friends who are talking about it, is he supposed to say, “excuse me but could you please change the subject, I’m not allowed to participate in this conversation because the government could pull my contract if it finds out.”?

All of this has reminded me that today is tasteful Thursday. Many years ago the Who made a famous rock opera called Tommy. The opera is about the deaf, dumb and blind kid who became a famous "pinball wizard". At the beginning of the opera when Tommy is still just a small child can see, hear and talk, but during his childhood he witnesses a tragedy and loses those senses when his parents find out it.

As the lyrics go to "You Didn't Hear It"
You didn't hear it
You didn't see it.
You won't say nothing to no one
ever in your life.

Air time

2010-11-30T05:15:00.000-08:00

AM talk radio can be entertaining. While driving out of Cincinnati the other day with my Dad, we were listening to a cooking themed show. The poor hostess kept telling people to call in with Thanksgiving leftover ideas and turkey sandwich recipes but instead all but one caller had a question to ask about how to prepare one dish or another.

This seemed as good as any opportunity to find out more about cheese and apple pie. So I gave her a call. I had never called a radio show before where I was going to be on the air. It was a bit odd. The producer answered the call and asked which show I wanted to be on. Then I was put on hold, but while on hold I could hear the program. Because of that I didn’t know if it was a two way street. I’m guessing they mute my line so that while I can hear the program I cannot contribute to it until they ask for me to speak up. But I wasn’t sure, so I had Dad be very quiet and had the radio turned down really low.

The hostess, Marilyn, called on me fairly quick. Dad thinks it was because I was the only guy we had heard call in, and they wanted a bit of diversity. Whatever the reason, I was glad to go so soon. I asked her in what way does cheese enhance the flavor of apple pie. Her answer was a little roundabout but this may have been for the other listeners’ benefit. First she said that cheese and apple pie is a North Eastern tradition. The way she knows of to make it is to first make the apple pie, and then, when it is ready to be served, add a thin slice of cheddar cheese on top, in place of ice-cream. Then warm it up for a little bit to get the cheese soft. She said she’s had it this way and that while it is good she prefers ice-cream on top. The cheese brings about a salty flavor and some people like the sweet and salty combination.

As I mentioned, not many people were talking about what she wanted to, but over the next hour or so there were two other people who called in wanting to comment on the cheese and apple pie combination. I created quite a dialog. The first lady said that her husband made her call to say that his grandmother always prepared it this way and that she used the saying, “An apple pie without the cheese is like a kiss without the squeeze.” Marilyn hadn’t heard that before and liked it. The next lady who called wanted to discuss her way of preparing it. Unfortunately, Dad and I were talking too loud at the time and only caught the tail end of it. But essentially the lady said that she bakes the apple pie with the cheese at the same time.

Between this blog and my radio appearance, I think a national movement may be started here.

Mr. Wiley's Winning Technique

2010-11-27T19:48:00.001-08:00

The onset of colder weather and the looming Christmas holiday, could potentially make single girls a little less picky. During these times, single ladies may be looking for both a warm body, and somebody more special than usual to celebrate our Lord's birth. This is my theory, because I have had significantly more traffic than usual these past couple months on the two dating sites I'm signed up to. And on one of them, I basically have page that I plan on only changing if I find somebody I want to talk to first. With the exception of one, none of these girls have really been what I'm looking for, and the one was a bit too young. Actually I was surprised I hadn't seen her before, when I realized the reason being because I filter out girls that young.

I suppose this odd winter phenomenon could work both ways too. However, this is not the case with me because if it were then I would have responded to any of those numerous e-mails I received. Nevertheless, since I am certainly not attracting or winning any dates with my current approach, maybe it is time to try an alternative method.

Meet Bob Wiley. Like me, Bob can only muster a few words out from his vocabulary when he finds someone he would like to meet. This is a problem I have long sought a solution too. Observe the repetitious manner in which Bob uses only a few words. This is a simple technique and I think that with a little practice on some strangers at the grocery store I too can become quite deft with just a few words.

Momentary Lapse of Reason

2010-11-24T05:41:00.001-08:00

How fitting that tomorrow is Tasteful Thursday. Being that tomorrow is Thanksgiving, today seemed as good a time as any for me to relate to you one personal story of thanks.

Yesterday, while walking into work, I had both hands filled. My left hand was holding my lunch and my right arm was holding my laptop which was in this satchel I have that has a belt that hangs from my shoulder. While walking, I noticed that the opening to the satchel was facing me. That's the bumpy side of it, and I prefer to have it facing out so that the flat side is up against me. But since my left hand was full, switching it around with one hand seemed to challenging to navigate. And then I had an idea. I could simply throw the satchel up into the air, and while it was up there I could grab the belt from behind and this would turn the satchel around.

Well I did this. It fell right to the concrete ground below, making what would otherwise be a very satisfying thud. Actually, I didn't even really throw it up so good. The computer is a little heavy and it's awkward trying to throw it up it into the air by the belt. From a distance I imagine it would have looked like I took it off my shoulder and threw it directly onto the ground with a little flourish.

When I got the computer into the office, it didn't boot up. Then with the help of a co-worker I realized that one of the two parts that connects the monitor to the computer looked funny. So I poked at it and found it had been dislodged and clipped back into place. And then my computer turned on. The problem now was that moving the monitor caused funny behavior. Some positions put it into hibernate mode, and other positions would turn the entire computer off or on.

I took it into the computer store and they said it would cost me at a minimum $85 and take 2 to 6 weeks. That was no good so I took it back home. It still worked, I just couldn't move the monitor. Well last night I got back on it, and found that it worked pretty good. I was able to adjust the monitor pretty well and it didn't once abruptly turn off on me for the couple hours it was on. So I'm thankful that God had mercy on this brainless wonder.

Digging For the Roots

2010-11-19T16:47:00.000-08:00

My sister decided to go to the dentist the other day. When I went after so many years, I was told I had 6 cavities. Despite the impressiveness of my diagnosis, when she went after so long she was told she had several cavities and needed a root canal. The poor thing just cannot seem to find good health.

On Wednesday she had her appointment. Mom stayed the night on Tuesday at her place so she could be with Brittany for the "operation". "Operation" is the term Brittany used to describe the root canal to me. My Mom however was in the room when my sister said this to me, and disagreed that this was an "operation". She didn't have to say anything else, we all knew this meant, "let me tell you about some 'operations'." And she's right, what has been done to my Mom makes root canals seem about on the level of clipping your fingernails.

Brittany got all drugged up the night before, and I gave her a call pretty late because I wanted to talk to her while she was high as a kite. But this time the medication she took didn't have any hallucinatory effects. I think she's had her wisdom teeth out and for that she did have some rather strong meds. Apparently, after the surgery Mom found her in her living room having a two-way conversation with one of her plants.

Despite the fun attitude I was taking to this, I was a nice brother and wished her a very successful and pain free "operation". Unfortunately this was not to be. During the operation Mom, who was in the waiting room, started hearing some commotion. Then someone came out for her. One of Brittany's kidneys was flaring up. Even though it's been over a year, Brittany still has 3 kidney stones, and at the moment she thought one was about to pass. They did everything they could to make her comfortable but ultimately they just had to wait until the pain subsided. The entire "operation" took 5 hours. At one point someone came and offered my Mom juice and cookies. Brittany too was given some snacks.

The next day I gave Brittany a call and found her to be her regular self. She said that her face was rather swollen though, and said it looked like she gained two pounds. However, her natural chubby cheeks do to a marvelous job hiding the majority of the swelling.

Not Like Mom Makes

2010-11-15T16:04:00.000-08:00

"An apple pie with the cheese, is like a kiss without the squeeze." This disturbing 19th century saying has been the subject of many discussions of late. A few weeks back I made an apple pie, and came across this frightful quote. Asking around I found a few people had heard of the notion but none that had actually tried it. Wanting to see if I could make a "traditional" pie I did not add the cheese. But still puzzled by the idea of adding cheese to apple pie, this Thursday past I decided to make another one. Turns out I had extra apples and crust so instead of potentially ruining a whole pie I decided to make a small apple fritter type dish and add the cheese. Also I made sure to cut the apples into smaller widths this time around. See, the last time I made my pie, while the crust came out absolutely amazing, I didn't know how to cut the apples into proper sizes. I thought they should be nice and varied in size and shape, and at least a good bite. So they were rather thick, and did not cook through very well. Fortunately, I have a good group of friends who promptly informed me of this terrible blunder and how I can make sure to not let this surprising lack of common sense mistake ever happen again.

While I'm on a bit of a tangent, now might be a good time for another tangent. I asked a friend of mine who like to cook what her impressions are of adding cheese to apple pie. She said that the cheese has many similar properties to meat, and that adding it to the pie should make it more savory.

Savory:
1. Appetizing to the taste or smell: a savory stew.
2. Piquant, pungent, or salty to the taste; not sweet.
3. Morally respectable; inoffensive.

