There's a thankful post coming
but for now please endure my momentary and passing disappointment with my existence-
I have not as of yet:
run faster than 4:17.97 over 1600 meters,
become a drummer,
written anything other than this ridiculous blog,
befriended new people in D.C. (a few, but this is my list, not yours),
been to Ben's Chili Bowl,
"worked on my resume",
followed my dream--found my dream for that matter,
taken a shower today,
kicked any bad habits,
lived this day like it was my last,
crowd-surfed,
taken a ride in a hot air balloon,
learned another banjo song,
finished this list.

Prefontaine, postfontaine

Watching the animals
An octupus huddle over her unfertilized eggs,
a cheetah stumble on a rock,
a silverback turn around and glare,
a tiger leap onto and over a wall,
a serval stalk,
children sulk,
an elephant scold,
a panda munch,
and a woman pound on the glass because the ape was rude.

Sure lady, the ape was rude.

Free zoos on chilly November days are very different from the field trips I remember-- lonelier, quieter, and colder.

It almost makes me thirsty thinking about it
Two guys should not have so many stylish drinking glasses. Do I drink from the classy square glass glasses? or the kitchy green goblets? or perhaps the juice glasses with the cute little frog patch? or maybe my dear departed grandma's liquor tumblers? Are those really tumblers, anyway? No? How about the minty green bathroom cups or a good old Shakespeare's cup? A mug is more your style? Big, blue and outdoorsy or delicate and glass?

Support your friendly local farm
wafflemakers.

Maybe Julie didn't realize I was kidding. Then again, maybe I too will donate to julieloveswaffles@hotmail.com. Just because farm-animal shaped waffles sound so gooooood.

You remember lust, don't you?
It rattles around in your brain distracting you from the task at hand. It makes life a little more difficult. You can't quite concentrate on your meal because someone's hand moved 6 cm in your direction. You know- lust. It replaces conversation starters like "how's the weather?" "how are you?" and "hi" with "make-out with me" "Yes, we can cuddle" and "hmm. soft lips." LUST. It makes you just a little crazier than you already were and when you try to avoid it, it just stores itself up so it can hit you even harder the next time.

There you go. Now you remember.

of mice and men, emotionally
Sometimes I feel like Lenny.
Sometimes I feel like the little bunny.

A bar is a bar
Never having been to a "gay bar" before, I figured it would be a strange, even unsettling experience. Not so, my friend. I observed the dance floor for quite a while and saw the same old things- guys pushed up against the walls just kind of leering, guys who obviously wanted to be on the dance floor but were too scared to ask, couples that looked good together, and couples that looked silly. It was all quite familiar. As a bar it still smelled like smoke and alcohol. The only strange part was that at this bar I felt no pressure. There was no one I wanted to dance with. Half the women there were drag queens and the other four weren't my type.

I'm not comfortable in the bar scene, but I was less uncomfortable at this bar than most I've visited. I was still too intimidated to karaoke. One new thing at a time...

At this moment I need two things
1. Art (cool-funky, 70s, eames?) to hang above the Ultra-Lounge.
2. A song to sing when I karaoke.

Maybe not at this exact moment.

Thanks, Sweden
Trying to fuse function, style and wackiness is no easy task. And once again, I think I have managed to just miss. With a little help from IKEA I have raised my "Star Trek coffee table" to the level (figuratively and literally) of "Star Trek kitchen table". Slide a couple of green naugahyde chairs under the "wings" and you've got yourself a regular funky kitchen. I can't stop there, so I have also placed the famous green naugahyde "Ultra-Lounge" couch along the wall and added the bright pink afghan for additional style points. It is both hideous and beautiful. The wall cries out for some green/brown/yellow 70s wall art.

I would also like to thank my carriage housemate Reuben for putting up with my eccentric tastes.

'Tis November
the month of dotopian birth and the year anniversary of making a decent wage at the AARP. That 11th month filled with love and heartbreak often in the same instant. This November I'm returning to KC for some turkey, so if you live there and you're going to be around that weekend of the Pilgrims and Indians and sweet potatoes perhaps we could get together and hug and say, "my, it's been far too long since I saw you last. You look great. I'm glad to see you're so happy. Let's frolic."

