"I need to tell you something, before you hear it from someone else."
An ex-girlfriend of mine said this to me the other day. Just out of the blue. I'm thinking, "Oh crap! What could it be?" My first thought was that she was pregnant. She's not. (Whew.) But really, when someone makes that statement to you, can it be anything but bad?
OK, so much for the random insert. In other news, Rick Springfield is returning to General Hospital. Thanks to Pia for the heads-up on that. Now on with today's entry...
Once upon a time in the vast annals of the blogosphere, a single, straight male from parts unknown began to blog. Armed with a rather expansive knowledge of song lyrics and an affinity for Seinfeld... Er, anyway, I have wanted to do this for awhile. So tonight I scanned thru my archives to find what I hope are some of my better posts. I'm planning to put a "Selected Posts" section on my sidebar linking to a few of these. Is it vain to do this? I think it's a good way for newer readers to get to know me. Also, for many months after I started blogging, I had just a few readers, and even fewer comments. So this is a way to reintroduce a few of those scarcely read posts. Here are some of the ones I'm thinking of including. A sampling of Bone, if you will:
Urinalysis (Oct. '05)
Little Mary Phagan (Oct. '05)
The Tradition (Aug. '05)
Unmelted Snow (Aug. '05)
When Two Become One (Aug. '05)
The Box (Aug. '05)
The First Girl I Ever Called (Jul. '05)
My Old Man (Jul. '05)
LaGrange (Jul. '05)
That City (Jun. '05)
Slow Down (May '05)
Opryland Historical Tours (Apr. '05)
Know When To Hold 'Em (Apr. '05)
Days Like This (Aug. '04)
Invaluable Moments (Jul. '04)
Friends and Doughnuts (Dec. '03)
OK, Charlize is on Letterman. So I'm off to watch her...
"So you stole my world. Now I'm just a phony. Remembering the girl, leaves me down and lonely. Send it in a letter. Make yourself feel better..."
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
The tin man
(Note: This entry is not about her. Just wanted to clarify that.)
"As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable."
Some people have a problem opening up. Some stay emotionally detached. I used to feel sorry for those people. I used to think what a sad life that must be. But perhaps I am the one with the problem. It has almost always been easy for me to open up. To express my feelings. What's in my heart. Too easy, I'm beginning to think.
When you open yourself up, and allow someone else to come inside, there's almost no limit to the damage they can do. So I can understand all those people who don't let anyone in, who treat it all as just a game. I even tried that for awhile. I'm not sure if it was by choice, or some sort of defense mechanism. Probably a bit of both, but more the latter. I did that for a couple of years. I dated girls, but kept myself from getting attached. Then when something happened, it honestly didn't bother me.
I used to feel sorry for those people. I used to think how sad it must be to never feel. Now? I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe there was a time when they did open up. Gave everything they had. And lost it.
Now here I sit. Empty. Jaded. Doubting my own instincts.
When I looked at her, for the first time in my life, I saw the future. At least... I thought I did. It seemed so clear. So real. How can a heart be so badly mistaken?
I'd been wrong before. And I'm sure I'll be wrong again.
But I hope that I won't be that wrong anymore.
"We call them weak, who are unable to resist, the slightest chance love might exist. And for that, forsake it all..."
"As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable."
Some people have a problem opening up. Some stay emotionally detached. I used to feel sorry for those people. I used to think what a sad life that must be. But perhaps I am the one with the problem. It has almost always been easy for me to open up. To express my feelings. What's in my heart. Too easy, I'm beginning to think.
When you open yourself up, and allow someone else to come inside, there's almost no limit to the damage they can do. So I can understand all those people who don't let anyone in, who treat it all as just a game. I even tried that for awhile. I'm not sure if it was by choice, or some sort of defense mechanism. Probably a bit of both, but more the latter. I did that for a couple of years. I dated girls, but kept myself from getting attached. Then when something happened, it honestly didn't bother me.
I used to feel sorry for those people. I used to think how sad it must be to never feel. Now? I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe there was a time when they did open up. Gave everything they had. And lost it.
Now here I sit. Empty. Jaded. Doubting my own instincts.
When I looked at her, for the first time in my life, I saw the future. At least... I thought I did. It seemed so clear. So real. How can a heart be so badly mistaken?
I'd been wrong before. And I'm sure I'll be wrong again.
But I hope that I won't be that wrong anymore.
"We call them weak, who are unable to resist, the slightest chance love might exist. And for that, forsake it all..."
Sunday, November 27, 2005
The vacuum monologues
Thanks to Pia for mentioning me on her site the other day. I only wish that I would've had a better post up for people to see if they clicked over :-) If you haven't read Courting Destiny, you should check it out. I love her tales of New York, past and present. And her writing is truly splendid. Now, on with today's entry...
I push the loud, unwieldy contraption across the carpet, taking care to run it over every visible piece of dirt, dust, and debris. Trying to complete the task as quickly as possible. I hate loud noises. Vacuums, lawn mowers, anything that is loud. When I was little, and Mom would start to vacuum, I'd go to another room or outside. I hate yelling. I like music loud sometimes. But that's about it. I see a piece of something over by the recliner. I run the machine over it once, twice, three times. It's still there. I reach down to pick up the stubborn item, as if it is purposely not cooperating. I examine it as if trying to decide why it won't "go," then inexplicably decide to toss it back on the floor and give the vacuum one more chance...
I really need help cleaning. Not cleaning so much. I can do (most) all the tasks. I just don't know what to do, or how often to do it. I noticed some dust the other day on the little baseboards at the bottom of the wall. I mean, how often do you clean those? What about the refrigerator? How often do you clean the inside of it? And dusting. Is it OK to dust shelves with a feather duster, or should I take all the items off and spray it with Endust everytime? (Lass, remember when you made this offer?) Someone should write a cleaning manual or something, sort of like a car maintenance schedule. Daily tasks, every other day, bi-weekly, weekly, monthly, etc.
"Any fashion, grooming, cooking, cleaning, courting, whatever advice you need, I'm happy to throw in my two cents." Lass, remember when you made this offer? ;-)
Got called into work Saturday, the only blip on an otherwise wonderful, relaxing weekend. Sitting around yesterday, I realized Bunny had been home from South Carolina all week and I still hadn't seen her. So I called her and we went out to dinner at Oh Bryan's. (If only it was always that easy.) We went by Wal-Mart, then I brought her back here to show her my place. That actually gave me motivation to clean yesterday. After that, I went to hang out with some other friends. Ended up not getting home until a little after 5:00 this morning. So it was a good night. Or a bad night. Depending on your definition :-) I really needed to unwind, and that sure was a lot of unwinding. Although I'd never played pool like that before ;-)
I can scarcely read thru a blog entry anymore that I'm not reminded of something from some episode of Seinfeld. Not sure what that means, and don't want to analyze too deeply. "The Wink" was on the other night. Kramer tries to get an autographed birthday card back from a little boy in the hospital. A few lines:
Kramer: "Alright. What if I tell Paul O'Neill to hit a home run tomorrow, just for you?"
Kid: "Paul O'Neill would do that?"
Kramer: "For you, he would."
Kid: "Would he hit two home runs?"
Kramer: "Two? Uh.. sure kid, yeah. But then you gotta promise you'll do something for me."
Kid: "I know. Get out of this bed and walk again."
Kramer: "Yeah, that would be nice, but I really just need this card."
(later)
Kramer: "Oh, by the way, George. Tomorrow night, Paul O'Neill has to catch a fly ball in his hat."
OK, just finished up my shrimp lo mein and egg rolls. Gonna put the leftovers in the fridge and maybe get in bed early. As I was telling someone earlier this evening, when I was a kid, I hated leftovers. Now, as a bachelor, leftovers are like sacred treasure. Then after I said that, I wondered what exactly is sacred treasure. Oh well. My fortune tonight? "A cheerful letter or message is on its way to you." Oh yeah? Well, it better be pretty freakin' cheerful.
"We cannot live together. We cannot live apart. That's the situation. We've known it from the start. Everytime that I look at you, I can see the future..."
I push the loud, unwieldy contraption across the carpet, taking care to run it over every visible piece of dirt, dust, and debris. Trying to complete the task as quickly as possible. I hate loud noises. Vacuums, lawn mowers, anything that is loud. When I was little, and Mom would start to vacuum, I'd go to another room or outside. I hate yelling. I like music loud sometimes. But that's about it. I see a piece of something over by the recliner. I run the machine over it once, twice, three times. It's still there. I reach down to pick up the stubborn item, as if it is purposely not cooperating. I examine it as if trying to decide why it won't "go," then inexplicably decide to toss it back on the floor and give the vacuum one more chance...
I really need help cleaning. Not cleaning so much. I can do (most) all the tasks. I just don't know what to do, or how often to do it. I noticed some dust the other day on the little baseboards at the bottom of the wall. I mean, how often do you clean those? What about the refrigerator? How often do you clean the inside of it? And dusting. Is it OK to dust shelves with a feather duster, or should I take all the items off and spray it with Endust everytime? (Lass, remember when you made this offer?) Someone should write a cleaning manual or something, sort of like a car maintenance schedule. Daily tasks, every other day, bi-weekly, weekly, monthly, etc.
"Any fashion, grooming, cooking, cleaning, courting, whatever advice you need, I'm happy to throw in my two cents." Lass, remember when you made this offer? ;-)
Got called into work Saturday, the only blip on an otherwise wonderful, relaxing weekend. Sitting around yesterday, I realized Bunny had been home from South Carolina all week and I still hadn't seen her. So I called her and we went out to dinner at Oh Bryan's. (If only it was always that easy.) We went by Wal-Mart, then I brought her back here to show her my place. That actually gave me motivation to clean yesterday. After that, I went to hang out with some other friends. Ended up not getting home until a little after 5:00 this morning. So it was a good night. Or a bad night. Depending on your definition :-) I really needed to unwind, and that sure was a lot of unwinding. Although I'd never played pool like that before ;-)
I can scarcely read thru a blog entry anymore that I'm not reminded of something from some episode of Seinfeld. Not sure what that means, and don't want to analyze too deeply. "The Wink" was on the other night. Kramer tries to get an autographed birthday card back from a little boy in the hospital. A few lines:
Kramer: "Alright. What if I tell Paul O'Neill to hit a home run tomorrow, just for you?"