As for how the pie turned out, I don’t know. Since I had the apple fritter type dish I didn’t really need the pie so I gave it to a friend who was having his wife come in this past weekend on military leave. The apple fritter wasn’t something to present to others. This time around I used Granny Smiths and Pink Ladies. Unlike the Granny Smiths the Pink Ladies are very juicy. So juicy that I thought I could just pour some flour on top of them and it would get absorbed during the baking. This did not happen and instead I just got warmer flour out of the oven. I also added the sharp cheddar. I felt I added quite a bit of the cheddar but I couldn’t taste it when I tried the fritter. I added a lot more for one of my serving and it was too much. Or maybe it was the appropriate amount but I didn’t like it.

But because I didn’t really know what I was doing I felt my apple fritter could only be classified as inconclusive. In town there is a restaurant that makes a grilled cheese sandwich that has Granny Smith apples in it. So yesterday I decided to go there and get one to go.

While I was there I got to talking to the head clerk who happens to be French. After placing my order I asked him if he had ever heard of apple pie being served with cheese. He was so distraught by the notion that he almost seemed offended by the question. “Absolutely not! Never! No, there are many varieties of apple pie, I know, I’ve had them. No!” “Sir, (please spare my life), I have only heard of this recipe I’m not actually promoting it.” “If anyone tells you that apple pie has cheese then you bring him here and I will set them right.” “Well, the reason I’m here is because you serve grilled cheese with apples. So if you make grilled cheese with apples, doesn’t it make sense to make apple pie with cheese?” “No. Absolutely not. We make it that way because we think after many tries that it tastes the best. But you don’t put cheese in apple pie. There are many types of apple pie. . .” He then proceeded to tell me all about them. And I learned that the French stereotype about their attitudes on food is correct. He walked me out the door continuing to talk without taking a breath (much like this sentence) that you do not add cheese to apple pie, and that it must be a Great Britain invention, but their food is so awful that it doesn’t mean anything, and I should bring anyone who says otherwise to him. This Frenchmen was so passionate about this that I think he found adding cheese to apple pie to be the exact opposite of the 3rd definition.

I took the grilled cheese home, and was ready to eat but it was a big event. My parents, who happened to have called me while I ordering it, decided they wanted to hear my live impressions. And my impressions were that it was fantastic. It was delicious. My only problem was that it was a little sweet, which made it more like a tasty large snack to me rather than a meal. I think it’s because in addition to the apple slices they also add a fig spread which added a good bit of sugar. But yes, overall the grilled cheese was amazing, and I don't even like figs. And the apples only made it better. So maybe an apple pie with cheese could be very good, if only I knew how to make it better.

Finally, in case you are curious, here are the ingredients used to make the grilled cheese that I had: Danish Fontina and Fiscalini cheddar cheese, Granny Smith apples and fig jam on grilled Challah.

Mixing Generations

2010-11-13T08:31:00.001-08:00

In town there is a place for salsa dancing that is meant for beginners. Despite their being a large showing and earlier hours I rarely go. This is because I am not a very smart person. I decided to go last night because I knew a few of the other students in the class I'm taking were going to be there too and it would make it really easy to ask someone to dance. I also went because there was one girl in the class I took an interest to, and I made sure to be very charming to her friends as a way to get closer to her.

So I went and sure enough the five of them were there. Right away I asked one of the girls, Annie, to dance and struck up a conversation with her. She lives in town and has a full time job as an English teacher as a second language to international students. This was rather interesting to me. First I wanted to know if she works primarily with one ethnicity or several. She said she works with students from all over the world. So then I asked if she speaks any other languages and she said German and a little sign language. That surprised me a little bit. I know from movies that when you take a foreign language at something like a community college usually they take the immersion approach where the teacher only speaks in that language, but it sounds so difficult to me. I realize this is how babies learn but I still think it sounds hard.

I also found out that her sister, who was also there, is best friends with the girl I was interested in. Hopefully you're catching the past tense in these references. Eventually I danced with Annie's friend Rachel. Now Rachel I believe is in public accounting. She mentioned she started dancing on and off since her first year of grad school in 2001. So Rachel is a few years older than me. She then said Annie's sister and her friend were still in school at a nearby smaller town and were 19. Come again? 19? Well that just won't do at all.

But at least the dancing part was fun. I got to practice all the moves we learned in class and had some nice people to do it with.

Cuban Cigars of Pop

2010-11-10T05:26:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I found myself in a bit of a surreal situation. I was traveling to a little town out in the country that I had not been to before. This little town which essentially consists of one main street with some houses built around it, has a children's consignment store where people come and sell off the clothing their children either no longer fit in or no longer want. And in this consignment store there is a soda shop that sells glass bottles of soda. The town is only a short drive away so I decided to go and check it out.

On the way I passed by two interesting landmarks. The first was a sign that pointed towards a State Park. At this point something jogged my memories. I think maybe five or six years ago I had been at that State Park. I remember it for two reasons, the good company and the water snake I saw which I didn't like very much at all. Being in a situation where you think you've been somewhere but aren't exactly sure is always interesting. It takes on one of those odd qualities where it feels familiar but you aren't entirely sure why. Maybe a bit like the twist in 'The Shining'. Well I wasn't here to start wielding an axe, I was on a mission for fancy pops so I kept driving on.

As I approached the town I passed by what only could be described as a shack made out of metal rather than wood. The building was essentially a rectangle with a roof, with a gravel 5 car parking lot, with no driveway, right off the 55 MPH road. It had a sign that said 'Fine Quality Meats'. Driving by I noticed there was one car in the parking lot, and I figured despite the appearance of the building maybe it actually is open for business. Now don't get me wrong here, I like the old run down restaurants. The Mom and Pop restaurants that only care about how your food tastes. It's just that this place looked so run down that had there been no cars there I would have thought it was long out of business.

Driving on I found my pop shop. And sure enough, the clerk had pops covering an entire side of the shop. Many I recognized either from local grocery stores or Friar Tucks but there were several I had never seen before. For example, there was one called Mary Jane which is made from passionflower. I bought one but haven't tried it yet. So I spent a good bit of time walking up and down and looking around. I noticed I was the only one in the store, but it was also only 3:00 so I am hoping the business picks up at other hours.

I ended up with 6 bottles and asked the clerk if she ever got Pepsi products. She said she's tried but it's not easy. She thinks there are laws in effect that prevent it from being shipped from Mexico where it is glass bottled to here in the states. I'm not too sure about that though. I know, for example, that there is a gas station in North Carolina that sells Mountain Dew in glass bottles. She thinks the people selling it must have connections. It makes me laugh though, I had no idea a glass bottle of Pepsi could create such a fuss.

Leaving the little town I drove by that shack again. This time, ten minutes later, their little parking lot was nearly full with people walking in with empty coolers. So I had to do a U-ie and stop on in. The place is how you're probably imagining it. A few refrigerators, a big wooden table, and a guy wearing an apron that was white but now is red. I picked up 2 lbs of shredded BBQ pork and a pound of ground round. The BBQ pork was $7, and the beef was about $2.50. I was very happy with the prices. The butcher said all the meat comes from local farmers, and so I was doubly happy to be directly supporting them. When I got home I tried the BBQ pork. It was great.

The question remains however, soda, pop, or soda pop, which is it? I like pop and grew up with pop. As kids there was one guy who said soda, and it really irked me. Everyone else was saying pop, and I kept thinking he was only saying soda in order to sound more like a grown up and thereby more like a leader in order to have some sway over the rest of us. Where I'm at now it's sort of a mixed bag but I think most people tend towards soda. I use soda pop when I'm feeling especially childish or purposely want to make myself sound less adult like. It has it's uses, but generally I stick with soda or pop.

Para bailar la bamba

2010-11-08T07:45:00.000-08:00

'La Bamba' is not a song I generally listen to when it is on the radio. Maybe it's because I couldn't understand the words, or didn't care much for the beat, but it's never been one of my favorites. But today I find it stuck in my head. I like Cal Tjader's version, and you should go here on a separate tab and click play on one of the available titles and read on while it's playing.

Around 11:30 this Friday I went out salsa dancing. It's a disgusting time of night to be doing anything but unfortunately all I have to work with. But this time there was a girl from my current set of classes, and we danced for about and hour and a half. It was a mixed bag. She definitely wanted to dance and had no problem saying as much. The problem was I was having troubles, as always, remembering the moves from class. That and there was this really good guy, possibly an instructor, there who would ask her to dance occasionally. And she looked incredible, dance wise I mean, which made it difficult for me because here she goes with this pro and now she's got to come back down to my level again. Now, she is technically probably around my level, after all we are in the same class, but she can follow a lead and that made all the difference between dancing with me and dancing with the pro.

Close to 1 I started getting a vibe that she was either no longer having as good a time or possibly getting sleepy and was ready to quit. So I took that as my time to say goodnight. Here I had a bit of a dilemma. It was 1 and I didn't think her friends were there anymore. So I thought maybe I should see if she wanted me to walk her to her car, assuming she would be leaving too. But she stuck me as a bit of an independent who was already grumpy about something, and I didn't want to come off as trying to be more than a social aquaintance, so I decided against it. Now I wish I had anyway because it was simply the right thing to do. Well we have our last class this Wednesday so I'll see her then and get a new reading on her.

