So I was playing Disc Golf with Nick the other day... we were talking about our blogs and I was telling him the background behind this past entry. He told me I should have told the whole story about the dressing room attendant. He is so focused on relationships, while I just want to complain about my pants... but here it goes.
So I was in Hollister looking for clothes with ear plugs and a flashlight when I heard a certain song coming over the stereo. I recognized it, but couldn't place the band or song title. I had heard it two days before and couldn't get it out of my head. So by this point it was maddening. So I exited the store and proceeded to American Eagle on my quest to find pants.
After trying on a few things, I finally found these great pants. I took them back to the dressing rooms and the cute girl who was the attendant unlocked a room for me. She was very sweet and seemed to be a very nice girl. I was just getting undressed when that stupid song came over the stereo. I threw my pants back on and stumbled out of my dressing room in a panic. I found the dressing room girl and as if I was talking to a 911 operator said, "Quick! I'm not crazy, but I have to know who sings this song! It's been in my head for three days and I've heard it 4 times today! I have to know!" She was half amused and half alarmed when she said, "Okay, I know what you mean." She winced like she was cutting the blue wire, "I don't know who sings this, (I sigh) but I'll watch to see." She pointed to a giant TV behind me which was playing the music video to the song.
Now realizing how ridiculous this was and wondering how I had missed the giant TV on the wall, I back tracked, "Oh, sorry... I didn't see... well didn't realize... wow that's convenient... well, you don't have to bother, I'll watch it. " She replied, "Are you sure?" "Yeah I'm okay," I said. So I stood there and watched the rest of the video. Unfortunately, her station was... there. So we just stood in silence waiting for the video to end. It did. The band is Gratitude. The song is Drive Away. So I back up into the dressing rooms, "It's Gratitude... the band." She gives me a "isn't he special" smile. So I disappear for about 30 seconds and have to return to her because while I had run out to here the song I locked the dressing room door behind me. Once in the dressing room I realized the pants I liked where button fly and shouted out loud, "ah, I hate you pants!" Then I heard her laugh and realized I said it out loud.
So I got back into my own clothes, as this whole episode happen while wearing the clothes I was trying on. I exited the dressing room and tried to avoid "her." She stops me and says, "So did everything work out okay?" Trust me at this point I would have bought half the store just to get out of there. I told her that the pants fit great and tried one more time to explain that I wasn't crazy, but it came out, "yeah the pants are great... I'm sorry about the thing... I didn't mean to... I'm not really that nuts... I... I'm going to go buy this jeans... thanks for... uh... yeah."
and that's the rest of the story.
The Rest of The Story
D*** You Button Fly!
This one's for the boys.
Do you remember back to about second or third grade? I remember going into the boys bathroom and dropping my pants down around my ankles to pee at the urinal. Then I learned that big boys only open the pants but don't drop them. And as I have grown in wisdom these past 24 years, I have perfected the art of just unzipping the fly and peeing with as little exposure as possible. This is, in fact, good bathroom etiquette in the men's room.
But I must admit, I'm at a loss when it comes to the button fly. I don't understand it. It boggles my mind that someone thinks that oversized buttons are better than zippers. I admit, there are occasions for buttons. The crotch is never one of them. But lately, every time I pick up a pair of jeans that I like... sure enough, they're button fly. It's actually made it onto my top ten list of things that annoy me. And that's saying something.
It's just a ridiculous concept. I'm afraid to go out in public in my jeans. What if I have to pee?! I went to the movies the other night and as soon as the movie was over, I had to empty the two Mountain Dews I drank. So I proceed to the crowded bathroom and tried to undo the gargantuan pinball bumpers that are keeping my pants in the appropriate position. I would have had better luck with a combination lock. I started to get angry at my pants . It's always embarrassing to be fussing with your pants in public and yelling at your groin, "come on you stupid..." You can't maneuver your hands right to just open the middle buttons. So with my pants bolted down, I proceeded to unbutton from the top down. I might as well just dropped them down to my ankles.
And once again, yesterday I found myself in the dressing room. I had found the perfect pair of pants. I got them back to the dressing room and a small piece of me died in that dressing room. On the inside I screamed, "Noooooooooo, D*** You Button Fly!" And actually, audibly said, "Crap! I hate you jeans!" This made for interesting small talk between myself and the dressing room attendant. Did you know that the more you try to explain that you aren't crazy... the crazier you sound? I now know that. And knowing is half the battle.
Oh Yeah... I remember now... I'm not cool.
So I've become a bit more metro-sexual since I moved back near the city. My new look is the suit jacket with the jeans. Of coarse if the "suit jacket me" met the "punk rock me" back in high school I'm pretty sure I'd kick my A$$, just on principle.