Post-It Notes of Quotes
In my stuff I found the following quotes:

-Love. A papercut on my heart. alexander

-We are never so defenceless against suffering as when we love, never so helplessly unhappy as when we have lost our loved object or its love. freud

-Love is desire for possessions. Courtship is combat, mating is mastery. nietzche

-Love is expensive and it's free. fastball

-Love is Happy Poison. ball

-I found what I don't care about, and it's everything. dalke

Had pie been delivered to my door,
my 5 p.m. prayers would've been answered.

Julie, people. Not Kiera.

At least I can make her eyes twinkle
I may have been a touch disappointed by the photo gallery at loveactually.com but the twinkling made it ok.

I want pie. And I miss Julie.

Go on. Have a sip.
Better than a bourbon and sassier than sassafrass, she's joined the masses- It's time for a refreshing spoonful of Temporary Wisdom. I need it on your link list ASAP, so I can get my dose everyday.

Two lovely thumbs up
I liked Love Actually.
After all it had,
-Kiera. Ah Kiera. So beautiful. So British.
-Hugh grant dancing.
-Romance
-love
-heartbreak
-ridiculously cute children
-a brilliant cast
-laughs
-cute women in addition to the aforementioned Knightley.
-very funny, charming blokes.
-I think she starred in Pirates of the.... and Bend it like...someone

What? I'm not biased.

I want to leave knowing you are better off than when I came
said my mom.
Well, I certainly have more than when you came, so by America's standards I must be better off.
I replied.

Come home, roomie
I'm afraid that my parents have scared poor little Reuben away.

Mental image for U
It looks like a monster came to my house and vomited all my material possesions.

Last of the Mohicans got me thinking that I want to love passionately and die honorably.
Instead I am going to blog obsessively and cry the tears that don't fall.

The sound of taking the stairs as fast as you can is one of the best sounds in the world. You get that rhythm going thump, thumpthumpthumpthump......thump, thumpthumpthumpthump......thumpding, thumpthumpthumpthump... with gaps when you jump the last two steps and the occasional ring of a whacked banister. It feels so good to just attack the descent. You really start to feel it in your quads and shins and your little wingtips are smacking the steps as fast as they can go. And even if it hurts a little bit, you don't care because not only are you getting somewhere fast, but you're doing it with child-like zeal.

Old man sitting on the front porch

In my day we didn't have weblogs. We used journals and we only wrote in them when we had something to say. None of this willy-nilly sissy stuff about feelings and the like. Why, I bet Thomas Jefferson is rolling over in his grave with you kids and your pursuit of happiness. When I was young if we wanted happiness, we WORKED FOR IT. It didn't come on a stinkin' silver platter. You kids today are so spoiled with your DSL and your fancy smancy Interent. If Al Gore was dead, he'd be rolling over in his grave knowing what you've done to the web. Your high speed access doesn't impress me a lick. Why you just waste more time in more places without tying up the phone lines. When I was a kid we could tie up the phone lines for 15 minutes and that was that. We weren't carrying on with our abbreviated "Instant Message conversations" or our "electronic mail". We got mail the old fashioned way- never at all, unless Grandma sent us a card by the U.S. Postal Service. And we got our phone calls at one number because that's all anybody had. And people memorized those numbers. So, DO NOT think for a moment that I am about to abandon the "wire" phone, as NPR has taken to calling the good old fashioned phone service. I don't care what number you can put with your cell phone; I don't want one of those dadgummed things flubbin' up my life. If you can't get in touch with me, maybe you should just wait . I'm bound to come home sometime. That's what we used to do and we got along just fine. Better than fine, because we didn't have all those silly people chattering to themselves on our streets, or if we did we knew they belonged at the asylum. (grumble, grumble, grumble.)

Pee Wee's Wonderful Italian Wedding of Doom
Context, Schmontext, I always say.

Post script in blogger becomes a pre script
I like my 'rents. I'm excited to see them. I'm just nervous. He's nervous and he's got New York City. I've just got the D of C. Which is slighty more exotic than the KC, but not much under my direction. I would like to get to the Escalator and moving sidewalk exhibit. I hear it rises above expectations and whisks you to new heights. I did hear that some of the sections were downers, however, I'm sure it is all quite moving.

The 'rents are coming. The 'rents are coming.
Take cover.

What should we do?
If you deal in people, you've probably had some variation of the "What should we do?" conversation. I find that one of three things usually happen at the end of this conversation.
1. One person is really happy with the answer.
2. Everyone is at least sort of agreeable to the answer.
3. No one is happy with the answer.

