I was driving back home with my wife from the story yesterday and I saw a gas station selling gas for $3.83 a gallon. My feelings about the lower price bothered me.
It is kinda like if one day my nemesis, the one I'm going to hire from craigslist, came up to me and punched me in the groin. Then the next day he came up to me again and punched me in the groin. He would do this everyday and everyday I would know I was going to get punched in he groin no matter what I did. He wouldn't even sneak up behind me, there would be no need for such stealth because there would be nothing I could do to stop it.
Until one day my nemesis comes up to me and punches me in the stomach. I would double over, (as I usually did when being struck) unfold and smile. My face would light up and my excitement over not being punched in the groin would boil over. I would be inspired to yell out, to no one in particular, words of pure elation. I would hug complete strangers.
What bothers me about this is that I'm still getting the crap kicked out of me. The only thing that has changed is that I'm excited about it now.
The post about my Wife and the Fair is coming soon. I'm working out publishing rights on some photos as well now. She's one tough cookie.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
My Imagination
This one is a little off the wall. I've been having some really weird things just popping into my head and to give people a feeling for how odd it can be to be me sometimes, and also because I've dished it out to everybody else enough on this blog that its time I make fun of myself a little bit, I've decided to share.
Last week my wife and I are driving to some friends house. It is garage sale season so there are tons of signs out of people trying to drive traffic to their yard sales. It was earlier in the morning and I wasn't really firing on all cylinders. What cylinders were firing were being used to operate the car I was driving. We passed one that my wife read aloud, "G-Sale." Obviously short hand for "Garage Sale"
The image that immediately pops into my head is a lime green ranch house with a concrete driveway with chalk drawings being interrupted by cracks in the surface. A middle aged lady sitting behind a folding table that she and her friends had played bridge on the night before with a glass of iced tea and a visor she had laying around the house that she had never worn, but could never throw away because she was sure it would come in handy some day.
From her perch in the garage doorway she keeps a close eye on all of her items for purchase. All seemed normal at this point. Then things got a little twisted. Instead of monopoly games where the thymbol, the car, and the dog pieces are missing, sweaters that have lights in them, and a collection of micro-machines that have been fished from the noses of children the items are of a more organic nature.
Scattered across the driveway are a collection of men of varying sizes, shapes and colors. Each one though is wearing a long chain made of either gold or platinum ornamented with some kind of medallion. Some had bottles of malt liquor in there hands, some had cigars, and others kept grabbing at their crotch and repeatedly pulling up their pants because, even though they were wearing a belt, it was for decorative purposes only.
All of them were yelling, and blurting out phrases that would have been difficult to understand even if they weren't all talking at the same time. None of them were wearing shirts with sleeves and one even took his shirt off and began pointing out all of his scars from being shot and/or stabbed.
My age group is obviously not the demographic for such a sale but it just goes to show how things can get confused between generations. To my mother that "G" means garage. To me, in the early hours of my day, that "G" meant a person who spent their time on the streets, being "G"angsta. More commonly spelled gangster. I then couldn't help but wonder how it would look if anybody actually showed up to that "G-sale" looking to buy G's and not useless personal belongings that people no longer want.
My sister in Law uses these on her Blog. I figured I would give them a try, don't worry Jen I will return them when I'm finished.
v
Also on another note of my mind running wild, I was doing laundry this afternoon and the fabric softener smelled so good that I began to wonder what it would taste like. Obviously we are told that drinking fabric softener would be a terrible idea, but what if somehow fabric softener tasted delicious and nobody bothered to taste it and find out.
I'm curious but not stupid. I will let someone else figure that one out for me. Also if anybody has ever come across something where it is general knowledge that it would be a bad idea to taste, but you were still curious; let me know. It would be comforting to know I'm not alone.
A little tease about my next couple posts...One will be about my Wife and how if you're going to the fair why she is the best person to go with. This may get delayed because she will probably get final editing rights. Also, on the subject of tasting things we shouldn't taste I want to tell a story about my friend Wendy who sampled some goods a Wilco. (For those of you who don't know Wilco is a farm supply store) Stay tuned.
