Around the bend

Things are still wiggity whacked in my life, but I feel that I have turned the corner and I am down the home stretch.  I see a tape across the track in the near distance that says “your life will return to normalcy” I can’t wait to cross that line.   When I do you might see me off in the distance doing cartwheels and shotgunning beers. 

I will be going through some crazy shit in the next 48 hours and I don’t know what to expect.  My wife will be having an unexpected medical procedure done on Friday and then she will be off her feet for four more days, leaving me to pick up the slack as well as an unexpected relaxing labor day weekend.  Originally we were going to practically do a tour of the state and visit friends and family anywhere from Oregon, IL all the way down near Peoria, but the trip was cancelled due to this surgery. 

As weird as it is, in the 8 years that my wife and I have known each other, neither of us have ever had any sort of medical condition that required either of us to go under the knife.  I always figured it would be me doing something stupid that would have led me to having something sewn back on or reconstructed.   Yep, the words “Hey! Watch this!” is a term that I am loosely familiar with.   

I am looking forward to the down time and anticipate getting a ton of shit done around the house that I have put off for many months.  I have declared this the week that never ends, and I am currently considering constructing a construction paper chain to count down the hours until Saturday. 

Unfortunately, I am learning that I don’t do well with stress when it comes to my wife’s health and that I have a bit of a stress handling problem where I believe that stress comes in the form of food and I believe that I can eat all the stress away.  After working my ass of all winter and spring to shed weight, I seem to have begun putting it back on and now know what Oprah felt like in her 300lb/150lb roller coaster.  I can elaborate more on this after the surgery as well since that is kind of at the core of everything right now.  Speaking of stress, today is Ice cream wednesday here at my office and it’s the last wednesday where we get free ice cream for the summer. I believe there might be 5 coolers full of stress up in  my cafeteria that I must go eat…

Filed under: confused, sadness, scared, wife

A funny thing happened on the way to the city

My day today has been full of work meetings combined with a much needed trip downtown to pick up what I have come to learn is an elusive object.   I have always known that I have a big head.  It has only been an inconvenience when trying to buy fitted baseball caps since the largest size I am able to find is usually one size too small for my nogin.   A month ago I was booked to twist balloons for a candy company that I won’t name, but can say that there have been two movies (one older and a newer remake) made about this candy company.  www.iloveballoonanimals.com

So, the interesting thing about this booking is that I am not allowed to wear my typical “Cubs” garb as I normally do when twisting balloons.  This company is requiring that I and the other woman that is entertaining with me to be in “character” or “clown”.  The big problem is that I am not a clown, nor have I ever been such.  Having a not so great history of being a fan of clowns, this whole thing will be a very interesting experience.  So, this Saturday morning, I will be unveiling “Dapper”.  My new clown persona. 

Dapper spawns from the fact that I am going to try and be as non creepy as possible.  I will be wearing tuxedo pants, colorful shirt, home made balloon cuff links, Black suspenders, a balloon bow tie,  a top hat with a balloon flower on it, and just a bit of make up on the face.  It should be good enough to pass as a clown without being a real clown.  I will have to post photos once I have them for feed back. 

Wow…what happened…back to my oversized melon.  During my quest for a top hat, it has come to my attention that I have the largest head there is.  24″.  I don’t think that means I am extra smart, but I can say it has been a burden trying to locate a top hat that fits my brain.  After seriously two weeks of searching, I was only able to locate one in the ENTIRE Chicagoland area.  So on my drive down to city to pick up the ten gallon sized top hat, I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed two women sitting side by side in an SUV right behind me.  We were in stop and go traffic on 94 heading south, when I looked up again a few moments later to hear honking and men screaming out the window.  As I looked at the car, I noticed that the two women behind me were kissing, causing a serious amount of traffic to come to a standstill since it appears that the men in the cars to the left and right were all cheering them on.  With the traffic in front of me moving a long, who was I to miss out on the fun, so for a good 30 seconds, these two women in all of their lesbian fun, caused traffic to a halt entirely over a kiss.  The funniest part was seeing all of the guys look at each other in amazement over what was happening.  It fell just short of guys getting out of their cars to high five one another. 

I finally started moving, and they followed, and over the next 5 miles, at every single stop in traffic, they would start making out again causing many to honk and cheer in approval.  The weird thing was that they didn’t fit any girl on girl stereotype what so ever, which is what really brought on the cheers.  It definitely made slow traffic on the toll way as bearable as it has ever been.  I turned on the radio to hear a traffic report.  I thought they might mention a delay in our section of the toll way and what the reason might be. 
“We have a gapers delay on the Eden’s from skokie rd down to the junction with reports of guys cheering on lesbians who are making out.”  I hope to hear that, but had no such luck.