Last night, after a long and not too wordy debate, the answer to the above question was, "Watch something."
But what? After going through the video/dvd collection the parties involved were able to narrow the field down to 4 finalists. In no particular order we agreed that we would be willing to watch one of these:
-Coming to America
-Notting Hill
-Pulp Fiction
-Buffy, some episode(s) of the first 4 seasons

We found the variety to be quite amusing.

It's a wacked out exercise in dotopian demographics

This forward has been making the rounds recently. It's a little twist on the old "tell me about you" email; it's a tell me about me email. I'm throwing in a Twist on top of the twist because that's what I do. I'm not sure it makes any sense, but the twist is that I'm going to tell you, Do Topia reader, about yourself-- but I'm skipping some of the questions, you'll have to fill those in yourself.

1. name:
2. Where did we meet? College, unless you are my aunt or Kristin's mom and then I'm not sure where we met.
3. Take a stab at my middle name: Ann- that should cover a couple.
4. How long have you known me? 6 years or less; or 25 years if you are my aunt.
5. When is the last time we saw each other? Yesterday or about 1.5 years ago- that covers most of you.
6. Do I smoke? No.
7. Do I believe in God? Mostly
8. When you first saw me what was your impression? That's the best looking/hottest/funkiest/coolest/wackiest person I've ever seen. I want to be his/her friend.
9. Month of my Birthday? November 8th if you're The Royer. Is that right? Shouldn't someone call him?
10. Color hair? mostly brown
11. Color eyes? blue
12. Do I have any siblings? yes, unless you are Kristin or the birthday boy.
13. Have you ever had a crush on me? um YEA!
14. Have you ever been jealous of me? just a little.
15. What's one of my favorite things to do outdoors? Throw the disc with Dave.
16. What's one of my fav. things to do indoors? cuddle up with Dave.
17. Do you remember one of the 1st things I said to
you? "Hi"
18. What's my favorite type of music? loud

There were more questions, but I'm bored with this exercise. I'm quitting now. You're welcome.

It's gloomy out
and in.

Televised? I can't even find the revolution.
I was to see the Matrix Revolution tonight. I was looking for resolution to the revolution. I didn't make it. I went to the wrong theater, and then when I realized it was the wrong theater I went toward the right one, but couldn't find it. I spent somewhere in the neighborhood of $15 on a movie I still haven't seen. What with Metro rides, phone calls, tickets, and food I might as well have downloaded it off the Internet and then paid a lawyer for defense against those anti file-sharing people. Now that would've been revolutionary.

A poem of futility
Video games and Internets have replaced the idiot box.
I'm stuck in a sinkhole of shirking responsibility.
The banjo and a new book could be my freedom,
but I digress, for I really need to sew on some buttons.

Is this my alter ego?
Dystopian blogspot .

No.

Not love, actually,
but the day was filled with other emotions. In fact, you might say it was quite an emotional day. This was caused by, my "business proofreading class". In it I found out that I am not using commas correctly. I'm not using them incorrectly regularly, but I should be using them more often (or always) to separate independent clauses with a conjunction. Also I should be using them in lists to eliminate confusion. For instance I should say, "This is a fine list containing peaches, your mom, eight robots, and a slice of rhubarb pie." This way you know that ruhbarb pie and eight robots are distinct. I didn't know I felt strongly about commas, but I was feeling quite defensive.

Further emotions sprung forth at my unveiling. You can call Coach, Super Dave, Safari Dave, Who is Dave?, or any other name you see fit as I take to guiding the Catholic University Ultimate players. They were fired up and already playing better, so I am looking forward to this challenge.

Is hungy an emotion? 'Cause I'm that too. Also, I'm now ticked because I've edited this post 3 times. Let it go.

However, I fear that this is not the height of lameness
For the past two nights, those being the traditional party nights of Friday and Saturday, I have barely been able to function past 11 p.m. In fact at around 9:30 on each of those nights I have begun to look around for the clock thinking, "my God, it must be like 1 a.m." It isn't.

You've already heard some mention of the Halloween goings-on and figured that surely things would get settled down as the weekend progressed. And settle down they did. Last night I went to what can only be called "Spectacle of the Baby". Proud Aunt Monika had us over to meet Shan, pronounced like Shaun (poor kid). We watched him for something like 2 hours. And I do mean watched. There was lots of baby talk and bouncing up and down. It was not as much fun as it sounds. Although, I took my turn holding him and admit that it might have been the highlight of my weekend, but please don't tell the other twenty-somethings. They expect a lot more drunkenness and wild outings that last past 11. Frankly, so do I. I'm just too tired to partake.

