Christmas In August

Last week we left our hero in staff meeting. This week...

Staff meeting was a little rough as we were evaluating my ministry. Everyone was down to business until flames came out of Stan's butt. Patti thought it was because he was naked from the waist down behind his desk. I knew it was the drugs.

The Living Christmas Tree... I mean Barn

We are starting rehearsals for this year's "Living Christmas Tree" which is not really that anymore. It is a Broadway style musical that requires us to build a barn inside our auditorium. I've been listening to the same Christmas CD for eight hours. I would be really excited about it (it is a fantastic musical) but I have a billion things to do. I be excited later.

Renew Your Prescription Every Two Years

If you read my archives in February of 2007 you will find a story of Laura, who works at Taco Bell. To recap, this girl has no eyebrows, looks like a Muppet cause her skin and lips are the same color, is tanned beyond all recognition, and has a look on her face that makes her look like she could star in a movie called "safety scissors." So Eric and I went to Taco Bell to get a... well.. a taco. And of course, I went inside because I will never go through the drive-up since Laura must be writing a book on screwing up my order and the psychological effects. And so when I get in line, sure enough, she is working the drive-up window. We exchange a look that I'm sure Lex Luther and Superman exchange when they see each other at a distance when they show up at the same parties. I whisper to Eric, "That's that girl that I blogged about. The one that hasn't got my order right since January!" Eric replies to me, "Wow, she is hot!"

I slapped him in the face.

I used to blog once a week

For all you long time bloggers out there:
Some time when you are bored (i.e. the server is down for 2 days) look over your archives. They are pretty interesting. Or you can look at my archives... they are spectacular.


Preaching to the choir:
If you can read this, I assume you are at least still interested in the blogging world. I was visiting my friends' links and noticed some bloggers haven't posted in many moons. If you do not respond to this post within thirty seconds of reading it, your link will be deleted, and your crush will never know that you really love them. Your lucky numbers are 56889, and 2.

These People Are Crazy:
Those of you that haven't listened to the podcast "These People Are Crazy" need to get a clue. If you don't have a clue, you could asks Blue for one. We haven't posted a podcast in forever. If you would like to hear more please leave comments on Tyler and Nick's blogs pestering them to podcast. Our goal is 50 comments on each blog. Not necessarily 50 people, but 50 comments, so feel free to leave 49 comments per blog. Ready Go!

My Pledge to You:
I pledge that I will at least think about blogging once a week. That is all.

How Long Can This Go On?

Writing this has been on my list of thing that I "Cannot Do" for awhile now for a number of reasons. But I'm just so sick of it.

I miss her.

I don't mean that this is a recent development. I mean I do miss her, and I have missed her the whole time. I have days that I barely think about it and days like today where I feel like I lost a huge piece of myself. I can feel my heart ache in my chest. How long can this go on?

I just feel like if I pretend long enough that it doesn't bother me that eventually it won't. Maybe she'd date someone else. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. But I pretend it doesn't bother me, cause I don't want to doubt my decision. It was the right decsion. Neither one of us was willing to budge... where can you go like that? So, if I'm not okay and confindent then that leaves room for doubt... and I would rather pretend than allow that. It would be easier if she would just learn to hate me. It's easier to deal with when you are angry. Blame me for giving up. Call me and tell me I'm a bastard. She called and wanted to keep trying, but if she couldn't fully trust me before, how could she now? If she kept one foot out cause she was afraid to get hurt before, how could she be fully in the relationship after this?

I talk about dating other people like it would be fun, but really it's just cheap fun to kill and bury hurt. It's not fun. I don't like being "out there". I'm angry cause she was so damn stubborn! But I could have given in. I was just sick of it. Why was I the one who always had to budge? Why couldn't I just continue and chalk it off to love. "Well, if you love someone, that's it... you just keep working." Is that true? Then why did we both need reasons? Why couldn't we both just do things for eachother because we asked? What was she so afraid of? I was afraid of being my mother: bitter toward my dad cause he never budged, so scared of something that he never expressed love like she did, scared cause he didn't know what he wanted. So, instead of bitter, I'm heart broken. And I have no one to blame but me. I stopped it. Why can't I stop this?

