I'm watching Transformers right now. It's really an awful movie, but do you want to know the worst part about it? They keep mispronouncing Qatar.
Yes, I am a geographical elitist.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The Bread Making Process
Just in case you ever want to feel like a complete moron go back and read your blog over the last two years. My summation:
1. I talk about work way too much. Mostly it's something having to do with working too much, which in all honesty...how boring.
2. I don't post often, and when I do post I try to give a summation of the last two months by saying I work to much.
3. I hvae a lot of tpyos.
4. My writing style has changed, but it always seems to be pessimistic. Am I a pessimist or do I just love giving that impression. I mean, even in a post where I'm complaining about being pessimistic I'm being pessimistic. Weird.
5. I get awkwardly deep sometimes. I think to the point where a lot of people reading this would think that I'm depressed or something. I need to let you all know that sometimes it's simply because I'm listening to Iron and Wine and that happens when I listen to them.
6. I wonder who else reads this besides the usual suspects.
1. I talk about work way too much. Mostly it's something having to do with working too much, which in all honesty...how boring.
2. I don't post often, and when I do post I try to give a summation of the last two months by saying I work to much.
3. I hvae a lot of tpyos.
4. My writing style has changed, but it always seems to be pessimistic. Am I a pessimist or do I just love giving that impression. I mean, even in a post where I'm complaining about being pessimistic I'm being pessimistic. Weird.
5. I get awkwardly deep sometimes. I think to the point where a lot of people reading this would think that I'm depressed or something. I need to let you all know that sometimes it's simply because I'm listening to Iron and Wine and that happens when I listen to them.
6. I wonder who else reads this besides the usual suspects.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Welcome to the Jungle
So, yes. Jessie is pregnant. It's amazing. It's a miracle. It's exciting. It's nerve-racking. I've been the lucky husband that has a wife that isn't puking or showing any symptoms at all really (except falling asleep on the couch at 9:00 rather than 9:30). However, this whole thing has kept me on my toes and made me appreciate both the the miracle of life as well as the fragility of it.
Creating a life is almost one of those thing that's hard to whisper because everything feels so delicate right now. Through both first and secondhand ways I have learned to become aware of how in an instant everything can change. My accident started it all. A week later I found out Jessie was pregnant. I don't think of the the obvious what ifs....Then the we found out we got to share in pregnancy with two people very close to us, only to see the pain of the unspeakable. There just aren't any words for that....Then one of my best friends lost one of his best friends in his basement. His buddy was just visiting him from Mankato with his wife and child. My buddy woke up to go to work and received a call right after he got there to come home immedietly. By the time he made the five minute drive back, his best friend was gone. I didn't really know the guy, but shit...it kind of got stuck in me.
So what am I saying? Shouldn't I be thinking happier thoughts? I think the point of this post is that I am. I am truly elated. I am truly blessed. But most of all I am in awe of the miracle. I'm not sure if anybody can truly appreciate this miracle. It's one of those things like love: It exists, and in the hectic world that we live in, sometimes it takes events like these to truly make one pause realize it. Makes you want to go around and let everyone around you know how much they are loved.
And boy, do I love you all....
On a lighter note, I'm trying to convince Jessie that if we have a boy, his middle name MUST be Axl. Think about it ________ Axl Rowles. Perfect. I need help from you guys here. She's not really going for it.
More to come. More often.
Creating a life is almost one of those thing that's hard to whisper because everything feels so delicate right now. Through both first and secondhand ways I have learned to become aware of how in an instant everything can change. My accident started it all. A week later I found out Jessie was pregnant. I don't think of the the obvious what ifs....Then the we found out we got to share in pregnancy with two people very close to us, only to see the pain of the unspeakable. There just aren't any words for that....Then one of my best friends lost one of his best friends in his basement. His buddy was just visiting him from Mankato with his wife and child. My buddy woke up to go to work and received a call right after he got there to come home immedietly. By the time he made the five minute drive back, his best friend was gone. I didn't really know the guy, but shit...it kind of got stuck in me.
So what am I saying? Shouldn't I be thinking happier thoughts? I think the point of this post is that I am. I am truly elated. I am truly blessed. But most of all I am in awe of the miracle. I'm not sure if anybody can truly appreciate this miracle. It's one of those things like love: It exists, and in the hectic world that we live in, sometimes it takes events like these to truly make one pause realize it. Makes you want to go around and let everyone around you know how much they are loved.
And boy, do I love you all....
On a lighter note, I'm trying to convince Jessie that if we have a boy, his middle name MUST be Axl. Think about it ________ Axl Rowles. Perfect. I need help from you guys here. She's not really going for it.
More to come. More often.
Hillside Manor: Sometime After 2AM
So I was sleeping fine. A little thirsty, but all in all, sleeping peacefully. Then I woke up. About a half hour ago. Now I can't get back to sleep. 3:00 in the morning and all I can do is lay in bed and think about how busy I am. Work is just nuts right now and the madness of the season is finally catching up to me. This is the first time that I've actually managed a store during December (remember last year I was just getting ready to start opening Maple Grove), and I must say that the adaptations I have to make to my daily routine, both in the store and at home, are throwing me off a little. Then I look at the calendar and think, 'You know what? I'm good. Three more weeks left....'
Funny how I let my crew know that this is the season they're going to be putting in more hours, but make more money than they've made all year. I tell them they can sleep in January. I suppose that means me too, but I honestly, I didn't mean it literally.