I noticed that around 12:30 the bar started filling up. The girl I was dancing with said the music had started at 9:30. I just do not understand why people have to start things so late in the day. 9:30 isn't too bad, but it only works if you have a partner because no one else is there then. I guess this or a wedding (traditionally the Bamba is a wedding dance between the new husband and wife) is what is needed "para bailar la bamba"

Every Vote Counts

2010-11-05T17:40:00.000-07:00

Last week I won the Halloween Costume Contest where I work. There were 19 votes cast for 5 costumes and I received 13 of them. Yay!

This week we had a chili contest. I have never entered before, but I was sort of in the mood for chili and figured this was as good an excuse to make it as any, so I gave it a try. Making chili is a bit of an art. First off you have to decide which kind you want. For example, you could go real crazy and make an all white chili with chicken and white beans. But I wanted to go more traditional with just beef and red beans.

There are many kinds of beef at the grocery store. There's ground round, chuck, sirloin, and extra lean. I went with ground chuck. And as for the beans I made it with two types, light red kidney beans and red chili beans.

Making it wasn't too bad, as I had a recipe both written down and somethings I wanted to try in my head. It isn't too hard following a recipe all you have to do is simply what your told. Add a can of tomatoes, add a can of beans, add 3-4 teaspoons of salt, add an onion. Uh-oh. That was 3/4 a teaspoon of salt. I had accidentally misread the amount of salt. I realized my mistake right away and tried my best to scoop it all out, but the damage was done. After I cooked it all up and tried it, the salty taste was definitely present. Still it wasn't inedible and I rather liked the after taste, despite it not being like the way Mom makes it, so I decided to enter it in the competition anyway.

There were three other entries in the competition. Two of them I did not care for. Others may have but they weren't for me. But the fourth one was quite good. In fact it tasted like Mom's. And now I had a problem, because I didn't think it would be right to vote for mine if I preferred anothers. So I went back up and got another helping of each. But I couldn't make up my mind. I really did like mine, but I couldn't decide if I liked it more. Then I started doing small samples of each, like at an ice-cream deli. Hmmm, I've never heard of deli being used with ice-cream before but I like it. In the end I decided that mine was a bit too rich for me and that I would only want it in small quantities, whereas the competition was timeless. So I voted for it.

Then the votes were counted. Since I didn't vote for mine, I didn't think I was going to get very many. But then they called out a vote for it, then another, and another, and another. I got four votes in total. And those other two I didn't care for trailed me. So it was between me and the one I vote for. I could barely stand the anticipation of finding out. But soon enough the competition received it's fifth vote and finally it's sixth. I had lost. But then I did a little math. If I had voted for myself and not the winner then he would have only gotten 5 votes. And I would have gotten 5 votes. And we would have tied for first!

So let this be a lesson to us all. Every vote counts.

That's Brain Damage

2010-10-30T19:54:00.000-07:00

When I made it home this weekend, my parents sat me down for lunch. After lunch Dad said get your grungies on we need to go to the river and get some rocks. So Dad, Mom, and I hopped in the van and drove down to the river. They wanted to use the river rocks to make a walkway for their house. I used to go down to this river with my buddies as teenagers. We would drive down and park on the side of the road. As we went today we found that all the old parking spots were inaccessible and signs were up all over the place saying 'No Tresspassing'. So we kept driving and finally we came across a patch that may not have been exactly legal but there were no signs saying as much.

Dad and I hauled in some massive rocks. He thinks they weighed 30 pounds but I think they were much heavier. I can dumbell 30 pounds, and I could barely lift these. But it could be that they were just very awkward to grip because they were so large.
After we got these rocks, Mom looked at the clock which said 3:00 and said we could still take these down to the house today. The house they are referring to is an hour and a half away.

We stopped at home base to get some drinks and magazines and then got back on the road. Finally around 7:30 we make it back into town, and they decide to stop at Menards for wood so Dad can make shelves. And at 8:30 we made it back home. So today was a bit of a long day if you keep in mind I made a 5 hour drive to get to them. During this time earlier today when we stopped at home for the drinks and magazines I looked at my hands. They were covered in mud. Making a pretend fuss about it I said, "Mom, I have 6 years of higher education. As a result, I have paid my dues and should not ever have hands like these." "Your zipper is down, Mr. 6 years."

Jest

2010-10-29T05:46:00.000-07:00

In the first grade a lot of older kids noticed I had a winning smile and they started calling me "Joker". I think I knew who they were referring to back then, but I didn't like it, not one bit. They kept wanting me to smile for them, and I didn't like that attention. Afterall, having a bunch of people always looking at you and then calling you names based on your looks can be upsetting.

Eventually my friends picked up on it, and it sort of stuck. I thought that as I grew if my head got bigger then my smile would get smaller. Nope. Fortunately the name never really stuck and it would only be brought out on occasion. So for my senior year of high school I decided to go as Jack Nicholsons Joker. I remember the face paint. It was a pain because it tended to get on whatever it touched. In particular the color of my shirt. And I had wondered how the real character in the movie managed to keep it off his clothes. Well he didn't. If you look at pictures of him you'll see there actually is face paint on the collar of his shirts.

The other problem with the costume is the green hair. Back then I used a spray can that temporarily dyed hair green. The problem was that it got on my scalp, and I couldn't get it off very well. A short time after that I had to visit Ohio Northern as a possible college choice, and sure enough my green head came out all too clear under the bright sunny sky.

This year I decided to go as Heath Ledger's Joker, with those lessons in mind. I sprayed my hand and then smeared it through my hair to keep the dye off my scalp. And I used much less face paint. So without further ado here are the pictures.

Update, later today: After work I played some more. This should really be a Tasteful Thursday article. I've already given out two lessons on applying the makeup above and now I have more to say. I've decided the trick to the makeup is to keep it thin enough so the bare skin on your wrinkles can show through, and to be very generous with the black. Mixing the colors works best. Having three distinct colors looks too correct. But you want them to have their textures. If you smear them on then you'll get a smooth appearance and it will look too artificial and flat. The problem is trying to mix the colors and not get the smeared look. And by mixing them I don't mean white and black make gray. I mean mixing them such that you have white and black on top of each other without combining into a new shade much like spray paint art. I don't think I have the proper tools to pull that off, so I have to try different techniques with my fingers. Even with the new result I decided afterwards that my lips were still too solid red. They needed more black. But that's okay. Today was a trial run. This Sunday I am traveling to Columbus to celebrate little Stevie's wedding. Costumes are supposed to be worn at the reception. I'm hoping I've learned enough today to make a good appearance on Sunday.

Getting the makeup off was rather difficult. After my first attempt I looked in the mirror and thought my eyes looked a bit dark. So I rescrubbed them really hard. Finally I gave up when it just looked like I was wearing mascara. I'm going to try salsa dancing tonight, so hopefully the dark lighting will cover up the fact that I'm wearing makeup. Or maybe I'll look a bit more mysterious. Girls supposedly like dark and mysterious. I've also noticed that when I rub my forehead it feels like the makeup is still there. Maybe wearing all the foundation has improved my skin quality. Here's the new look.

Homeward Bound

2010-10-28T17:28:00.000-07:00

That previous day was probably the climax of the trip. But there was still plenty of adventures ahead. The next day was our last full day in Kiawah and we made the most of it by staying at the ocean as long as possible, boogie boarding, kite-flying, tennis playing, and more Frisbee throwing. Towards the end of the day we went souvenir shopping at the stores near the island. These stores mostly cater to yuppies but there are a few of the strictly touristy places too. We went into a shoe store thinking they might have some flip flops on clearance because last year when I went they did. I went to the back of the store to look around and a few seconds later I hear Kelly shout all the way from the front of the store, “These flip flops are over one hundred dollars!” We quickly left that store, with her repeating herself just in case someone missed what she said the first time. Next we proceeded to the clothing store. Even before we in I knew this would cause problems for her, so I asked her to please refrain from commenting on the prices. We went in and immediately I remembered why I never get anything from there. While the clothes are very nice, they are all much too Southernly. They simply wouldn’t look right being worn in farm country. So I went looking for Kelly who I found over in the “sale” department. She said not too quietly, “I need to get out of here, now.” And as we were walking out she said, “If I see anyone leaving from here with a bag I’m hitting them in the face.” Well at least she didn’t directly mention the prices. I was very proud of her.

Kelly is a female of elegance, poise, and high fashion.

But we did pick up some souvenirs from the touristy store for our friends and family, which we added to the ones we picked up the day before when we took a brief stop in downtown Charleston. There we found a library that was throwing out old books. I grabbed a bunch because they had sophisticated sounding titles like, “The Gettysburg Review” and “Pembroke Magazine”. She grabbed some too because nothing is too good for her friends.

