Monday, October 17, 2011

10 Day You Challenge - Seven Wants

SEVEN WANTS

UNO
This is the Canon EOS Rebel T2i. I mentioned that I wanted this back when I was making birthday requests. I didn't get one. I still want one. 'Kay thanks...

DOS
The Flip UltraHD Video Camera is another one that I mentioned before my birthday. I still don't have one of those either.


TRES
Yep, you guessed it. I still don't have an electric razor. I just don't ever buy things for myself.

CUATRO
The Community Season 2 DVD. For the record, I never got the first season on DVD, so I'd like both seasons. I just thought it would be overly redundant to throw pictures of both of the DVDs up there.

CINCO
Who doesn't want a DeLorean? Mostly I just want it if it's tricked out to look like this. The one from Back to the Future. I'm gonna need a flux capacitor too.

SEIS
I want a smart phone. It doesn't necessarily have to be a Droid. I won't be too picky. I'd just like to be able to access the internet on occasion. Oh, and play Angry Birds.

SIETE
If you can't tell, this is a bowl of Frosted Flakes. You wouldn't believe how easy it is to take these things for granted when you have access to your own bowls and milk. I don't have my own bowls. And I'm not sure about the milk situation. But I miss the Frosted Flakes. And I kind of miss Cinnamon Toast Crunch too.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Question of the Week: Under Strong Advisement

If you decided to do something and your friends strongly advised you not to, could you do it anyway?

While I absolutely value the opinion of my friends, ultimately, whatever this decision is, it's my decision to make. I'm the one who would have to live with whatever consequences may arise. On the other hand, I'm the one who would enjoy the rewards if it turned out to be a good decision. Life is full of risk and no matter what, we are a product of the choices we've made.

I've been there, though. While I don't like to give unsolicited advice, I have been the one to give advice and not have it followed. Being that friend, it kind of makes it hard to want to help out when asked. But I don't like to say, "I told you so," either. So my hope, if I had friends who were strongly advising me to not do something and I did it anyway, and it turned out to be a mistake, is that they wouldn't hold it against me. That turned into a really bad sentence. Anyway, I hope they would just continue to be my friends no matter what.

*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

10 Day You Challenge - Eight Fears


EIGHT FEARS

1. Clowns. I don't feel the need to elaborate on that. I've elaborated plenty of times in the past.
2. Disappointing Others. A lot of the time I honestly don't care what others think of me. But there are a chosen few that I never want to disappoint.
3. Snakes. If Indiana Jones can be afraid of them, so can I.
4. Being the Least Funny Person In the Room. Yeah, I'm sure there's an official name for that phobia, I just don't feel like looking it up.
5. Research. See what I just did there?
6. Zombies. Though I think if I were faced with real zombies, I could hold my own.
7. Foreign Currency. You should see how badly I freak out when someone accidentally passes me a Canadian quarter.
8. Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance. He scares the bejeezus out of me. His legs flail about as if independent from his body!

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

The Fugitive

This morning I woke up with the theme song from Where in the World Is Carmen Sandiego stuck in my head. If you grew up around the same time as me, it probably just got stuck in your head too. It's that song by the group Rockapella from the PBS game show that was on in the early to mid-90s. It's kind of classic.

I couldn't understand why my mind would have this song on a continuous loop. Beyond that, I couldn't understand how it's possible that I remember so many of the lyrics as accurately as I do. I know I haven't heard that song in many, many years. And yet, there it was.

It may have something to do with this week's episode of Saturday Night Live. They did a sketch mocking Hank Williams, Jr. and the Fox and Friends incident. As part of the mockery, they ran a quick list of corrections that the fact-checkers had to come through and supposedly fix because the on-air personalities made some pretty wild claims. One of these throw away gags was "President Obama did not pardon Carmen Sandiego." That little blurb was probably just enough to plant a seed in my brain. And that seed took root.

Throughout the day, I kept thinking about Carmen Sandiego. Does anyone even remember what crime she committed at this point? She's been a fugitive for so long, maybe it's time that someone did grant her a pardon. I mean, if the president can make a show of pardoning a turkey every year on Thanksgiving, surely he can pardon this woman who has seen more of the world than any of us ever will.

What's she charged with? Theft? What did she steal, aside from the hearts of children everywhere? I believe her only real crime is a curiosity for World Geography and the ability to make that red hat and trench coat look good. If a thirst for knowledge is illegal, then you better lock me up too.