So, a few weeks ago I went to dinner with my friends Eric and Bivens. We were exiting Red Robin with our stomachs filled with burgers and strawberry lemonade (mmmm) when in one deft motion I nodded goodbye to the cute girl at the door, eased the door open with my foot, and put on my sunglasses without breaking stride. Eric, being the smart-elict we all have come to love, says to me, "Wow... Luke... you are almost too cool." This has since become a running gag that every time I do... well... anything Eric says, "He's so cool." Coupled with the fact that usually I have quite a large libido (ego) and my regular walk has been deemed a "strut" I can never escape the accusation.
Ah, but then reality sets in. You see, I can nod at girls all day long. I can wear cool clothes and do cool things as long as you are about fifty yards from me and don't speak. The other day I talked to a girl on the phone and was vividly reminded that "cool Luke" may be an alter ego. This girl called and I was 16 again. I would make jokes that really didn't make sense unless you could see the facial gestures and hand movements that go with them (and I thank God she didn't see them). It was one of those conversations that words just come out and you think "oh crap, did I just say that." I have no game. I have no skills. I was asked recently for relationship advice by a friend and when I told them they should ask someone else because I couldn't seem to hold a relationship they replied, "I know, but your theories are sound... you know... those who can't do teach." Today's lesson was brought to you by the number 12 and the letters "F" and "U".
I can be confident as all get out, but when it comes to this girl it feels like when your playing basketball and you mean to go right or fake right and go left, no fake right then left and fake left again, then do a spin move... but all you really do is make a weird face, jiggle your shoulders and fall down.
So I hung up the phone and just realized, "Oh yeah... I remember now... I'm not cool."
Already Sick of Summer
I really need a hobbie for the summer. In the past I enjoyed the summer sun by cutting wood, mowing grass, or going to the drive-in with my friends. I never remember having to find things to do as I was usually working two jobs and doing chores in the summer. Now its different. I get off work and since I don't mow the grass, have another job, or do chores... I find myself needing an outdoor hobbie.
I'm looking for a new adventure. I love snowboarding and now being so close to Wilmont, Cascade, and Wasaw I have no doubt that I will be plenty busy this winter. But what about the summer? Is there something to do in the summer that is exciting? Do I need a motorcycle? Should I join a league? Play softball? I'm already sick of summer. Bring on the snow.
Unions and Reunions
At this point I am sure that the act of marriage produces a euphoric pheromone that has many of the same effects as alcohol or LSD. Jason got married Saturday and I feel like I just came off an acid trip or like it was all just one long drunken stupor. The whole process feels like a dream and yet I know it happened. I remember being happy and sad and worried and I think their was cake...
It's just such a mix of things going on. Like I was happy to see Mikey but was disappointed cause I remembered I missed his and Courtney's wedding cause I was in MO. I saw Tom and Jennifer, Neil and Amy, Kyle Wolf, Derek Reid, and I was really glad to see them but I missed them and realized I'm terrible at keeping up with old friends. I also realized I know a lot of people.
Its so much to take in. When you catch up with people there are relatives that have died, career changes, relationship drama, and the whole time I'm just hoping that I don't screw up someone else's big day. One weekend feels like a year with old friends. One person in particular I really wanted to catch up with... but we said like 5 words to each other.
It is just a very surreal experience. If I ever get married I think I'm going to elope. Then I can remind myself that it wasn't a dream by waking up next to the woman I love.... and having "the sex."
That sick feeling in your stomach
I almost had two anxiety attacks past week. One was from playing Doom 3 on X-box. I nearly had a heart attack at one point. It may be the most scary game I've ever played. There are just too many dark corners.
The second was a long time coming. I've been praying for the past year and a half for something that was missing in my life. I have always prided myself on having the ability to objectify anything. I can take myself out of something personally and talk about it like its just business. I have also developed some pretty thick skin. If someone said something hurtful to me rather than be hurt, I would just hurt them right back but take it up a notch to tell them to back off. I know just what buttons to push. On my personality test I scored 39 out of 100 on Mercy and Sensitivity. So I began praying for God to make me more "in touch with my feelings." unfortunately, God answers prayers.
I never realized how many feelings I would never allow myself to experience because they feel so crappy. I mean there are some great feelings out there, but it seems that some of them are almost unbearable. This is really scary for me. Over one year, I went from being a calloused A-hole, to feeling things very deeply.
The other night I watched the movie "The Notebook" with my parents. This is one of the best movies I've ever seen. And in the movie there was at least three points that were just heart wrenching. It was a freaking movie but I felt such deep emotion that my heart hurt and I started to cry. The logical side kicked in and I told myself, "It is stupid to cry over a movie" and "You don't want your parents to see you cry." like it is some kind of weakness. So I choked it down three times. By the third time I wanted to throw up, because now it hurts when it used to be very easy to just not feel it.