This is the coolest
No wonder Columbia was a hot spot for the Pop/Soda/Coke debate
Thanks to J-Dub

Happy Holloween
Halloween was particularly unsettling, here are some possible reasons why:
-Rob was a very ugly Ringwraith.
-Kim was a disturbing Reuben.
-My sweet tooth never really kicked in.
-I couldn't escape the feeling of my impending doom as November approached.
-various other events that my team of lawyers has asked that I not discuss.

It's possible that Clare and I are one and the same. We're like Clark Kent and Superman. I mean, really, have you ever seen the two of us in the same place? (I realize that 3/4 of my readership is now loudly exclaiming "YES!", but that other 1/4 is thinking, "hmmm. now that you mention it..." Please don't ruin it for them, or me.)

More signs that I'm getting older
*"Checking out" a woman now involves a look to the ring finger.
*"Checking out" now involves a woman (as opposed to a girl, see.)
*If you ask for my contact information I'll give you a business card.
*I pick up cleaning supplies and side dishes on my commute from work.
*I intend to use said cleaning supplies and said side dishes.
*I have been asked to help out as a "coach" for an Ultimate team because of my many years of experience.
*I listen to NPR more, trust the government less and wonder if I have the proper asset allocation.

What's the return policy?
There's a "Big Sale" at the tattoo parlor near my house. I was going to check it out but the barbershop with Internet access distracted me.

I can't even spell bischotti
I attempted a roast last night. I'll pretend it's a blur and say I know there was bleeding (uncooked meat''ll do that) and there were nearly tears. There was definitely cursing. I remember the rice had to become an appetizer for the pizza. Eventually I got the hunk of meat done, but by then it was too late. On the bright side, I have a whole roast waiting for me tonight.

Your money or you life? Blog Post April 15, 1948
Did you hear Bing Crosby on the Jack Benny Show last night? Hilarious.
"Your money or your life?" says the robber.
"I'm thinking!" says Benny.

Matter and antimatter
What happens when all your friends get blogs? And they talk about their blogs and the relationships of those blogs and pretty soon blogs become another topic of conversation like politics, or mating or sports. And so in addition to group dynamics you now have blog dynamics. What happens when you realize that reading your friends' blogs is not something you want to do on a regular basis because it turns out that maybe you really didn't want to be in their head because on paper they sound lots different or not different enough or because it freaks you out a little that they really can't remember to eat. How can that be when you're hungry right now and you just ate massive amounts of chicken and biscuits? And maybe it's hard on you because now all of your blog stories are off limits or have significantly less impact because everyone has already read them. Then what? I don't have that much to say usually and so if I blog about something and then don't get to talk about it, what's left?
And what happened to Paul that he would call it weird to meet someone whose blog you read? Which by the way I took as a warning of sorts.
My head probably won't explode, but it's getting closer

The weekend and other grand illusions are here
I'll start a publishing company with Clare and others if need be.
Here's to jobs.
Maybe I should go out for dinner tonight.
Yea. And start work on my Halloween costume.
I'm going to be the best cardboard box Ent ever. this year. in a 2 mile radius.

The reruns
Please refer to November 25, 2002 7:39 am. I'm still smiling. Also too lazy to link it there.

Grounded
I am on pace to eat ground beef at 7 meals this week. So much for the Time article on eating healthy.
At least I had yogurt for breakfast. AH. More cow!

this is a broken record
tears don't fall
a broken record
I've heard it all
This is
a broken record

To make a short story long
I've used this and the new expression "Life is Burritoful" (Thanks Chipotle) far too many times in the last 4 days. The funny thing is I almost never manage to make my short stories long. I can barely manage to make my long stories long. I think this is why people figure I'm a good listener. Little do they realize that I'm just trying to string together enough words to make it a "conversation" when they take their next breath.
I'm an ok listener, but Life is Burritoful.

Fate strikes again
For the second time in a year the Ultimate team I left is going to Nationals. Last spring it was Leadbelly of Ohio State heading to Texas and now the Mixed team Flicks of Fury is on its way to Florida. It is hard for me to be too down about this because I know in both cases I did the right thing. I came to D.C. rather than languish in grad school and I quit a team that I didn't enjoy. Part of growing up is making decisions like this. I am a wizened twenty-something unencumbered by the glory of National Ultimate. Or some would say, I am a fool. I can only hope that my opportunities have not passed me by, like so many...Cubs.

