The Exorcism of Emily Rose

A couple nights ago, I finally saw"The Exorcism of Emily Rose." It's a movie that I'd been interested in seeing, and finally got a chance when it came to the cheap movies and when I found someone else who actually wanted to see it.

I didn't expect much going into it, I was hoping that it would be a little scary, but that's about it. It honestly wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. There were a few disturbing/scary scenes, but the majority of them were shown in the previews. It was freaky when the demons would talk, that's always scary, and the most disturbing scene for me was when she does these quick genuflections (I think that's what they're called) where she goes on her knees and pops back up real quick. It's in the previews, but it really is scary.

It felt like something was missing from the movie though. I'm sure whatever the directors had in mind was accomplished, but I would've liked to hear more of the story. They really seemed to focus on the trial of the priest and not as much on the events surrounding Emily Rose. Don't get me wrong though, it is fairly interesting. But they have a possessed girl, five members of her family, a close friend, a priest who performs the exorcism and a doctor who was there, but the main character in the movie is the defense attorney. It seems like they could've picked a different viewpoint of the story or something. But that probably wasn't the point of the movie.

The good thing about the movie is that it raises the controversy of science versus religion. Of course, I'm biased in my Christian background and I believe in demons and possession and all of that, so it was neat to see how these supernatural events were explained. Now, I don't know how many people really believe that possession can be explained as epileptic psychosis or whatever, but obviously if you don't believe in God, you have to explain this stuff somehow. It almost seems like it takes more faith to believe in science than it does to say that there are supernatural beings that exist. Anyways, that was interesting.

The other good thing about the movie is that it reminds me that those things are real. That's a scary thought, and sometimes I'm not sure about how I feel about it all. I believe it, but that's easy to say. I've never had any experience with any of that stuff first hand (demons, angels and whatnot), and I don't know that things would be easier or harder to believe if I did, but often I forget that I do believe in a spiritual battle. It's scary to think that I actually believe there are things out there that can influence me. Heck, as I sit here writing it, I'm not sure I believe it. I wish I knew what my church teaches on all that. Like, how much are we influenced by that? Are certain temptations brought about by my own sin, or is there something whispering in my ear? I don't believe every sin is caused by demons, heck I don't even know if one is. What the heck, I'm confusing myself.

So anyways, the movie was pretty good. They could've made it scarier, but at least it wasn't over-the-top demonic or anything like that. If you've seen it and you actually read this, let me know what you think. I'm too confused to talk about it anymore. Oh and I guess Emily Rose isn't real, but it's based on some girl in Germany named Anneliese Michel. You can google that and read up on it. And the real priests and parents were convicted in her death. I won't ruin the movie by telling you if that preist is convicted. Unless I probably just did by writing that. Oh well, you should've seen it by now. But maybe I put that to trick you into thinking that's what happened.

The Engagement

Well, this is the story of how I proposed to my future wife. I'm writing this story mostly for me, so that I can remember it ten years from now and more. I'm not sure how interesting it'll be, especially if you don't know me, but it was still one of the funnest days of my life and I don't want to forget it.

It all started two nights before: the ring had just arrived from my uncle (Patco Jewelry) in California and I still had no idea what I wanted to do. I hadn't really thought about it, because it still didn't seem real and I work better under pressure, but when that dang ring showed up I knew I had to come up with something. I got nervous and couldn't sleep and then started thinking up little things that might add up to a fun day.

So the next day I had to take half of the day off of work to plan the whole thing. I went to our favorite restaurant, the zoo, our favorite dessert spot and the owners of the house we wanted to buy and asked if they would all help with the plan. Then I got some help from a few friends and my moms. So everything was ready to go for the big day.

***Just as a side note--If you ever want anyone to do something for you, just tell them you're proposing to your girlfriend. Seriously, I talked to managers at the zoo and restaurants and they were willing to do just about anything in the name of love. Anyways, you should try it some time. It's a great manipulating tool, which is good to practice before marriage.

Saturday morning I got up and went over to my girlfriend's house and we looked over some papers and stuff before meeting with the owners of the house. So I was all nervous about the proposal and was able to play it off by saying I was nervous about the house.

Well we met with the owners and made them an offer on the house and they accepted, so we were happy and wanted to "celebrate." I offered to take us out to lunch and tried to hint to her that we should go to our favorite restaurant: Yats.

Well, of course she didn't want to go at all. I had to practically beg to go, which doesn't make a whole lot of sense because Yats really isn't all that great. Just a fun little date. So I'm trying to make it sound like I just really have a craving for some chili cheese etoufee, which I kind of did, but you get the point.

Being the loving girlfriend that she was and knowing how I would eventually be wearing the pants in the family, she finally consented to some Cajun cooking. When we arrived, the manager had everything set up as I had planned. There was a rose with a pink note that said "I love you" waiting at the table I had requested. Now the menu at Yats changes every day, so they write the menu on a chalkboard. The menu for the day had the typical gumbo, B&B, etoufee, etc. and right at the top in huge letters it said, "Will you marry me?"