Last week my wife and I are driving to some friends house. It is garage sale season so there are tons of signs out of people trying to drive traffic to their yard sales. It was earlier in the morning and I wasn't really firing on all cylinders. What cylinders were firing were being used to operate the car I was driving. We passed one that my wife read aloud, "G-Sale." Obviously short hand for "Garage Sale"
The image that immediately pops into my head is a lime green ranch house with a concrete driveway with chalk drawings being interrupted by cracks in the surface. A middle aged lady sitting behind a folding table that she and her friends had played bridge on the night before with a glass of iced tea and a visor she had laying around the house that she had never worn, but could never throw away because she was sure it would come in handy some day.
From her perch in the garage doorway she keeps a close eye on all of her items for purchase. All seemed normal at this point. Then things got a little twisted. Instead of monopoly games where the thymbol, the car, and the dog pieces are missing, sweaters that have lights in them, and a collection of micro-machines that have been fished from the noses of children the items are of a more organic nature.
Scattered across the driveway are a collection of men of varying sizes, shapes and colors. Each one though is wearing a long chain made of either gold or platinum ornamented with some kind of medallion. Some had bottles of malt liquor in there hands, some had cigars, and others kept grabbing at their crotch and repeatedly pulling up their pants because, even though they were wearing a belt, it was for decorative purposes only.
All of them were yelling, and blurting out phrases that would have been difficult to understand even if they weren't all talking at the same time. None of them were wearing shirts with sleeves and one even took his shirt off and began pointing out all of his scars from being shot and/or stabbed.
My age group is obviously not the demographic for such a sale but it just goes to show how things can get confused between generations. To my mother that "G" means garage. To me, in the early hours of my day, that "G" meant a person who spent their time on the streets, being "G"angsta. More commonly spelled gangster. I then couldn't help but wonder how it would look if anybody actually showed up to that "G-sale" looking to buy G's and not useless personal belongings that people no longer want.
My sister in Law uses these on her Blog. I figured I would give them a try, don't worry Jen I will return them when I'm finished.
v
***
I'm curious but not stupid. I will let someone else figure that one out for me. Also if anybody has ever come across something where it is general knowledge that it would be a bad idea to taste, but you were still curious; let me know. It would be comforting to know I'm not alone.
A little tease about my next couple posts...One will be about my Wife and how if you're going to the fair why she is the best person to go with. This may get delayed because she will probably get final editing rights. Also, on the subject of tasting things we shouldn't taste I want to tell a story about my friend Wendy who sampled some goods a Wilco. (For those of you who don't know Wilco is a farm supply store) Stay tuned.
Friday, August 15, 2008
My Friend Blake
I don't think Blake knows I'm writing this so I should say that this post in not an officially sanctioned post of Blake Arnold Incorporated.
I've known Blake for 4 years now. He has been a house mate, a groomsman, and a dear friend. The most incredible thing about Blake is that he is the most self sacrificing human being you will ever meet in your life. For the longest time I felt he may be too self sacrificing. That has since changed.Throughout the story below I will share some pictures of Blake, I think it iwll add to the emotional connection you will feel towards him. (Starting now)
Blake is most famous for driving girls with boyfriends hundreds of miles to go see their boyfriends. Because of Blake most, if not all, or these girls are now married to the boyfriends Blake drove them to see.
Blake goes out of his way to make your life easier, and more pleasant. The two instances where Blake's self sacrifice has been displayed to me are when he took upon himself as my groomsman to babysit another groomsman who got drunk at my wedding. Nobody wanted to do it, and I don't blame them, but Blake took it upon himself even driving said drunk groomsman home and stopping twice on a 15 mile trip for him to throw up. AWESOME!
Perhaps the greatest though is when I was a Junior in College, Blake was a freshman, and I refused to sleep on the sleeping porch.