10 Day You Challenge - Nine Loves


NINE LOVES

I
                                                       Source: img.timeinc.net via Quinn on Pinterest

II
                                                       Source: google.com via Jessica on Pinterest

III
                                                     Source: flickr.com via Emily on Pinterest

IV
                                                       Source: None via Rebecca on Pinterest

V
                                                        Source: crisonu.com via Natalie on Pinterest

VI
                                                       Source: google.com via Amy on Pinterest

VII
                                                         Source: graphicshunt.com via Shelly on Pinterest

VIII
                                                      Source: google.com.au via Debbie on Pinterest

IX
                                                        Source: letsbethriftaddicts.blogspot.com via Chase on Pinterest

Monday, October 10, 2011

10 Day You Challenge - Ten Secrets

Okay, this is another one stolen from Amy. Though, to be fair, she did put the invitation out there for other people to participate. This is me, officially participating. I really hope she doesn't mind my stealing the graphic from her site either. I can't afford another lawsuit for copyright infringement. Yeah, I'm looking at you Barry Manilow! I swear, you sing I Write the Songs at one karaoke bar in the guy's presence...


TEN SECRETS


One} I confess. It was me. I put the bomp in the bomp bah bomp bah bomp. I also put the ram in the ram in the rama lama ding dong. However, I did not put the dip in the dip da dip da dip. Can't take credit for that one.

Two} I was so excited about getting a Kindle earlier this year, but I've only read one entire book on it. Waste of money? I keep telling myself I'll get into it eventually.

Three} My latest ambition is to develop a successful TV show. Scratch that... It doesn't necessarily have to be successful. I just want to sell a pilot to a network.

Four} I'm Batman.

Five} In 9th grade I forged my Dad's signature on a permission slip so I could go to the science museum on a field trip.

Six} I keep hearing about the awesomeness of cruises from friends who have either recently been or are planning to go in the near future. I've never been on one. So I've decided to give myself a cruise vacation next year.

Seven} I wish I could restock my change jar that I had counted for real cash a few months ago. But it's not gonna happen 'cause I never carry cash and, therefore, never receive change anymore.

Eight} I'm finding it really difficult to come up with ten secrets when I write about my life on a nearly daily basis on this blog. My life is an open book.

Nine} I don't make time to read as much as I used to and I really miss it.

Ten} I have a crush on a woman that I've never met and will never meet. But don't tell her. This stays between you and me, got it?

Sunday, October 09, 2011

The Call

Julia heard the call at the worst possible moment. She had finally been having a conversation with her father. It was the conversation she had been putting off for nearly a year. The conversation that she felt sure would finally reveal if her father blamed her for her mother's death.

But the horn sounded far in the distance and she knew she had to run. Julia made her way through the forest that she knew so well. She could read the twists and turns on the narrow path far better than she could read her father's emotional state. As she ran, she imagined the sigh of relief he must have breathed when they heard the call.

Julia dodged limbs and jumped over roots and finally reached the sunshine of an open field. In another 200 yards, she would be at the gate of the city where she had grown up. Halfway across the field, the horn sounded again. This let her know that in another two minutes she would officially be late, and the punishment for tardiness was severe.

In the year since she joined the militia, she had never been late for the call. But she had witnessed as others suffered the discipline of their superior officers. Julia was certain that she would be comfortable living out her entire life without experiencing the end of that whip first hand.

In the city-state of Answain, young people were given a choice upon reaching their 16th birthday. You either joined up for five years of military service, or you go to work in the mines for seven years. Both of these options were, of course, noble choices and helped to protect and support the society in which she lived. But Julia had an irrational fear of dark, enclosed places. So for her, the choice was a no-brainer.

Now, at 17, Julia had grown to love her new life with the militia. She just wished she could move a little bit faster. She weaved her way through the crowded streets of Answain, making her way to the Ellipse at the center of the city. The third call had not been made, so she knew she would be counted on time. She stood in line between two boys who were recent recruits. Her breathing was labored, but she felt like she could relax. She wouldn't feel the whip today.

Answain didn't have a lot of enemies. But the militia was there to protect the citizens from the few enemies that existed outside the city's walls. Julia had only seen two real battles in her time with the militia. One was little more than a month ago, when a group of spies was discovered. They hadn't put up much of a fight, and Julia was pretty sure that the few who were captured alive were held for questioning. She shuddered to think what that questioning would entail.

She didn't like to think about the first battle she had been in. It was only a month after she had signed up for military duty. Her father had told her that he was proud of her. Of course he was proud, she was following in the footsteps of both her parents. The militia was where they had met. It was where they had fallen in love. Her mother was proud too, but she was scared for her little girl. Julia understood her feelings. All she could do was kiss her mother good-bye and tell her not to worry as she moved out of the house and began her intensive training.