The trip home the next day was the first time we came to fighting. We had decided to drive up through the Smokey Mountains, and this time we were going to find a proper camping site. Well we drove right through them alright but never found a good place to camp. All the campsites were full. So we kept driving and driving. During this time we had our usual blast. We got to drive through Maggie’s Valley which was way up high in the mountains despite its valley name, fought over the music, and saw some amazing sites. Eventually we passed right through the Smokey Mountain National Park and came to Gatlinburg. Kelly, who likes all things shiny, immediately needed to pull over, and we wound up going to Ripley’s Aquarium. This was actually really well done, and I felt was in some ways even better than the Charleston Aquarium. One of the neat parts for me was seeing an Amish family walk around. They were very nice and talkative. I noticed the guy who was taking them around too. He was also very friendly but when he talked to me, I got the distinct impression he hadn’t gone beyond 8th grade. I talked to Kelly about this. That I had never met someone that old before be so simple minded. She said being a social worker it is an everyday occurrence for her. But for me, probably the majority of people I talk to have at least a Masters. So it was quite an experience, and we agreed that while he sounded like he had very little education he was probably an expert at farming or some other craft of which I have absolutely no understanding.

It was already dark when we found the aquarium and by the time we left it was dark and late. Kelly had been driving and she was clearly getting tired. We kept driving and found more campsites but they were ones that were meant for trailers. A few hours ago she didn’t want to even consider these, but now she did. I didn’t want to though because her reasons for not wanting to a few hours ago hadn’t changed now. We both didn’t like the idea of people looking in on us in the car as we tried to sleep. We had to sleep in the car because there were no tent sites and we didn’t have a trailer. So we kept driving, and things were getting quieter. No more talking and no more music. Finally she said I’m pulling over at the next rest area. I didn’t like this idea because to me the only difference from the other campsites was that we weren’t allowed to be there, but I could tell she wasn’t about to have a discussion on the matter. So I said that we could stay there, but that I was sleeping in the drivers seat in case some police officer decided to stop on by. Sadly there was to be no snuggling that night. But once I found a comfortable position, a few hours later, I managed to sleep better than the first night we spent in the car.

Nevertheless that sleep was not sufficient. The next day we headed back on the road, this time with me driving. Kelly kept sleeping in the back for about an hour. The drive was nice because I learned how the Smokey’s got their name. The pine trees admit a hydro-carbon that cause a profound smoky fog. Driving along it looked like the mountains were on fire from all the smoke. And in some cases it only covered their bases so some of them looked like islands in the sea. But this entertained me for only so long, and I started day-dreaming and drifting off to sleep. Finally Kelly needed to take the wheel. And from that point on she drove us all the way back.

On the way back we stopped by Mammoth Caves and Abraham Lincolns birthplace.

Finally we made it all the way to her Aunt and Uncle’s house where they took us on their boat over to the marina and treated us to dinner. We then spent an hour going through pictures, and finally I hit the bed and slept for many wakeless hours. And that was the end of our grand road trip.

2010-10-22T14:21:00.000-07:00

That night, after our encounter with the pluff mud, we decided it was high time on our trip to go out for a real nice dinner, and I knew the perfect place. California Dreaming is a restaurant on the Charleston bay that has been converted from an old military fort. Being as such, it has a very interesting appearance inside and out. Inside you sit around the perimeter so that everyone has a nice view of the water. In times past, I have seen dolphins swimming around, but even without the wildlife getting to see the big yachts and deep sea fishing boats is pretty neat. Kelly would agree with this because we couldn’t even drive up to the restaurant without her wanting to get out and start taking pictures and talking to people. But I wanted to be sure we could get a table so with saintly patience she let me drive to the restaurant and see about a reservation. Turns out they don’t take reservations. It’s simply first come first serve. It was 6:30 and we wanted to walk around before the sun set so I asked if we could come back at 7. They said they would make an exception for us and make sure a table was available. And with that Kelly bolted out the door and down to the docks.

Right away we saw a guy on one of the fishing boats doing some work. This guy could not have been more of a stereotype. He had no shirt or shoes, a bronze tan, untrimmed hair under a ball cap, and was smoking a cigarette while drinking a beer. Kelly started talking to him and before we knew it we were on his boat being given a tour. Then he pulled out two fishing poles and some large frozen fish that were going to use as bait. He was distraught that Kelly had not been able to catch anything the night before, and he said, “we may not catch anything but I am going to try real hard.” Okay, the guy was a stereotype and that was the G-rated version, but you get the idea. Kelly and I fished for about a half an hour off the dock, but the best we were able to do was see a crab take Kelly’s bait and then run off.

About half way through, G.T., that’s his name, got frustrated and pulled out a fishing net used to catch bait. He felt that maybe the fish weren’t in the mood for the dead bait and that we might have better fortune if used something alive. After the first cast he caught two little minnows, which he promptly speared for us. It was a little sad seeing him do that. Even he apologized to them. And they sadly died in vain because they were of no help. G.T. kept casting that net, and Kelly and I kept fishing, but none of us caught anything. G.T. had a crab on the net at one point and a stick. So we left saying we caught 5 things. But it was fun and we learned a lot. G.T. was the one who told us we had found pluff mud. He also told us we were probably never in any real life threatening danger. This was a little disappointing because it was so much more fun to think we had escaped with our lives from some grave threat by our own athleticism and intellect but in the end we had just walked into a homogenous smelly mud puddle.

At this point it was 7:30 and since the sun had set we gave G.T. our thanks and ran off to the restaurant. Inside Kelly told the host and a manager about our fishing adventure and that if she had caught a fish she was going to bring it in and have them cook it. The manager said that they do that and he didn’t blame us for missing our 7:00 table. Dinner itself was amazing. But we didn’t have dessert. That we saved for the condo, where Kelly had Moose Tracks and milk, and I had Moose Tracks, cake, and Mountain Dew.

Pluff Mud

2010-10-19T17:50:00.000-07:00

We made it to Kiawah with no troubles. When we got there we had to check in to pick up the keys to the condo. Unfortunately, the condo was not ready for us so we had to explore for awhile. So I took her to the beach where she instantly jumped right into the ocean. And that act set the pace for what would be the next four days. If there was light Kelly was outside playing and exploring.

That first afternoon was spent showing Kelly around the island. Every time we stopped she pulled out her fishing rod. And you would have been wise to have bet she would catch something. Fish were jumping everywhere. We went to the lagoons where I had seen alligators in years past and to the marshes where the herons hunt. But you would also have lost your money because she never got even a bite.

The next day I wanted to go on a bike ride with her to the end of the island. Sand on beaches generally comes in two properties. If it is wet, then typically it is like concrete. And if it is dry, then it is like play sand. But at the end of the island, where the ocean divides the main land with the island, the sand takes on a third property. Here every step you take is like how I imagine walking on the moon would be. The sand sinks and depresses with your foot, but also doesn’t get blown around like play sand. So you leave behind big foot prints.

On the way we rode by the world famous Ocean Course. It has hosted and is scheduled to host many major golf tournaments. Every hole has a view of the Atlantic. Even the driving range is a sight to see. Which Kelly saw close up, because she hopped the fence and ran onto it looking for balls.

Finally we made it to the end of the island, at probably the peak of low tide. Other than a few rangers who were far off, we were the only people in sight. We wanted to get to the mainland and were hopping the ocean would be shallow enough that we could ride our bikes across. It wasn’t. We had to wade water up to our waste to get through. Also the sand beneath us was like quick sand constantly sucking us down, making that wade very difficult and very wet. This was particularly concerning to me, because I did not want to ride all the way back to the condo sitting on that bike seat with drying tightie whities.

But we made it across and started exploring. Kelly loved the sand and the views. We saw a large flock of pelicans sitting on the shore and nice sized sand dunes. But we also saw a group of small turns sitting off in the distance near some marsh grass. That was a curiosity to us and we wanted to see what had made them clump there. As we started towards them we noticed the sand was very odd. It was like walking on a trampoline. We would take a step, the sand would push down supporting our weight, and when we lifted our foot the sand came right back up with us. Immediately we felt the need to jump up and down on this wonderful surface. When I landed I pushed through the sands’ surface, went down to about my ankles, and noticed a disgusting smelling black icky substance was pouring out from the holes I had made. Right away I had difficulties regaining my balance and I noticed I was sinking. But when Kelly jumped she immediately went straight down to about her thigh. At this point she honestly felt she was going to die. She was sinking and could not get out. And told me to take her hand, and while subconsciously I knew that was stupid idea I took it anyway. And down I went to my thigh. We made it out by crawling out on our hands and knees.

Later we learned that we had jumped into a pit of pluff mud. Pluff mud is essentially decaying plant matter. I believe what had happened is similar to the skin of pudding. The sand from the ocean had blown across the pluff mud and had create a thin but somewhat strong surface that was able to support our weight. But when we jumped on it, that surface broke and down we went and up came the pluff mud.

So after the first full day on the island we nearly killed ourselves, and we still had another one and half days to spend.

Kelly and I doing a little grocery shopping. The grocery store is very forward thinking, just look at the weight watchers buggy.

Driving Through Appalacha

2010-10-13T06:01:00.000-07:00

Leaving Ohio sometime the next morning, we traveled South heading through the Virginia's. I had seen some nice pictures of the Farmers Market in Roanoke, and wanted to stop by. Roanoke is a bit off of 77 South, so getting there was going to allow us to get creative. We could take the major highways or instead some of the smaller roads. We chose the smaller roads. In particular we went on 311. 311 gave us some very nice views and was an interesting road itself with many turns and hills. In fact the moment we turned on 311 we had to stop because we saw a flock of turkey vultures just sitting by the side of the road. But while on 311 I saw a road that went up a hill and told Kelly, who was driving at this time, to turn on it because the top of the hill might offer a great view. It didn't, and instead the little road turned into a one-lane gravel path. Not being able to pass this up we continued on this little road and saw some amazing sights.