Kid: "Paul O'Neill would do that?"
Kramer: "For you, he would."
Kid: "Would he hit two home runs?"
Kramer: "Two? Uh.. sure kid, yeah. But then you gotta promise you'll do something for me."
Kid: "I know. Get out of this bed and walk again."
Kramer: "Yeah, that would be nice, but I really just need this card."
(later)
Kramer: "Oh, by the way, George. Tomorrow night, Paul O'Neill has to catch a fly ball in his hat."
OK, just finished up my shrimp lo mein and egg rolls. Gonna put the leftovers in the fridge and maybe get in bed early. As I was telling someone earlier this evening, when I was a kid, I hated leftovers. Now, as a bachelor, leftovers are like sacred treasure. Then after I said that, I wondered what exactly is sacred treasure. Oh well. My fortune tonight? "A cheerful letter or message is on its way to you." Oh yeah? Well, it better be pretty freakin' cheerful.
"We cannot live together. We cannot live apart. That's the situation. We've known it from the start. Everytime that I look at you, I can see the future..."
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Today, Thanksgiving. Tomorrow...
A new section of links has been added to the sidebar. Notice anything different? O:-)
I hope that you all had a good Thanksgiving. This year was a bit different for me, but I won't go into that. The food was good, had plenty to eat, and of course Mom sent home leftovers that I will be enjoying for the next few days.
This day always makes me think of so many things and brings to mind so many memories. I always think of Thanksgivings past. I think of family members who were here then, but now are gone. When I was a kid, I would always try to talk enough people into playing football out in the yard. After enough pestering, I could usually round up a handful of cousins and uncles for a game which always seemed too short to me. I think of those who can't be home for the holidays. I think of anyone who might spend this day alone, never seeing another person all day. I hope that there aren't very many people who experience that, but I am sure there are some. As wonderful and lively as the holidays are, I imagine that they can be very lonely and depressing for some. I hate that. Even today, I thought of a friend who might not have anywhere to go or anyone to spend Thanksgiving with, but did I call? I thought about it a couple of times, but just never did. When I was younger, I always looked forward to the seeing family aspect of the holidays. Even as I got into my teens, I would always try to get Mom to invite people over for Memorial Day, Labor Day, any holiday that most people get off of work.
Watched a little bit of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade this morning. To me, that sort of signifies the beginning of the holiday season. Miracle On 34th Street was on TV this morning, too. My favorite Christmas movie. Watched most of A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving tonight. And of course, I watched football most all day. Would have been a much better day if the Cowboys kicker could make a freakin' 34-yard field goal! But anyway, the holidays are here. I enjoy being out amongst the crowds and shopping for Christmas. I like the decorations, the lights, Santa in the mall, the cold, the snow. (Not that we get much of the latter two.) I like it all. Everyone seems to be so busy and in such a hurry. It's easy to forget to stop and enjoy it. When I was a kid, Thanksgiving til Christmas seemed to take six months. Lately, it seems more like...
Today, Thanksgiving. Tomorrow, Christmas Eve. By the time I can reach out and grab it, I know it'll be already gone.
"By now in New York City, there's snow on the ground. And out in California, the sunshine's falling down. And maybe down in Memphis, Graceland's all in lights..."
I hope that you all had a good Thanksgiving. This year was a bit different for me, but I won't go into that. The food was good, had plenty to eat, and of course Mom sent home leftovers that I will be enjoying for the next few days.
This day always makes me think of so many things and brings to mind so many memories. I always think of Thanksgivings past. I think of family members who were here then, but now are gone. When I was a kid, I would always try to talk enough people into playing football out in the yard. After enough pestering, I could usually round up a handful of cousins and uncles for a game which always seemed too short to me. I think of those who can't be home for the holidays. I think of anyone who might spend this day alone, never seeing another person all day. I hope that there aren't very many people who experience that, but I am sure there are some. As wonderful and lively as the holidays are, I imagine that they can be very lonely and depressing for some. I hate that. Even today, I thought of a friend who might not have anywhere to go or anyone to spend Thanksgiving with, but did I call? I thought about it a couple of times, but just never did. When I was younger, I always looked forward to the seeing family aspect of the holidays. Even as I got into my teens, I would always try to get Mom to invite people over for Memorial Day, Labor Day, any holiday that most people get off of work.
Watched a little bit of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade this morning. To me, that sort of signifies the beginning of the holiday season. Miracle On 34th Street was on TV this morning, too. My favorite Christmas movie. Watched most of A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving tonight. And of course, I watched football most all day. Would have been a much better day if the Cowboys kicker could make a freakin' 34-yard field goal! But anyway, the holidays are here. I enjoy being out amongst the crowds and shopping for Christmas. I like the decorations, the lights, Santa in the mall, the cold, the snow. (Not that we get much of the latter two.) I like it all. Everyone seems to be so busy and in such a hurry. It's easy to forget to stop and enjoy it. When I was a kid, Thanksgiving til Christmas seemed to take six months. Lately, it seems more like...
Today, Thanksgiving. Tomorrow, Christmas Eve. By the time I can reach out and grab it, I know it'll be already gone.
"By now in New York City, there's snow on the ground. And out in California, the sunshine's falling down. And maybe down in Memphis, Graceland's all in lights..."
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Lookie, lookie, lookie...
Look what I found: Robin Scorpio's blog (Yes! From General Hospital! Thank me later...)
And don't forget, the Seinfeld DVD's came out today! I'm sure there's a Seinfeld fan somewhere on your holiday list.
OK, I'm not quite sure where to start with today's story, so... I'll just start. I was chatting with a friend yesterday about nothing in particular, when the conversation suddenly took an interesting turn...
Her: "Did I tell you that my pest control boy asked me out, and then like three weeks later he came and sprayed and kissed me when he left? WTF?" (*NOTE: "WTF" is a common internet phrase, usually indication a state of disbelief or bewilderment brought about by an unexpected occurrence.)
Me: "Whoa! No you did not. That's hilarious. Can I blog that?"
Her: "I guess."
Me: "On the lips?"
Her: "With tongue!"
Me: "Wow! So are you doubling up on your pest control coverage now?"
Her: "You better believe it."
Me: "So did you go out with him?"
Her: "No."
Me: "It's kinda like on Seinfeld that time when Jerry dates his maid. She comes over, doesn't clean, they sleep together, and he pays her before she leaves."
Her: "Well, he does spray and we didn't sleep together."
Me: "So he asked you out, you didn't go, and he comes over to spray for bugs and just kisses you? I think I've seen stuff like this on the internet, www.eroticexterminators.com.
Meanwhile, in a town not too far away, I had stopped off at the grocery store this afternoon to pick up a few things. I was over in frozen foods, where I had just selected a frozen pizza and placed in my cart, when I noticed a lady looking right at me, almost like she knew me. "I hate to bother you," she said. "But there's a carton of vanilla ice cream on the top shelf way in the back," she continued, pointing. "Do you mind seeing if you could reach it for me?" Now, let me just say here, that we as men love situations like this. If a man says he doesn't, he's either lying, or just a jerk. As Seinfeld said, we all kinda think of ourselves as some sort of low-level superheroes in our own world. Anyhow, back to our story...
I sprang into action, seizing the desired frozen dairy product with little difficulty, and handing it to the fair maiden awaiting at my side. She thanked me, and I proceeded down the aisle, which I suddenly noticed was populated with several females. And they all seemed to be looking my way in admiration. (OK, so maybe I just imagined the "in admiration" part.) I know it's not that big of a deal, but hey, we can't all be kissing bandits. And those shelves are kind of high. And fairly deep. Not many tall, virile young men in the grocery store at 4 in the afternoon. Perhaps I'll start stopping by more often.
"There will be no white flag above my door. I'm in love, and always will be..."
And don't forget, the Seinfeld DVD's came out today! I'm sure there's a Seinfeld fan somewhere on your holiday list.
OK, I'm not quite sure where to start with today's story, so... I'll just start. I was chatting with a friend yesterday about nothing in particular, when the conversation suddenly took an interesting turn...
Her: "Did I tell you that my pest control boy asked me out, and then like three weeks later he came and sprayed and kissed me when he left? WTF?" (*NOTE: "WTF" is a common internet phrase, usually indication a state of disbelief or bewilderment brought about by an unexpected occurrence.)
Me: "Whoa! No you did not. That's hilarious. Can I blog that?"
Her: "I guess."
Me: "On the lips?"
Her: "With tongue!"
Me: "Wow! So are you doubling up on your pest control coverage now?"
Her: "You better believe it."
Me: "So did you go out with him?"
Her: "No."
Me: "It's kinda like on Seinfeld that time when Jerry dates his maid. She comes over, doesn't clean, they sleep together, and he pays her before she leaves."
Her: "Well, he does spray and we didn't sleep together."
Me: "So he asked you out, you didn't go, and he comes over to spray for bugs and just kisses you? I think I've seen stuff like this on the internet, www.eroticexterminators.com.
Meanwhile, in a town not too far away, I had stopped off at the grocery store this afternoon to pick up a few things. I was over in frozen foods, where I had just selected a frozen pizza and placed in my cart, when I noticed a lady looking right at me, almost like she knew me. "I hate to bother you," she said. "But there's a carton of vanilla ice cream on the top shelf way in the back," she continued, pointing. "Do you mind seeing if you could reach it for me?" Now, let me just say here, that we as men love situations like this. If a man says he doesn't, he's either lying, or just a jerk. As Seinfeld said, we all kinda think of ourselves as some sort of low-level superheroes in our own world. Anyhow, back to our story...
I sprang into action, seizing the desired frozen dairy product with little difficulty, and handing it to the fair maiden awaiting at my side. She thanked me, and I proceeded down the aisle, which I suddenly noticed was populated with several females. And they all seemed to be looking my way in admiration. (OK, so maybe I just imagined the "in admiration" part.) I know it's not that big of a deal, but hey, we can't all be kissing bandits. And those shelves are kind of high. And fairly deep. Not many tall, virile young men in the grocery store at 4 in the afternoon. Perhaps I'll start stopping by more often.