Blue is my favorite color
I've got a new GQ work shirt. It's dead sexy. It just looks like 4 other shirts I own if you view it from more than 1.5 meters away.
So come closer.

Are you in the zone?
(insert pre-teen screams here)
Madonna and Britney Spears have a new song out!
When you combine those two together you get one of the hottest 64-year olds EVER.
You also get little else.

Thought bubbles in my comic strip
-I don't look as good in pictures as I used to.
-Winning isn't everything. Maybe I am just a glory-hungry, selfish Ultimate player.
- My feelings on the kind of book that Lamb: The Gospel according to Biff, Jesus' Childhood pal was best summed up by the author in the last section when he said that he certainly took some liberties with history to add to the story but for this book he felt it was a good thing to do because he really needed to answer the question, "What would Jesus have been like if he had known kung-fu?"
-I think there is a market for a Real Simple for men. Then again maybe that's just the metrosexual in me rearing its head.
-"You go girl" has lost a lot of its oomph.

My real life and my bloguniverse are on a collision course: An advertisment
Identical cousins is good for a laugh.
Just like therapy is good for all of you practicing psychiatrists.

When you read the title of this post please pronounce advertisment like it is spelled. I think that will add the sophistication that this post might otherwise lack.
Thank you for your cooperation.

And speaking of family...
AARP and I must be siblings because my parents are retired teachers and AARP's parent is retired teachers (NRTA). Not only that, but I too have the power to make it better. Then again, so do you. Maybe we're all one big family dodging furry twinkies in this zany little game called life.
Come on, let's have a big group hug

Beware of the Furry Twinkies
Talk about strange emails. My cousin Kelly, who likes to center her emails and use multiple colors anyway, just wrote me an email that involved at least three references to Furry Twinkies. Not just any Furry Twinkies either, these desserts were flying and quite dangerous, I assume by the number of times she told me to DUCK. This might seem especially odd to some people, but I think there is a little furry Twinkie in all my relatives.

Consider
There are over 500,000 people my age (25-34) in D.C. according to USA Today.
75% of men in D.C. are bisexual according to two girls in a bar.
Dancing may prevent the onset of Alzheimers' according to some study somewhere.
I am a better dancer by myself than with a partner according to Kim.

All of that together leads me to believe that I should be able to find someone (man or woman) my age to dance with in this town and if I do, it could make my later years more productive, but if I don't find anyone to dance with I'll dance better anyway.

Dear Silly Boy
Shut up and leave me alone.
You annoy me.

-Love

P.S. Please stop calling me late at night.

Dear Love,
I'm not looking for you. I'm looking for me.

-Silly boy

P.S. It's hard to admire you from afar if you sit so close.

I'm bloggin the suburbs
Things I have to say about New York and my experiences near:
-The city is huge. It's not like I'm coming from Idalia, Colorado here. I took the train from Washington D.C. New York makes D.C. feel down home.
-My Aunt and Uncle spoil me. The only times I ever have warm breakfasts are in this joint.
-Phantom of the Opera has too much opera. I realize this exposes my uncultured underbelly once and for all, but give me tap dancing anyday. I will grant the second act is superior to the first.
-Broadway shows are nifty. We should go to one.
-Kate Beckinsale in Serendipity- Yummy.
-I have got to get out. There are people all around and some of them look interesting.

Blog on.

Thanks Blogs
The wonderful world of blogs has lead me to my second reunion of real people --this one in the Big Apple. Anne and Paul took me to Scruffy McDuffy's and Doyles and the Staten Island Ferry last night. And it was blogs that kept me in touch. Because of this wacky technology I knew that neither had gone off the deep end. Good people change, grow up (Ladies- that Pauly not shore is 2nd only to Taye Diggs) but they stay good people.

Thanks AARP
For sending me to Jersey. It was not New Orleans. It was not Nashville. It's only redeeming quality was that the volunteers I help support are amazing.

I always knew I liked accents
Taking Clare and Aaron's advice I watched the British Coupling last night and the word I repeated most often was "DUMBFOUNDED" as in "I am dumbfounded". How could NBC screw up so much? Using virtually the same script (of course removing several of the funnier bits) NBC has taken a funny show and made it awkward, uncomfortable and dirty. Just like my new bed, except for the uncomfortable part. But man is it dirrty, me-OW.