So my girlfriend stares at the menu and the manager is at the register staring at me and I'm staring at my girlfriend getting all nervous and the whole restaurant is staring at all three of us. Finally I ask her, "Do you know what you want?" And she says, "yep" and goes up and orders her meal. At first I thought she was joking, but after I ordered my meal and got drinks, I realized she didn't see it. Not only did she not see the writing on the wall, but she sat at a different table too. So when I come back with the drinks, there's an empty table with a note and a rose at one end of the room and my girlfriend sitting there smiling at me in the opposite corner. I try to motion her over to the other table and she acts like I'm crazy because she's already situated. Finally (since I wear the pants) she comes over and sees the note and rose.

She sat down and said, "What is this?" So I said, "Are you sure you got what you ordered?" She looks at her meal and says, "Yeah." I pointed to the menu and said, "No, you moron look at the menu." She slapped me and left. Not really. So I point to the menu and say, "Are you sure?" And finally she sees it and starts crying and I start crying (but only cause the food was spicy) and by this time all the customers in the restaurant are staring at us and they are both crying (cause I get gas when I'm nervous and had been blowing that place apart).

So I told her that I was going to ask her to marry me, but I wasn't ready to just yet. I had a whole day planned, so she would have to wait for me to get on my knees and do it right. We tried to eat, but I was too nervous and thought it wouldn't be a good idea to mix that meal with my nervous energies. So we left and went to the next stop for the day: The Indianapolis Zoo.


Well, we really didn't go to the zoo. They have this thing within the zoo called the White River Gardens.


It's just a huge garden. There is this big butterfly house of glass and ponds and flowers and stuff. It's pretty cool, I guess.



It's a good place to go if you're trying to get laid someone to marry you. So the Gardens has this miniature train that rides around ponds and various places and I thought that would be a neat place to put the next rose and note. I talked to the manager there and they agreed to help, so my roommates at the time (a couple of seissup)



went before we got there and set everything up.

My girlfriend and I arrived and looked at butterflies and just walked around trying to soak everything in. I was still nervous and hoping that my pants were soaking all of the gas in. We spent a long time just enjoying it and I took her to a bench that we always go to and had a stuffed animal hidden up in a tree with another rose and note. She of course didn't see it, so I had to point it out and she got it and was happy.



So then we went to where the train was riding around and she actually saw that one on the first try. It looked hilarious and people were watching us. One little kid tried to steal the rose before my girlfriend could get to it, so we pushed the kid in the pond, grabbed the rose and took off.



Next we went to our favorite dessert joint; a shop that sells frozen custard desserts and is owned by an energetic woman named Rhonda. This ice cream shop is creatively named, Rhonda's Frozen Custard. We were frequent customers, so it was exciting for her to help me out when I told her I was asking my girlfriend to marry me. Rhonda has one of those huge signs outside with the letters that you can change, like when McDonald's used to change the "Millions and Millions Served." So I asked her to put up in big letters, "I love you, will you marry me" or something like that. So that looked hilarious and I had another rose and note attached to her Reece's Peanut Butter Cup Arctic Freeze.



After that came the romantic part of the day where I took her to my parents place to play a song on the piano and read her a letter. I fumbled through the complex chord structures (C,D,A) and haunting melodies of my love ballad while she tried to make sense of what I had written on paper.



After that we played a game of Aggravation, which is a favorite of ours. I won since I rule at that game.

Then we went to the house we had just agreed to buy. My mom, her mom and her sister had been setting up our future bedroom with flowers, a blanket, music, wine and pretzels. This was the place that I proposed. It was really nice and I got down on my knee and everything.



The only catch was that I had the real ring in my pocket. The one I put on her finger was a $9.99 special from Wal-Mart. And even worse was that she liked it! She either really liked it, or didn't want to hurt my feelings. I thought for sure she would know it was a joke right away and we would laugh it off, but she was so happy and I just couldn't believe it. So like an idiot, I let the joke keep going.



So then we went to the Bachelor Pad for an engagement party and she starts showing the ring off to all of her friends and stuff. And none of them have the heart to tell her it's fake, or they think it's real too. So now it's even worse, cause I don't want her to be embarrassed. I started telling the guys about it, so we were cracking up. Eventually I had to pull her aside and tell her the truth. The good news is that she liked the real ring so much that she forgave me for tricking her.

*Bling!*

So then we went out and had a grand ol' time and now we're married.

Oh yeah, and I had made a crossword puzzle and word search with hidden messages in there. Just so I don't forget. So there ya have it, and if you read this far, you must be related to me. Just wanted to get this down to look back on and remember from time to time. If I ever think about it, I'll add some pictures to this post from the party and stuff. For now, you'll just have to imagine it.

Oh and of course, we live happily ever after...