The houses we passed had three characteristics. They looked as though a strong wind could blow them over, they could be placed on a truck and driven away, and they had either a rebel flag, a satellite dish that looked more expensive than the house, or both.

At one point we came to a general store. Shortly after we got on 311 we came into Virginia. Then a little while later we were back in West Virginia. About a half hour to an hour later we hit the general store, and asked the lady at the counter what state we were in and she said at the top of the hill we just came down we had entered Virginia again. She was very polite, helpful, and well put together. Her accent was adorable. But after we got back in the car Kelly immediately asked me if I had thought something seemed off about the lady. As Kelly put it, "she seemed like a demon was in her, and that fire would come from her eyes." And I completely agreed, there was something terribly off about that lady. After thinking about it for awhile I think I've got it figured out. Her voice was very nice, but her facial expressions did not correspond to her tone. It would be like saying, "Yes, I would love some ice-cream", while shaking my head left and right. I thought of her as sort of a live action version of Droopy.

Shortly after the general store we got terribly lost. But this is what GPSs are for. We had a laugh because the GPS wanted us to get on Highway 465. This "highway" was simply a one laned paved road. Which I suppose was better than the one lane gravel road we had been traveling on. But finally, with the GPS helping us, we made it to Roanoke.

Roanoke turned out to be much larger than I had expected. We never did find the Farmers Market. This was okay though because we had gotten there so late in the day, there was probably no market to be found. Instead we drove by a park that I noticed had frisbee golf, so we stopped and played a round. After one particularly pathetic hole for Kelly, I had clearly won the match but I only counted her 3 - 4 extra throws as 1 so in the end we tied. Then we went to a little diner for dinner. There was too much on the menu though for us to make a decision so when the hostess came to take our order I asked, "we are tired and hungry, what do we want?" And she told us, and we agreed and we had that. Kelly felt the menu warranted a photo. She liked the PBJ and was grossed by the fried Balogna. Speaking from experience fried Balogna is very tasty!

After dinner the sun was setting, and we didn't know where we were staying for the night. We started driving South again on 77, keeping our eyes peeled for a camping sign. Kelly worked the GPS and found a site. The GPS tried its best to get us there, but at one point the road we were on stopped and a sign was up ahead saying, "End of State Maintained Road". Up ahead the road turned into a sort of rocky tire path with grass inbetween. We decided this was technically a road and since we were driving an SUV we ought to treat it like one and continue on like the GPS mentioned. My poor car got scrapped left, right, up and down, by branches and brambles, and after a quarter mile or so we came to a locked gate that would not let us proceed further. So I had to a 50 point turn around and drive back out. Hitting the detour button the GPS took us on a much longer path but eventually we found the campsite.

We were the only people at the site. This was a little off putting to us, but the site was open so we found a parking spot and made camp. Since it was very dark, and we had no idea where tents could be set up, camp was the back of the Pilot. We moved all the luggage to the front seats and made a big space in the back where we could lie down. The tent actually served as my pillow. I cracked the sun roof to give the water vapor from our breath a route of escape and we proceeded to "sleep". That night was very cold, and while I know I slept at least 4 times because of my 4 very distinct dreams, 2 of which were winter themed, I noticed each time I woke up Kelly was a little closer. By the end of night we were huddled up next to each other. I was trying to be manly and stayed on my side of the Pilot, but whenever she moved I silently swore at her to get back where she was because I was very cold too.

The night was rather awful. We had little sleep, were very cold, and also sore from lying on the hard floor. As we were leaving I made a wrong turn and ended up passing a house with some dogs outside. And one of those dogs was a basset hound!!!!! He alone made the whole night worthwhile.

Big Road Trip

2010-10-11T13:52:00.001-07:00

What a week. First let's say "Happy Birthday" to Gurney. It's a little late, but still worth noting. Next let's get back to me.

Last week I went on the big road trip with Kelly. We went through, Indiana, Ohio, West Virginia, Virginia, North and South Carolina, Tennessee and Kentucky. Seeing everything from Mammoth Cave and Abe Lincoln's birth in Kentucky, to the sandy shores of South Carolina. There was essentially no dull moments the entire time, so trying to get through everything here would require more effort than I want. However there were some events that stood out from the rest.

On Friday night, Kelly drove to Indiana to stay at her Aunt and Uncle's. To do this she had to drive right through where I live. So she stopped by, and when she saw how close I lived she just had to see how this random person she was about to go on a road trip with lived. She liked what she saw and we watched a couple of music videos before heading out to Wendy's for our first road trip dinner. As we were getting ready to go she pointed out my 'Machette' poster and asked "Is this your man poster?" I said it was. A little while later she just burst out laughing and said, "I'm really glad you have that poster hanging up because this place is just way too coordinated." Hah, it does work!

After Wendy's she continued on. I was going to meet up with her Saturday evening and stayed with her and her Aunt and Uncle for the night. For me this was a little discomforting because I do not like staying over at strangers homes. I feel a bit like a burden, and I'm a little shy anyway. But fortunately her Aunt and Uncle were extremely hospitable, social, and relaxed which made me feel right at home. So no good stories there, I was nice and behaved. The next day we traveled to Ohio. I needed to head up to Cleveland to celebrate my Grandfathers 80th birthday and Kelly wanted me to drop her off in Columbus so she could visit a friend. The birthday party was great, and impressive. At the end of the party, my other 80 year old grandfather was tearing down tables and hauling them off to the storage closest in the reception hall where the party was thrown like he was 20. I hope I can be like that at his age. I wish I could be like that now! And Kelly too had an interesting little adventure. This friend of hers she hadn't seen in 19 years. In fact she has two children now, the oldest of which at 12 is nearly the age they last saw each other. So these two old friends who hadn't seen each other in two decades had to spend the next 8 hours with each other. That was another recipe for disaster, but things turned out great and they had a good time.

That night we stayed my folks house. Here Kelly was the one who got to feel out of place. She liked how I had perfectly described my parents ahead of time, and thought it was interesting to see exactly what qualities each of them has in me. According to her, a social worker, I do not have any mental disorders. Rather, I am the product of them.

Okay that was the start of the trip. Essentially nothing awful happened, and to give you a heads up, nothing terrible happened the rest of the trip either. But I still have some more I want to talk about. For now enjoy the pictures.

String Instruments

2010-09-30T16:31:00.000-07:00

Apparently, not everyone agrees with what I had to say in the last post. So today, being tasteful Thursday, I have two videos to show you, one of which we can all agree is rather special.

This first video is another one of me playing a song for you all. Since some of you don't find my articles entertaining maybe you'll find some pleasure in my performing. Notice the dusty keyboard and how it accentuates the tune.

The second video is of Rodrigo and Gabriela playing the guitar. I think these guys would be great to dance to; I can't help tapping my foot in time with their songs.

And finally let us end this month with a quote from our good friend Gurney. While visiting me with Morgan, we were watching the season premiere of 'Top Chef Just Desserts', and the announcer said, "Up next, the chefs work with an ingredient that some say is better than love." To which Gurney replied, "Butter."

One Fish, Not Two Fish or Three Fish

2010-09-29T18:05:00.000-07:00

Today I feel like sharing with all of you bleeding hearts my so called theological response to the following comment: "Don't worry, there are other fish in the sea."

No there aren't. And what follows is why.

God loves everyone, even the people who don't believe in Him. We were taught this as children. If you have forgotten, then try to remember those timeless lyrics, "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so." In particular, that Bible passage is 1 John 4:16. We also know this by other passages, and can infer it by many others. By loving us, God must desire what is best for us. This is because you cannot love someone and desire that something bad will happen to him or her. And by being God, He automatically knows what is best for us. Whatever this is happens to be is His plan for us. So God has a plan for everyone on the planet.

This plan is a perfect plan, because God cannot be with fault. By being a perfect plan it can only have one path of execution. This is because if something is perfect, it by definition cannot be made more perfect. You cannot have what is best and make it better. Something can only be made less perfect. And the way something perfect is made less perfect is by altering it. So by adding or taking away from God’s plan it will necessarily be made less perfect.

So since God’s perfect plan for everyone only has one path, that means for those called to marriage it can only lead to one other person. The path cannot branch off to others, and remain as God’s perfect plan for us.

As far as I am concerned, that's my argument for why there is only one fish in the sea. Essentially God's perfect plan for us can only lead to one other person.

But we aren't perfect. As much as I hate to admit it that includes me. Everyone messes up occasionally, and thereby falls slightly or significantly off the path. It may be possible to get back on the path, but in some cases it may not be. For example, maybe God's plan for me is to get an A Calculus. Say I take my first exam and get my typical C- or lower grade. At this point I have clearly fallen off the path a bit, but I have some options. I can work hard, do better, and still earn an A. Or I could give up and fail the course altogether. Or maybe I just keep at it and end up with a B. In all 3 cases, my life isn't over, but in only one of those cases did I manage to get back on the path.