"There will be no white flag above my door. I'm in love, and always will be..."
Monday, November 21, 2005
The new look of IYROOBTY!
I suppose it's long past time for a new template. So here it is! I mean, you're looking at it. Much thanks to Lass for the template help, and to Dea for a wonderful job on the sunset image. Let me know what you think about the new look.
While sitting at my computer last Tuesday night, adorned in boxers and a plain white t-shirt, listening to the Alabama basketball game online (which now costs $3.95 per month on Yahoo Sports) , chatting with a couple of blog friends, and half paying attention to the CMA Awards on TV (what woman wouldn't want this?), I did which of the following:
a) began to peruse this site
b) continued to scratch myself
c) began to do some introspection
While any of the above would have been a good guess, the correct answer on this particular night is C. (Women and children may want to skip the rest of this paragraph.) Introspection. Defined as a reflective looking inward. An examination of one's own thoughts or feelings. The pervading feeling of the past few months in my life has been change. In almost every imaginable way. Lately, I find myself feeling out of place in certain situations where I used to feel so comfortable. I feel sort of like I've suddenly matured. Things that I found entertaining or funny just a few months or a year ago recently just seem to irritate me. I've rediscovered some old friends, and find myself spending a little more time at home. I remember when I was younger, I used to think that if a Friday or Saturday night went by that I didn't go out, it was like the worst possible thing in the world. Like I was missing out on something. Now, even though I'm still out most weekend nights, I don't mind a night at home now and then. I cherish it, actually. But then I think, I'm 32 years old and single. I need to be out meeting people, right? And then I wonder if I'm getting too comfortable being single. I really don't mind it most of the time. And it seems like the older I get, the more used to it I become, and I am more and more content with it. That scares me.
So all these changes. Where will they lead? I know that most of the changes, all of them actually, have been good things. I know that I am really blessed to have wonderful people in my life. I guess this was a really random post, with no clear point or ending. That's introspection for ya.
Next time I think I'll just scratch myself.
"I feel stupid, but it's somethin' that comes and goes. I've been changin'. Think it's funny how no one knows..."
While sitting at my computer last Tuesday night, adorned in boxers and a plain white t-shirt, listening to the Alabama basketball game online (which now costs $3.95 per month on Yahoo Sports) , chatting with a couple of blog friends, and half paying attention to the CMA Awards on TV (what woman wouldn't want this?), I did which of the following:
a) began to peruse this site
b) continued to scratch myself
c) began to do some introspection
While any of the above would have been a good guess, the correct answer on this particular night is C. (Women and children may want to skip the rest of this paragraph.) Introspection. Defined as a reflective looking inward. An examination of one's own thoughts or feelings. The pervading feeling of the past few months in my life has been change. In almost every imaginable way. Lately, I find myself feeling out of place in certain situations where I used to feel so comfortable. I feel sort of like I've suddenly matured. Things that I found entertaining or funny just a few months or a year ago recently just seem to irritate me. I've rediscovered some old friends, and find myself spending a little more time at home. I remember when I was younger, I used to think that if a Friday or Saturday night went by that I didn't go out, it was like the worst possible thing in the world. Like I was missing out on something. Now, even though I'm still out most weekend nights, I don't mind a night at home now and then. I cherish it, actually. But then I think, I'm 32 years old and single. I need to be out meeting people, right? And then I wonder if I'm getting too comfortable being single. I really don't mind it most of the time. And it seems like the older I get, the more used to it I become, and I am more and more content with it. That scares me.
So all these changes. Where will they lead? I know that most of the changes, all of them actually, have been good things. I know that I am really blessed to have wonderful people in my life. I guess this was a really random post, with no clear point or ending. That's introspection for ya.
Next time I think I'll just scratch myself.
"I feel stupid, but it's somethin' that comes and goes. I've been changin'. Think it's funny how no one knows..."
Friday, November 18, 2005
He's my Lex Luthor!
Today is my sister's birthday. So, even though I'm quite sure (and hopeful that) none of my family reads my blog, happy birthday, sis!
So Big Sweaty (or, Big Stinky, as a friendmistakenly called him recently) comes in today as I'm chewing gum. He apparently thinks I'm eating something. He looks at me and says, "You consume quite a bit, don't you?" I give him this strange what-are-you-talking-about look for a second, thinking (Chris Rock voice) "I know yo' super size extra value meal eatin white $&% ain't sayin' somebody else eats a lot!" So I'm completely silent, still giving him the look. Then he says, "Oh, or are you chewing gum?" I mumble, "Yeah."
What the freak?! I mean, seriously, the guy is round! He'd move a lot faster if he tucked his head into his chins, pulled in his arms and legs, and rolled from place to place. So, I've come to the conclusion that Big Sweaty is my Newman. My Lex Luthor. (Not to be confused with Lex Luger.) I just hope those aren't kryptonite-laced twinkies he's been devouring.
(From episode #144, "The Andrea Doria")
"Newman is my sworn enemy. And he lives down the hall from my home. My home, Elaine! Where I sleep. Where I come to play with my toys."
More A Day in the Life of Bone...
So my doorbell rings this afternoon. I run downstairs and open the door to find this somewhat chubby kid on a bicycle there. He's kind of out of breath as he asks, "Is Rusty home?" Well, since I haven't lived here very long, I figure that Rusty must be a kid who lived here with the previous tenants. So I say, "Rusty doesn't live here anymore." Well you'd have thought the kid's puppy just died. Immediately, he gets this sad look on his face, like his best friend forever has moved away and didn't tell him. At this point, I'm not quite sure what to say. After a couple of seconds he starts looking around, looks up at the building, turns back to me and says, "Oh. I think I'm at the wrong door. Bye." Priceless.
Hope you all have exactly the kind of weekend that you need. And remember, thawing a turkey in the refrigerator takes approximately 24 hours per five pounds ;-) Roll Tide!
"Now it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table, but you only want the ones that you can't get..."
So Big Sweaty (or, Big Stinky, as a friend
What the freak?! I mean, seriously, the guy is round! He'd move a lot faster if he tucked his head into his chins, pulled in his arms and legs, and rolled from place to place. So, I've come to the conclusion that Big Sweaty is my Newman. My Lex Luthor. (Not to be confused with Lex Luger.) I just hope those aren't kryptonite-laced twinkies he's been devouring.
(From episode #144, "The Andrea Doria")
"Newman is my sworn enemy. And he lives down the hall from my home. My home, Elaine! Where I sleep. Where I come to play with my toys."
More A Day in the Life of Bone...
So my doorbell rings this afternoon. I run downstairs and open the door to find this somewhat chubby kid on a bicycle there. He's kind of out of breath as he asks, "Is Rusty home?" Well, since I haven't lived here very long, I figure that Rusty must be a kid who lived here with the previous tenants. So I say, "Rusty doesn't live here anymore." Well you'd have thought the kid's puppy just died. Immediately, he gets this sad look on his face, like his best friend forever has moved away and didn't tell him. At this point, I'm not quite sure what to say. After a couple of seconds he starts looking around, looks up at the building, turns back to me and says, "Oh. I think I'm at the wrong door. Bye." Priceless.
Hope you all have exactly the kind of weekend that you need. And remember, thawing a turkey in the refrigerator takes approximately 24 hours per five pounds ;-) Roll Tide!
"Now it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table, but you only want the ones that you can't get..."
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Thursday Thirteen: 1st attempt
Thirteen Things from the mind of Bone...
1) This is my first Thursday 13. Thank (or blame) InterstellarLass and Carnealian. One woman can be persuasive enough. But two? Forget about it. I'm human. I'm flesh and blood. What mortal man can resist their charms ;-) Again, my first time, so be gentle...
2) Tomorrow is my sister's birthday. She will be 25. I can't believe she will be 25. You have no idea how stoked I am that she loves Alabama football. She listens to sports talk radio on her way home from work. Yes! My tribute to her (a little sappy) can be found here.
3) Went shopping last night to find her a gift. Walking thru the parking lot to my car, the weather was cold, the wind was blowing. Felt like a scene from one of those movies where it's Christmas time in New York, and everything is decorated, and everyone is shopping, and I'm either about to go ice skating or have just been...
4) Four is my favorite number.
5) I should have written this. I could have. Gah! I could have been a millionaire, Jerry. I could have been a Festivus millionaire! Check out some of my festivus knowledge here.
6) I really want to celebrate Festivus this year. I mean, but with other people this time. That's it! December 23rd. Festivus dinner, including the feats of strength, the airing of grievances, etc. at Bone's! You're all invited. I'll get the aluminum pole out of the crawl space.
7) I haven't watched General Hospital all week. Anyone know what's been going on?
8) The low temperature here this morning was supposed to be 25 degrees. That's the Big F. Fahrenheit. Not Celsius. Not Kelvin. And do you think Big Sweaty had the heat on when I got to work? No! He must really save on energy costs in the winter. I guess with the food though, it balances out.
9) Two of my favorite things about cold weather: Hot chocolate and wearing hats (boggans, beanies, whatever).
10) Even though our "cold" weather only lasts 3-4 months at most here, for some reason, I have roughly twice as many winter clothes as summer clothes.
11) If you want to read my thoughts on this year's CMA Awards, you may do so here.
12) Seven days until Thanksgiving. You've got to be freaking joking me!
13) Probably doing birthday dinner with my sister tomorrow night. Saturday is the Iron Bowl. Alabama versus Auburn. Roll Tide! (And if Bama and ND get matched up in a bowl game, Carnealian, it's on! Like Donkey Kong!) ;-)
There, that wasn't so bad... for my first time!
Links to other Thursday Thirteens!
1. InterstellarLass
2. Jen
3. Texas_Ivy10
4. Carnealian
5. Sallwood
6. Renee
7.(leave your link in comments, I'll add you here!)
Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It's easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
"Spinning on that dizzy edge, I kissed her face and kissed her head. And dreamed of all the different ways I had to make her glow..."
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Just the way she is...
When she starts to worry that her hands are slightly wrinkled...
When she brushes her hair and notices a few strands of gray...
When she gets the first trace of a line on her forehead or beneath her eyes...
When she's put on ten pounds, and hopes no one has noticed...
When she wakes up one day and just suddenly feels older, out of touch...
When she wonders if she's still got it, if she still turns me on...
That's when I want her to know that I love her. Just the way she is.
She is real. That's what I love most about her. She is natural. And beautiful. I'll take her anyday over some magazine cover girl. And if she ever starts to doubt, then that's on me. It's my place to make sure she always knows. I love her imperfections. Her insecurities.
When she cries while watching Extreme Home Makeover, and tries to hide her tears from me, I can think of nothing more precious.
When she first wakes up in the morning and smiles that sleepy smile and says "Good morning" in her soft, sleepy voice, why can't she see that is when I think she's most beautiful.
And when she asks me if we're OK... Then I take her soft, delicate hand in mine, gently brush my fingers across her face and run them thru her hair, wrap my arms tightly around her body, which only grows sexier everyday, stare deep into those eyes that have loved and trusted me for so long, and make sure that she knows that I love her. Everyday. And I always will.
Just the way she is.
"I don't want clever conversation. Never want to work that hard. I just want someone that I can talk to. I want you just the way you are..."
When she brushes her hair and notices a few strands of gray...
When she gets the first trace of a line on her forehead or beneath her eyes...
When she's put on ten pounds, and hopes no one has noticed...
When she wakes up one day and just suddenly feels older, out of touch...
When she wonders if she's still got it, if she still turns me on...
That's when I want her to know that I love her. Just the way she is.
She is real. That's what I love most about her. She is natural. And beautiful. I'll take her anyday over some magazine cover girl. And if she ever starts to doubt, then that's on me. It's my place to make sure she always knows. I love her imperfections. Her insecurities.
When she cries while watching Extreme Home Makeover, and tries to hide her tears from me, I can think of nothing more precious.
When she first wakes up in the morning and smiles that sleepy smile and says "Good morning" in her soft, sleepy voice, why can't she see that is when I think she's most beautiful.
And when she asks me if we're OK... Then I take her soft, delicate hand in mine, gently brush my fingers across her face and run them thru her hair, wrap my arms tightly around her body, which only grows sexier everyday, stare deep into those eyes that have loved and trusted me for so long, and make sure that she knows that I love her. Everyday. And I always will.
Just the way she is.
"I don't want clever conversation. Never want to work that hard. I just want someone that I can talk to. I want you just the way you are..."
Monday, November 14, 2005
Another first (& California pics)
Just finished watching the Cowboys come from behind to beat the Eagles 21-20! I hope you all enjoyed that as much as I did, although I know some of you didn't. Hey, at least one of my teams won this weekend. It was tough driving home from the game Saturday. As you've probably heard by now, Bama lost in overtime, 16-13. I take losses much better now than I used to, however. I'm not sure if this is because I'm getting older or what. Maybe it's because losses have become much more frequent the past couple of years, unfortunately. Whatever the case, there was a time a few years ago when I'd go to my room and bury my head in a pillow for thirty minutes or more after Alabama lost a football game. Now I only do that on rare occasions, such as Jessica Sierra being voted off American Idol.
OK, on with tonight's post. Life has been full of change and new experiences lately. A new place to live. A newer car. My first massage. My first time to fly. My first trip to California. My first time to sing a Debbie Gibson song in a public forum. And tonight, I experienced yet another first. My first time to use an automatic dishwasher. Ever. OK, so perhaps this is not as earth-shattering as some of the other "firsts," but still. This is the first place I have ever lived with a dishwasher. Never had one growing up. So at last, I've crossed the threshold that separates Palmolive and dishpan hands from the sweet sound of the low hum of the automatic dishwasher. By the way, thanks to BE, who answered my questions on how to use said dishwasher. And this would probably be a good time to warn you that if you are a girl, especially a cute one, and I have your phone number, email address, and/or screen name, I am allowed and liable to contact you at any time to ask advice on things such as fashion, personal hygiene and grooming, cooking, and various other tasks.
I can only imagine the other firsts that are yet to come. My first pedicure? My first time to date sisters? Or roomates? (No, I never actually did that. Despite what you may hear, a few kisses and flirtatious groping does not constitute a date.) The possibilities are seemingly endless. Yes, it appears we've opened up a whole new can of worms here. And not gross, grimy bait worms either. But long, pretty, colorful worms. What the crap am I even talking about? Did I mention I only got about three hours of sleep last night? This would probably be a good time to mention that.
And on a completely random change of subject, here are a few pics from my trip last month to California (click to enlarge):
This one is actually my current wallpaper. Sunset on the Pacific Ocean...
The famed Hollywood sign. Despite my plans to take a picture while standing atop the "H" (or even better atop that tower just to the right of the sign), this would be about as close as I got...
And, another ocean pic...
Unfortunately, none of the pics of Jennifer and I turned out well enough to post. You know how girls can be about looking just right in pictures. Honestly, I think she's actually worried that Vince might see them. He's kinda been stalking me lately. He's really weird about me answering her phone. And me calling late at night to say she's left another pair of... um... sunglasses in my car. I'm like, baby, he's just a rebound guy. I think she's just about over it.
"Where I come from isn't all that great. My automobile is a piece of crap. My fashion sense is a little whack and my friends are just as screwy as me..."
OK, on with tonight's post. Life has been full of change and new experiences lately. A new place to live. A newer car. My first massage. My first time to fly. My first trip to California. My first time to sing a Debbie Gibson song in a public forum. And tonight, I experienced yet another first. My first time to use an automatic dishwasher. Ever. OK, so perhaps this is not as earth-shattering as some of the other "firsts," but still. This is the first place I have ever lived with a dishwasher. Never had one growing up. So at last, I've crossed the threshold that separates Palmolive and dishpan hands from the sweet sound of the low hum of the automatic dishwasher. By the way, thanks to BE, who answered my questions on how to use said dishwasher. And this would probably be a good time to warn you that if you are a girl, especially a cute one, and I have your phone number, email address, and/or screen name, I am allowed and liable to contact you at any time to ask advice on things such as fashion, personal hygiene and grooming, cooking, and various other tasks.
I can only imagine the other firsts that are yet to come. My first pedicure? My first time to date sisters? Or roomates? (No, I never actually did that. Despite what you may hear, a few kisses and flirtatious groping does not constitute a date.) The possibilities are seemingly endless. Yes, it appears we've opened up a whole new can of worms here. And not gross, grimy bait worms either. But long, pretty, colorful worms. What the crap am I even talking about? Did I mention I only got about three hours of sleep last night? This would probably be a good time to mention that.
And on a completely random change of subject, here are a few pics from my trip last month to California (click to enlarge):
This one is actually my current wallpaper. Sunset on the Pacific Ocean...
The famed Hollywood sign. Despite my plans to take a picture while standing atop the "H" (or even better atop that tower just to the right of the sign), this would be about as close as I got...
And, another ocean pic...
Unfortunately, none of the pics of Jennifer and I turned out well enough to post. You know how girls can be about looking just right in pictures. Honestly, I think she's actually worried that Vince might see them. He's kinda been stalking me lately. He's really weird about me answering her phone. And me calling late at night to say she's left another pair of... um... sunglasses in my car. I'm like, baby, he's just a rebound guy. I think she's just about over it.
"Where I come from isn't all that great. My automobile is a piece of crap. My fashion sense is a little whack and my friends are just as screwy as me..."
Sunday, November 13, 2005
The reunion episode
After a brief hiatus, the J&K Show is back. Starts off a little slow, but by the end, you too will be laughing with your pants around your ankles. Eighteen minutes and thirty-four seconds of auditory delight. It's podtastic!
(Click here to listen)
As always, comments, suggestions, and petitions to get the show banned from the internet forever are welcome.
"So if you want to love me, then darlin' don't refrain. Or I'll just end up walkin' in the cold November rain..."
(Click here to listen)
As always, comments, suggestions, and petitions to get the show banned from the internet forever are welcome.
"So if you want to love me, then darlin' don't refrain. Or I'll just end up walkin' in the cold November rain..."
Friday, November 11, 2005
I'm fixin' to blog
One thing I want to try to do more of on here is to share things about the southern lifestyle and growing up in the South. I realize there are lots of things that I do, say, know, think, believe, and experience, many of which aren't common in other parts of the country or the world. But when you've seemingly always known something, or always done things a certain way, it's easy to forget that. It wasn't until just a few years ago that I realized that sweet tea wasn't served nationwide. How do you people live!
One thing I do know is that pecan trees only "make" every other year. Maybe everyone knows that. It's just one of those little bits of information that you pick up somewhere along the way. We have a pecan tree at work. Two years ago, we had bunches of pecans. Last year, just a very, very few. So this year, we're due for a bumper crop, so to speak. Wednesday night, it got very windy here, so I went out yesterday just before I went home to see if there were many pecans. There were! I gathered them until my back began to hurt.
As usual, I came across a few which had already been eaten at by squirrels. It made me wonder if some squirrel wouldn't have enough to eat this winter because I was selfishly taking away its food. Am I interfering with the cycle of nature that God has put in place? Sometimes I wonder silly stuff like that.
When chatting with someone from another part of the country, I try to avoid using certain "southern" words or phrases, such as using "supper" to refer to the last meal of the day. Even though we all know that's what it is. But inevitably, something eventually slips out. A couple of other "southernisms" I've been caught using recently, include:
I'm fixin' to - As in, "I'm fixin' to get ready to go to the store." You might say, "I'm about to get ready to go to the store."
Hunt - As in, "I'm gonna hunt me something for supper." This doesn't usually actually involve the act of pursuing game for food or sport, but is more likely closely related to "I'm gonna try to find me something for supper," probably in a cabinet, refrigerator, or restaurant.
At least I think those are southernisms. Maybe they're just Boneisms. Either way.