Can I say that? Can I feel like this? Can I believe in my decision and hurt this much? It must be possible, cause here I am. I told myself that someone else wouldn't take me for granted. That someone else would be easier. Together I was so frustrated and hurt that I felt like she kept a piece of herself from me and hid it. But now I have none. Which is better? I'm not sure.

All I know is that I'm not okay.

Surprise, Surprise

Some surprises are great.

"Oh, you didn't know... that's 70% off sir."

Some surprises are less than spectacular.

"Wait a minute... what's in this casserole?"

I just left the McDonald's drive-thru under the impression that I was leaving with a three dollar value meal featuring a double cheese burger, small fries, and medium coke. As I stuck my hand in the bad to eat the fries (those poor fries rarely make the journey home) I felt a packet of sauce. I retrieved the ticket and what was in my possession was a six dollar value meal built around a ten piece nugget and large everything. Great surprise? The only sauce was BBQ.

Any Dick, Jane, or Sally can tell you the only proper sauce to dip McNuggets in is Sweet and Sour sauce. Chicken Selects... sure... get the BBQ sauce or the gourmet honey mustard. But McNuggets are barely chicken and then should only be paired with S&S sauce.

The quality of this surprise is still under speculation.


BTW : There have been some conserns raised about my new template. Is anyone else having problems reading it besides people with Mac's or IBM's made in 1994? It should be a photo on the left and the text should be over black space on the right.

Vacation Days

What should I spend my vacation days on? Lately, I've been trying to get down to Hannibal to visit a family I know there. Every time I bring it up my Dad/Boss says stuff like, "Well, if you work this day you can take 'compensation time' and you don't have to waste your vacation days." When, lets be honest, if I actually took all my 'comp' time nothing would get done.

My vacation days are pretty consistent. Out 14 days (only two can be Sundays) I take 5 to visit my friend Jeff and go snow boarding on the East Coast. I take 2 at Christmas time to go to a hotel with my family.... and that's it. So I have 1 Sunday and 6 days. I would love to go sit on a beach somewhere, but that's not so "awesome" alone. And any snowboarding I do is usually in January - March or I just do with my normal days off during the week. So I still have a week to blow this year. I thought about just going to where ever Southwest Airlines was running a special.

Any suggestions?

Why Not Having Friends Is Expensive

I was taking my parents to the airport this morning at 6AM!!!! and I saw a taxi at the airport that was advertising Aurora to O'Hare $100. I thought that it was almost worth the $100 as I was falling asleep at the wheel. Just think about it. Sometimes having friends is emotionally taxing. Especially when they "bring the drama." But you might consider the financial aspect.

Rides to the airport.
Do you want to hire a taxi or a limo to go to and from the airport in Chicago traffic?

One word: Trucks
Let's face it, if you own a truck, any truck, you are the number one friend of anyone who needs furniture moved. No one wants to pay for a budget truck.

Pizza.
Yes I would like to split a pizza cause after college pizza costs $20 for a small.

Strippers
....

Rent
Living by yourself is expensive.

Also, none of the above things and many others are fun by yourself. Everyone should have a friend that isn't a narc.

Are you a narc?

Not That Anyone Reads My Blog Anymore Anyways

For the love of all that is holy, people!!! Let's talk about your myspace shall we?

One: I might (in the slightest way) be interested in the results of maybe one of the thousands of internet personality tests that tell you what kind of Coke you are, what Lord of the Rings character you are most likely to have a one night stand with, or what kind of kisser you are. However, there is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to post ALL of the results on your page, complete with graphics. After, I stop the bleeding from my eyes and nose, I realize that I will never look at all the information on your page and I leave, only returning when I feel like slapping my self in the face. I don't care what flavor of icey pops you are, and if I want to find out what kind of kisser you are I wouldn't find out on the internet. Have some class.