Julia had barely finished her training with the sword when the reports came into the barracks that the south gate had been taken down. All members of the militia, even the new recruits, were called to take up arms to defend the city. Julia's mind was filled with panic. It wasn't because she unprepared to defend her home, it was because her family's home was located two blocks from the south gate.

She grabbed her sword and shield and ran south with the others. None of them were too sure where the battle would be taking place. They just knew to run in the opposite direction of the fleeing citizens.

Julia caught sight of an enemy soldier. She recognized the uniform of the Red River military. She had heard stories about Red River. Their soldiers had no honor. This fact was clearly displayed by this man, who was attacking an unarmed woman who was simply trying to flee for her life. Julia knew that this man would be her first kill.

She charged at him, sword in hand, and ran him through without thinking. Julia turned to the woman and shouted at her to run. Immediately, her thoughts turned toward her family. Red River would spare no one in their quest for domination.

All around her, explosions were erupting. She ran through the streets, hoping to find more action, hoping to make a difference. She was in sight of her childhood home when an explosion rocked her world.

Heat and shattered glass threw her off her feet. Julia fought the urge to lose consciousness. She was a little confused, wondering how she ended up on the ground. She could feel the intensity of the fire coming from the store across the street. What kind of weaponry could Red River possibly have that would cause so much destruction?

Her body screamed at her as she picked herself up off the street. She moved as quickly as her legs would allow her, but felt as if the world were moving in slow motion. Up ahead, she saw her father and mother fighting for their lives. They hadn't been military for nearly 20 years, but they still knew what to do with a sword. In that moment she was proud to be their daughter, and she hoped that she could live up to their expectations of her.

More than that, she wished she could move faster, because there, before her eyes, she watched as her mother was killed at the hands of a Red River soldier. She watched as her mother fell to the ground. She watched her father turn to catch the love of his life. And she watched as the soldier who delivered her mother's killing blow prepared to do the same to her father.

But Julia arrived in time to save him. She plunged her sword into the side of the man who had just taken her mother's life. Her anger and sorrow mixed in a cry of agony as she drove her enemy to the ground.

She fell to her knees next to her father and grabbed her mother's hand. Julia saw the faintest smile on her mother's face and felt her squeeze her hand lightly before she passed on. She looked up at her father, who was gently caressing her mother's face. He looked into her eyes and said nothing. She could only imagine that he was thinking the same thing that she was. Why couldn't you have gotten here sooner? She would still be alive.

Without a word, Julia stood up. She charged into the fray where her sword took the lives of half a dozen more enemy soldiers. But the rest of the battle was a blur to her. Julia was numb, unsure how to feel anything else that day. The pain she felt, both physically and emotionally, was too much for her to bear. So she pushed it aside.

The sound of the third call broke her from her vivid memories. Julia stood silently as her captain walked down the line calling names. When he got to her, he gave her a slight wink. She could tell that he liked her, but he really wasn't her type. But the gesture was enough to make her smile anyway. Once attendance had been taken and it was determined that there were no deserters this week, the fourth call sounded and the troops went their separate ways to perform their various duties.

Julia made her way to the barracks, where she had been assigned evening guard duty for the remainder of the month. As she had done every evening for the past two weeks, she would stand silently, waiting for her replacement to relieve her at midnight. She knew that she only had her thoughts to occupy her time. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn't think about the conversation she almost had with her father today. She wouldn't think anymore on the events of the Red River battle. She would do her duty tonight and she would worry about the things she couldn't control some other day.

See how other bloggers answered "The Call" this week over at Sunday Scribblings.

Saturday, October 08, 2011

The Pain of Relaxation

Thursday at work, I was invited by Tree to tag along with her and her friend, Elizabeth, to get a massage at the mall. At first I thought I didn't want to go. I was thinking that I couldn't afford it. Not that it cost all that much, I just generally assume that my money can eventually be spent on something more important than something like a massage.

But Thursday was a rough day. By the end of it, I decided, Screw it, I can find $15 dollars. So I went. It was the first and last time I'll go to that place at the mall to get a massage. I obviously had no idea what I was getting into.

Before arriving at this massage place, I was told that I only needed to choose a length of time. I went with 10 minutes, the shortest and cheapest option. It was my first real massage in a long time, so I figured I should just try and take it easy. Let me just say, the last time I had a massage was in the airport on the way back from Brazil in college. This was nothing like that.

It came to be my turn and I was introduced to an older Asian gentlemen. He motioned for me to lie face down on the table and so I did. He then proceeded to beat the ever-loving crap out of me.