There’s no place like home

Last Saturday I piled my stuff into a car and a half and moved it across town to my new place where with some assistance I managed to plop it into the room in under 20 minutes. 2 days and no furniture later my stuff still looks rather plopped. The Carriage House, as we like to call it, is taking shape quite nicely because Reuben owns everything you could ever need.



I’ve already managed to have two near-disasters resulting from our new appliances. Are toilets appliances? The toilet scare resulted from IHOP omelets and the lack of a plunger. It’s amazing what a stick from the yard can do. The second scare was caused by a brand new oven. It turns out that you should not cook or even preheat your instruction book. We checked the warm instruction book after peeling off the melted plastic and no where in the book does it say “Don’t cook me”. Still, I don’t recommend it. The house smelled funny for a while, but the PastaBake tasted fine.

Stay tuned for more adventures in bachelorhood.

No wonder I'm single
I sat through half an hour of NBC's new sitcom "Coupling" last night. I thought a good night's sleep might put things in perspective. Sleep just heightened my distaste. This show was bad. I think my roommate liked it (not Reuben, I move tomorrow). That frightens me. What if others felt the same way? What if they aren't already planning a mid-season replacement? The characters were so vapid. All of the marginally funny stuff was in the commercials. At least this way I can shut the TV off right after "Scrubs". I'll get my "Good Morning Miami" (I can't believe that show is back. I thought I was the only one that could stand to watch it) fix after the "Gilmore Girls" on Tuesday. I don't like "Will and Grace" anymore anyway. Looks like this TV season is shaping up to be another fine one.

I thought I was sick of TV. I guess not. I will be in December. Just wait.

The book of Lego
Wow. Even The Royer never did this with his little blocks. Although I have no doubt that he could've.

Doin' it Stuckeyville style
Yes, I was happy when Ed and Carol finally heard my chants of "Bowling Alley Sex" that began somewhere around the halfway point of the episode. No, I'm not happy that this show has to die. And no, clasped hands is not my favorite visual representation of sex. I don't know what is right now, but that's not it.

Stop being polite and start being jealous
The Real Worlders were snowboarding in Switzerland and I had to turn off the TV or else I was going to run into my room, grab my board and leave the country.

The question is,"Why not coffee?"
At Starbucks yesterday I decided that I could have a Vanilla Creme Flappychino. The tall $3 treat was like sipping Vanilla air with the occasional chunk. At least it was until I got to the whipped cream. Then it was like sipping air and fat through a straw. Which leads me back to my initial question.

You're not the boss of me now
My boss returned from 2 months of sick leave today. It was really great for at least 10 minutes. Mostly it was odd. She was asking me to do things that I was already doing and have been doing for about 2 months now. She was way out of the loop and I can barely remember how to fill her in. I really like her though. I'm glad she's back.

The Battle at Materialism Crossing
I'm moving next week and all my things are nearly boxed up. Everything I've been living with for more than a year can fit crammed inside a '92 Saturn. I want to throw half of it away, but I want to buy furniture too. Something has to give. Since I need a bed and I want the UltraLounge I'll probably keep the rest of the junk.

What Would Elvis Do?
Maybe I am all shook up. Uh-huh.

My dear sweet
Isabel, violent windy Isabel, thanks for sparing me. You did take out my cable, but that's only 'cause you love me.

Could it be?
I was just invited to a party via evite. The party isn't far from here, but I swear I have no idea who the host is. Am I a bad, forgetful friend? Am I out partying and blacking out? Do I lead a double life?

Stop with the lies
-I wish Michaella would stop changing her birth date.
-The most beautiful two days possibly ever and tomorrow it all gets blown away. How can it be?

For those of you that thought time was standing still
More reports of high school classmates getting married and having babies. Zany.
Me- I'm a happy 5th wheel, with a garter in my back pocket.

The storm, she iza comin'.

Oh no
Oh blargh is dead. Sad.

Oh yea
It's Kella's birthday. Happy birthday to her.

Ewww.
I painted "Just married" on the Smiths' cars. My thinking in choosing the red marker was red=hearts=love. After the marker/paint stuff ran it looked more like red=blood=psycho thriller.