Funny how I let my crew know that this is the season they're going to be putting in more hours, but make more money than they've made all year. I tell them they can sleep in January. I suppose that means me too, but I honestly, I didn't mean it literally.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Not a Promise, Just a Threat
hey buck-
me. you. the north woods. a rifle. this weekend. be there.
love always,
your worst f' in' nightmare.
me. you. the north woods. a rifle. this weekend. be there.
love always,
your worst f' in' nightmare.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Adjust Yo' Neck
*So I'm feeling much better two weeks after the "Big Crash." My back is still a little sore in the morning, but it's nothing that 3 Advil Liquigels can't handle. Although I do kind of wish that I would have gotten something stronger to get me through last week...like Percocet. I took four days off just to recover. I did nothing. Hung out with Jessie, drank a lot of beer and moaned and groaned every time I tried to get up and actually move around. I may still go see a doctor eventually, but I'm kind of opting for the quick fix of a chiropractor instead.
*I leave for Vegas in a week for a store managers meeting. Whenever I tell people that they get all excited for me. Stop it already. It's not as cool as it sounds. Meetings, meetings and more meetings followed by meetings. Don't get me wrong, it should be pretty fun, but...meetings.
*Besides that, not much happening. Just life. I'm amazing.
*I leave for Vegas in a week for a store managers meeting. Whenever I tell people that they get all excited for me. Stop it already. It's not as cool as it sounds. Meetings, meetings and more meetings followed by meetings. Don't get me wrong, it should be pretty fun, but...meetings.
*Besides that, not much happening. Just life. I'm amazing.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
By Popular Demand
This is my leg. Read it and weep, folks....
and no, I still haven't been to the doctor. Why? Because I'm such a freakin' man.....
P.S. I am feeling MUCH better today.
and no, I still haven't been to the doctor. Why? Because I'm such a freakin' man.....
P.S. I am feeling MUCH better today.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
How?
Warning: This is a very long read.
"Marty, wake up!"
I open my eyes. I'm tired. I woke up at 4:30 to go duck hunting with Tom and John. We saw nothing. Well, three ducks, but really, nothing. Apparently all the local ducks up and headed south already and there hasn't been a cold snap in Canada to force the Canadian ducks down.
Then an afternoon partridge hunt where, after stumbling through the woods for 2 hours and trying my best to follow the rules, we were skunked again. Too warm out? Lack of dog? Or was it the new clothes I'm wearing giving us bad luck? I've got to get the skunk off these according to Tom. He's superstitious like that.
So I open my eyes and Jessie asks if I'm ready to go out hunting again. I'm tired, but pretty eager. I want to at least get a shot off. I'm going alone this time. Tom's too tired, John's out on the deer stand with a bow, but Tom knows a trail about a mile up the road where I'm bound to see some partridge. I'm not sure if he knows that I don't even know what a partridge really looks like, but I'm awake now and pretty eager still.
"I'll take the truck. You're going to follow me to the trail on the four wheeler. There's going to be a couple of times on the way where you'll have to break from the trail and go on the highway, but don't worry about it. It's illegal, so if you get caught, you pay the ticket, but I've never been caught. Just stay on the asphalt when the shoulder gets to small." Tom's drawing up a scratch map of the trail and going over the final details and precautions I should take on the hunt.
"OK, I got this...let's go. I'm awake and pretty eager to get a bird today."
After a quick trip with Jessie on the back of the four-wheeler up to the gas station I get back and am ready to go. I run inside to grab my gloves. My hands were pretty cold from the ride to the gas station.
I kiss my bride, Tom hops in the truck and we're on the way. The trail starts out about five feet off the road. Just your average snowmobile trail. Easy to manage. Suddenly the trail ends and Tom slows down to wave me over to the highway. I ride over and start to follow him. A couple cars pass as Tom waves them through. The cars are close to me. Scary. This thing tops out at 40 mph. Tom's going about that. I gotta keep up. The shoulder has enough room for a four wheeler. I'm not too worried. We pass the part where the road goes over the lake. I hop on the asphalt. I feel exposed. Like at any time some car can come speeding past me and push me to the shoulder.
The lake passes on both sides, I hop back on the shoulder. 'God, Tom's going fast....'
I didn't even have time. I catch the lip of the shoulder. I lose control for an instant. The shoulder disappeared under me and gave way to....I look up into this swampy grassland. This is bad. Tom's going to think I'm such a dumbass. Another rookie mistake by the green north-woodser.
Jessie.
Fuck.
It's a blur. I know those thoughts ran through my head in that split second. I also remember the four wheeler literally rolling over me.
Jessie.
Fuck.
It's funny what goes through your mind those moments after. You immediately take inventory. 'Move, damn it.' I hurt. Is something broken? The first thing you want to do was simply move. 'Move damn it.' I probably laid there for about five seconds just wondering what the outcome would be. 'Is this it?' That's a very scary question. Think about it. Think about the moment. 'Is this it?' Scary.
Then I pop up.
I can't breathe. At all. I'm gasping for breath, but no air is going in our out. I look up for Tom. I think he's turning around. He had to have seen that.
I hope he saw that.
Can I walk?
I can walk. I think. I'm moving. I hurt. Everywhere. God I hurt. My back has mind numbing pain shooting across it. My neck. 'Breathe.' I can't.
I look up to the road. I'm about five feet down a steep embankment. Emphasis on steep. I fell all that way. Flipped. Rolled. What happened? 'That's a big embankment.' I need to get up there. I struggle to scurry up it. Tom's coming. I get to the road. I can't breathe. At all. I look down to the four wheeler. There's smoke coming from it. 'Fuck, I broke it. Tom's going to kill me.'
"MARTY, ARE YOU OK." Tom's getting out the truck looking about as worried as I've ever seen Tom. He speaks deliberately.
"I...heh...think...SOOoooo...."