Eventually I had to exit against my better judgement.  I could have continued as the grand marshall of the lesbian parade, but since it was a trip during the workday, I chose to not continue since I had no idea how far this parade might go on.

Filed under: Car, balloon, boredom, confused, creepy, free porn, weird, work

I am bored and I like it

For the first time in a very long time, things have come to a screeching halt.  After months of commitment every single night of the week, I am free.  Last night, for the first time this Summer, I was home before 9pm.  I didn’t know what to do with myself. 

Last weekend I went camping for the first time in over 10 years.  We went up to the Warren Dunes in Michigan.  It was camping, but it wasn’t.  We slept in a tent, that is true.  We cooked over fire, that is true as well.  But the bottom line is that we didn’t have to “rough it” like one might think when thinking of the word “camping”.  The campsites are called “modern” according to Warren Dunes for good reason.  A cellular signal was had, there were showers and bathrooms that I was overly impressed with considering the amount of visits that both get throughout the day.  There was a little trading post store that you walked to where you bought wood, which was different for me since I am used to scavenging through the woods to provide fuel for the fire.  I think the hardest part of camping was the damn mosquito’s.  At one point, I caught a mosquito making sweet, sweet, mosquito love to my ankle.  I have a line of no less than 8 bites in a row to prove it.  I would guestimate that I was bitten no less than 80 times, with the crowning bite being right in the middle of my forehead. 

I had been looking forward to camping for more than 6 months since that was how long it had been since we had reserved the site.  Sadly, what was most exciting to me was the food possibilities.  I am a fan of food, and a bigger fan of food that is grilled.  I love to cook, and when you give me free run of cooking whatever I want over a flame, I am going to go crazy.  I was busy last week compiling my menu for the three days.  I took the propane fueled turkey fryer as well to experiment with some super secret recipe’s that I have thought about.  I ended up making all of these things for the first time while camping that will be re-duplicated at home now that they went over well.  I must caution you before you read on since the following descriptions read like a Penthouse Forum book to a fat person that loves food. 

Home made potato chips-  My goodness.  For my first attempt at potato chips, they were unbelievably amazing.  Crispy, light brown, salty.  I have decided that I will never buy store bought chips again, since one 10lb bag of potato’s can create so many potato chips. 

Beer battered onion rings- These turned out good, but can definitely be improved.  You should use a dark beer for the batter, but all I had was miller lite, and flour that expired in 2004. (Doh!)  By the last couple of batches, the heat had cooled and they were a bit crispier, but they were still awesome for my first go. 

Eggs Nest breakfast. (Sausage, with a ring of hash browns, eggs in the middle covered with cheese)  I wanted to dump sausage gravy on top, but this breakfast didn’t turn out as well as it should have.  I didn’t have a cooking spray to coat the foil, and had double foiled it, so what should have taken less than a half hour turned into almost lunch.  I thought it was ok, my wife loved it. 

Boiled Omelets.  This one surprised me.  I boiled water in the huge pot for the Turkey fryer.  I took zip lock baggies and filled them with Ham, Musrooms, Onions, Green Pepper, Eggs, and american cheese.  Squish the bag and shake it until everything is mixed and the eggs are seriously scrambled.  Drop the sealed bags into boiling water, and within 10 minutes, you dump out the bag onto your plate and you have one of the most amazing breakfasts ever.  I one upped it and boiled a bag of western style hash browns as well.  In hindsight, I would have boiled a bag of canned sausage gravy as well, but it was still amazing.  I don’t know what it is about food that get’s me.  

I am entirely too excited about what I ate, and I know it.  Sorry to take you on this weird ride.  It just dawned on me that the last few minutes of typing is exactly why I will never be thin. 

Finally, one last food tidbit.  For the first time in my life, I had a smore.  Not that this is a crowning achievement, but at the age of 31, firsts don’t come that often anymore.  The group we were camping with couldn’t fathom a person at the age of 31 never having had a smore before, so I busted out the sob tale of mommy and daddy caring more about room in the coolers for beer than chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers on childhood camping trips.  Violin sounds could be heard in the background. 

That’s it.  It’s been to few and far between posts, so I will try and shorten them up and make them more frequent.  As I mentioned, there have been some life changing events lately, and I will elaborate in time. 