To those who don't know a sleeping porch is where everybody that lives in the house sleeps. It always smells TERRIBLE and in the winter is freezing cause the door stays open so it doesn't smell worse. Probably the worst invention ever.
Instead I chose to sleep on the couch in my room. Towards the end of the year I was becoming stressed and having a difficult time sleeping. One night I was laying on the couch and Blake came in and we were talking about nothing in particular, but I remember his voice being so calming that in the middle of the conversation I fell asleep. I have never slept so good in my life!
The next night I asked Blake if he wouldn't mind talking me to sleep again. He happily obliged, and I got another great nights sleep. Word began to spread about the deal me and Blake had going. The next night my roommate Marcus slept on the other couch in our room and Blake talked both of us to sleep. By the middle of next week Marcus and I were kicking people were turning people away from sleeping on the floor of our room to listen to Blake talk them to sleep. (We never had more than 4 bodies in the room, otherwise it would have totally defeated the purpose of not sleeping on the sleeping porch)
The last night of the year Blake began telling us a story about how he built an outhouse in Alaska and later he had to take refuge in it from a bear, or something like that. The story isn't important what is important is that it took Blake 3 hours to tell it. We all fell asleep 15 minutes into it. I wake up 3 hours later cause I had to use the bathroom and there is Blake sitting in the recliner in front of my desk looking at the ceiling saying, "I hated building that outhouse and digging that hole, but I must've done a real good job cause the Bear couldn't get me in there."
Blake's the dude flying through the air
"Blake?"
He lowered his chin and looked at me and smiled "Oh hey Chad."
"What are you doing?" I asked
"Telling the Outhouse story."
"Blake we all fell asleep almost 3 hours ago!"
"I know, but I started the story and I couldn't just stop in the middle, so I figured I would just keep going in case anybody woke up and needed me to be here talking."
SPECTACULAR!
If you're interested let me know and I will see if I can't get Blake to come to your house and sit in your room and talk you to sleep. He doesn't stare while you sleep...psychos stare, he's totally professional.
I've known Blake for 4 years now. He has been a house mate, a groomsman, and a dear friend. The most incredible thing about Blake is that he is the most self sacrificing human being you will ever meet in your life. For the longest time I felt he may be too self sacrificing. That has since changed.Throughout the story below I will share some pictures of Blake, I think it iwll add to the emotional connection you will feel towards him. (Starting now)
Blake is most famous for driving girls with boyfriends hundreds of miles to go see their boyfriends. Because of Blake most, if not all, or these girls are now married to the boyfriends Blake drove them to see.
Blake goes out of his way to make your life easier, and more pleasant. The two instances where Blake's self sacrifice has been displayed to me are when he took upon himself as my groomsman to babysit another groomsman who got drunk at my wedding. Nobody wanted to do it, and I don't blame them, but Blake took it upon himself even driving said drunk groomsman home and stopping twice on a 15 mile trip for him to throw up. AWESOME!
Perhaps the greatest though is when I was a Junior in College, Blake was a freshman, and I refused to sleep on the sleeping porch.
To those who don't know a sleeping porch is where everybody that lives in the house sleeps. It always smells TERRIBLE and in the winter is freezing cause the door stays open so it doesn't smell worse. Probably the worst invention ever.
Instead I chose to sleep on the couch in my room. Towards the end of the year I was becoming stressed and having a difficult time sleeping. One night I was laying on the couch and Blake came in and we were talking about nothing in particular, but I remember his voice being so calming that in the middle of the conversation I fell asleep. I have never slept so good in my life!The next night I asked Blake if he wouldn't mind talking me to sleep again. He happily obliged, and I got another great nights sleep. Word began to spread about the deal me and Blake had going. The next night my roommate Marcus slept on the other couch in our room and Blake talked both of us to sleep. By the middle of next week Marcus and I were kicking people were turning people away from sleeping on the floor of our room to listen to Blake talk them to sleep. (We never had more than 4 bodies in the room, otherwise it would have totally defeated the purpose of not sleeping on the sleeping porch)
The last night of the year Blake began telling us a story about how he built an outhouse in Alaska and later he had to take refuge in it from a bear, or something like that. The story isn't important what is important is that it took Blake 3 hours to tell it. We all fell asleep 15 minutes into it. I wake up 3 hours later cause I had to use the bathroom and there is Blake sitting in the recliner in front of my desk looking at the ceiling saying, "I hated building that outhouse and digging that hole, but I must've done a real good job cause the Bear couldn't get me in there."