I'm expecting the worst. I'm thinking in my head that I'm probably in shock. My leg's probably broken. My face gashed open. My ulna's sticking through my Minnesota Wild sweatshirt.
"Breathe, Marty. Breathe. Look at me.... There's blood on your face. Where's that blood coming from? It's this egg on your head. It's bleeding but it doesn't look to bad.... Turn around. Are you OK? Breathe. Follow my finger. Good. Now look me in the eyes and count to ten." I do. It's hard because I can't breathe. At all. He pokes my ribs. Feels my arms and legs. "I think you're OK."
"Hehhh...really?" Somehow I find relief in those words. OK feels good. I don't feel good. But I'm OK.
"Yeah, you're wife's gonna kill you for those ripped pants, but you can walk, I don't think anything's broken and your not bleeding too badly. Just from that egg." I look down at myself. These pants are torn to pieces. That's OK, they're not pants I care about. I spit cat tails out of my mouth.
"Really...hhehh." I can't breathe. At all.
"I think I am OK." Shit. I think I broke that four wheeler. I look back at it. It's still idling. "I'm sorry, Tom."
"Marty, you're OK, that's all I care about. Are you OK??"
I think I am. Holy shit, I think I am. How? That four wheeler rolled on me.
Tom's going on about a cloud of cat tails and how I'm so lucky. Wow. I'm coming into the reality of the situation.
"You want a smoke." I look at him like he's crazy. I can't breathe. At all.
"I...just...need...to...catch...my...breath...."
I look up and there's a lit Marb Red in my face. I take it. I smoke. People are stopping asking if I'm OK. My pants are ripped, my back hurts like a bitch, I'm bleeding, but I think I'm OK. Tom grabs my gloves that I dropped on the road when he wanted to check my hands and yells at me for wearing gloves on such a warm day. Sorry?
We assess the situation. I'm OK, the four wheeler's five feet down in the ditch. "Marty, stay here, I'm going to have to pull this thing out with my truck. I don't have a tow rope and I'm sure as hell not going back to the cabin yet, so we'll use the winch to get it out." He turns around and we get climb down to the four wheeler. I hurt so much. I still can hardly breathe. God, I hurt. Everywhere. And I still can't breathe.
I climb back down to the four wheeler. I know I'm hurting more than I ever have in my life, but Tom needs my help to get this thing out of here. I just want to go home already to my wife. I start releasing the winch it goes ten feet out. "Marty, keep going...Marty your pulling it in, not out." I'm not. I'm pressing out. I can't explain myself because I can barely breathe. Still. "OUT, MARTY, DAMN IT!"
"I...AM...!" I'm trying to tell him that I'm pressing out with the winch. I can't. I can only point in the direction I'm pushing the button.
The winch is broken. The quarter inch steel cable is tangled like a rat's nest. Damn it. We start the four wheeler back up. It dawned on me then that it's still running. I thought I broke it. Tom gets on. "Get back up to the road." People are still stopping. I don't think we need help. Tom looks around. He sees the plan. He puts the four wheeler in reverse. 'You have to be kidding me.' It was a hot knife through butter as he backed that sucker in reverse out of the ditch. About 100 ft worth of ditch at that. Amazing. It still works. Absolutely amazing. I mean, that thing literally rolled on top of me. Rolled....!
"Go to my truck, Marty. Drive it back. I'll take the four wheeler." Thank God. "Now, you have to explain to Jessie and Cindy that wasn't my fault. It was your own damn fault. Cindy's still going to kill me, but it WAS NOT my fault." He's 100% right.
I climb into his truck, still dazed. Breath is kind of back. Not really though. Shallow breaths. I turn around. My back...My neck....I'm alive, I'm moving...How? That was bad. Could have been much worse. As I drive I marvel at Arctic Cat that Tom is riding. How does that thing still work?
I climb out of the truck. Cindy's finishing the stew.
"I...got...in...an...accident....I'm...OK...Don't...be...mad...at...Tom, it wasn't...his fault...."
Jessie runs in from the living room. I woke here up from her nap. She looks at me. Concerned. I'm here. She's here. I'm so lucky. I can't even tell her what happened or how happy I am to see her, or how bad it really was. I can't talk. I can't breath that well still. They want all the info that I can't give. Tom tells them when he walks in. Wow. I'm OK.
Jessie takes me to the bedroom to change. I literally can't move. She helps me take my hunting boots off. I break down in tears as I realize what just happened. Tom pokes his head in. I think he understands the emotions that I'm feeling. God, I was glad he was there. God, I'm glad that Jessie's here. I'm OK. I hurt soo much, but I'm here. I'm OK.
So the final inventory. I have a very sore back right below my shoulder blade, my neck is killing me, I can't move very well, I have two huge bruises on my inner thigh, a lump on my head and scratches all over. That's it. I'm OK. It took me about an hour to fully get my breath back, but it's here. No collapsed lung. No broken ribs or other bones. No broken back. No stitches needed. Just really banged up. I mean, I remember that four wheeler rolling over me. Literally. This should have been worse. The best pain ever is the "I'm OK" pain.
And once again I ask, "How?"
Last night I laid in bed before I went to sleep and my mind started racing with what ifs. You can probably guess what I was thinking. Worst case scenarios and the like. Then I came to the realization. There are no what ifs, only this moment. And in this moment I'm OK.
I don't really care how.
"Marty, wake up!"
I open my eyes. I'm tired. I woke up at 4:30 to go duck hunting with Tom and John. We saw nothing. Well, three ducks, but really, nothing. Apparently all the local ducks up and headed south already and there hasn't been a cold snap in Canada to force the Canadian ducks down.