But say I don't get back on. Fortunately we are not doomed to misery and wallow. Otherwise sin and death would prevail, and God has already won that battle. So even though we may fall hopelessly off the perfect path, that does not mean that great good cannot still come from it. For the guy who completely missed the boat with the girl God had meant for him, that doesn’t mean he can’t marry another and still live a happy full life. True, it cannot be as perfect or fulfilling as God had originally intended, but it can still be rather amazing. Of course it could be exceptionally awful too.

For a moment pretend all guys on the planet managed to live as amazing a life as I do. Well it takes two to tango and that still leaves the girls. Even if the guy manages to live a perfect life, that doesn't mean the girl will. So by no fault of his own, the guy may not end up with his special lady. But as I mentioned, that doesn't mean that someone else can't work some magic in his life.

Unfortunately, there is no way to ever tell for certain if someone is 'the one'. But there are signs. First off we have to remember that because God loves us, and wants what is best for us, that means we are to have inner joy. Note that inner joy, and the emotion of happiness are not necessarily the same thing. The writers of the New Testament letters explain this apparent contradiction much better than I can here. But getting back on track, that inner joy will bring peace to our hearts. Because of this, whoever we are meant to be with will bring us a sense of that peace. Setting aside our emotions, we need to internally reflect on the prospect, pray, and act.

There is a bit of trust involved, but we know that God will not give us a snake if we ask for an egg. In other words, God isn't going to hook us up with someone we simply have no desire for. But we need to trust that whoever that is, he or she may not be what we were expecting.

In short, for those of us called to marriage we were only ever meant for one other person. True, many other people may work out fine, but only one was meant to be for us.

Okay, so maybe there are other fish in the sea. I just don't like the implication that those fish are in some ways as good if not better than the one we were meant to catch.

Mini Road Trip

2010-09-27T17:56:00.000-07:00

Much too early the next morning Kelly and I headed out for the Dells. I let her drive. The fact that I had no proper plates, registration, or proof of insurance was lost on me. Fortunately she is a great driver, and she even let me control the radio. To you, my readers, you know what marvelous taste I have, but Kelly is still a little new so she wouldn't know what to expect. But I had her singing along to ABBA's 'Take a Chance on Me' in no time.

A half hour from the Dells, we stopped at McDonald's for breakfast and she paid. That sounds random but I'm coming back to it. As we entered the Dell's we saw a place to our left called 'MagiQuest'. A co-worker of hers said we just had to go. So we did. This was at 11:00 and when we entered it must have just opened because we didn't see anyone other than some little kids and a cleaning lady. MagiQuest is essentially a 3-story McDonald Playland. Kelly just dove right in and started climbing around. I yelled at her, "Kelly, you can't just go running in there like that!" "Oh come on, what's the big deal no one is around." "You have to take your shoes off first." She didn't, and neither did I. It was sort of fun running around in there trying to avoid the cleaning lady. I think she knew we were in there but didn't care.

After a little bit of being a hamster we left. That was awesome, we just experienced a major attraction for free. It wasn't like we could have paid, there was no one around. Next we saw right next door something that looked like a massive 'Chuckie Cheese'. So we went right to it, and just like MagiQuest it had just opened. We saw DDR had free credits in it, so we danced a round and both got E's. Then we played basketball because for whatever the reason the machine kept returning the balls to us. We also used our imagination and rode on the motorcycle arcade games. Those motorcycles could really go low on the turns, I have no idea how people take turns so fast in real life and maintain their balance. Major attraction number two down and again it was all free.

Next we saw a sign for a state park and decided to check it out. On the way I decided I didn't want to go because the terrain was all flat and I didn't want to just walk around in a flat forest. But on the way out we drove over a bridge that crossed a big creek or small river that had gorged its way far down into the rocks which created really high cliffs. I told Kelly she needed to immediately pull over, and she did and we scaled a small fence and went to the river. Kelly decided to scale the cliff itself. Again I screamed at her, because it was very steep, covered in moss, and high up. High up enough that we both thought falling down would mean instant death. I went a different way that slightly safer, but she made it down fine. Then we skipped rocks for awhile and then climbed back out. This time we both went up the way she climbed down. I thought going up looked much safer than going down. Still I wasn't too thrilled about having to grab roots as a hold that was keeping me from plunging to my death.

Next we drove to the main downtown area. We found there was a huge festival going on, which had attracted a ton of people. Parking was impossible. Really, we drove around and couldn't find anything. At one point we passed a Catholic Church, and I said, "Kelly, go try the Church's parking lot. I hung up this Rosary and Mary's going to help us out." And sure enough, there was one spot left. And I might add this was the only spot we saw the entire time. Mary is awesome, always ask her for stuff.

Downtown is essentially a giant tourist trap. Walking around we saw "Wizard's Quest" and both realized this was where Kelly's co-worker wanted us to go. It did look fun, but it was expensive and time consuming so we kept walking around. At one point we went into a Haunted Hose, which was $8 a person. Kelly said, "I'll give you $4 per person" and the guy said okay. So we went in, and found it really was scary. There were no lights or noises. Just complete blackness. We had to feel along the walls. Then we came to the end of the hallway and all the lights and music came on. We had gone in the exit rather than the entrance. But this seemed like fun so we kept making our way through.

After the haunted house we went to the various candy shops and ate a good deal of free samples of fudge and peanut brittle. Then we decided we need to try chocolate covered bacon. Do not try chocolate covered bacon.

At this point we were decided to drive around some more. Doing this we saw a sign for another park and decided to see it. But somehow we wound up on the highway going towards home. So we decided we were tired and it might be best to head that way. But on the way we passed by the exit for an Indian casino, and Kelly decided we needed to check it out. I had never been to a casino before. It was a lot of fun. I lost $20 much to quickly on two hands of Texas Hold 'Em, hey I had a pair of 10s and only 2 others were playing, but then only $5 more the rest of the 6 hours we were there. Those pennies machines are a blast and we got free pop!

Finally we left to go home. At this point we had only eaten McDonald's, candy, and pop. So we were hungry and overly-tired, where everything becomes funnier than it should be. We wound up driving through Freeport, and Kelly decided to show me 'Little Wrigley', but we didn't know the way. After awhile of driving up and down streets we found it and while we were looking at it, Kelly got a phone call. Her friend Carrie wanted to hang out with us both. Being overly-tired this sounded like a terrific idea so we hurried on back.

Carrie was waiting for us outside when we pulled up. She was very nice, and not too shy. She and Kelly decided for me that I needed to ride the bull at a local bar. I too felt this had to be done. First we had to stop at 'Taco Bell', this was Kelly and I's first real meal since McDonald's. I had 1 taco and she had 1 cheese stick thingy (not sure what it's called). She paid again which rocked. Then we walked to the bar with the bull. But the bull cost $3 to ride, and Kelly and I had literally spent every last bit of cash we had at the casino, so there was no bull riding for me. But they both complimented me for being willing to ride it. We walked around to two other bars before finally at 1 in morning deciding to call it a day. Neither of us had a drink while we were out, but by the time we stumbled back into her place, anyone would think we were plastered.

Kelly commented that on the real road trip, we would have to pace ourselves a bit better or we'd be too exhausted to continue by the second day. But hey, that meant our trial was a success and she wanted to go on the real thing. I agreed with her and also felt the day had been successful. So in early October we have our plans set for the real deal. A week long road trip. No I'm not saying where or what. All that should hopefully make for good posts.

Rapidly Growing Red Lights

2010-09-27T06:54:00.000-07:00

The seven and a half hour drive from Cleveland to Kelly's was rather uneventful excepting for one point during the trip. I was in a line of cars passing a truck. There was a car in front of me, and another car quite aways up in front of him. I myself was a pretty good distance away from the car in front of me. For whatever the reason, I decided to look to the right, I don't remember what had caught my eye now, but when I looked forward again I saw that the guy in front of me had hit his brakes.

Since he wasn't very close to anyone I got very confused because I couldn't figure out why he was braking. All I knew was that I was now very close to him and rapidly closing the gap. My first thought was to swerve around him. This was because Grandpa said the brakes needed to be changed, immediately, so I figured they should be last resort. But there was no where to turn. At this point I had made up my mind that an accident was eminent and at these speeds definitely injurious if not fatal. And I was so close I thought that even if the brakes held, there still wasn't enough room to stop. In fact I was so close I almost didn't bother lifting my root to touch the brakes. But earlier that day I had, for the first time in owning a car, hung up my rosary on the rear view mirror. I remember saying a quick prayer and then slammed the brakes.

At that point, time sort of froze for me. But I had stopped. No accident happened. I took a look in my rear view mirror and noticed the car behind me had also managed to stop. I still do not know why that car in front of me decided to brakes so hard. At the time he started I wasn't so close to him that I would have thought he would do a brake test. And even still this wasn't a brake test, where you just hit the brakes real quick. This guy had the brakes on for quite sometime.

