Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
My 7th grade school resource officer would be proud.
I was approached last night, as I was exiting Cooper Hall on campus, by a classmate of mine. We were making idle chit-chat and whatnot when the conversation steered into a rather......undecisive, direction.
Me: I never realized that was her twin until a few weeks ago, I spotted her sitting outside of the classroom and then I walked inside and saw her there too! I was like, ‘whoa, that’s weird’. It tripped me out.
Him: I know, right?
Me: Uh-huh
Him: [Telling some story about the vines that are snaking up his fathers house and looking at them and I have no fucking clue, because by this time I have completely tuned this guy out and am thinking about why I decided to fall in step with this douchewad.]
Me: Uh-huh
[Now he has stopped and is looking at me, clearing having asked me a question to which I did not answer. And cannot answer because I have not heard a word homeboy said since ‘right?’]
Me: Huh?
Him: What’s your feelings on those?
Me: Whats my feelings on what?
Him: Psychedelics?
Me: [thinking maybe this is some new band I have not yet heard of] Uh, no opinion?
Him: [raises eyebrow] Oh, uh……
Me: [Quickly changing my course of direction] Huh. Uh. Okay well see ya next week!
I walked away a little befuddled. Was I really just solicited to participate in some mind-altering freak fest with this crazy kid who I had just met? Is there some alternative meaning for psychedelic, like, is it code for say ‘pumpkin spiced latte’? Should I be at all concerned that he was carrying a rather large block of wood he had swiped from somewhere on campus?
Well, lets put it to a vote.
[EDIT: The polling mechanism is not working right now (AHEM! Blogger team). Unfortunatly, you cannot cast your vote. I will however, be accepting absentee ballots. ]
Me: I never realized that was her twin until a few weeks ago, I spotted her sitting outside of the classroom and then I walked inside and saw her there too! I was like, ‘whoa, that’s weird’. It tripped me out.
Him: I know, right?
Me: Uh-huh
Him: [Telling some story about the vines that are snaking up his fathers house and looking at them and I have no fucking clue, because by this time I have completely tuned this guy out and am thinking about why I decided to fall in step with this douchewad.]
Me: Uh-huh
[Now he has stopped and is looking at me, clearing having asked me a question to which I did not answer. And cannot answer because I have not heard a word homeboy said since ‘right?’]
Me: Huh?
Him: What’s your feelings on those?
Me: Whats my feelings on what?
Him: Psychedelics?
Me: [thinking maybe this is some new band I have not yet heard of] Uh, no opinion?
Him: [raises eyebrow] Oh, uh……
Me: [Quickly changing my course of direction] Huh. Uh. Okay well see ya next week!
I walked away a little befuddled. Was I really just solicited to participate in some mind-altering freak fest with this crazy kid who I had just met? Is there some alternative meaning for psychedelic, like, is it code for say ‘pumpkin spiced latte’? Should I be at all concerned that he was carrying a rather large block of wood he had swiped from somewhere on campus?
Well, lets put it to a vote.
[EDIT: The polling mechanism is not working right now (AHEM! Blogger team). Unfortunatly, you cannot cast your vote. I will however, be accepting absentee ballots. ]
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Put me in coach.
Cannot. Think. Watching. Presidential. Deabate. Brain. Bleeding. Out. Ears. Not. Good. Joe. Plummer. Huh?.
Gah!
Brae, take over.
Hi everywone!,
Remember last Saturday was my first soccer game? And how I didn't play because I was so scared of going out on the field without my mom lassoed to my hip? And then she got really, really mad at me because I was projecting my anger and upset onto her in an aggressive manner?
Guess who wasn't projecting this week?!
It could have been the new found sense of confidence I acquired in the 7 days between games. It could have been the six Red Bulls I slammed in the truck bed of my Pappy's Ford right before going out on the field. Whatever the cause of my anagnorisis, it was enough to get my ass out onto the green where it belonged. I was MOTIVATED and EXCITED to play. And when running in the correct direction on the field, I was a MENACE in size 9 Adidas.
I am not playing for the wrong team. I have infiltrated the enemy's ranks by posing as one of their own.
Not quite sure what 'Sally Screwy Face' was doing out there, other than seriously cramping my style. Take notice of my fancy cross-foot action if you will.
Ouff! Body checked by #9. Watch it goldie.
And now a moment of reprieve: This grass is remarkably green. Thats good. I would expect nothing less from a church whose congregation rivals Disney World cast members in numbers.
This ref is not amused by my mid-field Riverdance. A bet a kilt would have changed his mind.
Well played, Team Silver. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Gogurt and Capri Sun waiting for me back on the sidelines.
Gah!
Brae, take over.
Hi everywone!,
Remember last Saturday was my first soccer game? And how I didn't play because I was so scared of going out on the field without my mom lassoed to my hip? And then she got really, really mad at me because I was projecting my anger and upset onto her in an aggressive manner?