Then an afternoon partridge hunt where, after stumbling through the woods for 2 hours and trying my best to follow the rules, we were skunked again. Too warm out? Lack of dog? Or was it the new clothes I'm wearing giving us bad luck? I've got to get the skunk off these according to Tom. He's superstitious like that.
So I open my eyes and Jessie asks if I'm ready to go out hunting again. I'm tired, but pretty eager. I want to at least get a shot off. I'm going alone this time. Tom's too tired, John's out on the deer stand with a bow, but Tom knows a trail about a mile up the road where I'm bound to see some partridge. I'm not sure if he knows that I don't even know what a partridge really looks like, but I'm awake now and pretty eager still.
"I'll take the truck. You're going to follow me to the trail on the four wheeler. There's going to be a couple of times on the way where you'll have to break from the trail and go on the highway, but don't worry about it. It's illegal, so if you get caught, you pay the ticket, but I've never been caught. Just stay on the asphalt when the shoulder gets to small." Tom's drawing up a scratch map of the trail and going over the final details and precautions I should take on the hunt.
"OK, I got this...let's go. I'm awake and pretty eager to get a bird today."
After a quick trip with Jessie on the back of the four-wheeler up to the gas station I get back and am ready to go. I run inside to grab my gloves. My hands were pretty cold from the ride to the gas station.
I kiss my bride, Tom hops in the truck and we're on the way. The trail starts out about five feet off the road. Just your average snowmobile trail. Easy to manage. Suddenly the trail ends and Tom slows down to wave me over to the highway. I ride over and start to follow him. A couple cars pass as Tom waves them through. The cars are close to me. Scary. This thing tops out at 40 mph. Tom's going about that. I gotta keep up. The shoulder has enough room for a four wheeler. I'm not too worried. We pass the part where the road goes over the lake. I hop on the asphalt. I feel exposed. Like at any time some car can come speeding past me and push me to the shoulder.
The lake passes on both sides, I hop back on the shoulder. 'God, Tom's going fast....'
I didn't even have time. I catch the lip of the shoulder. I lose control for an instant. The shoulder disappeared under me and gave way to....I look up into this swampy grassland. This is bad. Tom's going to think I'm such a dumbass. Another rookie mistake by the green north-woodser.
Jessie.
Fuck.
It's a blur. I know those thoughts ran through my head in that split second. I also remember the four wheeler literally rolling over me.
Jessie.
Fuck.
It's funny what goes through your mind those moments after. You immediately take inventory. 'Move, damn it.' I hurt. Is something broken? The first thing you want to do was simply move. 'Move damn it.' I probably laid there for about five seconds just wondering what the outcome would be. 'Is this it?' That's a very scary question. Think about it. Think about the moment. 'Is this it?' Scary.
Then I pop up.
I can't breathe. At all. I'm gasping for breath, but no air is going in our out. I look up for Tom. I think he's turning around. He had to have seen that.
I hope he saw that.
Can I walk?
I can walk. I think. I'm moving. I hurt. Everywhere. God I hurt. My back has mind numbing pain shooting across it. My neck. 'Breathe.' I can't.
I look up to the road. I'm about five feet down a steep embankment. Emphasis on steep. I fell all that way. Flipped. Rolled. What happened? 'That's a big embankment.' I need to get up there. I struggle to scurry up it. Tom's coming. I get to the road. I can't breathe. At all. I look down to the four wheeler. There's smoke coming from it. 'Fuck, I broke it. Tom's going to kill me.'
"MARTY, ARE YOU OK." Tom's getting out the truck looking about as worried as I've ever seen Tom. He speaks deliberately.
"I...heh...think...SOOoooo...."
I'm expecting the worst. I'm thinking in my head that I'm probably in shock. My leg's probably broken. My face gashed open. My ulna's sticking through my Minnesota Wild sweatshirt.
"Breathe, Marty. Breathe. Look at me.... There's blood on your face. Where's that blood coming from? It's this egg on your head. It's bleeding but it doesn't look to bad.... Turn around. Are you OK? Breathe. Follow my finger. Good. Now look me in the eyes and count to ten." I do. It's hard because I can't breathe. At all. He pokes my ribs. Feels my arms and legs. "I think you're OK."
"Hehhh...really?" Somehow I find relief in those words. OK feels good. I don't feel good. But I'm OK.
"Yeah, you're wife's gonna kill you for those ripped pants, but you can walk, I don't think anything's broken and your not bleeding too badly. Just from that egg." I look down at myself. These pants are torn to pieces. That's OK, they're not pants I care about. I spit cat tails out of my mouth.
"Really...hhehh." I can't breathe. At all.
"I think I am OK." Shit. I think I broke that four wheeler. I look back at it. It's still idling. "I'm sorry, Tom."
"Marty, you're OK, that's all I care about. Are you OK??"
I think I am. Holy shit, I think I am. How? That four wheeler rolled on me.
Tom's going on about a cloud of cat tails and how I'm so lucky. Wow. I'm coming into the reality of the situation.
"You want a smoke." I look at him like he's crazy. I can't breathe. At all.
"I...just...need...to...catch...my...breath...."
I look up and there's a lit Marb Red in my face. I take it. I smoke. People are stopping asking if I'm OK. My pants are ripped, my back hurts like a bitch, I'm bleeding, but I think I'm OK. Tom grabs my gloves that I dropped on the road when he wanted to check my hands and yells at me for wearing gloves on such a warm day. Sorry?
We assess the situation. I'm OK, the four wheeler's five feet down in the ditch. "Marty, stay here, I'm going to have to pull this thing out with my truck. I don't have a tow rope and I'm sure as hell not going back to the cabin yet, so we'll use the winch to get it out." He turns around and we get climb down to the four wheeler. I hurt so much. I still can hardly breathe. God, I hurt. Everywhere. And I still can't breathe.