Have a great remainder of the week!

Filed under: Fatty, Overcommitment, Vacation, boredom, confused, stupid, weekend, weird, wife

Confused

That is the general theme of not just today, but mostly this week.  There have been some great debates going on inside my brain, and I only wish that it could be seen by the masses.  It would probably be similar to that channel on TV where they film all of the congressmen and congresswomen as they debate and vote on laws…seriously boring, but something you find yourself watching because nothing else is on. 

I have gone this week from deciding to stick things out with my current employer…to thinking I would quit and just do my sidebusiness…to wanting to go back to school and be a teacher…and after all of that, I still don’t know what the hell I want to do.  Is this a pre mid life crisis?  The only thing I am certain about is the fact that I want to live on a beach somewhere, but making that dream come true is still a good 25 years away. 

The teacher bit is a little cloudy, because that would mean going back to school and at the age of 31, I don’t mind the concept of going back, but it would likely mean doing years of schooling, and potentially not getting to actually begin teaching until around the age of 35.  I know that I would enjoy teaching, particularly acting and art, and even possibly coaching the speech team as well.  The fact that my wife is a teacher and we would both have 3 months off to do whatever we wanted to do during that time is probably the most appealing thing to me.  That and the fact that my paycheck wouldn’t necessarily be decitated by the economy so much.  The more I type, the more I like this option most.  I guess if I start at the age of 35, then that would still give me a good 25 years of teaching before I would retire.   I also can’t help but see all the fun things that my friends get to do during their summer months while I am sitting behind a desk all day. 

I am glad that this week is quickly passing because it definitely wasn’t one of my finer ones.  I think I might just need someone to walk up and slap me across the face in an attempt to snap out of this mental funk I am in like they would do in the movies.  If someone could do this, while screaming the words, “SNAP OUT OF IT!!!” I would feel that the week wasn’t a total waste.  I wouldn’t even be mad…

At this point, it’s hard to be excited about the weekend.  Apparently some group that opposes Scientology is going to be protesting in Millenium park tomorrow from 11-4.  The group is called Anonymous, and it is an internet uprising that I have heard is pretty secretive and downright weird.  The only reason I have any interest is because their protests have been said to be a bit on the unusual side, and I am a fan of the unusual.  I may head down to do some people watching tomorrow if I can get my wife on board, and then we’re off to a surprise birthday party.  I haven’t been to Church in a few weeks since all of this traveling, so I will be happy to get back to God on Sunday.  Maybe my mental state is God’s way of telling me that I should get my ass back in Church.   

A nice little weekend….going to Home Depot…maybe Bed Bath and beyond… who knows…

Filed under: confused, grouchy, stupid, weekend, work

baby talk

I recently learned a new word.  I didn’t think much about it at first thinking that it would be one of those words that I hear but never hear again.  It was dropped on me in a meeting with a manager and it now haunts me. 

EBITDA

Say it with me…EE BIT DUH

I don’t really know if it is a word or an acronym.  It means Earnings before Interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization or something like that, which to me qualifies it as an acronym wannabe. 

It’s a very business fashionable word since it is relatively new.  I don’t really know what it means other than when I hear it I fear being fired.  Actually I don’t really fear it, but I know that it has something to do with the company’s overall profitability, and if they are talking to me about the overall company income, that means that I need to work harder or else! 

EBITDA might as well be latin for Whip because when it is brought up by upper management to the clothed wall workers of the organization, such as myself, it translate’s to “work harder, make us more money, or you will be replaced!” 

I’m just hoping that EBITDA and I get along long enough for me to look back fondly on and remember when we used to say a word that might have been coined by a CEO somewhere while spending that rare 5 minutes with his 6 month old. 

Filed under: EBITDA, Livin the dream, confused, weird, wikipedia, work

It’s not rocket science

It really isn’t. 

When walking, don’t walk on train tracks. 

When crossing train tracks, don’t cross when a train is coming. 

When living by train tracks, don’t let children young enough to not know what the shiny metal things are play outside without supervision. 

Those seem like obvious rules to some, but lately it appears that the general population needs a refresher. 

For adults, what a stupid way to end your time on earth. 

For children, it’s downright sad because they were never taught better.  If I see another redneck woman on the news crying while re-living the moment that she watched her baby get struck by a train, I am going to go apeshit. 

Or the 5 year old that shot himself in the head because daddy left the loaded gun under a pillow in the bedroom. 