I Got My Ass Kicked Last Night

Recently I bought a new house. New to me, but the thing is old. So we're completely re-doing the kitchen, which is exciting and fun. My job is to gut the place, which is also fun. I get to tear out cabinets and ceilings and floors and all. So last night I got started on some of that. A couple friends showed up to help, which I'm very thankful for and is one of the benefits of living in a community.

So anyways, the house definitely fought back. First I was tearing out some cabinets along one of the walls, and I swear I turned off the power to the electrical stuff on that side. Well, I guess I didn't and I freaking electrocuted myself on one of the live wires. That really sucks. Seriously, I hate that feeling. My teeth are still chattering. Not to mention, I felt stupid. I've still got a little mark on my wrist were it shocked me. It felt similar to when we all grabbed the electric fence out at the Curry farm. A little stronger though.

Then when I was chipping some tiles off of the wall, a tiny ceramic splinter dug into my pinky. I didn't find it till later that night, after the skin had already started to heal over it. So I had to perform minor surgery with a thumb tack.

Then the worst was when I was under the sink, trying to take it apart. A tiny speck of something fell into my eye and wouldn't come out. I didn't think it was that bad when it happened, but last night was freaking miserable. Everytime I closed my eyelid, it would rub against my eye. I couldn't get it out for the life of me. I ended up having to hold the eyelid up a little bit while I slept, and that somehow worked. I was hoping it would work itself to the corner of my eye overnight, but it didn't. So then all day today my eye was driving me crazy. Seriously, there's not much worse than a tiny something that constantly pecks away at you. Especially in the eye. I think I would literally go insane if I had to go through another night of it. Well, luckily I finally got fed up and went to the bathroom determined to get it out. I ended up having to fold my eyelid inside-out and finally found the speck. It took about two full minutes of scraping around in there before I finally got it out. That stupid little thing was the size of a pinhead, if not smaller. It looked like a speck of metal though, so that explains the sharp pain. Now my eye's swole and I feel like I just got in a fight. And lost.

So anyways, I feel all beat up today and I'm a little afraid of going over there to finish up. Anyone have any good tips on removing linoleum?

Note to Self: Please Read in 10 Years

Dear Me,

I am writing this so that in ten years you will remember what happened. I am assuming by now you are rich beyond your wildest dreams and have about 8 kids. Good work my friend. I trust they are all from the same mother. How's Kyle doing?

This note is to remind you how to score points with your wife of ten years now. Remember the day you guys were coming home from church (her church by the way, you're so PW), and she wanted some Long's Donuts, but you weren't a big fan and didn't really want any? You decided to go get some anyways, but upon seeing the line you complained again. Somehow this tiny little decision turned into a big argument between you and your loving wife, and you were dumbfounded as to how it could turn into such a thing.

Of course it was not your fault (as you well know, because it never is), but instead of trying to prove your point to those who will never understand (namely, everyone except for you), you decided to humble yourself. After dropping her off to do some homework, you snuck back to the bakery and bought a few precious donuts. Your loving wife was so surprised and happy that she forgot all about her previous (unwarranted) anger and dove into the sweet doughy deliciousness that is Long's Donuts.

Remember this small act and how it scored big points on the eternal tab being kept by your wife. Don't forget that it is better to shut up and do what she wants than to try to prove why she is wrong.

Sincerely,
You

Make it Stop!

Well, I spent THREE HOURS of my afternoon yesterday stuffing envelopes for wedding invitations. Man, that's ridiculous. Everybody already knows everything about it anyways. Boy, I can't wait till this stuff is done. It's a lot of work. Oh well.

Westmont College

Well, when we were in California, I finally got to take my fiancé to Westmont. It was a beautiful day and I should have taken more pictures. I meant to get a shot of the "penis tree," but forgot. It's a tree that has one huge phallic branch that defines the whole tree. It's pretty awesome. Sorry I don't have a photo of that to share. All I've got is a shot of the prayer chapel that's near a pond. Definitely a favorite spot of mine on campus.


She got to see the old dorms and classrooms and that was neat to share with her. Westmont also has the Wardrobe (Read story here) that inspired C.S. Lewis to write "The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe" (can't wait for the movie!). That's pretty cool. It's in the English building.


We also got to stop in for a quick lunch and I forgot how awesome that used to be. Free drinks, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, fruit and soft serve ice cream any time you want it. Those were the good ol' days. We made sure to leave with a handful of cookies and a vanilla ice cream with sprinkles. Those days seem great to me now, but at the time I was always thinking of when I would come home. Weird how that works.

One embarrassing moment that happened in that cafeteria was near the end of my first year there. During the year at the dorm I was staying, they would have what's called a "study break." Everyone would stop whatever they were studying and head to the lounge for some kind of treat, usually a dessert. Well, once a year they do a campus-wide study break at the DC (dining commons). Some of the faculty show up and serve breakfast type foods (pancakes and such) to all of the students at like 10:00 at night. It's a lot of fun and a pretty cool thing to do, so I was looking forward to it.