Guess who wasn't projecting this week?!
It could have been the new found sense of confidence I acquired in the 7 days between games. It could have been the six Red Bulls I slammed in the truck bed of my Pappy's Ford right before going out on the field. Whatever the cause of my anagnorisis, it was enough to get my ass out onto the green where it belonged. I was MOTIVATED and EXCITED to play. And when running in the correct direction on the field, I was a MENACE in size 9 Adidas.
I am not playing for the wrong team. I have infiltrated the enemy's ranks by posing as one of their own.
Not quite sure what 'Sally Screwy Face' was doing out there, other than seriously cramping my style. Take notice of my fancy cross-foot action if you will.
Ouff! Body checked by #9. Watch it goldie.
And now a moment of reprieve: This grass is remarkably green. Thats good. I would expect nothing less from a church whose congregation rivals Disney World cast members in numbers.
This ref is not amused by my mid-field Riverdance. A bet a kilt would have changed his mind.
Well played, Team Silver. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Gogurt and Capri Sun waiting for me back on the sidelines.
Friday, October 10, 2008
What up, Stephenie Meyer?
First off, you can thank facebook for my readership. You were a tiny blip on the map until that thing got a hold of you and then HOLY SHIT were you strung into thousand of pieces of 'flair' and 'bumper stickers' across the profiles of every hormonal adolescent with access to the Internet.
At first, I was confused by the sudden crop of Twilight buttons and paraphernalia and had mistaken you for that vampire series on HBO.
which I later learned is True Blood and oh, hi, HBO people? Will you please release that thing out on DVD when you get a chance? Some of your viewers are unable to tap into your channels illegally anymore and would really enjoy watching it. Thanks.
Yet my wicked googling detective skillz turned you up and within days I was at Borders with the first book in my hand. I figured anything that produced that amount of teenage hysteria was something I would undoubtedly be interested in.
And like many before me, I was sucked into the vampire lit with amazing force. It was queer- the emotions I had for it. I liked it and yet hated it all the same. The characters were just....'eh' the plot was.....'eh' and truth be told, Edward was a complete fucking tool. Yet still you managed to keep me awake night after night, reading from the flashlight strapped to my forehead. You know, I skipped out on some very useful studying time to catch up with Bella and that bi-polar control freak, guy you hate to love, dude she should have never fallen for.
And then you just went and pissed me off. For starters-
1) Breaking Dawn + Jacob = Pussy. You stripped my favorite character of his balls in the final moments. Not cool.
2) Those balls you stole from Jacob? You could have at least lent them to Bella. Because, DUDE....
3) RENESME?!?!?! W.T.F. I will blame you for the sudden trend of douchey combination names this will inspire. And so will Brae. I mean Jeffasey.
4) The actors they chose for your movie. Poo poo. A seriously shitty selection. Lets examine this:
THAT is Edward?! That's all you got? All the incessant whining about souls and uber manipulative behavior that Bella stuck through was for Cedric Diggory here? DISAPPOINT.
As for the rest of the entourage? Grrr. I can name at least ten different actors for each role who would be better suited. Granted they would require a small fortune and the promise of your first born to participate in the film, but STILL.
All I'm saying is that Jacob better be HOT.
We're fucked.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Four.
Four is a difficult age.
That's not to say that two wasn't terrible or three wasn't hell. But someone once told me it wasn't the terrible two's you had to worry about, it was the 'fucking fours' and I agree.
With four comes a whole new level of awareness. Suddenly, the world is your oyster and every adult on the planet is clearly only a pawn in your game of life. They are there for service, of course, and any breech in adult compliance to any of your requests must be met with severe punishment.
Preferred methods of adult punishment include, but are not limited to;
That's not to say that two wasn't terrible or three wasn't hell. But someone once told me it wasn't the terrible two's you had to worry about, it was the 'fucking fours' and I agree.
With four comes a whole new level of awareness. Suddenly, the world is your oyster and every adult on the planet is clearly only a pawn in your game of life. They are there for service, of course, and any breech in adult compliance to any of your requests must be met with severe punishment.
Preferred methods of adult punishment include, but are not limited to;
- Throwing yourself dramatically on the floor and floundering about; the more public the arena, the better!
- Proclaiming your new hatred of the adult, you don't love them! It was all a ruse!
- Throwing whatever object may be in your hand at the time of adult non-compliance hoping to hit something or better yet..... someone!
- Kicking the back of a car seat, the bedroom door, the nearest dachshund.
- Informing the adult that they are no longer your friend. Take that!
The fucking fours. I'll tell ya, enough crazy in them to send you running headfirst into the nearest brick wall.
He's lucky I love him.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Lego my.....leg
He asked for two toaster waffles.
On a normal day he wants one.