Or the Yankee fan that plows into Redsox fans and kills someone because they mocked their baseball team. 

It’s a sad time.  I need to stop watching and reading the news.   

In another strange series of events, this morning I was awoken by a pack of coyote or wolves or some very loud howling animals.  This may not seem strange to some, but I live in the suburbs of Chicago.  Although they just shot a cougar in the heart of the city.  It was around 4:00am when my wife and I heard howling and barking.  It was straight out of a horror film.  Or if you remember the scene in the movie Stand By Me where the kids are sitting around the fire scared shitless about the howling going on around them.  It was a bit like that except I was safe in the comfort of my own home.    I opened the window and realized that the howling and barking was coming from the woods immediately across the field from our house.  I can add ‘walking through the neighboring woods at 4am’ to my ever growing list of Things I would prefer not to do if a gun is not pointed at me. 

Filed under: Babies, confused, grouchy, pain, train wreck

They are not zoo animals!

This weekend I was fortunate to partake in one of my all time favorite things. 

Inmate watching. 

It’s become tradition for me that every time I am on my way to visit with my grandfather, at his camper on a lake just at the outskirts of Canton, that I go a hair out of my way to watch the inmates at the prison.  The fact that I enjoy watching the inmates has caused much grief for my wife.  She is bothered at the fact that I like to drive around the prison slowly watching the inmates enjoy their outdoor time.  She says I watch them like they are zoo animals, but I would never refer to them as that.  I love to people watch, and there is something about watching people that have done some strange shit in life that has led them to be on the opposite side of the fence from me.   

The prison I am describing is called the Illinois River Correctional Center.  After Googling it, I have learned that it has been opened since  October 1989 and has a capacity of 1,011.  I find it funny/sad that the average daily population is 2,004.  Either the state of Illinois website has misreported the capacity, or they are packed in like sardines. 

It’s a Level 3 prison, which means it’s a High Medium-Security Adult Male facility.  The average age of the inmates is 34.  Average annual cost per inmate is 15,687.  That seems a little high to me, but what do I know.  That’s like 40 bucks a day per inmate. 

Anywho, I don’t really know why I enjoy watching them so much.  I kid you not, if they had a parking area on the side of the prison where they have recess, I would consider tailgating.  In my years of observation I find it interesting the many different groups that you have inside the prison yard. 

You have the soccer players.  The basket ballers.  The walkers.  I am sure I am missing a couple of groups like the body builders, base ballers, foot ballers, or the kick ballers, but I in driving the 20mph around the prison, I haven’t been able to identify those people yet.  I don’t want to pull over and sit idle for fear of the prison guards up in the tower that might be having a bad day.  I have seen shawshank a few too many times. 

My truly favorite group doesn’t really qualify as a group, but more of individuals.  These are the picnic tablers.  There is a picnic table set up closest to the several layers of fences and it never fails, but there is always one person sitting on the picnic table looking out at the road as I drive by.  I can’t help but wonder about this guy.  If I ever had access to the yard without concern of having a shaved off tooth brush gouged into my neck, I would love answers to my many thoughts about this loner. 

Are there ever battles over the picnic table?  Is that “Eddie’s table”?  As in, stay away from that table or Eddie will carve out your eye with a plastic spoon? 

Why not play with your fellow inmates?  (or “What’s wrong sad clown?”)

Is this person plotting escape or how he is going to hide his shiv during the next shake down? 

 

 

Filed under: Exercise, confused, stupid, weekend, wife

Funny hair talk

After all of my consideration as to what I would do upon my arrival home this evening to celebrate peer pressure in my life, I ended up working late.  I didn’t leave the office until 7:30 so instead of even going to the gym, I decided to swing by my local hair chop shop and have some of my receding hairline manipulated.   I have a weird relationship with the…I don’t know what really to call it…it’s not a barber shop because women work there and there is no candy cane pole spinning, and I don’t want to call it a salon because that is downright gay.  So, the relationship is a love hate relationship.  It’s right by my house, which is nice.  The women that work it are all Polish/Russian/Ukrainian, which is nice because I can’t understand what they are saying 98 percent of the time which I’ll take even though I know that they have to be saying something funny about me.  It’s an even trade really…make fun of me all you want, so long as I don’t have to listen to the stupid things you talk about.  It’s kind of like watching a spanish soap opera.  You hear what they are saying, but I sometimes will make up conversations in my own head purely for self entertainment value.