Two: Picture on Picture crime is starting to be a problem. Stick to the rules of one and not two. As in, have one flash album, one video, one song, and one background photo (usually better if it is unobtrusive). I can just as easily visit your "pics" on your profile. In fact, Tom in all his wisdom has given you separate sections for your pictures and video. I don't need them animated in four different flash programs on your home page. Also, in the "About Me" section... you can just write the names of your favorite TV shows... I trust you that it is a real show... you don't have to prove it with seven pictures.

Threeve: What the H#$% is with your pictures? You look like you are constantly eating extremely sour candy. Smile. That's what people do in pictures. But if that is your "sexy" face... we need to talk. I'd even take a funny face over your myspace face. Or at least change it up. And if you are going to take a picture of yourself, it's okay to do it at an angle that isn't just showing me the top of your head and your one eye. Unless you only have one eye... then, good job... your hair covers the socket nicely. I can only deduce that you are, in fact, four feet tall and have one eye and you are showing me a picture so I will recognize you when I tower over you and look down while we are in the bathroom, next to the mirror.

Four: Stop using heart as a verb. That is all.

Things I was going to blog about but never did.

"Apples to Apples" and "Boxers or Briefs"

You might recognize these titles from the last "20 something" party you went to. They're not really board games, but only because there is no board. I cannot guarantee there will not be any bored. But seriously people, how the games work is that one person either draws a question or just a card with one word on it. Your job as a participant is pick one of the seven cards in your hand that you think matches the question or the one word in the center. Now here is the crazy part... there is no criteria for who then wins. The person who put the question/word in the center just picks which one he/she likes the best. It could be the most accurate, the closest synonym, or the funnest random card. And so here in lies the problem with these games.

These games could and would be the funniest addition to any party of pretend friends and stuffed animals. The problem is that people play these games. And by people I mean people with no taste. And by no taste, I mean no sense of humor. And by people with no taste or sense of humor I mean, my family. Let me expound...

Example: The card was "The greatest invention of the 20th century."
My answer: The electric chair (clearly the funniest answer and pure genius in the timing and that my sister-in-law's 70 year old mother read it)
The winning answer: Cars

This kind of thing went on for hours. With me executing moves like "pudding" "Danny DeVito" "Walks like a girl" and "is clearly drunk" with no winning tokens to show for it. But I persisted, amusing myself and sometimes the other cynics in the room. And by other cynics I mean my mother.... who is crazier than all-get-out.


(sigh) Nobody gets me.

Goldbond, helping men wear leather pants since 1945

Playing electric guitar while wearing kakki pants is like kissing your sister.

Playing electric guitar while wearing leather pants is like slipping the tongue on the first kiss.

I had one of these experiences on Sunday morning. Can you guess which?

Such A Tool

I don't really consider myself the "Mr. Fix-it, tough guy, grease monkey, tool totin'" type of guy. I consider my construction and tool usage knowledge to be... minimal if at all worth noting. I don't own or wear a wife beater. My hands are not calloused. I don't have a goatee. I'm not sporting a barbed wire or loony toons tattoo. And the hair on my arms does not appear darker because of the oil and dirt soaked into it. If I could say it this way; you're more likely to find me getting my nails done, than hammering nails.

However...

in the past five years, I've started to think that my knowledge (while remedial) may be better than I first thought.

Example:
While visiting a house rented by four girls I fixed a door. They were having people over and they have one of those doors that slide back into the wall. It was off the track and stuck half way. While other guys struggled with it, I simply walked outside to my Foreign import car (not my Chevy truck) and got my tool box pulled out my claw hammer and took down the door. The room was silent and the only reply was, "...you mean, you carry tools in your car? You just have them all the time? That is so cool!"

At this house I have also: Assembled furniture, fix light fixtures, repaired trim, and changed tires.

In these past years I have ripped out walls, hung drywall, plastered and painted, replaced a water pump, and changed numerous other car parts.

I'm starting to wonder if mechanical, construction and carpentry skills are just inherent in the male gene? Anyone need an addition put on their house?