Obscure Anniversaries

Okay, so today marks two separate anniversaries from the past two years. One is the particular day of the week, and the other is the actual date.

If You Get Caught Between Some Thugs and New York City

First off, two years ago on October 28-29, I was en route to Boston when I was mugged. A fellow intern and I had a brief stop in NYC while waiting for our transfer bus. Since the Port Authority bus terminal is located right next to Times Square, we decided to go check it out. This was my first time to set foot in New York and Chris' second time there. I kid you not, that I had been in the city for fifteen minutes when I called 911 to tell them I had been mugged. Everything turned out well. The fine men and women of the NYPD apprehended the thugs who accosted my friend and me, but they say they never found my $20. So I was out a wallet (kept for evidence, but all inside was returned) and a bus ticket. But I got to continue onto Bean town and had a great time there. Now, every time that I go to the Big Apple, I take the people with me to show them the exact spot where the crime took place. The thing that pissed me off the most was that one guy, who actually stole stuff from Chris started running away, turned around and came to me, swore at me and punched me. He didn't need to do that. However, that only helped me to better identify him when he was apprehended. It also got him increased charges.

Blind Melon

Now, last year: It was the second Monday on my job. I had to go to the store to buy apple cider for an FHE activity. Tonight is the Monday after my 1 year anniversary at my job. You see, that night, I think I became the worst person in the world officially. When I was walking back to the metro to take the cider to the church, I came across a blind man. He was walking with his stick to help him I was in a hurry, and I tried to get well out of his way. The thing is, those little sticks have quite the range. The man stuck it right between my legs mid-stride. When I took my next step, there was a SNAP and then the stick came out of the blind man's hand. He cussed. I apologized, and picked up the limp, broken stick and returned it to him. I believe I missed the train that was coming and just went to my platform. A few minutes later I saw him descend the stairs, having managed to fix his walking utensil. I felt bad, and then I felt worse cause I laughed at the situation. I saw him once more, but that's it. I guess I can take comfort in the fact that he can't see me. However, up to this day. I try to stay far away from blind people whenever I see them. When they are near me I say to myself "go away, don't you know I am dangerous?" I actually saw a blind man getting off the Metro, and that is what made me remember the momentous occasion of this anniversary. On a side note, I had a friend in high school who's mother was (I assume she still is) blind. She was a dear, sweet lady. I only spoke with her a couple of times, but when I would talk with her, I always noticed that she would say "it's nice to see you again." I would think "but wait...?" Then I would quietly chuckle to myself.
So, in my humble opinion, the NYPD has great men and women working for them. Also, I hope that hell is a lovely place as I am almost assuredly going to spend my eternities there.

Spooktacular Halloween Party

Hi, It's late, and I have to work tomorrow, but I thought I would post some pictures from the fun-filled Halloween party I went to last night. My reason for doing this is to show the world my super-cool costume, which won me 2nd place in the costume contest (I got a lot of comments from others that I should have won 1st place).
The funny thing is that earlier in the day I had no intentions of wearing a costume to the party. You see, I cleaned out the fridge at my apartment, which was disgusting. After that, I knew that I needed to get some cleaning supplies at Target so I called Sara. We went and while I was there, I thought I should be Papa Smurf. So in the next few hours, we amassed the supplies to make me a smurftastic costume. With her help, I became this.

Papa Smurf (a.k.a. Me)

There were all sorts of fun costumes there:

Sara (my costume designer) as a witch with me

Shelly, Sundee, Sara and Karen as some of my favorite candies

Melanie, Cat and Amy looking lovely, like something from a Jane Austin novel, which was their intent.

Alexis and Jennie as Hot Sauce from Taco Bell

Brian--Shocking!!

When it came to the costume contest, however, I lost out to Madonna. I felt a little jipped since she had a huge entourage that cheered really loudly for her right by the judges. But, all-in-all, I have got to give props to Cubby for her great portrayal of the Material Girl, even though I did think that is was Phyllis Diller for a minute.
The great thing about winning second place is the prize. You see I got a toy gun, and the winner of first prize won a coupon for a plate of cookies from the guys who live at the "Party Palace" where the party was held. I know that I would never have redeemed the coupon, so I can take comfort in knowing that I walked away with something.
So, in my smurfing opinion, this Halloween smurf was smurfarific.

Sending Our Love (and Money) down the Well

Okay, so I am a little miffed right now. I just finished reading a story about someone who most Americans won't know by name. However, I would dare say that most Americans over the age of 25 know who she is, and may even feel a slight connection to her. You see, it was 20 years ago this week that Jessica McClure wandered away and fell into a well in her (or possibly a neighbor's, I'm not too sure) backyard. She was stuck underground in an eight inch pipe, and rescuers worked around the clock for 58 hours to free her while an American audience watched the harrowing experience unfold on their television screens.
Luckily, all went well. Baby Jessica, then 18 months old, was freed from her three-day prison with minimal injuries. A photo of the rescue won a Pulitzer Prize, a made-for-tv movie was made about the event (Patty Duke starred--that was big time in the eighties), if I am not mistaken, there was a semi-parody of the event on the Simpsons, and thousands of "well-wishers" (pun intended I am sure) sent donations to her family. These donations have been put into a trust fund that will mature in 3 1/2 years when Jessica, now a married mother of a baby boy named Simon, will turn 25. The estimated value of the fund is $1 Million.
Now here is where I take issue with this tale. I am certainly glad that she was rescued. I am glad that she has had the chance to live a full, healthy life. But for crying out loud, where is the reward for those of us who managed to make it through the eighties unscathed. I see this as rewarding her parents for irresponsibility. Now, because they let their little girl wander off (or worse yet, knowingly let her play by a dangerous well), she and her child are set for life. I read the article, and it reports that she has no memory of the event. I wouldn't be surprised if she's a little claustrophobic, but is it worth $1 Million? My humble opinion is no. Seriously, give me a hole to fall into, if I can get a cool million after all is said and done, I'd be happy for the experience.