I climb back down to the four wheeler. I know I'm hurting more than I ever have in my life, but Tom needs my help to get this thing out of here. I just want to go home already to my wife. I start releasing the winch it goes ten feet out. "Marty, keep going...Marty your pulling it in, not out." I'm not. I'm pressing out. I can't explain myself because I can barely breathe. Still. "OUT, MARTY, DAMN IT!"
"I...AM...!" I'm trying to tell him that I'm pressing out with the winch. I can't. I can only point in the direction I'm pushing the button.
The winch is broken. The quarter inch steel cable is tangled like a rat's nest. Damn it. We start the four wheeler back up. It dawned on me then that it's still running. I thought I broke it. Tom gets on. "Get back up to the road." People are still stopping. I don't think we need help. Tom looks around. He sees the plan. He puts the four wheeler in reverse. 'You have to be kidding me.' It was a hot knife through butter as he backed that sucker in reverse out of the ditch. About 100 ft worth of ditch at that. Amazing. It still works. Absolutely amazing. I mean, that thing literally rolled on top of me. Rolled....!
"Go to my truck, Marty. Drive it back. I'll take the four wheeler." Thank God. "Now, you have to explain to Jessie and Cindy that wasn't my fault. It was your own damn fault. Cindy's still going to kill me, but it WAS NOT my fault." He's 100% right.
I climb into his truck, still dazed. Breath is kind of back. Not really though. Shallow breaths. I turn around. My back...My neck....I'm alive, I'm moving...How? That was bad. Could have been much worse. As I drive I marvel at Arctic Cat that Tom is riding. How does that thing still work?
I climb out of the truck. Cindy's finishing the stew.
"I...got...in...an...accident....I'm...OK...Don't...be...mad...at...Tom, it wasn't...his fault...."
Jessie runs in from the living room. I woke here up from her nap. She looks at me. Concerned. I'm here. She's here. I'm so lucky. I can't even tell her what happened or how happy I am to see her, or how bad it really was. I can't talk. I can't breath that well still. They want all the info that I can't give. Tom tells them when he walks in. Wow. I'm OK.
Jessie takes me to the bedroom to change. I literally can't move. She helps me take my hunting boots off. I break down in tears as I realize what just happened. Tom pokes his head in. I think he understands the emotions that I'm feeling. God, I was glad he was there. God, I'm glad that Jessie's here. I'm OK. I hurt soo much, but I'm here. I'm OK.
So the final inventory. I have a very sore back right below my shoulder blade, my neck is killing me, I can't move very well, I have two huge bruises on my inner thigh, a lump on my head and scratches all over. That's it. I'm OK. It took me about an hour to fully get my breath back, but it's here. No collapsed lung. No broken ribs or other bones. No broken back. No stitches needed. Just really banged up. I mean, I remember that four wheeler rolling over me. Literally. This should have been worse. The best pain ever is the "I'm OK" pain.
And once again I ask, "How?"
Last night I laid in bed before I went to sleep and my mind started racing with what ifs. You can probably guess what I was thinking. Worst case scenarios and the like. Then I came to the realization. There are no what ifs, only this moment. And in this moment I'm OK.
I don't really care how.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
And Your Hairy Butt....
So I'm not going to post the video, because that's all I seem to be doing lately, but...
"You ran for the president of Iran. We ran together to a tropical island."
Genius Mr. Samberg, genius....
"You ran for the president of Iran. We ran together to a tropical island."
Genius Mr. Samberg, genius....
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Saturday, September 08, 2007
You Like Horror Films?
I just got done watching literally the SCARIEST MOVIE EVER! Do yourself a favor and check it out.
Friday, August 31, 2007
...And with the 10th pick in the 2007 (fantasy) NFL draft...
So here's my fantasy team for this year. Am i ecstatic about my team? Well, no, but I think all in all I drafted well. 10th overall pick, three solid backs, three solid receivers, a TE that is still the only receiving threat on his team (and a solid backup on the best offense in the NFL), and the ability to play match-ups with the QB and defense spot. Feeling pretty good about 'em...but then again, doesn't every fantasy player right about now?
Team Name: You Love MSP Bathrooms
QB- Matt Leinart, Ben Roethlisberger, Steve McNair
RB- Brian Westbrook, Travis Henry, Cedric Benson, Correll Buckhalter
WR- T.J. Houshmandzadeh, Randy Moss, Hines Ward, Joey Porter
TE- Alge Crumpler, Dallas Clark
D- Philadelphia Eagles, Jacksonville Jaguars
K- Olindo Mare
Team Name: You Love MSP Bathrooms
QB- Matt Leinart, Ben Roethlisberger, Steve McNair
RB- Brian Westbrook, Travis Henry, Cedric Benson, Correll Buckhalter
WR- T.J. Houshmandzadeh, Randy Moss, Hines Ward, Joey Porter
TE- Alge Crumpler, Dallas Clark
D- Philadelphia Eagles, Jacksonville Jaguars
K- Olindo Mare
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Jam of Summer '07
This was an old customer in the Roseville store. He was one of those guys that returned EVERYTHING he bought so all the sales guys dreaded selling to him. Now he's been on Jimmy Kimmel, was made fun of by John Mayer on Best Week Ever and has some pretty good spoofs on YouTube. He is so amazingly talented.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Saturday, August 18, 2007
To My Guys....