Tonight I didn’t have to make anything up because I was one on one in the shop, so the lady had no choice but to speak broken ukrainian english.

Let me back up for just a moment.

There are only three women that work there.  The owner, the fat one, and the hot one.  Before you cringe at the fact that I am married and refer to another woman as the hot one, I do so in jest because to the normal man, she would be considered hot, but to me she is as ugly as they come because she sucks at cutting hair. The fat one is hotter than the hot one because she knows exactly how I like to have my hair cut.  And she does this thing at the end with a warm towel and blow dryer that is almost as good as a happy ending in my book.  I could seriously fall asleep that is how relaxing it is.

I do not know the names of any of the women because I don’t speak Russian anyway.  So, I can’t call in and ask “Is the fat lady cutting hair tonight?”  I guess I could…but that would be downright pressing my rudeness threshold.  I digress…

Last night on my way home I drove by, and the Hot one was there.  I sat outside like a stalker waiting to see if my plump lady emerged from the back, but no such luck.  I drove off.  Tonight I drove by again, and knowing the schedule I have before me gave in to the fact that tonight there will be no hot towel rub down in my future.  So, I went one on one with the Hot one.

Funny story #1:  The Ukrainian hair stylist just got back from vacation from Miami beach and she was distraught at the fact that everyone is beautiful in South Beach.  This girl could seriously be a European model and she went on for a good 5 minutes about the fact that in Chicago, she gets lots of attention from boys, but in Miami Beach she didn’t get the attention that she had hoped.  Wow.  I don’t know if she has any clue that in the US it’s good to refrain from telling people about how hot you are.

Funny story #2:  Ukrainian people are deathly afraid of Barack Obama.  This woman straight up told me that if Barack Obama is voted president she is moving back to Ukrain.  After laughing so hard that she had to stop with the hair cut, I asked for clarification about what she had just said.  She went on to explain that the economy right now will become worst if Barack Obama is voted president.  She likes Hillary Clinton for the simple reason that when Bill was president the economy was the best it’s ever been and Bill Clinton was the reason that she and many of her family and friends moved to the US.  Her main argument about why Barack Obama will be so bad was based on the fact that she heard that his wife didn’t like white people, which once again, set me into a fit of laughter.

Not only is the hair lady ugly for sucking at cutting my hair but she has a slight shade of racist too.

Funny Story #3:  When trying to talk to me about Las Vegas, she asked me if I had ever seen the movie:  11 Friends of Las Vegas Ocean.  “You mean Oceans 11″ “yes, that is the movie”.

This might not be as funny to you as it was for me hearing her say that, but I still got a kick out of it.  I have a newfound fascination with the mind of Ukrainians.

Filed under: Barack Obama, Hair cut, Hillary Clinton, confused, stupid

Have you ever had water in your basement?

I was asked this question by my manager last Friday night.  Let me tell a quick back story before I get into mine. 

One of my managers had the major plumbing pipe rupture in his crawlspace causing what he explained to be a river of 13″ deep shit in his shoulder high crawlspace.  The crawlspace is almost as big as the entire house and was the result of a 40 person party that he had hosted where the amount of sewage usage caused his sewage pipe to clog near the sewer backing everthing up that had been sent down the pipe from this huge party, braking pipes and filling the crawlspace with nothing but nastiness.  Add that with every drop of water from the dishwasher/showers/washing machines and you have a soapy river of shit, none the less.  He had joked last week about having to call in a Hazmat team.  It may have not been a Hazmat team, but anyone that has to go into a home to remove a river of soapy shit could be called such. 

While leaving the office on Friday, I asked my manager how the removal process went, and he asked me the question, “Have you ever had water in your basement?”  This simple little question launched me back to many childhood memories.  One or two of which I have to explain since thinking back at my ripe age of 31 made me realized just how fucked up it was.  Try and bear with me while I type out my weird memories as a child. 

“Yes…now that I think about it, I did live in a house with water in the basement” was my answer. 

I went on to explain that when I was in 6th grade my mother had moved myself, my older brother and my younger brother into a house in Lincoln, IL.  This was the fifth house we had lived in during my 6th grade year of school. 

This house was right on 5th street.  One of the main drags of Lincoln if there is such a thing.  I recall that the house did have water in the basement.  At the time, being 12 and all, having water in the basement didn’t seem like such a big deal.  I never understood why we had water in the basement.  But at all times, there was at least a good 12-18 inches depending on rainfall.  Sometimes it would swell upwards to 2-3 feet.  I could open the basement door and judge how high the water was based on the number of stairs that was covered in water.  Usually the second to last stair would be right at the water level.  Sometimes when it was raining the fourth and fifth stair would be covered.  I wasn’t allowed to go down there.  But I did. 