Where can I find a theory like that?
It is my belief that "Stacy's mom" is the same woman as "Jesse's girl". It may seem odd, but I think that J's girl is all grown up now. She has a daughter and she is once again inspiring music. Quite a woman.
This is only conjecture at this point, though I am searching for evidence. I do not however see any reason to believe that Jesse is Stacy's dad. Even the romantic in me will not allow such whimsy.

so afraid that what I'll find might be what I deserve
I can't escape the pull of my television. I know there are things to do; things I want to do, but I just can't get it together. I'm like my new Zippo (registered trademark). I'm shiny and pretty on the outside and I get a spark or two, but there's no fuel-- man. I've got to get some fuel so the fire will burn, man. It's all about the fuel.

"So afraid that what you'll find, won't be what you deserve."
It's about that time of year again. School would've started if I was into that sort of thing. I'd be meeting new people and starting to crush so I'd be primed by the time my November "love cycle" was ready to roar in.
Instead there's no school, minimal new people. So, I start thinking about new jobs, new places, new stuff in general. Moving across town will calm me for a bit, but will it be enough for the winter? Perhaps if I couple that with some of those personal goals I can head into another year. One of those goals is to get out and experience more of DC- more museums, shows, big city life. They don't call me Big City for nothing. Nobody calls me Big City anymore. Then again, nobody knows why I got that nickname in the first place. So they do call me Big City for nothing. Or they did. That's not the point!

A moment to reflect
Two of my friends from high school are getting married (Justin Shaw and Nick Wills in case you're keeping tabs). Congrats to them. The engagement announcement mentions that they are both account executives at fairly large Ad/Pr Agencies in KC. In no way does the following statement intend to demean their achievements: Perhaps I did not fully exhaust the agency job market in KC or anywhere else for that matter.
I'm reflecting, are you?

That's the spirit
I just found out that the Ultimate team I joined last winter for a tourament in Edinboro, PA won the spirit award for that tournament. Nice guys do finish last, but get a reward months later. Way to go CUltimate! (I'm still amused that a Catholic School would name their team Cultimate and not see the irony.)

Post-vacation stress disorder
I know it's only been two days, but I'm really lonely since I got home from vacation. And really, how big of a complaint can that be when I put in a 12 hour night of sleep last night?
Amanda is doing her best from Holland to fix things and my lunches with Trang have been especially nice, but the Metro rides home and the actual being home have been less than stellar. Groceries might be the cure. Stay tuned.

Happy Birthday to my sister!

It's kinda ok to be back
Wisconsin treated me well. Families, even those that aren't mine and friends are quite nice. After a day to reflect here's what I know.
-I miss Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Freaky.
-Wind surfing is easy, as long as the wind changes directions on cue.
-The line between joke and truth can get blurry.
-Dancing rules. Especially: riding the pony and fake ballet.
-Skinny dipping may not be for every one, but I don't know why not.
-DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT be so stupid as to make negative comments about the fit of a bridesmaid's dress.
-You'd think I would have known this already.
-Eat at Al Johnson's. They have Swedish Pancakes to die for and goats on the roof.
-I love Margo and Rodger.
-Margo and Rodger drive me crazy.
-Karyn is hot.
-Even if you stand very very still sometimes you still have to catch the garter.
-The Gilmore Girls are crazy. Not the ones on TV. These girls are crazier.
-The Milky Way is a beautiful beautiful thing.
-So is Door County Wisconsin.
-So was the wedding. Beautiful. So much love.

I love the convenience of Barnes and Noble
I'm confused by the mating rituals of the homosexual male.
I worry about committing to a new lease.
I'm excited to have a home for the UltraLounge and matching naugahyde chairs.
I know you're jealous.

Ain't no cure
Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying my 9 day weekend. It just feels like it needs a jumpstart; which is funny because my car needs the same thing. I think what this weekend really needs is Wisconsin. So I'm going tomorrow. I've got to make like a groomsman. See the ol' college gang. Eat at a Fish Boil and if all goes well-- watermelon polo.

Haunting memories
Every time I work out, go for a run, etc. I end up feeling the way I did at Districts in the 2-mile so long ago. It feels like I need to reach inside and drag myself along by my intestines. Only now, there's nothing to fight for except "fitness". And I've always disliked fitness for fitness sake. It's time for a goal.

Superlatives be damned
Two of my best friends are getting married in 9 days. I don't know what to say on the card. I don't know what to say in a toast. I don't even know when to deliver the gift. You'd think I'd get this wedding thing down by now.

That Little Jimmy Dickens!
I went to the Grand Ol' Opry with Dori and two co-workers. The great thing about Tuesday night at the Opry is that it's a smorgasbord of country music. Before I could get too tired of any one performer they were replaced by another. Yee haw.