Hank and Wally,
I didn't realize that it got this bad. I know how much time you spend with your mommy and I realize we snipped off the seeds, but c'mon! You are males. Do not forget this weekend as bachelors, OK? Drink beer, smoke cigarettes, watch Entourage, Cops and Vikings football, eat nothing but things you can make in the microwave and leave messes all around the house (actually you guys got that one down). That's being males. No more excuses, not even the lack of balls one....
I didn't realize that it got this bad. I know how much time you spend with your mommy and I realize we snipped off the seeds, but c'mon! You are males. Do not forget this weekend as bachelors, OK? Drink beer, smoke cigarettes, watch Entourage, Cops and Vikings football, eat nothing but things you can make in the microwave and leave messes all around the house (actually you guys got that one down). That's being males. No more excuses, not even the lack of balls one....
Reason #1,254,945,634
Could somebody tell everyone at church to lose the voice. You know what I'm talking about...the church voice. There are a couple different ones (the greeter voice, the worship leader praying voice, the pastor getting really passionate about abortion voice) and every single one of them is not the same voice that they use that they scream at homosexuals and witches with.
I absolutely love Christ, but absolutely detest most Christians. And I had typed a different word than detest before I got worried my mom might read this....
I absolutely love Christ, but absolutely detest most Christians. And I had typed a different word than detest before I got worried my mom might read this....
Just Amputate It Now....
These last two weeks my foot has been killing me. Yes, I saw the doctor and as per usual he told me nothing. Nothing at all. I've been doing what he says which involves icing it and taking advil (yeah...thanks doc), but all it did was give me a big lump on my foot.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Marty, If It Weren't For Bad Luck....
*OK, so I'm not going to get into the long story of how my car got impounded because of a over-zealous police officer, a series of unfortunate events (comedy of errors of sorts), a traffic stop two months, no, five days, no, two days ago, a $150 trip to the impound lot, and another $130 trip to the DMV, plus God knows how much two tickets will end up costing me on MY TRAFFIC COURT DATE, but....
The one thing that sticks in my head right now is my conversation with my boss:
TOD: "Marty, remember to never let me fly with you."
MARTY: "Huh? What do you mean by that?"
TOD: "Well, if it weren't for bad luck, you wouldn't have any luck at all."
MARTY: "Oh." >sigh<
At least it's luck?
The one thing that sticks in my head right now is my conversation with my boss:
TOD: "Marty, remember to never let me fly with you."
MARTY: "Huh? What do you mean by that?"
TOD: "Well, if it weren't for bad luck, you wouldn't have any luck at all."
MARTY: "Oh." >sigh<
At least it's luck?
Minn e sow ta
I'm kind of proud of this....Is that bad?
| What American accent do you have? Your Result: North Central "North Central" is what professional linguists call the Minnesota accent. If you saw "Fargo" you probably didn't think the characters sounded very out of the ordinary. Outsiders probably mistake you for a Canadian a lot. | |
| The West | |
| The Midland | |
| Boston | |
| The Inland North | |
| Philadelphia | |
| The South | |
| The Northeast | |
| What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz | |
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Whew
OK, so now that I've spent way too long working on that song list and Jessie has gone to bed I just have to take a moment and say...(see title)
Lost two Assistant Managers this week. To say that I'm working a lot is an understatement. The last five days I've worked over 50 hours and the end is not yet in sight. This week will be much of the same with Memorial Weekend coming up. It's funny though, because I'm not FREAKING out like maybe I should be. In the end sometimes you have to tear things apart in order to make it right, and that's what is happening. I'm happy with the new direction of the store and I know that I, nay we, will be better for it. Maybe this means that I am really starting to come into may own as a store manager. That makes me feel proud. However, once again, the week is not over....
Lost two Assistant Managers this week. To say that I'm working a lot is an understatement. The last five days I've worked over 50 hours and the end is not yet in sight. This week will be much of the same with Memorial Weekend coming up. It's funny though, because I'm not FREAKING out like maybe I should be. In the end sometimes you have to tear things apart in order to make it right, and that's what is happening. I'm happy with the new direction of the store and I know that I, nay we, will be better for it. Maybe this means that I am really starting to come into may own as a store manager. That makes me feel proud. However, once again, the week is not over....
This Took Way Too Long....