In other news, my mother has been sick this week. She's still got her betta that I got her for Mothers Day this year. If you'll recall, I bought Pablo originally for her, but got so attached to him that I had to go back and get her a different one. So last night I was telling her how I've dreamed a few times that Pablo gets out of his tank when I'm changing his water, and ends up on the floor or something. So she's nodding as I'm telling her, and then tells me, "I dream that mine gets out of his tank at night and comes back to the bedroom and starts fighting." Wow! And I thought my fish dreams were weird...
Well, I think I'm fixin' to hunt me up something for lunch. Hope ya'll have a great weekend now, ya hear!
"Misty sunrise in my hometown, rows of cotton, 'bout knee high. Mrs. Baker down the dirt road, still got clothes out on the line..."
One thing I do know is that pecan trees only "make" every other year. Maybe everyone knows that. It's just one of those little bits of information that you pick up somewhere along the way. We have a pecan tree at work. Two years ago, we had bunches of pecans. Last year, just a very, very few. So this year, we're due for a bumper crop, so to speak. Wednesday night, it got very windy here, so I went out yesterday just before I went home to see if there were many pecans. There were! I gathered them until my back began to hurt.
As usual, I came across a few which had already been eaten at by squirrels. It made me wonder if some squirrel wouldn't have enough to eat this winter because I was selfishly taking away its food. Am I interfering with the cycle of nature that God has put in place? Sometimes I wonder silly stuff like that.
When chatting with someone from another part of the country, I try to avoid using certain "southern" words or phrases, such as using "supper" to refer to the last meal of the day. Even though we all know that's what it is. But inevitably, something eventually slips out. A couple of other "southernisms" I've been caught using recently, include:
I'm fixin' to - As in, "I'm fixin' to get ready to go to the store." You might say, "I'm about to get ready to go to the store."
Hunt - As in, "I'm gonna hunt me something for supper." This doesn't usually actually involve the act of pursuing game for food or sport, but is more likely closely related to "I'm gonna try to find me something for supper," probably in a cabinet, refrigerator, or restaurant.
At least I think those are southernisms. Maybe they're just Boneisms. Either way.
In other news, my mother has been sick this week. She's still got her betta that I got her for Mothers Day this year. If you'll recall, I bought Pablo originally for her, but got so attached to him that I had to go back and get her a different one. So last night I was telling her how I've dreamed a few times that Pablo gets out of his tank when I'm changing his water, and ends up on the floor or something. So she's nodding as I'm telling her, and then tells me, "I dream that mine gets out of his tank at night and comes back to the bedroom and starts fighting." Wow! And I thought my fish dreams were weird...
Well, I think I'm fixin' to hunt me up something for lunch. Hope ya'll have a great weekend now, ya hear!
"Misty sunrise in my hometown, rows of cotton, 'bout knee high. Mrs. Baker down the dirt road, still got clothes out on the line..."
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Back to being Bone
I just want to share what someone sent to me yesterday...
"Honestly though when you write your own (posts)... THEY ROCK... everyone likes the stories you tell, your humor, your voice... these memes (or whatever they are called) are fine... but we miss you."
I realize that is just one person's opinion, but I appreciate it so much. Compliments are priceless. We all have the ability to brighten someone's day just by a simple, honest compliment. And I need to do more of that. Anyway, I do apologize for all the memes and lists and such lately. My mind seems to be dwelling on the same things. Nothing bad really. Actually, quite the opposite. Just nothing that I am able or ready to blog, at least not yet. Today, I will start trying to get back to being the old familiar Bone. And by old, I mean, young and virile.
But I don't wanna be a pirate...
Let's start off today with the most important news, Seinfeld Seasons 5&6 to be released November 22. AND, the gift set features a puffy shirt collectible! I'm sure that's not going to be an actual-sized shirt. Visualize: Bone sitting around in boxers and puffy shirt, admiring how good the puffy shirt looks.
Tragedy in Port Charles
Am I the only one here who has been watching General Hospital lately? (I think I already know the answer to that.) There was a big train wreck, and like half of Port Charles was on the two trains. Alexis went into labor. Lucky might be dying. Lucky can't die! Can he? There's another new actress playing Carly. It's crazy, and if you can get past the fact that two trains collided head on and not a single person died instantly, quite real :-)
In other news...
The car has been doing fine. I came out of Wal-Mart the other night looking for my truck for just a few seconds before I caught myself. And, the birds seem to have selected my car for target practice this week. They seem to be aiming for the spoiler, and doing a very nice job of it. Probably some sort of revenge for the sparrow incident.
Planning on taking the car on its first trip to Tuscaloosa Saturday. It's the last home game of the year. ESPN GameDay is supposed to be there. I thought about taking a big banner with "LITTLENIBBLER.BLOGSPOT.COM" on it, and trying to get on TV. Watch for me, I'll be the one in crimson ;-) Every Friday this season, a few of us at work have worn our Bama shirts, for luck or whatever. (Hey it's worked so far.) Well, for some reason, when I got up this morning, I was thinking it was Friday, so I wore a Bama shirt today.
Big Sweaty's been sick since last Thursday. So I'm doubling up on my Clorox disinfecting wipes wipe-down each day, and also spraying a quarter-can of antibacterial disinfectant spray. I've also began taking an Airborne each morning before work, trying to avoid catching his disease. The secretary's even gotten in on the act. As soon as he leaves, she goes to every door knob in the building and wipes it down. Wheeeee! The germophobes shall prevail! (Unless he finds my blog, in which case he might sit on me, and I would be crushed to death, or suffer acute asphyxiation under the enormous weight of his extremely heavy, weeble-like body.)
I think this is the most links I've ever included in one entry. Have a great Thursday! Be good to each other...
"Well I don't drink as much as I used to. Lately, it just ain't my style. And the hard times don't hurt like they ought to. They pass quicker, like when I was a child..."
"Honestly though when you write your own (posts)... THEY ROCK... everyone likes the stories you tell, your humor, your voice... these memes (or whatever they are called) are fine... but we miss you."
I realize that is just one person's opinion, but I appreciate it so much. Compliments are priceless. We all have the ability to brighten someone's day just by a simple, honest compliment. And I need to do more of that. Anyway, I do apologize for all the memes and lists and such lately. My mind seems to be dwelling on the same things. Nothing bad really. Actually, quite the opposite. Just nothing that I am able or ready to blog, at least not yet. Today, I will start trying to get back to being the old familiar Bone. And by old, I mean, young and virile.
But I don't wanna be a pirate...
Let's start off today with the most important news, Seinfeld Seasons 5&6 to be released November 22. AND, the gift set features a puffy shirt collectible! I'm sure that's not going to be an actual-sized shirt. Visualize: Bone sitting around in boxers and puffy shirt, admiring how good the puffy shirt looks.
Tragedy in Port Charles
Am I the only one here who has been watching General Hospital lately? (I think I already know the answer to that.) There was a big train wreck, and like half of Port Charles was on the two trains. Alexis went into labor. Lucky might be dying. Lucky can't die! Can he? There's another new actress playing Carly. It's crazy, and if you can get past the fact that two trains collided head on and not a single person died instantly, quite real :-)
In other news...
The car has been doing fine. I came out of Wal-Mart the other night looking for my truck for just a few seconds before I caught myself. And, the birds seem to have selected my car for target practice this week. They seem to be aiming for the spoiler, and doing a very nice job of it. Probably some sort of revenge for the sparrow incident.
Planning on taking the car on its first trip to Tuscaloosa Saturday. It's the last home game of the year. ESPN GameDay is supposed to be there. I thought about taking a big banner with "LITTLENIBBLER.BLOGSPOT.COM" on it, and trying to get on TV. Watch for me, I'll be the one in crimson ;-) Every Friday this season, a few of us at work have worn our Bama shirts, for luck or whatever. (Hey it's worked so far.) Well, for some reason, when I got up this morning, I was thinking it was Friday, so I wore a Bama shirt today.
Big Sweaty's been sick since last Thursday. So I'm doubling up on my Clorox disinfecting wipes wipe-down each day, and also spraying a quarter-can of antibacterial disinfectant spray. I've also began taking an Airborne each morning before work, trying to avoid catching his disease. The secretary's even gotten in on the act. As soon as he leaves, she goes to every door knob in the building and wipes it down. Wheeeee! The germophobes shall prevail! (Unless he finds my blog, in which case he might sit on me, and I would be crushed to death, or suffer acute asphyxiation under the enormous weight of his extremely heavy, weeble-like body.)
I think this is the most links I've ever included in one entry. Have a great Thursday! Be good to each other...
"Well I don't drink as much as I used to. Lately, it just ain't my style. And the hard times don't hurt like they ought to. They pass quicker, like when I was a child..."
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Allow me to seduce you?
| Your Seduction Style: Fantasy Lover |
 You know that ideal love that each of us dreams of from childhood? That's you! Not because you posess all of the ideal characteristics, but because you are a savvy shape shifter. You have the uncanny ability to detect someone's particular fantasy... and make it you. You inspire each person to be an idealist and passionate, and you make each moment memorable. Even a simple coffee date with you can be the most romantic moment of someone's life. By giving your date exactly what he or she desires, you quickly become the ideal lover. Your abilities to make dreams come true is so strong, that you are often the love of many people's lives. Your ex's (and even people you have simply met or been friends with) long to be yours. No doubt you are the one others have dreamed of... your biggest challenge is finding *your* dream lover. |
What Kind of Seducer Are You?
Well, I don't know about all that. Haha! Not sure exactly how my responses to the eight question quiz led to those results, but it's a nice little fantasy, I guess.
"your biggest challenge is finding *your* dream lover."
Indeed. But they fail to tell me what to do once I have found her...
"She was crazy for you. Now she's part of something that you lost. And for all you know, this could be, the difference between what you need and what you want to be..."
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Eat at ??? (Bone's Best Eats)
Lindsy gave me this idea. Some of these are local places, but many are chains. List your favorite restaurants for the following items:
Salad: Olive Garden.
Soup: O'Charley's potato soup. After having been screwed there several times in the past, this is basically their only redeeming quality.