About a week before that night I had taken some work to the beach so that I could study for finals. Well, I'm retarded and fell asleep studying and ended up being out there for like four hours. It's probably the worst I've ever been burnt. My face was literally purple. So it sucked and was painful and I deserved it.

So a week later it was starting to heal, and that meant a lot of peeling. I had like huge cracks all over my face and some of the spots had already lost the skin. So part of my face was dark and cracked and part of it was white with new skin. I looked like a leper. I was hideous.

Alright, so my friends and I all head down to get a meal together. We were late getting there, so the whole cafeteria was packed. It was seriously like every student in the school. So we go through the line and I grab my pancakes and some sausages and I'm feeling pretty good about myself. I get my drinks and turn to my friends (about 7 of them) and say something like, "Hurry up you tools, it's getting cold." And they say something about following me to a seat.

So I start walking to an open table and I hear the guys behind me singing "Happy Birthday." So I think, "Oh that's cool, someone's having a birthday party tonight." So the whole school stops eating and stares back at us to see who is having a birthday. I'm pretty curious at this point too, so I turn around. Sure enough, my friends have surrounded me and are singing happy birthday right in my decrepit face.

All I could do was turn around and smile at my fellow students, pretending to enjoy this nice surprise on my birthday. I'm sure if my face wasn't already burnt and cracked, it would've turned five shades of red. When I smiled, more cracks appeared and made me look all leathery (if that makes sense).

So I was pretty embarrassed and had to talk to people who thought it was my birthday and all my friends thought they were pretty clever. I was able to get revenge, but that's another story for another day.

Santa Barbara Sunrise

Just got back from my brother's wedding in sunny Santa Barbara. Here's a picture of my fiance and I at sunrise the day after the wedding. It was awesome. Hopefully I'll get more pictures up later, but probably not. I'm too lazy. I'll try to write more later too. It was such an awesome time. Surfed with seals at sunset too. I'm not sure if we got any pictures of that though. Anyways, it was a much needed vacation and I was proud to see my brother get married. Good times.

Trash Day

So our church had a community trash pick up day on Saturday and I had some time in the morning, so I went on over to lend a hand. Our neighborhood has no shortage of trash to be picked up, so I figured whatever help I could give would be well received. I wish I spent more time just wandering through the neighborhood, because it's an adventure every time.

I started out with a group of four and we made our way through the streets picking up everything from beer bottles to Wendy's fries and a few losing lotto tickets. The strangest item I found was a tiny booklet about the size of a wallet photo that was entitled "How To Use a Condom." Unfortunately, a few feet from the booklet, I found that it was quite an informative little document and someone had made good use of its contents.

Another interesting thing I saw that morning were a couple of my fellow neighbors. One was a guy in his early thirties who was heading home from a late night out (heading home at 10:00 in the morning) and noticed me with a trash bag. "Doing some community service?" he asked. "Yeah," I answered, because it was a service and this was my community. "What they catch you with this time?" was his response. It's unfortunate that he could only imagine someone doing that kind of work as a punishment for some crime. So I told him I got caught building a meth lab and the two of us went inside and finished off the beer and grass he had from the night before.

The other encounter I had with a true West Indy resident was an older lady who had stepped outside for a morning smoke. This really was amazing. I can't remember what the conversation was, because I quickly became mezmerized by the cigarette she had hanging out of her mouth. I swear it was just an extension of her lip. She was somehow able to talk, laugh, smile and smoke without ever taking the thing out of her mouth. It bobbed up and down with her speech, always on the verge of popping out, but miraculously never left her lips. I swear it really was amazing. The very tip was all that she had hold of, but that thing wasn't going anywhere. You'd have to see it to truly admire what I'm trying to describe. Hopefully you witness it somewhere, because it's a rare treat to see.

Those were the highlights of my community service work, along with a stray dog that I fed dried lunchmeat and chicken broth, and a couple of kids running around barefoot amidst a huge pile of broken boards, glass, TVs, couches and an old dog house. It was a morning that once again made me question what the heck I'm doing here and at the same time made me wish I had the strength and courage to make a difference while I am here. Good ol' West Indianapolis.

Mawwaige

Well, I get married in like 3 months. That's pretty crazy. But even crazier is that I leave for my brother's wedding this coming Wednesday. I mean, it still doesn't feel like it's really happening. I'm so excited for the trip and the event, even more so than my own. I get to head out west to sunny CA, my fiance gets to meet all the family out there (which is going to be interesting), and I get to watch my only brother get married. Crazy.

I'll tell you what though, planning for a wedding is a freaking joke. I can't believe all the stuff that has to be done. I'm glad wives are involved, because I would be clueless. I've met with two photographers (along with the bride and mom-in-law), and confirmed that I know nothing about what makes a good/creative picture/album/package. The whole time all of the women were looking at stuff, saying how nice this is and how cute that is, and I swear everything looked the same. Afterwards, I was pretty sure we had found what we wanted (based on how positive everyone seemed during the meeting), only to find that this person was uncreative and apparently I could do the same by going to Sam's Club to develop my pictures. It goes to show that even when women are being nice and polite, that doesn't mean they like you. It also goes to show that if I planned a wedding, I'd have the ushers double as photographers and get the film developed at Sam's Club. Needless to say, I'm not meeting with any more photographers.