It's kind of a catch 22. I use the example (not that I'm bitter) but Molly was helping me and encouraging me to feel more, but at the same time she was used to me not being hurt by comments. So we would joke and she would say something that hurt my feelings and I would say to myself, "Why in the world would I want to feel this?" But then when I held Macy (friend's newborn baby) I loved that feeling. So it just sucks, but not.
The Teacher...
I have just read Tyler's blog post that is about cursive writing and oppressive teachers. I started to comment, but then had an epiphany and had to write a blog in response to the post.
As I started to think back on my teachers, I realized something weird and disturbing. I don't know if I was just lucky, or if I was just that nerdy. I loved my teachers. Well, not Mr. Stoyak. But I have had crush after crush on my teachers.
1st grade -- Mrs. Sparks would have us line up at the door everyday before we went home. On the way out the door she would whisper in each child's ear something encouraging, give us a hug, and have us kiss her on the check. I was in love. It broke my heart in 2nd grade to see those stupid 1st graders lining up at the door.
3rd-5th -- Mrs. Kelly was our music teacher. I was not in choir because I enjoyed singing "Under the Sea." She was the first person to teach me to sit quietly while the music of great composers washed over me. She would ruffle my hair when I did something right. Then I moved to Plano and my music teacher was a hag who made us listen to "Purple People Eater."
High School -- Mrs. Perini was our media arts teacher. She was hot, wore ripped jeans to school, and was a lot of fun. She helped with the senior play and in between performances the cast was partying and Mrs. Perini danced on top of one of the desks. Wow!
High School -- Mrs. Murray. Jeff and I signed up for Term Paper class. She would try to get the boys in the class to work harder by being flirtaceous and cute. I was in love, but still didn't work very hard because the class was easy.
College -- Holly (Kurka) Zehr. She made me reconsider poetry. She was my IDS section leader. She could give me a "C" on my paper, but write such nice things in the margin I didn't mind the poor grade. If she had not become Mrs. Zehr I would have stayed in college longer.
I miss school. What is wrong with me?
I think I just wet my pants
Yesterday was Mother's Day. I'm glad everyone had fun at their nice little dinners and tea times. We (Josh, Christy, Dad, Mom, me) packed up the car and went to Six Flags Great America. All I can say about this experience is "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
If you ever wonder when the best day to go to Six Flags is, it's Mother's Day. The longest we had to wait in line was 10 minutes at Super Man. We practically had the whole park to ourselves. This, like everything in life, had it's good and bad points. Given that we could walk on every ride we took advantage of this right off the bat. We rode Superman, Batman, V2, and Iron Wolf before we realized we were all about to throw up. Riding 4 coasters in under 40 minutes is not advisable.
So we started taking it easy and pretending to stand in line. We would sit down outside a ride for 20 minutes, then ride it. We also rode some tame rides like: the log ride, SPLASH WATER FALLS, and the fudge shop. Needless to say, we were done with the whole park in about 3 hours.
Probably the best part of my day was when we first arrived at Six Flags, we all went to use the restroom. I walked up to an open urinal and... uh... proceeded. My dad came up to the urinal next to me and lets out a rather loud, "AAaaaaaaahhhhhhhh." All ten men in the bathroom turn to look and then immediately exit. I'm trying really hard to control my laughter so I don't pee all over the wall. My dad looks at me, shrugs his shoulders and says, "What?!?" It then occurred to me that he didn't have his hearing aids in and probably doesn't know how loud he "Ahhh"ed. Poor guy.
Happy Mother's Day
The Professional Groomsman Secrets
HOW TO MAKE AN EMERGENCY RING
You will need the foil wrapper from a stick of chewing gum and a piece of tape. For a man's ring, use an entire wrapper; for a woman's ring, use a wrapper that has been cut in half lengthwise.
1. Remove the gum from the foil wrapper. Discard or chew the gum.
2. Smooth the foil on a flat surface. Flatten all wrinkles and folds.
3. Refold the wrapper lengthwise. Follow the existing crease lines and fold each of the longer sides up to meet in the middle, leaving the short ends unfolded.
4. Fold the wrapper in half lengthwise. The seams will be hidden in the middle.
5. Fold one end into a point.
6. Insert the point into the fold.
7. Fit the strip around your finger in the shape of a ring. Size the ring to a comfortable fit.
8. Secure the ring with a small piece of tape.
BE AWAREIf a gum wrapper is not available, or if you prefer a different color ring, you can use paper money. Select foreign currencies for a more dramatic palate. Other options (cut to fit) include candy bar wrappers, aluminum foil, writing paper, or bank checks.