Soundtrack to your life:
What you do here is rack the depths of your cd/tape/vinyl/ipod collection or brain and come up with what you consider to be an awesome tune that you could see playing in the background at these stages of life.. hope you have fun with this, i look forward to seeing the soundtrack of your lives :)
•Opening credits: Stuck Between Stations- The Hold Steady
•Waking up: Morning Lullabye- Ingrid Michaelson
•Average day: The Crane Wife- The Decemberists
•First date: The First Five Times- Stars
•Falling in love: Snowbirds and Townies- Further Seems Forever
•Love scene: Table For Glasses- Jimmy Eat World
•Fight scene: Leave (Get Out)- JoJo
•Breaking up: August In Bethany- The Juliana Theory
•Getting back together: I Know I Know- Tegan and Sarah
•Secret love: Hallelujah- Jeff Buckley
•Life's okay: Bottom of the Barrel- Amos Lee
•Mental breakdown: Cold Water- Damien Rice
•Driving: You Can Have It All- Yo La Tengo
•Learning a lesson: A Better Son/Daughter- Rilo Kiley
•Deep thought: Passing Afternoon- Iron and Wine
•Flashback: {Untitled Track} (4) - Sigur Ros
•Partying: D.U.I.- Har Mar Superstar
•Happy dance: Just Like Heaven- The Cure
•Regreting: These Days- Jackson Browne
•Long night alone: Raining In Baltimore- Counting Crows
•Death scene: I Will Follow You Into the Dark- Death Cab For Cutie
•Closing credits: Philosophy- Ben Folds Five
What you do here is rack the depths of your cd/tape/vinyl/ipod collection or brain and come up with what you consider to be an awesome tune that you could see playing in the background at these stages of life.. hope you have fun with this, i look forward to seeing the soundtrack of your lives :)
•Opening credits: Stuck Between Stations- The Hold Steady
•Waking up: Morning Lullabye- Ingrid Michaelson
•Average day: The Crane Wife- The Decemberists
•First date: The First Five Times- Stars
•Falling in love: Snowbirds and Townies- Further Seems Forever
•Love scene: Table For Glasses- Jimmy Eat World
•Fight scene: Leave (Get Out)- JoJo
•Breaking up: August In Bethany- The Juliana Theory
•Getting back together: I Know I Know- Tegan and Sarah
•Secret love: Hallelujah- Jeff Buckley
•Life's okay: Bottom of the Barrel- Amos Lee
•Mental breakdown: Cold Water- Damien Rice
•Driving: You Can Have It All- Yo La Tengo
•Learning a lesson: A Better Son/Daughter- Rilo Kiley
•Deep thought: Passing Afternoon- Iron and Wine
•Flashback: {Untitled Track} (4) - Sigur Ros
•Partying: D.U.I.- Har Mar Superstar
•Happy dance: Just Like Heaven- The Cure
•Regreting: These Days- Jackson Browne
•Long night alone: Raining In Baltimore- Counting Crows
•Death scene: I Will Follow You Into the Dark- Death Cab For Cutie
•Closing credits: Philosophy- Ben Folds Five
Monday, May 07, 2007
For My Health
Since nobody's looking right now I'm blogging for my own sanity. Actually, I'm sure that Jess still checks up every once in a while...but...still....
No talk of work. No talk of dogs. Just talk.
I need to start playing piano more. I don't really know what happened to me, but I've completely stopped. I used to like to...now I have found too many excuses to not do it. It's funny how I work in a music store, got a music degree, but hardly call myself musical anymore. Hell, even in the car I just listen to sports talk radio. I should be in a band again. Mike Langhoff, the old drummer of Johnnyrook, wants to start a studio side project with me. I told him I would...but will I? Will I find some stupid excuse to not do it? Maybe.
My mom called this morning. I didn't call her back. Why do I do that?
I think about Haiti a lot still. I keep hearing about refugees that are trying to get over here in small boats and the toils that come along with that. I want to take a boat back over. If I could drop everything I would start sailing the opposite direction. I dream about the place probably twice a month. Vivid dreams. Dreams where I'm back at Wings of Hope. The kids remember me, I speak fluent creole and somehow I feel complete again. Maybe someday I'll convince Jessie to join me in dropping everything and we'll just go. If you ever call the phone and all it says is "We did it", well, we did it.
Thinking of church literally makes me sick to my stomach and twists me in knots. I think I really despise the Christian community. I wonder sometimes if that's a sin. I still believe with all my heart, and it's not like the church has scarred me beyond repair (maybe my college did that job)...I just don't relate. At all. Not even to "hip" churches I'm supposed to relate to. I still think I'm a devoted Christian...however, I get scared sometimes. If you ever read this Brad- call me.
No talk of work. No talk of dogs. Just talk.
I need to start playing piano more. I don't really know what happened to me, but I've completely stopped. I used to like to...now I have found too many excuses to not do it. It's funny how I work in a music store, got a music degree, but hardly call myself musical anymore. Hell, even in the car I just listen to sports talk radio. I should be in a band again. Mike Langhoff, the old drummer of Johnnyrook, wants to start a studio side project with me. I told him I would...but will I? Will I find some stupid excuse to not do it? Maybe.
My mom called this morning. I didn't call her back. Why do I do that?
I think about Haiti a lot still. I keep hearing about refugees that are trying to get over here in small boats and the toils that come along with that. I want to take a boat back over. If I could drop everything I would start sailing the opposite direction. I dream about the place probably twice a month. Vivid dreams. Dreams where I'm back at Wings of Hope. The kids remember me, I speak fluent creole and somehow I feel complete again. Maybe someday I'll convince Jessie to join me in dropping everything and we'll just go. If you ever call the phone and all it says is "We did it", well, we did it.
Thinking of church literally makes me sick to my stomach and twists me in knots. I think I really despise the Christian community. I wonder sometimes if that's a sin. I still believe with all my heart, and it's not like the church has scarred me beyond repair (maybe my college did that job)...I just don't relate. At all. Not even to "hip" churches I'm supposed to relate to. I still think I'm a devoted Christian...however, I get scared sometimes. If you ever read this Brad- call me.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
I know it's been a while but this is too good....
This is why "This Is Why I'm Hot" is hot: Because it's hot. There are of course other reasons the breakout single from Mims, a Washington Heights rapper who intends to carry New York hip-hop on his back and restore us to glory, is hot. It ascended to number one on Billboard's Hot 100, for example, and topped iTunes' singles chart as well. But consider these other, purer, more intangible reasons why it's hot, best explained by Mims himself over the course of the song. Where appropriate, we will back him up with visual aids.
The most amazing line in "This Is Why I'm Hot"—and, even at this early a juncture, quite possibly the most amazing line of any song to see release in 2007—is "I'm hot 'cause I'm fly/You ain't 'cause you not." Brutal and unassailable in its simplicity. Consider the reasoning, first, of just "I'm hot 'cause I'm fly":
Mims is hot because he's fly. But it raises the question: Does being hot guarantee one's being fly? "You ain't 'cause you not" would seem to clear that up:
It would appear that fly and hot are interchangable. If you are one, you are both; if you aren't at least one, you are neither.