And when did people start having to buy a ridiculously enormous cake for everyone? I'm lost on that one too. It makes more sense to have a bunch of little desserts and such. Nobody really likes the cake anyways, it's more of a decoration than a food. And I wish I didn't have to spend so much time dancing with people. I'm gonna be dang tired. At least there's the dollar dance, which is always pretty awkward. And why do we have to have a "wedding song" that we dance to together in front of everyone? I don't like dancing much in the first place, let alone trying to fabricate a romantic moment in front of a bunch of people who are pretty bored and half drunk by this point anyways. Then everyone gets on the dance floor and half of the guys head toward the keg. Fun times.

In all seriousness though, I couldn't be happier for my brother or myself. I'd say we both got pretty lucky and hopefully we will both raise happy, loving, Godly families. I just wish I could move my friends, family and fiance out to Santa Barbara.

I really am excited and I'll be glad when the whole show is over. Right now I'm just looking forward to seeing how my brother handles it. Should be a lot of fun.

Content Living in a Pigpen

So church camp was a week ago and I could devote an entire blog to that, but I won't. Fr. David quoted a great little tidbit from C.S. Lewis (of course) about how we're too easily pleased with the pigpen that we live in and can't even imagine the goodness that was planned for us. To make a long story short, I'm far to easily pleased.

Along with that, I actually do live in a pigpen. My neighborhood sucks. It really does. I've grown up here and I feel like I have so much invested emotionally and I wish things would get better and I always try to tell myself that they will, but I know that it probably won't. It will probably get worse and we live in a fallen world anyways, so it's not like anywhere else would be paradise. Although it may seem like it in comparison.

So yesterday an elderly couple in our neighborhood was robbed at gunpoint by some punk kids for a few hundred bucks. I guess it was more like 900 bucks, which is another example of why old folks need to learn that banks do exist and won't steal your money. But that's beside the point. The point is that I live in a crappy neighborhood.

So here's an example of some of the exitement I get to witness because I live here: Last night I was driving home late at night and I happened to drive past a couple of prostitutes who were diligently working our streets. I drove past them and then pulled around the corner and parked my car, because I was home and that's what you do when you get home. Well, these two prostitutes saw me pull over and park and must have gotten the wrong idea, because they began looking for me.

I should back up a little bit. This has actually happened to me on one other occasion, so I was half expecting it this time. So when I parked, I hurried up to my house and into the screened porch before they turned the corner to see where I went.

So I stood there and watched as these two women scoured up and down the street for what must have seemed like a potential client. They must have thought I was hiding somewhere in order to be more discreet and avoid being seen by all of the concerned inhabitants of our neighborhood. It really was sad and I'm not sure why I even tell this story, but they spent a good ten minutes looking around my block and in my yard and around the car before heading back out to the major streets.

So what's the point of all this? I have no idea. What am I supposed to do? How do I help? What's the point of living in a neighborhood like this if I'm not going to do anything to make a difference? I should just move to Carmel. I love this neighborhood and all of the crap I've had to deal with over the years. I just don't know how to change it. Or maybe I do know and I'm just too scared to make those changes in my own life.

Where the heck are my comments?

Dangit, It's been like forever since I've posted, and now all of my stupid comments are gone. Does anyone have any idea how I can prevent this from happening in the future? Is it just Haloscan, or is it because I've been inactive or something. Stupid blogging.

Italia

Hopefully I'll have time to write more, but our trip to Italy was awesome! This picture was taken while eating a scrumptulescent gelato in front of the Pantheon at night. It's taking forever to learn how to mess with these dang pictures. I've got tons of them. Anyways, if you ever get a chance to go to Italy, don't pass it up. Duh.

Gizoogle.com

If you haven't heard about Gizoogle.com, then you've got to check this site out. It's hilarious. It ghettocizes websites and searches. Take a few minutes to try it out, I was cracking up. Here's a link to this website as seen through the eyes of Gizzogle: Life in Tha Shadows

Crazy Chicken?

Ange sent me this. It's pretty fun and crazy. Let me know what funny things you can get it to do. I've only tried "shake your booty." It works though.

Crazy Chicken

Miller Retires this Year

Thanks for the memories Reggie.


-Story Here-

Place the State

Here's a fun little U.S. geography quiz. Place the state and see how well you do. I got a 88% my first time. It's tougher than it looks.