Blake's the dude flying through the air
"Blake?"
He lowered his chin and looked at me and smiled "Oh hey Chad."
"What are you doing?" I asked
"Telling the Outhouse story."
"Blake we all fell asleep almost 3 hours ago!"
"I know, but I started the story and I couldn't just stop in the middle, so I figured I would just keep going in case anybody woke up and needed me to be here talking."
SPECTACULAR!
If you're interested let me know and I will see if I can't get Blake to come to your house and sit in your room and talk you to sleep. He doesn't stare while you sleep...psychos stare, he's totally professional.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
My Bad
I'm aware it has been over a month since my last post. I am a disgrace to bloggers world wide. But I have a few excuses to share with you. First I've started a new job and it has been an adjustment period, i spend a good chunk of my day behind a computer--which isn't a bad thing--its just that when I get home sitting at a computer regardless of the activity is the last thing I want to do.
B) I've been trying to make it a point to have some catch up time with old friends from college. I almost blogged last week but hung out with my friend Blake instead. I also decided that night that I will blog about Blake sometime in the near future. he is a fascinating human being.
III. I've been sick...real sick! I have a fever...not just any fever...THE fever....The Olympic Fever! I come on home at lunch and spend an hour watching whatever event is on. I watched synchronized diving for an hour two days ago, and for the last 15 minutes I was getting upset with the judges for poor scoring. Earlier tonight after a terrible dive by the Americans I proclaimed to my wife--in all my expertise in synchronized diving--that those guys had no business being in that competition. I immediately hated myself for knowing everything that was wrong with that dive. Other events I've watched that no human being should be passionate about unless you or a family member is participating. Trap Shooting, Doubles Trap Shooting, Kayaking, Crew, Water Polo, and Women's Basketball.
I have enjoyed watching Team handball the most. i took that class three time in college. The teacher loved me. I'm gonna get a little cocky here...I was dominate! Team handball is pretty much basketball and soccer combined, the two sports I play, so naturally my skill set was more advanced then the other people in the class. After watching the Olympics I would have undoubtedly gotten my lunch handed to me. Very humbling.
Since It has been so long between posts I will treat you with this video--completely random--of Demitri Martin who is a comedian who is an all time favorite of mine. Enjoy.
B) I've been trying to make it a point to have some catch up time with old friends from college. I almost blogged last week but hung out with my friend Blake instead. I also decided that night that I will blog about Blake sometime in the near future. he is a fascinating human being.
III. I've been sick...real sick! I have a fever...not just any fever...THE fever....The Olympic Fever! I come on home at lunch and spend an hour watching whatever event is on. I watched synchronized diving for an hour two days ago, and for the last 15 minutes I was getting upset with the judges for poor scoring. Earlier tonight after a terrible dive by the Americans I proclaimed to my wife--in all my expertise in synchronized diving--that those guys had no business being in that competition. I immediately hated myself for knowing everything that was wrong with that dive. Other events I've watched that no human being should be passionate about unless you or a family member is participating. Trap Shooting, Doubles Trap Shooting, Kayaking, Crew, Water Polo, and Women's Basketball.
I have enjoyed watching Team handball the most. i took that class three time in college. The teacher loved me. I'm gonna get a little cocky here...I was dominate! Team handball is pretty much basketball and soccer combined, the two sports I play, so naturally my skill set was more advanced then the other people in the class. After watching the Olympics I would have undoubtedly gotten my lunch handed to me. Very humbling.
Since It has been so long between posts I will treat you with this video--completely random--of Demitri Martin who is a comedian who is an all time favorite of mine. Enjoy.
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