Well I made it to Kelly's. She showed me her house and her extensive revisions which really were quite impressive. I couldn't wire in a light bulb to save me, but she had managed to practically tear down and rebuild many of the rooms in her house.
We then went for a long walk along the canal, had a Mexican dinner at an Irish bar with a middle aged husband and wife we met up with, the lady whose hair was as orange as her suit coat, and played the Wii until the next morning when I completely exhausted fell asleep. When we woke it was to start our trial road-trip to Wisconsin Dells.

Three Old Stories

2010-09-25T11:11:00.000-07:00

Grandpa drove me to his house where Grandma had breakfast started for us. They started with a plate of fruit. This plate of fruit was a meal in itself. As I’ve mentioned I hate sushi. The only thing I hate more is people who ask me if I’ve had good sushi. Well apparently they might be on to something because I also hated pineapple. I say ‘hated’ because the pineapple Grandma had was divine. “Grandma, I hate pineapple but this is incredible.” “That’s because I bought this fresh, and cleaned it myself. I don’t trust those cleaning machines the workers use. I don’t think they clean them very well and I don’t think they wash their hands.”

After my plate of fruit, Grandpa then made me a ham, cheese, and egg sandwich. Then Grandma gave me an oatmeal cookie. Grandparents are the best. Then we got down to business. Grandpa had just bought a 2010 Land Rover and had a 2003 Honda Pilot, with only 53,000 miles on it, sitting around. And the reason I had gone to visit them was to pick it up, because they were giving it to me for free!

We talked a little more, Grandpa took me for a test drive, and then I got on the road with two more of those wonderful oatmeal cookies to go visit my other Grandfather. He was not expecting me to visit, so when I showed up and said “Hi, Grandpa” he just lit up like a light bulb. And he just talked and talked, in between bites of one of those oatmeal cookies. Mom said he doesn’t talk much, so he must have been really excited to see me. He wanted to talk about how the thing he misses the most is driving. When he was younger he liked to drive fast. He told me two stories.

Shortly after he married Grandma they took a trip down to Florida. Grandpa had gotten a new car whose speedometer was rated for 120 mph. He wanted to see if it could hit that. In Georgia he made his run, and got it up to 118 before it maxed out. At this point he saw off in the distant the whirling overhead lights in his rear view mirror. He pulled over and the officer arrested them both on the spot. They were charged with a large fine, over $100. Grandpa pulled out his bond card (no idea what that is), and said “I have a bond card”, but they weren’t interested in that. Then he said he doesn’t carry that type of cash on him, so they let him go with the promise he would send them a check when he made it back to Cleveland. And he did. Two days later there was an article in the ‘Plain Dealer’ that the police in Georgia were specifically targeting out of state speeders and charging them ridiculous fines.

Then he told me another story. Again he was in Georgia and going through a school zone. But he had learned his lesson and was driving the marked speed of 15 mph. And he noticed an officer on the left and was happy he was going the speed limit. But a short while later the officer pulled him over. Grandpa asked the officer what was wrong and he said Grandpa was speeding. Grandpa said he was not speeding, that he was going the 15 mph and asked what the officer clocked him at. The officer said he didn’t need to clock him to tell he was speeding. Then he went to the back of Grandpa and Grandma’s car, put his foot on the bumper and started writing out the ticket. Grandpa got out of the car went over to the officer and pushed his leg off the car. The officer almost fell over and Grandpa said, “Keep your foot off my car that’s private.” The officer said, “So you’re one of those damn smart a$$ Yankees.” Grandpa replied, “I don’t know about being smart, but that’s private property and you are to keep off it.” So the officer said they were going to have to go to court. When Grandpa said they were from Ohio and would have to travel back, the officer said they would do it right now and they drove off to the Courthouse. But the judge wasn’t in, so the officer said that he would just have to write them a ticket, rather than keep them in jail, and asked for Grandpa’s license. Grandpa again tried his bond card, but the officer again wasn’t interested so then Grandpa gave his driver’s license him, and the officer after looking at it said, “What this HD mean on your license?” “That means I was honorably discharged from the army.” “You were in the army?” “Yes, this damn Yankee was overseas risking his life so you could keep enjoying yours.” The officer said he would not write a ticket and instead leave them with a warning. Grandpa said he didn’t need a warning, he wasn’t speeding. But the officer wouldn’t hear it and gave them the warning anyway.

Then another time he was driving on a two lane road with Grandma when two racers were taking up both lanes of the road were driving for them. Grandpa was forced to drive off the road, which caused his car to spin out of control. Well he wasn’t about to have any of that, and turn around to chase them. He said he was going to pull them out of their cars, but Grandma grabbed him by the arm and said to let it go. So he did. His response after these three stories was, “Yeah, I was really ornery.”

At this point, I had to leave if I was to get on the road and proceed on the 7.5 hour drive I had to make. So I said my goodbye and got on the road. The rest of the weekend is coming in the upcoming posts.

Wheels Going Round and Round

2010-09-22T10:17:00.001-07:00

Apparently my Jaguar is not suitable enough for a road trip. Kelly, the girl I'm going on the road trip with, felt that it was too small. So last Friday I went and acquired an SUV just to make her happy.

On Thursday night, I boarded a bus to take me to Cleveland. The trip had one transfer, which was in Chicago. I was to leave here at 5:15, and arrive in Cleveland on Friday morning at 7:30. On the way up, the bus driver yelled at me. Literally, he shouted at me. At 95th St. a ton of people got off the bus, so I thought that maybe this was my stop. My ticket didn't say which terminal or address the transfer was to take place. It just said, Chicago. I felt 95th St. was in Chicago, it may have only been a street in a suburb, and the terminal was very large, so it seemed like the right place. But I don't travel much by bus, so I asked the bus driver as I got off the bus, "Excuse me, can you please take a look at my ticket and tell me if this is my stop." "Where does your ticket say to get off at." "It doesn't, it just . . ." "It does." "No, it only . . ." "This is 95th St." "Yes, I know that, but I don't know if . . ." "This is 95th St. This is 95th St! This is 95th St!! This is 95th St!!!" "I do not understand." "Get back on the bus!!!!"

A girl on the bus, who heard him screaming at me, said that this was not the right stop. The terminal I wanted is in downtown Chicago. I felt that was unclear by my ticket. Maybe my ticket would have said 95th St. if that was where I was supposed to get off. But 95th St. is not a terminal or a city, it's an address. And since my ticket didn't provide an address, telling me what street we happened to be on, wasn't clearing up my confusion. If my ticket would have said 95th St. if I were to stop there, then it is perfectly reasonable to infer that my ticket would have said Main St. or whatever street it is for my terminal in downtown Chicago. But it didn't. It just said Chicago, and I thought that since Chicago is so big, there could very well be more than one terminal and all I wanted to do was make sure I had gotten off at the right one.

At the Chicago terminal a young lad came up to me, probably a college student, asking if I could help him by giving him $11 for a bus ticket to South Bend. I said no. Then I watched him walk around asking others for money, and occasionally he got some. After awhile he came back to my section of the terminal and asked another guy for $11. I didn't say anything but thought, "Hey, I just saw you get money from other people. You don't need $11. If they gave you $7 then you only need $4. Liar. Not only that but you are carrying around a hot chicken dinner with mashed potatos from the terminal restaurant. Clearly, if you can a $7 meal, then you don't need money for a bus ticket." The other guy he asked also said no. So the liar asked if he would watch his stuff as he went to fill up his water cup. He said okay. When the liar walked away the guy looked at me and asked, "How does he need $11 when he has this meal?" I said I was thinking the exact same thing.

As we approached the Cleveland terminal, the new bus driver said, "Please remain seated until the bus comes to a complete stop at the terminal." I remember thinking at that point that she was smart to say "at the terminal." Otherwise, I could have gotten up right then and there at the stop light. Maybe less than a minute later, a guy walks on up. And she yelled at him, "Did you not hear what I just said. Sit down!" Then she got on her microphone and proclaimed to us all, "There is always one. Always one who doesn't listen." I was a little scared by this. I was 2 minutes from my destination and this lady was going to us all shot. I realize that maybe from a liability perspective she needs people to remain seated, but that was not the way to handle it.

I left the terminal and went looking for Grandpa, who was picking me up. A man was standing at his window asking for money. I got in and said, "Hi Grandpa, I see you made a friend." At that point he drove me to his place where I got to see Grandma and have breakfast. The rest of this adventure continues with the next post.

IM Acquaintance

2010-09-12T08:46:00.000-07:00

While typing a message to an extremely attractive girl with an amazing personality on the OKC site, a girl I had not seen before said “Hello” through the instant messenger feature the site offers. I took a quick look at the photo attached to her instant message, took a look at the photo of the girl I was writing to, looked back at the IM girl, and then resumed typing my message. After I sent that message I took one last look at the girl’s profile and noticed she had not signed on since February 2009. So feeling dejected once again, I decided to respond to the IM message.

The girl told me that my profile made her laugh and she wanted to say “hi”. Then she told me I shouldn’t be scared by her profile because she is much nicer in person. I took a brief look at her profile and was horrified. It was terrible. In fact I told her so, my first two sentences to her were “Hello.” and “Horrifying.”, and asked her if anyone actually writes her, and surprisingly she said she does get messages. Then I took a look at her pictures. These didn’t help anything so I decided just to focus on our conversation. She told me she does standup comedy, which made me respond that she had given me a very good compliment then saying my profile is funny. She said I should take it however I want, and I replied I will take it as a compliment and let it go straight to my head. At this point I needed to get off because it was getting late. She was pleasant during the conversation, but that profile and her pictures ensured I was not going to be falling for her.