Sandwich: Quizno's. You don't know what you're missing, Jared!
Burger: Logan's Roadhouse. Cheeseburger with swiss, cheddar, and American. Mmmm.
Chicken fingers: Dairy Delite in Hartselle.
Wings: Hooters. Also good "atmosphere" here ;-)
Bread: Not sure if this counts, but Greenbrier's hush puppies. Mmmm!
Appetizer: Loaded cheese fries at Ruby Tuesday. Mmmm again.
Side item: Hashbrown casserole at Cracker Barrell.
BBQ: Famous Dave's. Ribs, chicken, wings, pork. Whatever. It's all the best.
Mexican: Nothing will ever beat Ole La Casa (that means, the old house... I think) in my book. But it closed about ten years ago. They would actually melt real cheese over the food, rather than using the cheese sauce, like everyone else does now. That was what set it apart. Otherwise, nothing really stands out above the rest. Las Vias, where we ate Sunday night, actually was very good, very clean, etc.
Italian: Olive Garden.
Pizza: I've always been a Dominos man. But the Pizza Inn I had a few weeks ago was actually really good. My least favorite is Pizza Hut.
Catfish: Greenbrier.
Seafood: Tim's Cajun Kitchen.
Steak: Western Sirloin in Moulton. Hands down. One of the only places that reliably cook the steak as ordered the first time.
Breakfast: Cracker Barrell.
Fast food: Chik-fil-a.
Dessert: Blackberry cobbler at Cracker Barrell. (I seem to be naming them a lot.)
Favorite overall restaurant: Tim's Cajun Kitchen.
Favorite restaurant out of business: The Sizzler! Steak and malibu chicken. Mmmm!
Anyone else hungry now? Feel free to steal this one, and add more categories if you like.
"Found myself alone, alone, alone above a raging sea, that stole the only girl I loved, and drowned her deep inside of me. You... soft and lonely. You... lost and lonely. You... just like heaven..."
Salad: Olive Garden.
Soup: O'Charley's potato soup. After having been screwed there several times in the past, this is basically their only redeeming quality.
Sandwich: Quizno's. You don't know what you're missing, Jared!
Burger: Logan's Roadhouse. Cheeseburger with swiss, cheddar, and American. Mmmm.
Chicken fingers: Dairy Delite in Hartselle.
Wings: Hooters. Also good "atmosphere" here ;-)
Bread: Not sure if this counts, but Greenbrier's hush puppies. Mmmm!
Appetizer: Loaded cheese fries at Ruby Tuesday. Mmmm again.
Side item: Hashbrown casserole at Cracker Barrell.
BBQ: Famous Dave's. Ribs, chicken, wings, pork. Whatever. It's all the best.
Mexican: Nothing will ever beat Ole La Casa (that means, the old house... I think) in my book. But it closed about ten years ago. They would actually melt real cheese over the food, rather than using the cheese sauce, like everyone else does now. That was what set it apart. Otherwise, nothing really stands out above the rest. Las Vias, where we ate Sunday night, actually was very good, very clean, etc.
Italian: Olive Garden.
Pizza: I've always been a Dominos man. But the Pizza Inn I had a few weeks ago was actually really good. My least favorite is Pizza Hut.
Catfish: Greenbrier.
Seafood: Tim's Cajun Kitchen.
Steak: Western Sirloin in Moulton. Hands down. One of the only places that reliably cook the steak as ordered the first time.
Breakfast: Cracker Barrell.
Fast food: Chik-fil-a.
Dessert: Blackberry cobbler at Cracker Barrell. (I seem to be naming them a lot.)
Favorite overall restaurant: Tim's Cajun Kitchen.
Favorite restaurant out of business: The Sizzler! Steak and malibu chicken. Mmmm!
Anyone else hungry now? Feel free to steal this one, and add more categories if you like.
"Found myself alone, alone, alone above a raging sea, that stole the only girl I loved, and drowned her deep inside of me. You... soft and lonely. You... lost and lonely. You... just like heaven..."
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Dear Bone: The Column
I had my first experience with a shrimp burrito tonight at Las Vias. (That means, "the vias." I was Spanish Club president.) So... I don't know.
Today, we're starting a new feature here on If You Read Only One Blog This Year, called "Dear Bone." I got the idea from an email I received from a reader this past week, asking me a question about a subject on which he considered me somewhat of an expert: restroom etiquette. I started thinking that this would be a good feature for the blog. So, if you have questions for me, you can email them to me and I will answer selected questions periodically on my blog. Or, this will be the only one I ever do. Either way. So, here's our first letter:
Today, we're starting a new feature here on If You Read Only One Blog This Year, called "Dear Bone." I got the idea from an email I received from a reader this past week, asking me a question about a subject on which he considered me somewhat of an expert: restroom etiquette. I started thinking that this would be a good feature for the blog. So, if you have questions for me, you can email them to me and I will answer selected questions periodically on my blog. Or, this will be the only one I ever do. Either way. So, here's our first letter:
Dear Bone,
I had an encounter last night and I desperately seek your advice. I was in between classes and, as you might guess, seemingly everyone takes a potty break. There are two restrooms that I can use and I choose to walk about 50 feet further to avoid a crowded restroom and the chance of someone violating Bone's Restroom Etiquette. I walk in and there are a couple of guys who apparently had the same idea.
Nonetheless, there are two stalls and three urinals. I really had to go. I just walked in and turned toward the first urinal next to the wall. As I unzipped, I realized that the guy I passed in the restroom used the same urinal because it was still flushing. I mean, it would be obvious to use that urinal since it is clearly within the bounds of proper etiquette, so the guy before me must know about the rules, too. I begin to get worried about the timing of my use of the urinal because there might be some lingering germs that are still in the air and haven't settled or, even worse, I could get splashed! I continue to empty my bladder and go back to class but if I find that I violated "Bone's Restroom Etiquette," I may very well have to seek professional counseling.
Please address this situation with the care it deserves.
Thank you,
Buzz
----------------------------
Buzz,
Let me start by saying you likely will not need professional counseling. Well, not for this anyway. Just from the fact that you took the time to email me with your question lets me know you are a very conscientious urinator, as am I. It gives me great comfort to know that if I were in a public restroom urinating, and you were to enter, I could rest assured that you would not pick a urinal next to me. Any friend of proper urinal etiquette is a friend of mine. If only everyone were like us. But I digress. Now, on to your question.
My first advice for you is to never let situations like this sneak up on you. As you're walking towards the restroom, you should be completely prepared for every possible situation you might be confronted with once you pass thru those doors. With this particular "encounter" as you call it, the clear and present danger that I see is splatterage, or as you say, "being splashed." You are right to be concerned about this. Some toilets, urinals especially, may have a very powerful flush, causing droplets of water, urine, and who knows what else to escape the confines of the porcelain receptacle. If you are contacted by any such splatterage, obviously, you would need to remove and burn any clothes which you were wearing as soon as possible.
I see two ways you could have better handled this situation. The obvious one is to go to the next available urinal. From reading your letter, it appears that no one else was "on the line" at this time, so you could have shifted down one spot. Although with a three urinal configuration, the other end urinal would be the preferred peeing position. Secondly, if you see that there is flushing in progress as you approach, you might slow down your approach a bit, giving everything a bit more time to calm down by the time you address the stall.
I hope this advice has helped. By practicing proper urinal and restroom etiquette, these decisions will eventually become second nature to you, and you will no longer have to think. And let's face it, as men, the less we have to think, the better.
Your friend,
Bone
PS - Please never use the word "potty" ever again. And I hope that this is the only time you ever use the phrase "as I unzipped" when communicating with me.
(If you have questions for Bone or would like to seek his advice, please send an email to Dear Bone. Responses to selected emails posted on this blog. If you do not wish for your name to be used, please choose an alias, or one will be selected for you.)
"But it's just the price I pay. Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes. I'm Mister Brightside..."
Thursday, November 03, 2005
The K-12 Meme
This is a fairly simple meme, for those of us who proudly display our high school diplomas, or GED certificates. List something you remember from each grade of school:
Kindergarten - I just remember moving like halfway thru the year. The school I went to the first half of the year is about to be torn down now. And I remember playing kickball a lot.
1st grade - About the only thing I remember from first grade is sitting behind some kid who would always steal my pencils and other supplies while we were out of the room. And not just regular pencils, but the really cool, big fat ones.
2nd grade- My Mom was picking me up from school one day and told me that President Reagan had been shot. I went back inside to tell my teacher and she didn't believe me. It traumatized me because I was very honest. The next day she apologized to me in front of the class, which was just gay.
3rd grade - Hmm. I remember the first day of third grade, this kid, JO, was in the hall crying. I'm thinking, dude, we're in third grade now. Grow up. Crying is sooo first grade. I was also in the same class with the guy who is now like known for being a local drug lord.
4th grade - I kinda thought my 4th grade teacher was hot. Miss Thompson. Oh yes. Also got into a fight with this kid, PT. He slapped me, like girl slapped me, really hard. And it hurt.
5th grade - Had my favorite teacher ever this year. I lost in the grade-wide spelling bee and started crying. When I got back to my room she had ordered balloons and had them at my desk. Looking back that was very nice. And also somewhat gay.
6th grade - This was the year I had my black fake-leather Michael Jackson jacket with zippers. The first day I wore it, my science teacher, probably having no idea who Michael Jackson was, called it a motorcycle jacket. Years later, he was bagging my groceries at a local grocery store. Talk about a poor pension plan.
7th grade - I remember JO, the crying kid from 3rd grade, smelled really bad one day, so the teacher made him leave the room and she went and sprayed like half a can of lysol around his now-empty desk. This was also the year of the Challenger explosion, I think, and I remember watching the news coverage at school.
8th grade - Played 8th grade basketball. We would practice with the 9th graders. And I remember they'd always pick on us. One practice, they took this one guy, TH, back in the locker room and stuck a pacifier in his mouth. Looking back, I wonder where they even got a pacifier. Also, this one kid, AP, and I would always buy and bring Now or Later candy to school and sell it for profit. Quite the little entrepreneur I was.