Jumbo Inflate Monkey meets funny hats
I think the fact that I live in a "hip, happening town" but went to Laurel, MD for a bachelor party tells you a lot about my friends and me. The title of this post probably tells you the rest. There was a monkey incident, but it got resolved. Don't be concerned.

I'm one of those people
I have bailed on an Ultimate tournament to take care of other stuff. You can call it a new low or a new high, but no matter what you call it- I have very mixed feelings on the issue.

the frog king a love story by adam davies
Is it good? you might ask me. And I would not know how to answer. Yes. It did make me squirm on the edge of passing out, but you could too if you knew what buttons to push. Sure it has left me feeling very empty and alone, feeling like this wasn't just "a love story" but rather just a few drunken tweaks from "my love story". Is that good? I don't know. Maybe it's time to face that every story doesn't have a happy ending. Surely you've already faced that. Surely. I have and stop calling me Shirley. Or at least I thought I had. I wanted to cry but I don't know how. It didn't make me cry; it just took me to the edge and left a little hole in what? my stomach? my heart? I don't know. Was it good? I guess so. Am I good? I don't know.

Oh yea?
Human touch is underrated.

Got Blech?
It's like my milk is flat or something. It's not sour, but it's still gross. I continue to have bad experiences with milk here. This is causing increasing levels of anxiety in my life.

I'm not afraid of Americans
If you want to read blogs from other countries be up at 5 AM. All those Aussies and Brits are posting about breakfast. WHY AM I UP?

Who is your Big Bad VooDoo Daddy?
At one point I had much anticipated the follow-up to the self-titled BBVDD album that propeled that swing craze (which will return, I swear.) That anticipation died down some 2.5 years ago. Four long years after that first album my favorite swingers have returned to Save my Soul.
Alas, this album is heavy on the VooDoo and light on the Big and Bad. It has a couple swell tunes in the middle “Simple Songs and “Next Week Sometime”, but those are mixed in with a number of tunes that sound a whole lot like the songs from 4 years ago. Perhaps BBVDD thought we’d forget ‘cause they’d been gone so long, but you don’t forget catchy songs like “Me and You and The Bottle Makes Three Tonight.”
Scotty Morris still makes me want to put on my fedora, drink my moonshine and find myself a flapper and Glen “The Kid” Marhevka still blows a mean trumpet, but if BBVDD swings through this town I’ll be there for the nostalgia and not the “zig zaggity woop woop.”

Ultimate. My drug of choice.
I've never been drunk, but a hangover has got to feel just like this.

Barbie and the flesh-eater
Any story that involves eating steak without utensils and a date with a Barbie model has to be good. And it was. Ask Rob's cousin the next time you see him.

Scott and his scoopability
Do topia apologizes to readers (my mom) who were uncomfortable with Scott and his scoopability. I would like to point out that there was a disclaimer.

The 2 Q's
1. Is it actually possible to forget that Rob D. is turning 25 this week?
2. What if the Hokey-pokey is really what it's all about?

flies with honey
If you say something nice to me I am better able to overlook all the yelling you did at me this weekend, maybe even consider the message in the yelling. Funny how compliments will do that.

The look
If I did scoop up Scott* because he meets the requirements, then we would move on to the next phase. In the next phase if I decided I liked Scott and I really wanted to connect with him I would look at him. It wouldn't be any look, it'd be that look that starts from the back of my head that tries to tie a cord between us emotionally, physically, maybe even spirtually. It's that look of longing, of possibility, of connectivity. The one that pierces his eyes and tries to draw him in.

That's the look to avoid.

*The scoopability of Scott and my desire or lack of desire to scoop Scott up is not the issue here. Please focus, people. He's the only volunteer I had.

By the numbers
7players starting our Savage 7 Tourney
5players left when we gave up
2knee injuries
3wins
1loss
200fluid ounces of liquid I consumed today
60minutes ago I should have gone to bed
.5jerks on the team
1.5times I nearly(?) lost my cool responding to Mr. Loudmouth
At least 2teammates who had played at Worlds
1guys named Boozer from Wyoming that I happened to know.
Severalthings I learned about myself: I'd rather lose and have fun than win and be shouted at; If I find a gal and get her to play Ultimate I hope I treat her better than the people I saw today. A great captain is a rare thing indeed. Every time I play with a new team I learn to appreciate Renny MacKay all over again.