Some days he eats something completely random for breakfast, like a half-cup of corn chips.
Other days he balks at the idea of ingesting something and lumbers around the living room with a face like a Manhattan socialite whose coffee has not yet finished percolating.
This morning though, he polished off the first Eggo in ten seconds and demanded another.
I should have known.
We talked it up a lot.
"Honey, you are SUCH a big boy playing soccer now! Look at you with your big boy shin guards built right into the sock! And brand new cleats, those are some damn good looking cleats! You are going to have so much fun! SO.MUCH.FUN. Can you imagine it? The fun you are going to have? Because you are you know, going to have that fun. All you gotta do is just GET.OUT.ON.THE.FIELD. Just make it to the field."
Well.
He did not get out on the field. Not for the game anyway. Oh, the practice the night before the game, he played the shit out of that field. Aside from a few minor incidents involving roughing a member of his own team, he did awesome. He listened. He attempted at times to kick the ball and was seemingly having the time of his life. I was so excited.
The next morning he asked for two toaster waffles and every subsequent event following the digestion of that second waffle found me digging my fingernails into the soft padding of my palm.
Immediately after arriving on the field I could sense the tension in tiny body spread, right down the tips of his fingers that clutched mine with crippling force. It was intimidating. The practice that he had attended the night before was on a different field, with only the children from his team present. This was totally different. There were LOTS of kids and not just on his field. The fields were packed and each one contained multi-colored chaos.
Begrudgingly, he allowed me to take off the shirt that he had arrived in to change into the team jersey. And THAT was where the compliance ended. The coach called the team together for some pre-game praying action and Brae wouldn't budge. Then the team lined up on the side of the field, the first group of players marched out into the green and Brae lassoed himself to my leg.
'Um, Brae? Don't you want to play soccer today'
'Wait, whats today?'
'Saturday, you know GAME DAY, Saturday'
'I'll play on Sunday'
'Well, NO you wont play on Sunday'
'Why not?!'
'Because your games are held on Saturday, you have to play on Saturday. Today. Right now. Are you planning on detaching yourself from my calf anytime soon?'
He was not.
And that was how our first soccer game went down. Sidelined ridden, we watched as the rest of the kids on team Nova laughed and kicked their way around the field as I held a weeping pre-schooler who couldn't decide if the benefits of joining in on their reindeer games outweighed the cost of cutting the cord between us. In the end it did not.
Next week we'll try again. With one waffle.
On a normal day he wants one.
Some days he eats something completely random for breakfast, like a half-cup of corn chips.
Other days he balks at the idea of ingesting something and lumbers around the living room with a face like a Manhattan socialite whose coffee has not yet finished percolating.
This morning though, he polished off the first Eggo in ten seconds and demanded another.
I should have known.
We talked it up a lot.
"Honey, you are SUCH a big boy playing soccer now! Look at you with your big boy shin guards built right into the sock! And brand new cleats, those are some damn good looking cleats! You are going to have so much fun! SO.MUCH.FUN. Can you imagine it? The fun you are going to have? Because you are you know, going to have that fun. All you gotta do is just GET.OUT.ON.THE.FIELD. Just make it to the field."
Well.
He did not get out on the field. Not for the game anyway. Oh, the practice the night before the game, he played the shit out of that field. Aside from a few minor incidents involving roughing a member of his own team, he did awesome. He listened. He attempted at times to kick the ball and was seemingly having the time of his life. I was so excited.
The next morning he asked for two toaster waffles and every subsequent event following the digestion of that second waffle found me digging my fingernails into the soft padding of my palm.
Immediately after arriving on the field I could sense the tension in tiny body spread, right down the tips of his fingers that clutched mine with crippling force. It was intimidating. The practice that he had attended the night before was on a different field, with only the children from his team present. This was totally different. There were LOTS of kids and not just on his field. The fields were packed and each one contained multi-colored chaos.
Begrudgingly, he allowed me to take off the shirt that he had arrived in to change into the team jersey. And THAT was where the compliance ended. The coach called the team together for some pre-game praying action and Brae wouldn't budge. Then the team lined up on the side of the field, the first group of players marched out into the green and Brae lassoed himself to my leg.
'Um, Brae? Don't you want to play soccer today'
'Wait, whats today?'
'Saturday, you know GAME DAY, Saturday'
'I'll play on Sunday'
'Well, NO you wont play on Sunday'
'Why not?!'
'Because your games are held on Saturday, you have to play on Saturday. Today. Right now. Are you planning on detaching yourself from my calf anytime soon?'
He was not.
And that was how our first soccer game went down. Sidelined ridden, we watched as the rest of the kids on team Nova laughed and kicked their way around the field as I held a weeping pre-schooler who couldn't decide if the benefits of joining in on their reindeer games outweighed the cost of cutting the cord between us. In the end it did not.
Next week we'll try again. With one waffle.
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