The next day I was on the site again, and she said “hello” again. This time I had a bit more time to chat, and we talked for awhile on the IM service. Towards the end of this lengthy chat it became clear she wanted to meet up sometime. Sounding very much closed minded I said I would be happy to meet up, but just as friends. I did not think we had any chance of starting a serious relationship, but we could possibly be friends. I realized then that this sounds like I was making my mind up before even giving things a chance. I told her that and she thanked me for being upfront, but I still thought it was wrong of me to be so decided and I decided to try and keep an open mind.

We had decided to meet up for dinner at a local Indian restaurant. I was pleased to go there because the restaurant really is amazing. The Indian food is so good, I’ve tried a ton of different recipes there and they have all been winners. She had never been there before, but it was her idea to go. And she loved it too once she had her meal. After dinner we walked around some and talked some more. Then I walked to her apartment and said “too-da-loo”.

After this encounter I was further convinced that while she was very sweet and polite, we had no hope of being in a relationship. The next day she invited me to her standup comedy routine on Wednesday which takes place at a local bar.

The way the stand up works is that a number of comedians sign up before hand and they are given something like 5 – 10 minute intervals to perform. When I went there were probably 5 or so that performed while I was there. The comedy was poor. It was very vulgar, immature, demeaning, and in some cases hateful. There was no charm, and little wit. At some points I was bored to the point where I was watching baseball highlights that I couldn’t hear on one of the overhead monitors. And baseball is not a spectator sport. Amanda, the girl I’ve been hanging out with, probably had the best skit of all, but that was saying very little. A 2nd grade knock knock joke would probably have induced greater mirth out of me than anything I heard that night. After her performance we went outside and walked around town. I noticed that one of the bars had their salsa night going so we stopped in there and I taught Amanda the basic steps. That was pretty fun.

The next day she invited me to a festival in a nearby town where she is from on Saturday (today). I said I’d love to go, and I headed down and spent the day there today. That was a lot of fun. The little town was fun to walk through; we got some good festival food, saw a parade, did a little antiquing, met some people, and even went grocery shopping. Also I saw a basset hound walking in the distance. That alone makes today a good day. One of the antiques I got is an old book from 1920 called “How to Develop Your Personality.” It has chapters on proper breathing, good speaking, poise, self-confidence and other good topics. Definitely all things I can work on.

At this point Amanda and I have no new activities planned. She mentioned she would be curious to go to Mass with me sometime during the weekday, and wants to do a movie night sometime. In short, I suppose I need to give WAM some thanks for forcibly telling me to sign up on the site.

Wow, I completely butchered the word 'acquaintance'. If you look at the link to this page, you'll see what my original title was for this post.

Family First

2010-09-10T16:10:00.000-07:00

Before the wedding started I was sitting outside talking to some of the other participants. At one point a man sat down to chat with me. He is the father of the 2nd grade flower girl and preschool ring bearer. We were chatting for a little while about the war in Afghanistan when one of the mothers who I know well came and joined us.

At this point the conversation changed a little. She asked the man what was new with him. He said that his wife has been thinking about quitting her job to stay home with her children. Or maybe she wants to be there when they get home from school, I’m not sure, but the point is she is thinking about quitting her current job. He said that she was conflicted about the decision because by staying home with her children she would not be able to pursue her career and later in life she might regret that decision to not see how far she could take it.

This man was a stranger so when I spoke I tried to do it very delicately and said that I believe in the twilight of our years when we look back on our lives, we will never regret having spent time with our children. He sort of sat there with a reflective look on his face. But to this, the mother who had joined us scolded me for making such a generalized statement. And her husband sat down and agreed with her. Now they are my elders and I was in a public place so I kept my mouth shut and let them yell at me in front of this stranger. But the whole time I was thinking, anyone who would find more satisfaction in pursuing a career than raising their own child is not fit to be a parent. Note however that this is completely different than, for example, a Mom who must work to provide for her children.

In other news, Gurney is coming to visit this weekend! She moved a little over a year ago and has only been back once.

Scenic Route Home

2010-09-07T19:00:00.000-07:00

St. Pope Gregory the Great’s feast day was last Friday and he came through in spades for me. That weekend, I had to go home for Peter’s wedding. Speaking of weddings, we should take a moment to send Gurney our happy wishes too. But just a small moment, we don’t want her head getting too big. Now back to me. At 6:45 that morning I decided to go to the local Church for Confession, Mass and the Rosary, just because St. Gregory is so great. And then I went to work.

After work, I came home to change clothes. I needed to be home at 6:00 for a rehearsal dinner and apparently jeans were a no no. I had left work early enough to make it in at 5, and I figured I would have time to stop home and change there, but some little voice in my head said I should change now and simply have somewhat wrinkled clothes just in case I should get held up in traffic. At the time I noticed how odd that thought was. I knew there were going to be some pretty single girls around, and I did not want to be wearing wrinkled clothes. I’m also the type of person where if I plan on being home at 5, then I’m going to be home at 5. So the idea that I should make a contingency plan by dressing ahead of time was a rather rare action for me.

On the way home traffic was great, and I was probably due to set a record. Rather than being home at 5:00, I was looking to be home between 4:30 and 4:45. But then I saw a sign. It said that Exit 101 was blocked. That seemed odd to me because I was at Exit 149 and putting a sign up 50 miles ahead of time seemed a bit overly alertive. A mile later I hit the traffic jam. It was at a dead stop, but fortunately I was in the left lane and I was able to do a u-turn through the grass. I had never done that before, and was curious how my rear-wheel drive car would handle it. No problem at all, and soon enough I was looking for an exit to get off at and try the side roads. The exit I found was the one everyone was taking. I needed gas which was a problem due to the massive amounts of cars. But I wasn’t about to start taking side roads with so little fuel left. The exit was for a decent sized town so I figured there should be another gas station somewhere, but I was having little luck. I drove up and down a ton of side streets looking for a place to fill up. Finally, just as I had decided to go back to the gas station with the massive pile up I found a small station off in the distance that had just a few pumps. I filled up, took a tinkle, and was back on the road.

My GPS has a detour button, which I had not noticed before. Pressing it, I found it put me on a new side street that looked right. After a few miles on this street, my GPS decided it was time to try getting back on the highway. At this point I could see the massive line of cars that had also taken this side street and were also trying to get back on the highway. They too were at a stop. So I needed to u-turn again. But there was a problem. I was on a little two-lane country road with large ditches on either side of the street. Doing a u-turn was impossible. I had no option but to continue driving towards the line of cars and take my place. But then, just as I approached my place in line, there was a driveway to my left that let me drive in and back out of to do a u-turn. This was the only driveway in sight. Hitting detour once again, my GPS took me to a second side street. And again after awhile it tried to get me back on the original side street. And again I found myself approaching a long line of cars. And again just as I was coming to a stop, the only driveway in sight was on my right and I was able to do a u-turn once again.

This time I didn’t hit detour again. I just used the map feature and decided to make my own route. My own route took me through roads that were so curvy and hilly that I got myself carsick driving them. But I made my way back to the highway and had no other problems. By the time I got back on the highway I didn’t even know what state I was in, but I found I was about a mile from Ohio. I checked my GPS and it said my estimated time of arrival was 5:58. And sure enough I pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot promptly at 6:00!

Adding to this story was the fact that I had a GPS to use. The only reason I had it was because of my upcoming road trip. Awhile back I broke the charger, and it wasn’t until maybe a week or two ago that I replaced it. But had I not been going on this road trip I wouldn’t have bothered because I wasn’t planning on going anywhere else that would have required it. Without the GPS I never would have gotten there on time, and the only reason I am going on the road trip is because of a friend I met 6 years ago while I was an undergrad who I just so happen to still talk to, who moved 3 hours North and made a friend, and that friend is going on the road trip with me. "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie" is a wonderful book.

And that's the story of my own little Friday afternoon miracle. St. Gregory the Great, pray for us!

Me in 32 Questions

2010-08-27T16:35:00.000-07:00

Earlier today I took the dating persona test as part of this thing that gets me closer to a 100% complete profile on OKC. It's sorta lame how they make acheivements because that really calls to the video gamer in me and I can't not try to get 100%. So I took the test and here is what I was told:

Steady, reliable, and cradling her tenderly. Take a deep breath, and let it out real easy...you are The Slow Dancer

Your focus is love, not sex, and for your age, you have average experience. But you’re a great, thoughtful guy, and your love life improves every year. There’s also a powerful elimination process working in your favor: most Playboy types get stuck raising unwanted kids before you even begin settling down. The women left over will be hot and yours. Your ideal woman is someone intimate, intelligent, and very supportive.

While you’re not exactly the life of the party, you do thrive in small groups of smart people. Your circle of friends is extra tight and it’s HIGHLY likely they’re just like you. You appreciate symmetry in relationships.

It's a little creepy how correct some of that is. Especially the last paragraph.