If you find completely overlapping Venn diagrams visually unhelpful, consider this tautology:
If that's a bit pretentious, then maybe a blunt flowchart works best:
The other remarkable, oft-quoted line in "This Is Why I'm Hot" is "I could sell a mil' sayin' nothin' on a track." Critics gibe that "This Is Why I'm Hot" proves precisely that; others muse on what Mims would sell if he deigned to actually say something on a track. Would he sell less than a mil'? Exactly a mil', as when he said nothing? Or a great deal more than a mil'? The song does not elaborate.
In any event, note that he can do those things, not will, which suggests he might not. As these claims and predictions are speculative, there are more possible outcomes; it seems reasonable to assert that Mims can't sell more than a mil' sayin' nothin'. Though we would love to see him try.
Sonically, the most entertaining part of "This Is Why I'm Hot" is the first verse, in which Mims underscores his hotness by touting his skill at adapting to regional styles, as the slow, minimal, eerie beat morphs beneath him, sampling both "Nuthin' But a G Thang" and "Jesus Walks." In the Dirty Dirty (South) he makes the ladies bounce. He slows it down in the Midwest per their preference. He does it the Cali way in L.A., and in Chi, in addition to adeptly moving the crowds from side to side, everyone loves his fashion sense. (If you enjoy nothing else about "This Is Why I'm Hot," acknowledge the rakish, immensely appealing way Mims says the word attire.)
Our quarrel lies with "If you need it hyphy/I take it to the Bay," an homage to the Oakland–San Francisco Bay Area's relentlessly knuckleheaded and sorta wonderful hyphy movement, with its proclivities for going dumb, making thizz faces, ghost-riding the whip, etc. (Yahdidabooboo.) But unlike Mims's other geographical shout-outs, that's all he says here—"I take it to the Bay/'Frisco to Sac-town/They do it e'y'day." First of all, no one calls it "Frisco" except rhyme-starved rappers, and the only worthwhile MCs living anywhere near Sacramento are in prison. But even worse, there's no style adjustment here—he just takes it to the Bay. This is wholly insufficient for hotness—several entities that take it to the Bay do not qualify:
The song's other two verses are a relative letdown—Mims can get chopped birds by the flock, he's got money in the bag, he coordinates his outfits, he compels you to Google the word guap, people tend to like how he records, he's into big spendin', bah. He does intimate that we will find him "with different women" that we personally have "never had," which is awfully gentlemanly of him, really. Since we're feeling charitable we'll assume all of Mims's women are hot; with regard to our own conquests, it's best to be honest with ourselves.
Though a fantastic song, "This Is Why I'm Hot" verily reeks of Skee-Lo. It's so distinctive and goofy that no follow-up could possibly do it justice. But even if Mims is not built for endurance, he has given us an invaluable gift nonetheless—reclaiming and re-energizing the word hot after years of abuse. Plumbing one's memory (with a bit of Internet aid) reveals how even reputable musicians have overused the "I'm hot like _____" construction. Behold:
Yes. Mere mortals are hot like other people or things; having ascended to a higher plane, Mims is hot like Mims. It doesn't get hotter than that.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Like I Got the Time
So Jessie did a good enough job of making me feel sufficiently guilty for not posting in a while, and I really want to be here for you when you want the Marty update, but that's also something that Jessie has been good at doing. She's beating me to the punch on everything! But still....
~ So the first item of business isn't the business of Guitar Center, the crazy weather, the ineptitude of Minnesota sport teams, or some random Hank and Wally story, but this....
SIX DAYS!
Probably the hardest thing I've done. I left what seemed like some of my best friends, my greatest comforts and the ones I could always run to when life got too stressful. The problem with these ASSHOLES is that they are trying to murder me. Literally. They make me feel soooo good and whisper these sweet nothings in my ear (lungs) that everything is OK, but in fact they really want to kill me. Bad.
So goodbye to the Camel Special Lights and the occasional Parliament buy two get one free, it's time to part ways. I can't say I won't miss you, but honestly it's the whole thing where I'm paying you my hard earned money to give me cancer and emphysema. So basically...ummm... Fuck off....
~ Speaking of hard earned money work has been crazy. I love it though. Bigger store, bigger business and it's home. Now that the 70 hour work weeks are starting to dwindle down to more like 50 it's giving me a little more energy. Well, apart from the last two days when I've been pretty sick, but once again...I blame those old friends of mine. Now the routine starts and I get this store rockin' so next year when we actually matter, we fire on all cylinders.
And I go back to Cali in a week and a half. Suckers.
~ So the first item of business isn't the business of Guitar Center, the crazy weather, the ineptitude of Minnesota sport teams, or some random Hank and Wally story, but this....
SIX DAYS!
Probably the hardest thing I've done. I left what seemed like some of my best friends, my greatest comforts and the ones I could always run to when life got too stressful. The problem with these ASSHOLES is that they are trying to murder me. Literally. They make me feel soooo good and whisper these sweet nothings in my ear (lungs) that everything is OK, but in fact they really want to kill me. Bad.
So goodbye to the Camel Special Lights and the occasional Parliament buy two get one free, it's time to part ways. I can't say I won't miss you, but honestly it's the whole thing where I'm paying you my hard earned money to give me cancer and emphysema. So basically...ummm... Fuck off....
~ Speaking of hard earned money work has been crazy. I love it though. Bigger store, bigger business and it's home. Now that the 70 hour work weeks are starting to dwindle down to more like 50 it's giving me a little more energy. Well, apart from the last two days when I've been pretty sick, but once again...I blame those old friends of mine. Now the routine starts and I get this store rockin' so next year when we actually matter, we fire on all cylinders.
And I go back to Cali in a week and a half. Suckers.
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