Map Quiz

Living the Dream

Well, it's been a heck of a week. The biggest highlight of my week, besides two pretty fun parties last weekend, and seeing Napolean Dynamite for the first time on Sunday, was definitely quitting my job. If you have never quit your job, I recommend it. It's a great experience. The only thing I wish I could've done, and it's still a dream of mine, is to go in there and see what it takes to get fired. Because I'm a really good employee, and it would've been awesome to just go nuts on them and see how much they would take before firing me.

The reason I quit is a really long story, and I'm not going to get into it all. But last week felt like a big conspiracy against me. I work for a (well, used to work for a) temp service, and a buddy of mine told me how he had gotten a raise just by talking to them. So I called them up to ask about how they figure my pay, and that's definitely a big "no-no." They told me it "really isn't any of your business." The lady got all snippy with me. I was like, "Well, that's cool." Dud. So I never named any names or even mentioned that I knew someone got a raise, and the next day I come into work, my buddy is no longer there. He got fired the night after I called in.

So he was my ping-pong buddy, and that was the biggest perk of the job I was at, so I decided I had had enough. So Monday I went in and told them that I refuse to work with integrity and honesty for a company built upon deception and manipulation. Then I told them I had something for them in my pocket and pulled out my middle finger and told them to take this job and shove it. Not really, but I should have.

So now I'm living the dream life for a while. I play Mike Tyson's Punch Out, Super Mario Brothers, and the original Zelda on Nintendo, while drinking cheap beer and sleeping in till 10. Unfortunately, I think I may already have another job set up; but until then, pass me another Stroh's.

Patches

How sweet would this be? Patches the Horse

Skiing, Falling, Screaming, and "Wipples"

This weekend, we had our annual ski trip to Perfect North Slopes, aka "PNS" (don't say that five times fast. Okay, do. Haha, I'm in fifth grade again. Wanna join the Pen 15 club?). We had an awesome time, and although we probably deserved it, nobody broke any bones. There were times when it would snow really hard, and the wind would almost blow it straight up from the ground. It was truly beautiful. Ice had frozen thick on the sides of some of the trees, and I thought for sure that they would snap and fall on the lift cables. Good thing that never happened either.

One time on the lift, we saw this guy take a really hard fall. He was on a steep hill and couldn't stop sliding all the way down. The best part was that he was screaming bloody murder the whole way. It was hilarious. He was sliding in slow motion, and could have easily stopped himself, but he just kept screaming like he was about to die. We were cracking up. We decided that skiing would be a lot more entertaining if everyone screamed like that when they fell, instead of trying to play it off. Then this morning on my way to work, I saw a business-lady trip on her own two feet. I thought how much more interesting life would be if we all had to scream like that whenever we tripped or anything. It would be a lot funnier for the people who witness it, and might even make it less embarassing. So the next time you trip or fall or anything, just scream like your life depended on it. It'll make for a memorable day.

Anyways, one of the highlights on the trip came when we were driving home. We decided to stop at a random southern Indiana town to find a beer and burger joint. We chose the small town of Sunman, just off of I-74. I started having flashbacks of every horror movie I've seen where the young college kids wander into some small hick-town, with residents who all hold the secret of some freak family that likes to dismember strangers who come wandering in for beer and burgers.

The first place we saw was Wheel's Pizza. We weren't in the mood for pizza, but thought they might be able to direct us to the nearest burger joint (with beer). So after doing a half-donut in their parking lot, so that everyone stares out the window and the owner calls the local deputy, AJ went in to ask directions. He said that after asking them where he should go, some lady in the back of the restaurant had one word for him: "Wipples." "Wipples?" he asked. "Yeah, you want to go to Wipples." Okay.

So we got directions for Wipples and headed into town. Sunman actually seemed like a nice quaint little town, with a small but cozy downtown area, complete with bars and grills and Wipples. We found Wipples without any trouble, and decided to venture in. Unfortunately, nothing exciting happened and we weren't chased by chainsaw-wielding maniacs, which would've made for an incredible blog-post. Instead we found that they had already sent the cook home, so we couldn't get any burgers. They recommended that we try going across the street to "Tha Store Cafe."

"Tha Store Cafe" (and no, that's not a typo) is home to "Louie's Place: Bar and Grill." At last we had found what we were looking for. We sat amongst the heart and soul of America's Midwest: drunks, tramps, waiters, veterans, and bartenders. They served us the best bowl of slaw I've ever eaten. My burger and fries were also delicious, and the ambience was not lacking either. We drank pitchers of beer and smoked old Swishers while heart-pounding Rock and soul-piercing Country blazed out of the jukebox right behind us. We were surrounded by cigarette smoke, bourbon, and a big black tube of "Ass-Lube." It's best not to ask about that one.

It was a great trip, and hopefully we can make it an anal...excuse me, annual tradition. For the few of you who read this, I have a question for you: What do you think "Wipples" stands for? We asked ourselves this question, and I forget what all we came up with. Now I'm thinking maybe it's a new Muppet character or something. What do you think?