At the top of the stairs was two different pairs of thigh high rubber boots that the landlord would wear when he would go downstairs.  The weird thing was that many of the basement level windows had cracks or were broken.  The funniest thing is that we had creatures that lived in the water.  You could see tadpoles swimming around.  Frogs eventually developed in the basement.  As I thought back, I remember thinking how cool it was to be able to open the door to the basement and see rows of frogs chilling on the steps.  I would take one step onto the wooden steps and all of them would go leaping into the water to swim away.  I remember thinking that maybe when I went fishing that I could bring home the fish I caught and let them live in my basement with the frogs. 

The basement was filled with old jarred food.  Someone who had lived in the home at some point was into pickling vegetables and fruits.  It all looked gross to me. 

Once my mother had me go down there with her in the dark.  I held the flashlight while she was changing fuses in the electrical box.  Wow.  There is nothing like standing in knee high water while swapping out fuses in the electrical box. 

One other time, and this is my favorite, my mother and I went down to try and see why the sump pump wasn’t removing the water.  We both put on a set of boots and waded our way to the other end of the basement.  The sump pump was a good 6-8 inches covered with water, so my mother had to reach down to fiddle with the electrical cord.  Something happened and bubbles started coming out of the sump pump.  As the bubbles hit the top of the water, smoke came out of the bubbles, meaning something bad was about to happen.  My mother looked at me, and as if she said it in slow motion, screamed “RUUUUUUNNNNNN!” with the most horrific look on her face.  By the time I had a chance to react she was already on her way back to the stairs.  As I turned around and began to run as fast as I could in knee high water, I failed to notice the 6 inch wide rusted ceiling support and I ran straight into the pole head first, causing it to knock me nearly unconscious.  I fell straight backwards into the water.  For the first time I had been dunked in the basement water.  My mother came back and grabbed me to pull me to safety.  Apparently she thought that we could outrun being electricuted by the sump pump.  I had a nice little bump right in the middle of my forehead for a good week to remind me why it’s not a good idea to go down into the basement. 

We moved out of the house not long after that.  I don’t know if it had anything to do with the pond in our basement. 

Man, I had a fucked up childhood.  I don’t know if I know anyone that had wild frogs living in their basement. 

Filed under: confused, creepy, fish, memories, stupid, train wreck, weird, work

Going to Vegas…again…

Am I the only one that feels very weird when buying airline tickets?  I guess as I get older I have a harder time flying without my wife.  I watched this clip at least 20 times over the last month and it has brought back the fear that I felt in my abdullah oblonghatta each time I had a rocky landing.

http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=3a8_1204670394 

Twice I have had the pleasure of being on an airplane that tried to land only to feel the force of engines go to top speed as we decide that maybe landing isn’t a good idea.   

I don’t know why I struggle with it.   There’s just something creepy about buying a ticket and all the while getting the option of choosing where I sit.  Don’t get me wrong, I do like to sit by the window and having the choice by booking early to get dibs on hot seats.  But as I look at the airplane seating diagram I begin to run through scenarios as to why I might want to sit in an aisle seat or why being in the back of the plane would be better since I would be the squasher and not the squashee in the even of an impact landing, or the tail section breaking off like in Lost.  Am I the only one that considers these things when picking what airline seat I am going to choose?

This seating dillema has been brought to you by the fine folks from Peer Pressure Inc.  I am going to be heading out to Las Vegas in 19 days, but now I will be going back in another 68 days and I really didn’t want to go.  My billiards team has qualified for the US National Championships and if I don’t go, then the whole team can’t go since they require a certain number of players on the team to compete.  Not only would my team be screwed out of the competition, but members of other teams that are going would be screwed as well since we are forming one super team.  So, I have not only the weight of my team mates, but also that of people that I don’t even really care about pushing me into flying my ass out there so that we can compete.  The scariest thing about all of this is that this new trip will seriously zap my vacation time and I might not be able to do the “5 year anniversary vacation” with my wife that we have been talking about for the past two years.  I could be in some deep doodoo.  Oh well.  It’s a free trip to Vegas.  How bad can it be? We just might possibly have the high calibur shooters going to win the National Championship. 

Filed under: billiard, confused, peer pressure, stupid, wife, work