9th grade - For some reason, probably my haircut, and because I've almost always curled my lip when I smile, I earned the nickname "Elvis" in English class this year. Yeah. As you might imagine, it was great. Fortunately, once I got a haircut, the Elvis moniker, much like my tight-rolled Levis, faded.
10th grade - This one dude, JG, would always ask to borrow a pen from this other dude, JL. So at the end of class, JG would act like he was returning the pen, and he'd toss it towards JL, who sat near a window. But everytime, JG would throw it way over JL's head and it would go out the window and into the courtyard. We all got a big laugh out of that trick. The teacher in that class wouldn't let JL climb out the window. So one day I'm sitting in my next class and JL, who's not even in that class, comes in and asks that teacher if he could climb out her window to get his pen, and she let him.
11th grade - This was the year of the potpourri incident. Now that the statute of limitations has safely passed, I can finally talk about it. During break one day, someone dared me to spray potpourri into our teachers water glass. Well, I did. She came in to start class, immediately went for her glass. She drank, stood there for a few seconds, then left the room. When she came back in, she asked who had done it. No one would confess or tell, so she closed the door and closed all the windows and sprayed two cans of potpourri in the room and made us sit there. Oh, and I think this was the year where for like a week or two, this girl, LG, who was an office aide one period, would come and get me out of class and we'd make out in the hall. Those were the days.
12th grade - I honestly don't remember much about this year, oddly. Just having fun the whole year and not doing very much schoolwork at all. Sitting in annual staff one day, we were watching TV, and I started getting these blind spots. That was my first migraine headache, although I had no idea what it was at the time. Oh yeah, and I didn't get to go on my senior trip because of the "gym incident." More on that later. Maybe.
Tune in next week for Saved By The Bone: The College Years :-)
Couldn't help but think of this Seinfeld dialogue with the high school thing. From episode #72, "The Barber":
Elaine: "OK, our next bachelor is number, um, 124, on your program. He's uh, he's a high school graduate."
(Kramer whispers something to her.)
Kramer: "Oh, uh equivalency. A high school equivalency program graduate. He's um, self-employed. He's, I don't know, six foot three, a hundred ninety pounds. He likes, uh, fruit. And he just got a haircut."
"Goodbye, farewell, so long, vaya con Dios. Good luck, wish you well, take it slow. Easy come, girl, easy go..."
Kindergarten - I just remember moving like halfway thru the year. The school I went to the first half of the year is about to be torn down now. And I remember playing kickball a lot.
1st grade - About the only thing I remember from first grade is sitting behind some kid who would always steal my pencils and other supplies while we were out of the room. And not just regular pencils, but the really cool, big fat ones.
2nd grade- My Mom was picking me up from school one day and told me that President Reagan had been shot. I went back inside to tell my teacher and she didn't believe me. It traumatized me because I was very honest. The next day she apologized to me in front of the class, which was just gay.
3rd grade - Hmm. I remember the first day of third grade, this kid, JO, was in the hall crying. I'm thinking, dude, we're in third grade now. Grow up. Crying is sooo first grade. I was also in the same class with the guy who is now like known for being a local drug lord.
4th grade - I kinda thought my 4th grade teacher was hot. Miss Thompson. Oh yes. Also got into a fight with this kid, PT. He slapped me, like girl slapped me, really hard. And it hurt.
5th grade - Had my favorite teacher ever this year. I lost in the grade-wide spelling bee and started crying. When I got back to my room she had ordered balloons and had them at my desk. Looking back that was very nice. And also somewhat gay.
6th grade - This was the year I had my black fake-leather Michael Jackson jacket with zippers. The first day I wore it, my science teacher, probably having no idea who Michael Jackson was, called it a motorcycle jacket. Years later, he was bagging my groceries at a local grocery store. Talk about a poor pension plan.
7th grade - I remember JO, the crying kid from 3rd grade, smelled really bad one day, so the teacher made him leave the room and she went and sprayed like half a can of lysol around his now-empty desk. This was also the year of the Challenger explosion, I think, and I remember watching the news coverage at school.
8th grade - Played 8th grade basketball. We would practice with the 9th graders. And I remember they'd always pick on us. One practice, they took this one guy, TH, back in the locker room and stuck a pacifier in his mouth. Looking back, I wonder where they even got a pacifier. Also, this one kid, AP, and I would always buy and bring Now or Later candy to school and sell it for profit. Quite the little entrepreneur I was.
9th grade - For some reason, probably my haircut, and because I've almost always curled my lip when I smile, I earned the nickname "Elvis" in English class this year. Yeah. As you might imagine, it was great. Fortunately, once I got a haircut, the Elvis moniker, much like my tight-rolled Levis, faded.
10th grade - This one dude, JG, would always ask to borrow a pen from this other dude, JL. So at the end of class, JG would act like he was returning the pen, and he'd toss it towards JL, who sat near a window. But everytime, JG would throw it way over JL's head and it would go out the window and into the courtyard. We all got a big laugh out of that trick. The teacher in that class wouldn't let JL climb out the window. So one day I'm sitting in my next class and JL, who's not even in that class, comes in and asks that teacher if he could climb out her window to get his pen, and she let him.
11th grade - This was the year of the potpourri incident. Now that the statute of limitations has safely passed, I can finally talk about it. During break one day, someone dared me to spray potpourri into our teachers water glass. Well, I did. She came in to start class, immediately went for her glass. She drank, stood there for a few seconds, then left the room. When she came back in, she asked who had done it. No one would confess or tell, so she closed the door and closed all the windows and sprayed two cans of potpourri in the room and made us sit there. Oh, and I think this was the year where for like a week or two, this girl, LG, who was an office aide one period, would come and get me out of class and we'd make out in the hall. Those were the days.
12th grade - I honestly don't remember much about this year, oddly. Just having fun the whole year and not doing very much schoolwork at all. Sitting in annual staff one day, we were watching TV, and I started getting these blind spots. That was my first migraine headache, although I had no idea what it was at the time. Oh yeah, and I didn't get to go on my senior trip because of the "gym incident." More on that later. Maybe.
Tune in next week for Saved By The Bone: The College Years :-)
Couldn't help but think of this Seinfeld dialogue with the high school thing. From episode #72, "The Barber":
Elaine: "OK, our next bachelor is number, um, 124, on your program. He's uh, he's a high school graduate."
(Kramer whispers something to her.)
Kramer: "Oh, uh equivalency. A high school equivalency program graduate. He's um, self-employed. He's, I don't know, six foot three, a hundred ninety pounds. He likes, uh, fruit. And he just got a haircut."
"Goodbye, farewell, so long, vaya con Dios. Good luck, wish you well, take it slow. Easy come, girl, easy go..."
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Stupid philematophobes
Today's entry stems from an article I was reading on MSN.com the other day. Now, according to this article, the five most common fears, or phobias, are:
1. Fear of snakes (ophidiophobia)
2. Fear of giving a speech (glossophobia)
3. Fear of heights (acrophobia)
4. Fear of rodents (musophobia)
5. Fear of flying (aviophobia)
Whatever happened to the fear of dying? You know, good ol' kickthebucketophobia. Ripophobia. (These are all medical terms. No need to concern yourself with them.) I thought that used to be right up there near the top. Are people not that concerned about buying the farm anymore? Does the thought of having your blood drained and your eyelids sewn shut not bother anyone anymore? Perhaps everyone has joined that we're-gonna-live-forever cult. Maybe I'm the only one who hasn't. ::Looking around suspiciously:: I better google it, just to be sure.
The article also mentions some less-common fears, such as:
Pteronophobia - fear of being tickled with feathers. (A fear? I've known someone with an affinity for that.)
Philematophobia - fear of kissing. (I went out with a couple of girls who apparently had this, although I wasn't aware of it at the time. Stupid philematophobes.)
Gerontophobia - fear of old people.
Peladophobia - fear of bald people.
Geropeladophobia - fear of old, bald people. (Seriously.)
Seems there is a name for almost every possible phobia. But just in case, I have come up with a few suggestions of names for some lesser known phobias:
Fear of old, bald people with pacemakers: cheneyophobia
Fear of excruciatingly irritating voices: drescherophobia
Fear of bad toupees: trumpophobia
Fear of having an unpopular blog: zerocommentophobia
Fear of bad acting: keanuphobia
Fear of loud, crotch-grabbing, fat women: roseannophobia
Fear of medicine: cruisophobia
Fear of being attacked by pro basketball player: artestophobia
Fear of a drunk driver crashing into your house: pianomanophobia (Say that one out loud. It's fun!)
Fear of talking like Snoop Dogg: izzlephobizzle
And last, but not least...
The fear of being massaged by another man will from now on be known as: bonephobia
Oh, and bonus points for the first person who knows where today's lyrics are from.
"So look long at that Christmas tree. It may be the last one that you see. Decorate your house in green and red, cos someday you'll be dead..."
1. Fear of snakes (ophidiophobia)
2. Fear of giving a speech (glossophobia)
3. Fear of heights (acrophobia)
4. Fear of rodents (musophobia)
5. Fear of flying (aviophobia)
Whatever happened to the fear of dying? You know, good ol' kickthebucketophobia. Ripophobia. (These are all medical terms. No need to concern yourself with them.) I thought that used to be right up there near the top. Are people not that concerned about buying the farm anymore? Does the thought of having your blood drained and your eyelids sewn shut not bother anyone anymore? Perhaps everyone has joined that we're-gonna-live-forever cult. Maybe I'm the only one who hasn't. ::Looking around suspiciously:: I better google it, just to be sure.
The article also mentions some less-common fears, such as:
Pteronophobia - fear of being tickled with feathers. (A fear? I've known someone with an affinity for that.)
Philematophobia - fear of kissing. (I went out with a couple of girls who apparently had this, although I wasn't aware of it at the time. Stupid philematophobes.)
Gerontophobia - fear of old people.
Peladophobia - fear of bald people.
Geropeladophobia - fear of old, bald people. (Seriously.)