Dolls are the SCARIEST!! (by far)

I've decided to complete my session on the scariest things in the world. Number three on this list doesn't really count, so really these are the three things that scare me the most:
1) Dolls
2) Clowns
3) Pictures of dolls and clowns
4) Old ladies
5) Scariest things on the internet

Now, you may think that I'm just doing this to make a funny post or whatever, and that is partly true. But I genuinely don't like dolls. They seriously scare me, and if I was in a room with me and a bunch of dolls, I really would feel scared and uncomfortable. It's not like a mortal fear of them or something-- I once worked with a girl who had a true phobia of "little people." She said she couldn't even watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory because of the Ooompa Loompas.
I thought she was just joking, until a little person came into work, and she seriously started having trouble breathing and stuff. She was frightened.

So when I say I'm scared of dolls, I guess it's not that bad. But this isn't just a joke either.

According to The Indexed Phobia List, the fear of dolls is called, "Pediophobia;" which is really close to pedophile, so be careful how you use it. Now we need to get more specific about which dolls I'm talking about, or rather which dolls I'm not talking about.

I'm not talking about Barbie Dolls,
(although this one's pretty scary) because Barbies aren't really dolls anyway. There more of a figurine. Like a G.I. Joe or something.

And I'm not talking about Cabbage Patch Dolls either,
(although this one's pretty scary) because Cabbage Patch Dolls are more like stuffed animals.

The dolls I'm talking about are the little ones that young girls have and like to use for tea parties and dress up games. Or the ones where the little eyelids go up and down.

Now those are freaking scary. I have always been scared of stuff like that. Even when I was a kid. I wonder where that comes from?

I don't see how people can sleep with dolls in their room either. Seriously, those of you who do or did, how were you not scared? I would still wet my bed if I woke up every morning with this staring at me:

I think it is something about the eyes. They're watching me. Maybe that's it. Maybe I don't like to be looked at. With their beady blank stares. Never blinking, unless you're a Chatty Cathy doll. Was it the Chatty Cathy doll that blinked? Blinking's even worse than a blank stare. And it's always girl dolls. Although here's a scary boy doll:


I guess that's all I really have to say about that. I hope I don't have a girl when I'm married, cause I don't know if I could let her have dolls in the house. And that's not a joke. Am I alone on this, or is it not true that dolls are scary? There's just something about them. Here's some more scary dolls, and a link to the scariest page full of scary dolls. Have fun.


Scary Site

Scariest things on the internet

Some People are Just Assholes

Well, I had a really good weekend: the Colts spanked Denver, I'm almost finished moving, I got to play some poker again, and guys group was great as always. But something stupid happened, and I was surprised to find out how upset I got for like twenty seconds.

Saturday morning we got like three inches of wet snow here in Indy. It really was incredibly beautiful, because the snow found a way to stick to every branch and fence and telephone wire. So everything was covered in white, and it just looked awesome.

Well, I went out to shovel the walk, and was amazed at how well the snow was sticking together. It would've been perfect for a snowball fight, but since I was by myself, I decided to make a snowman. This is something I haven't done in a long time, and the snow was just perfect for it. So it took about a half-hour to built a five foot snowman. By the time I was through, I was too tired to bother giving him a carrot nose, or coal eyes, or a hat. But I was still proud of my creation.

So anyways, he was still standing guard in the front yard Sunday morning when I left for church. But as I made my way home, I could tell from half a block away that something had gone terribly wrong. It was warming up and the snow was melting, but I knew ol' Frosty was big enough to last through at least another day. So I wondered why I couldn't see him standing there anymore. When I got closer, I saw his frozen, molested body lying helpless on the ground.

He was still intact, but had fallen over backwards. At first I thought that maybe he was just a little top-heavy and had fallen down. But as I leaned in close to whisper a few parting words, I noticed a size twelve footprint imbedded into his chest. I couldn't believe it. What kind of sick man (because it was a large foot) kicks a snowman down? And why? How in the world could a snowman offend someone to the point where they feel that it must be destroyed? He didn't do anything wrong. And who doesn't like to see a snowman in a yard? I finally realized that some people are just assholes and do stuff like that because they have small penises.

Then my thirty seconds of anger was up, and I just kind of laughed at the whole situation and at myself for having gotten upset at it. I can always make another snowman. I guess that guy can always get some Enzyte.

Life in the D.R.

As you all now know, my girlfriend is living in the Dominican Republic for a while to learn (aprender) espanol. Does anyone know how to make the cool squiggly line over the "n" in espanol? So I'm stuck at home with all the time in the world, trying not to worry about her.

The first news I heard was that they (her and a friend who is also studying in the D.R., but at a different city and program) had arrived safely, but that Anna (the friend) didn't have her luggage. Also that every guy was hitting on them. Needless to say, I was comforted and worry-free with this news. Dud. I felt so helpless. It sucks. But they really were okay. I'm sure like any country, there are plenty of beautiful things there... but unfortunately the city they are in is not one of them. I guess it was really dirty, and their hotel had bugs in it, and hair in the showers and stuff. Ah, the things we take for granted.