Milton, Pass the Cake So Everyone Gets a Piece

I don't know of anyone who hasn't seen the movie "Office Space," or who hasn't laughed out loud while watching "The Office" on TV. Though they are both a little over the top, I find myself more and more able to relate to them with the passage of time at my own office.
In particular, I found myself relating to a couple of awkward office birthday parties portrayed on these programs, and I tried and tried to find some youtube clip that shows what I'm talking about, but I couldn't find the proper clip from either. Nonetheless, I have found a funny one that does show an awkward office party. And, since I have a growing affinity for all things Indian, I find it very appropriate that the clip be in an Indian office.

(our singing wasn't much better)

So as you can likely guess, there was an office party last week. Yep, a lady in HR celebrated her 50th birthday. I had no idea she was 50, I would have guess 45 maybe. Anyway, she is the one who is responsible for sending out the congratulatory email I received for my birthday--we won't worry about the fact that it was nearly two weeks late.
Anyway, though I am in the corporate office, there aren't many people there on a given day. We had a good majority of the office there that day and there were about ten folks. So the awkwardness came from the fact that no one really talked much--other than the lady a co-worker and I have dubbed "Granny Panties." I don't know who she is or what she does, all I ever noticed is that she has an interesting sense of style that usually works, but oftentimes has and odd, brightly-colored accent piece that just doesn't, and I don't think I have seen her wear the same thing twice in my six months in this current office. However, said co-worker has had frightening experiences walking into the ladies room. Apparently GP doesn't close the door to the stall. Apparently the co-worker has had the image of her under-apparel seared into her memory. Direct quote: "I don't know how they were so big. She's a small person, but they're so big and white. It's like a canoe." So, I laugh every time that I see her. Having heard her talk, I am thinking she's just a little different.
So after the possibly law-suit-inducing gag gifts that were given by the HR manager (all I am saying is I would be offended if someone gave me a black Over the Hill hat, denture cream and denture adhesive), they cut up the cake and handed it out to everyone. Everyone, that is, except for one woman who was going to "be strong" and not eat any. Her strength lasted all of one minute in which she said "that looks good, ah S#!T, I am so week," grabbed a piece, and ate it up. I ate my cake in silence, and promptly left. I had nothing to add. I hardly know most of these people (If I were at my old office in the company, it would be a different story).
I don't know where I am going with this, but I thought I would share. In my humble opinion, Birthdays are great, working on your birthday is not so great. But if I can get a piece of birthday cake while at work, I'll be cool with whatever.

You Can Never Go Home, But You Must Try

Ah, Home sweet...well, it's where I grew up at least

These are the Mountains that I know, far cooler than the Appalachians

At one point in my life (my teen-age years) I had a card that had some ground rules for Zen. There were something like twelve points of wisdom. The two points that I remember verbatim were "Wherever you go, there you are," and "You can never go home, but you must try." So, in keeping to the advice given by the latter, I went to my hometown last month. "Where is home?" you may ask. I shall tell you, it is Brigham City, Utah (click the link and learn up).
Brigham City is an interesting place. It's a small town. I realize every time that I go back there just how small it is. There are eight stop lights total. We do have a Wal-mart and most of the typical fast-food restaurants that you could think of (that are found in Utah at least). On the subject of food though, they do have Maddox, which has some very tasty rolls, and my favorite turkey steak. There are less than 20,000 people who reside there, and I can't imagine there ever being many more.
I will say that it's a nice place to be from, but I am sure that it's a place that I would ever like to be living again. It's a quaint little town, and there are plenty of strange little quirks that make me not want to live there anymore--mostly because I don't think I want to live in a small town anymore, but I digress.
So that being said, I did go back home for a long weekend. You see, it was Peach Days. I hate Peach Days, but this year, my sister who moved to Colorado was going to be in town. Also, I have a friend who normally goes back home for Peach Days, and I thought she would be going this time too. She didn't (I guess that's what I get for assuming). It was a good trip home. I didn't get to spend much time with friends there, but I got to see my family, and I kinda like them. However, as the title suggests, you really can never go home [and have everything be the same]. With every trip back, I find that I relate less and less with them.
That isn't to say that I think they are weird, or anything. I just don't have a ton in common at this point in my life. I live on the east coast in the very-well-populated DC metropolitan area. Most of them, live in small town Utah. I am the only one in my family who is not married with at least two children. Our experiences are just different that's all. So they all have their own lives, and my life is pretty much out here in Virginia now, I guess that's what I am trying to say. Not that I don't like being with them, cause I do, a lot. It's just that I kinda feel like the odd man out.

So, one of the best parts of being home was being able to see all of my nieces and nephews. Though I hate most kids, I love these ones. They kind of even make me want to have some of my own one day. I didn't get many pictures of grown ups while I was home, so the kids will have to do as an introduction to my family. So here they are:

Kalee and Brady (Family N)

Hunter (N)
Brock (N)

Tanner and Alissa (A)

Marshall (N*)

MaKayla and Max(N*)


Playing before the parade (their parents aren't irresponsible enough to just let them play by the road)

I just have to say that I have the cutest nieces and nephews in the world. Each of them offers something special, and in my humble opinion, they made the trip home a lot of fun.

(*note to my sisters, if I spelled any of the children's names wrong, I apologize. It's not my fault if you chose to spell their names in a funky way that isn't the normal way I would spell them)