During my ten minute massage, I resisted the urge to cry out in agony at least five times. He poked. He prodded. He rearranged my internal organs. At one point he began kneading on my skull as if the bones were actually a flexible mass.

It was an extremely long ten minutes. When I heard the sweet sound of the timer squealing next to my ear, I whispered a quick prayer of thanksgiving to God, knowing that I would never have to go through this again.

As I stood up, I wanted to ask the man what I could have possibly done to anger him so. We had just met and hadn't even had a real conversation. I only told him I wanted the ten minute massage. Maybe that's what angered him, that I was being cheap. I gave him a tip before I left. I didn't want him following me to finish me off if I left him unhappy.

Apparently I received a deep tissue massage, rather than one that brings relaxation. When I awoke Friday morning, I couldn't turn my head. When I needed to turn to look at something, I needed to turn my entire body. Even now, 48 hours after the fact, the back of my skull still feels bruised.

I haven't seen any bruises on my neck or shoulders. I'm left to assume that this Zen Master of Pain was so good at his craft that he was able to hide any marks his acupressure technique may have left. I'm just glad he wasn't so offended that he felt the need to use the Touch of Death.

Friday, October 07, 2011

Question of the Week: Outgoing

What sorts of things would you do if you could be as outgoing and uninhibited as you wished? Do you usually initiate friendships or wait to be approached?

If I were more outgoing and less of an introvert, I would be a lot more talkative with people, whether I know them or not. Don't get me wrong, I'm okay with being introverted. I'm perfectly content being the kind of person that enjoys his alone time. But I'm sure that particular trait has and will cause me to miss out on some excitement in my life. But hey, no regrets. As for the second question, I pretty much wait to be approached when it comes to new friendships. After all, once people experience my irresistible personality, it doesn't take long before they're swarming me with friend requests on Facebook. It's true. Google it.

*Question of the Week comes from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.

Thursday, October 06, 2011

Five Years Later


Honestly, I wasn't sure how today would go for me.

Today was the anniversary of my Dad's death. It's the first time I've been in in Roanoke for this day in four years. Over time, October 6 has gotten a little easier to get through. But I just wasn't sure about today.

I've heard that milestones can be a little harder to deal with. Five years seems like one of those milestones. And it's hard to believe it's been that long. On top of the milestone, I'm back at home. I'm back in the town where all of my memories are.

But it really wasn't that bad. Not like I anticipated, which is a good thing.

I didn't break down at any point. I went about my day like normal. There were times when I had trouble focusing on the task at hand. Kind of like now. But I promise, I got through my work day, I'll get through this blog post.

In the car I decided to pop in a CD of my Dad singing. It's not something I listen to very often. Usually, I'm afraid to listen to it. I'm afraid of what hearing his voice will do to me emotionally. I'm of the belief that driving becomes much more difficult when you try to see through a flood of tears. But today, I listened. And I did okay with that too. Again, better than I thought I would.

Anyone who had the chance to hear the man sing knows what a phenomenal voice he had. When I was a kid, I remember overhearing a conversation between a couple of the older guys at the church where I grew up. It was during a Sunday morning service and Dad happened to be singing a solo. I was standing out in the hallway listening to him over the speakers in the ceiling. These guys must not have seen me standing there, or they may not have had the conversation they had.

One turned to the other and said, "There's a guy who really missed his calling." The other just nodded his head in agreement and went on listening to the song. At the time, I just smiled, thinking this guy was right. Dad had a great voice. At some point somewhere in his life, if the right person had happened to hear his singing voice, things could have been very different for him.

As I've grown up and looked back at my father's life and the passion he had for music and his church, I'm more and more convinced that he followed his calling to the letter. Yes, he was incredibly talented. I've heard more than a few people say that hearing him sing gave them chills. And they always meant that in a good way. But to say he missed his calling because he wasn't a household name would be way off base.

He was never happier than when he was serving in the church. To the very end, he was singing to the tops of his lungs. The night that he died, he was with his church family, helping them prepare for an upcoming event. He spent his last hours in this world in a place that he loved, working side by side with people he loved, serving the God that he loved.

I miss him, and I'll never stop missing him. But I know that any tears that I shed are selfish. Those tears come from a place of wanting him back here, wishing I could hug him again and talk to him about everything that's been happening for the past five years. But he's in a better place. I realized that immediately on that night five years ago.

I can't sit here and say that I mourn his loss. Not anymore, anyway. Instead, I celebrate his life. Knowing the man that he was makes me smile. Knowing the life that he led makes me proud to be his son.