Then there's the whole guys hitting on them thing. I'm glad she grew up in my neighborhood, where it's common for an attractive girl (or anything that has two of something resembling a breast) to be ogled at by men (or anyone standing within ten miles of the local Village Pantry). So she's used to having guys yell at her or whatever. Here's what she said in an email:

"we are OUTCASTS!!!...this morning we just walked around the
streets by our hotel for two hours and i'm not
kidding, AT LEAST every other guy said something to
us, yells, hisses at us, honks, everything@!!!!"

So once again, I was comforted to hear how well things were going. She also said that the Dominican Spanish dialect removes the "s" from words. So they would pronounce "gracias," as "gracia." That's weird, and I guess it's hard for her to get used to.

It's hard for me to get used to people hissing at my girlfriend. Seriously, who hisses? She said it happens a lot. I guess they feel deprived from not being able to say "s" in their words, so they bottled it all up and it finally explodes in a series of hisses. Whatever. I'm glad I'm American. And a guy. I've never heard of a girl hissing at a guy. I think I would freak out.

--I found this cool Spanish/English dictionary site--

"Time: You Ain't No Friend of Mine"

Time is a strange, strange thing. It's man made, which is very odd to me. It seems like something as important as time should have already had a system made up for itself. And I guess it did, what with seasons and all.

But really, I don't know that time works in the way we would like it to. I mean, I can count off seconds, and that means that so many "seconds" have passed. And that means that something has changed with the relation of the earth to the sun or moon or something or other, or however we made up "time." But time in my life just isn't that cut and dry.

I guess I should just get to the point, which has to do with my girlfriend leaving for four months. She left last Friday, so last week was our "last" week together. We tried to spend time doing things we love to do together: Ms.Pacman, piano, Yats, Rhonda's Custard, walks, talks, and just generally being around each other. That week just flew by. Seriously, it was like I blinked and all of a sudden she's off through security at the airport. And the second she went through that metal detector, time just started slowing waaaaaaaaaay down.

This last week has felt so long. It sucks missing someone, and having no control over their safety and having to trust completely in them and in God that they will be safe. As if I have any control over that stuff anyways. But there's something about her being so far away that makes it worse. So the days just kind of slug along, and it's hard to say why.

And I'm not sure that it's a bad thing either. Usually when people talk about a long day, it's negative. Why is that? Why do bad days seem to take longer than good days? And why is it that when you're really doing something you love, time just ceases to exist? Sometimes when I'm playing piano, I have no sense of time and it's like I'm in some other world. It's hard to explain, but I'm sure everyone has this experience with something. It happens when you're having a good conversation with a friend, or maybe eating a nice bowl of Rhonda's Frozen Custard.

The other thing that makes time messed up, is that not everyone dies at the same age. So if I die when I'm thirty, and someone else dies at sixty, then one day in my life is a larger percentage of "day" for me, than the sixty year old. Each year is a thirtieth of my life, but a sixtieth of the other guy's. So how is it fair for us to use the same measure of "time?"

And as we get older, it would make sense that the days would seem like less and less. For instance, when you're one year old- that year should feel like forever, because it has been forever. But then when you're ten, that same year doesn't feel so long, because it's only a tenth of your life. So by the time you're ninety, a day is like nothing.

But not every day feels like that. Not every day is shorter than the one before it. Why not? Why can some days feel so long, and others just fly by. Especially when we know that the same amoount of minutes and seconds are in each day. Which is why it makes sense that after we die, we will all live forever. And all moments will be the same one, because there will be no measure of change. We'll all be who we are and everything will already be what it is, and time will become useless. Or maybe not. Who knows.

These are all rhetorical questions by the way, and I'm sorry if you've struggled to make sense of any of this. I'm not really trying to make sense, just rambling along here. The point of it all is that I miss my girlfriend. That's all.

2004: A Blog's Beginnings

There are a ton of things I want to blog about right now, but I'm not going to have the time. So for now, I'm going to list a few of my favorite posts from this site in 2004. These are posts that I think of as must reads for this site. Well, maybe not a must read, but hopefully they're entertaining. I got this great idea from Nominal Me.

"Sun Dogs, Kermit, and the Rainbow Connection"- This post is about sun dogs. If you don't know what a sun dog is, you should definitely find out. It's worth it just to see the picture here.

"And Thirty-Four Cent"- This post is about what we can all learn from the homeless and needy in our society.

"Annoying Co-workers!!!"- This post is good if you have an annoying co-worker, and you want to know you're not alone.

"Hairy Men: Cheer it, or Shear it?"- Find out if it's kosher for men to shave in places below the neck.

"It's like wiping before you poop...It don't make no sense."- There's more than one way to skin a cat.

"It's Yo Balls!"- A day in the life of a public school substitute teacher.

Miscarriages and Abortions- A more serious post on said topic.

Scary Old Ladies and Scary Clowns- Two of the scariest things alive.