Seems there is a name for almost every possible phobia. But just in case, I have come up with a few suggestions of names for some lesser known phobias:
Fear of old, bald people with pacemakers: cheneyophobia
Fear of excruciatingly irritating voices: drescherophobia
Fear of bad toupees: trumpophobia
Fear of having an unpopular blog: zerocommentophobia
Fear of bad acting: keanuphobia
Fear of loud, crotch-grabbing, fat women: roseannophobia
Fear of medicine: cruisophobia
Fear of being attacked by pro basketball player: artestophobia
Fear of a drunk driver crashing into your house: pianomanophobia (Say that one out loud. It's fun!)
Fear of talking like Snoop Dogg: izzlephobizzle
And last, but not least...
The fear of being massaged by another man will from now on be known as: bonephobia
Oh, and bonus points for the first person who knows where today's lyrics are from.
"So look long at that Christmas tree. It may be the last one that you see. Decorate your house in green and red, cos someday you'll be dead..."
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
I think the key is...
(Bone channels Dr. Phil? Or More about Bone than you wanted to know. Probably choice B.)
So I had nine trick-or-treaters last night. Not many, but more than at my other place. There was a group of three, then a group of five, then one little girl. The group of five included one person bigger than me, with a trick or treat bag. What the crap?! OK, if you want to go along with the kids, that is more than fine. Just don't carry a bag. Among the costumes that I can remember, there was a Spiderman, an angel, a ninja, she-devil, and Tinkerbell. To Tinkerbell, I said, "What are you, an angel?" She said, "No, I'm Tinkerbell." The little kids are soo cute! Just makes me want to have one. Of course, not being able to reproduce asexually, there are a couple of obstacles in my way. Then again, I hear kids screaming in restaurants, running wild thru the mall, and misbehaving in general, and, well, I'm glad that I don't.
I know, I know, once I have my own, my whole outlook and opinion will change. And I have no doubt that this is true. I saw evidence of this in a friend of mine recently. He and his wife had their first child and several months later, I asked him to go do something one night. It was something that normally, he always would have been up for. But instead, this time he said he didn't know, and that he might just come home from work and play with his son that night. Which is what he did. Amazing.
On the other hand, I know people who are married. And several of them are having problems, or just don't seem very happy. And though they won't say it, I can almost see that they regret it. I imagine that some of them wish they were still single, or long to be single again. Then I hear single friends wondering if they'll ever get married, almost like they are longing for that. I hate knowing friends are unhappy. I would rather be unhappy if it meant that someone I care about would be happy. Does that make sense? Maybe everyone is like that. It's just that if I know someone I care about is unhappy, that almost always takes precedence to whatever I might be dealing with in my life at that time. When everyone else is happy, I'm happy. Sorry, got off on a little tangent there.
The grass always looks greener on the other side. That saying hasn't been around for eight eons for nothing. It may look better, but more times than not, it probably isn't. Sure, being single has a lot of advantages. Girls. Massages. Sitting around in your underwear. Not shaving for three days. (Note to self: Evaluate my definition of advantages.) If I want to stay out until 4:00 in the morning, I don't have to tell anyone (usually). If I want to get a massage every week, who's stopping me? I can take off and fly across the country or drive down to the beach on a whim. There's no one else to consider. I can date whomever I like, or no one at all.
But there are plenty of advantages to being married and having children, too. I may have said this before, but I cannot imagine someone committing to spend the rest of her life with me, as my partner, as one. Think about that. Far as I know, we only have one life here on Earth. And out of the millions and billions of people in the world, he/she chose you to spend their one life with. That is amazing. And children. How could children not be considered a blessing. I imagine that having children, someone being born into this world who is a part of you, someone who depends on you for their very survival, safety, and well-being, watching them grow and live and learn, would be... awesome beyond words. And I have always said that if I'm never married, that I want to adopt a child someday.
I do wonder sometimes if I'll ever get married. I mean, when my parents were my age, they had two kids and had been married for 11 years! That's just freaky to think about. Not to mention, my clock is ticking ladies! I mean, come on, sure Kenny Rogers had kids at 60, but just because The Gambler can do it doesn't necessarily mean I can. Then it seems like society has the idea that you have to get married. And I hate that. It doesn't bother me. But I've had female friends especially, wonderful girls, tell me they feel pressure if they're not married by a certain age. And that shouldn't be. At all. Then my mind returns to those I know who are unhappily married. So, be careful what you wish for. Boy, I'm just a walking cliche today.
I think the key is finding contentment. Whatever your situation. And finding happiness within yourself, with who you are. Then you'll be able to enjoy being single, or being with someone else, much more. Not that I claim to know it all. Or even very much. These are just my opinions. So for now, I really enjoy the good things about being single. Really ;-) Because I know that one day my life may be different and I won't have those anymore. I'll have new blessings. Different advantages.
I just hope that I still have time to blog ;-)
You had to be there...
(A light-hearted conversation inspired by last night's Tinkerbell trick-or-treater)
"Is Tinkerbell a boy or girl? And if he's a boy, is he gay?"
"Girl. But if it was a guy, definitely would be gay."
"Is she the one with Peter Pan?"
"She was in love with Peter Pan."
"So Peter effing Pan can get a girl and I can't?"
"No, he was in love with Wendy."
"So Peter Pan can get two girls! Great."
"No. Wendy didn't like Peter, Tink did."
"Oh, OK."
"And he liked Wendy. Not Tink."
"I may blog this conversation."
"I hope that I find what I'm reaching for, the way that it is in my mind. I hope that I won't be that wrong anymore, and maybe I have learned this time. Someday I'll get over you. I'll live to see it all through. But I'll always miss dreaming my dreams with you..."
So I had nine trick-or-treaters last night. Not many, but more than at my other place. There was a group of three, then a group of five, then one little girl. The group of five included one person bigger than me, with a trick or treat bag. What the crap?! OK, if you want to go along with the kids, that is more than fine. Just don't carry a bag. Among the costumes that I can remember, there was a Spiderman, an angel, a ninja, she-devil, and Tinkerbell. To Tinkerbell, I said, "What are you, an angel?" She said, "No, I'm Tinkerbell." The little kids are soo cute! Just makes me want to have one. Of course, not being able to reproduce asexually, there are a couple of obstacles in my way. Then again, I hear kids screaming in restaurants, running wild thru the mall, and misbehaving in general, and, well, I'm glad that I don't.
I know, I know, once I have my own, my whole outlook and opinion will change. And I have no doubt that this is true. I saw evidence of this in a friend of mine recently. He and his wife had their first child and several months later, I asked him to go do something one night. It was something that normally, he always would have been up for. But instead, this time he said he didn't know, and that he might just come home from work and play with his son that night. Which is what he did. Amazing.
On the other hand, I know people who are married. And several of them are having problems, or just don't seem very happy. And though they won't say it, I can almost see that they regret it. I imagine that some of them wish they were still single, or long to be single again. Then I hear single friends wondering if they'll ever get married, almost like they are longing for that. I hate knowing friends are unhappy. I would rather be unhappy if it meant that someone I care about would be happy. Does that make sense? Maybe everyone is like that. It's just that if I know someone I care about is unhappy, that almost always takes precedence to whatever I might be dealing with in my life at that time. When everyone else is happy, I'm happy. Sorry, got off on a little tangent there.
The grass always looks greener on the other side. That saying hasn't been around for eight eons for nothing. It may look better, but more times than not, it probably isn't. Sure, being single has a lot of advantages. Girls. Massages. Sitting around in your underwear. Not shaving for three days. (Note to self: Evaluate my definition of advantages.) If I want to stay out until 4:00 in the morning, I don't have to tell anyone (usually). If I want to get a massage every week, who's stopping me? I can take off and fly across the country or drive down to the beach on a whim. There's no one else to consider. I can date whomever I like, or no one at all.
But there are plenty of advantages to being married and having children, too. I may have said this before, but I cannot imagine someone committing to spend the rest of her life with me, as my partner, as one. Think about that. Far as I know, we only have one life here on Earth. And out of the millions and billions of people in the world, he/she chose you to spend their one life with. That is amazing. And children. How could children not be considered a blessing. I imagine that having children, someone being born into this world who is a part of you, someone who depends on you for their very survival, safety, and well-being, watching them grow and live and learn, would be... awesome beyond words. And I have always said that if I'm never married, that I want to adopt a child someday.
I do wonder sometimes if I'll ever get married. I mean, when my parents were my age, they had two kids and had been married for 11 years! That's just freaky to think about. Not to mention, my clock is ticking ladies! I mean, come on, sure Kenny Rogers had kids at 60, but just because The Gambler can do it doesn't necessarily mean I can. Then it seems like society has the idea that you have to get married. And I hate that. It doesn't bother me. But I've had female friends especially, wonderful girls, tell me they feel pressure if they're not married by a certain age. And that shouldn't be. At all. Then my mind returns to those I know who are unhappily married. So, be careful what you wish for. Boy, I'm just a walking cliche today.
I think the key is finding contentment. Whatever your situation. And finding happiness within yourself, with who you are. Then you'll be able to enjoy being single, or being with someone else, much more. Not that I claim to know it all. Or even very much. These are just my opinions. So for now, I really enjoy the good things about being single. Really ;-) Because I know that one day my life may be different and I won't have those anymore. I'll have new blessings. Different advantages.
I just hope that I still have time to blog ;-)
You had to be there...
(A light-hearted conversation inspired by last night's Tinkerbell trick-or-treater)
"Is Tinkerbell a boy or girl? And if he's a boy, is he gay?"
"Girl. But if it was a guy, definitely would be gay."
"Is she the one with Peter Pan?"
"She was in love with Peter Pan."
"So Peter effing Pan can get a girl and I can't?"
"No, he was in love with Wendy."
"So Peter Pan can get two girls! Great."
"No. Wendy didn't like Peter, Tink did."
"Oh, OK."
"And he liked Wendy. Not Tink."
"I may blog this conversation."
"I hope that I find what I'm reaching for, the way that it is in my mind. I hope that I won't be that wrong anymore, and maybe I have learned this time. Someday I'll get over you. I'll live to see it all through. But I'll always miss dreaming my dreams with you..."
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