Unfortunately, my finger healed.
While this may seem like a good thing, it does have a downside. To explain without trying to be graphic, I cut my finger playing basketball earlier this week, with the cause being somebody else’s untrimmed fingernail. It turned out to be one of those little cuts that bleeds like crazy. Now, being one of those people who does not like seeing any portion of myself leaking out, I had to apply a bandage.
This was when I remembered that the last time I needed bandages, I had picked up a box of them with the Peanuts brand. This now made me quite happy, as I had a chance to wear them again.
So my week was generally happy after that. If I ever needed a chuckle at work, I could just look down at my finger and see what Charlie Brown and the gang were up to. For example, Charlie Brown would be missing kicking the football because Lucy pulled it away from him at the last minute, again, or Snoopy would be hanging out on his doghouse. It was good fun, and it helped to balance against the stifling professional atmosphere that can be the workplace.
But now my cut has pretty much healed and I don’t need the help of the Peanuts gang anymore. It’s kind of a letdown, to be honest. I was growing fond of them, plus it was nice to flaunt a little bit of immaturity, even for just a little while.
Oh well. I guess I can always hope for a paper cut.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
A Tired Moment Captured
My friend Lurch and I were at Acadia National Park, in Maine. It was our last day staying there, so we decided to make the most of it. We got up fairly early and got right to exploring. I won’t go through our itinerary, but I will just say that I have probably never hiked as far in my entire life. We even went up a “non-technical climbing route”, which basically means we climbed a mountain by following something that sort of resembled a trail.
When we had finished, we were both completely exhausted and it was nearing the end of the afternoon. We drove back to our campground, eagerly anticipating dinner. We pulled into camp and I turned off the car. We then sat there for a moment, simply relishing the feeling of our day’s work being complete.
However, as we quickly found out, we both were left with absolutely no motivation. We looked out of the windshield at the picnic table, but it just as well could have been miles away. Getting out of the car, gathering our food, and cooking was just too momentous of a task, even though we were both very hungry. It was as if the Sahara was between the car and the picnic table.
So we sat there for an entire hour, doing absolutely nothing. At one point we did summon the energy to reach into the back seat and retrieve a Blueberry Soda for each of us. As we relaxed, enjoying our beverages, I snapped this picture. I really like it, and I think knowing the context of when it was taken helps to put it into a better perspective.
When we had finished, we were both completely exhausted and it was nearing the end of the afternoon. We drove back to our campground, eagerly anticipating dinner. We pulled into camp and I turned off the car. We then sat there for a moment, simply relishing the feeling of our day’s work being complete.
However, as we quickly found out, we both were left with absolutely no motivation. We looked out of the windshield at the picnic table, but it just as well could have been miles away. Getting out of the car, gathering our food, and cooking was just too momentous of a task, even though we were both very hungry. It was as if the Sahara was between the car and the picnic table.
So we sat there for an entire hour, doing absolutely nothing. At one point we did summon the energy to reach into the back seat and retrieve a Blueberry Soda for each of us. As we relaxed, enjoying our beverages, I snapped this picture. I really like it, and I think knowing the context of when it was taken helps to put it into a better perspective.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Vacation Strategy
I have a vacation coming up, and that has got me to thinking about how my vacations vary from the stereotypical vacation.
In a stereotypical vacation you lie on the beach all day at a swank resort, sipping various concoctions which all have umbrellas in them. Other than that, you may do a little bit of sightseeing, but mostly it’s all about the lying on the beach.
My vacation is going to be with my friend Lurch, and our vacations, in contrast, are defined by the following key criteria.
• Very little advance planning is done. We basically know the state or states we’re going to be visiting, and that is all. A few points of interest may be picked out ahead of time, but that is only if one of us was extremely bored, and there is no guarantee that they will actually be visited.
• We don’t have any plans as to where we’re going to stay each night. Typically, we randomly find a camp site sometime during the day. (However, if we’ve camped for about a week straight, we sometimes get a hotel, because at that point we’re both emanating visible smell rays, like in the cartoons.)
• Each day we look at a map or read a guidebook to help us find some new place to explore. To us, exploring typically means hiking, and hiking typically means climbing hills or mountains so that we can see how everything looks from the top. There’s something about hiking for two hours uphill just so we can look around for two minutes before heading back down that appeals to us. For example, on our last vacation, on our first day in Vermont, the first thing we did was climb to the highest point in Vermont, where we stayed for about five minutes. We figured, why mess around with anything less than the highest point in Vermont? So, essentially we spend our vacations climbing up and down mountains, and by the end we can virtually speed walk up any mountain that’s put before us.
• After a hard day of exploring we return to our campsite and cook up dinner. This is always fun. This is because grocery shopping is one of the highlights of the trip, as we randomly push a cart through a foreign grocery store and pick things off the shelf that look good, even if it isn’t considered camp food. On my last vacation we made tacos, which turned out excellent. (The steak 'n' tater sandwiches, however, weren't as good as we had hoped. But still, it was worth a try!)
• After dinner we accomplish nothing but playing cards and maybe tossing around a football. I’ve brought books, but normally they don’t get read.
• During our drives to and from various places, it’s customary to stop at random basketball courts for a quick game of H-O-R-S-E. It’s a good way to break up a five hour drive, especially if we’re starting to get snippy with one another, as we have very little overlap in terms of musical tastes.
• Before we know it, the vacation is over. We’re tired, stinky, and our calves have become way bigger and stronger than they were when we started. I typically have taken about four thousand pictures, and Lurch has taken approximately three, all of which he will never look at again.
What a great system! I urge you to employ is someday, but if you do, remember one key rule: bring lots of deodorant.
In a stereotypical vacation you lie on the beach all day at a swank resort, sipping various concoctions which all have umbrellas in them. Other than that, you may do a little bit of sightseeing, but mostly it’s all about the lying on the beach.
My vacation is going to be with my friend Lurch, and our vacations, in contrast, are defined by the following key criteria.
• Very little advance planning is done. We basically know the state or states we’re going to be visiting, and that is all. A few points of interest may be picked out ahead of time, but that is only if one of us was extremely bored, and there is no guarantee that they will actually be visited.
• We don’t have any plans as to where we’re going to stay each night. Typically, we randomly find a camp site sometime during the day. (However, if we’ve camped for about a week straight, we sometimes get a hotel, because at that point we’re both emanating visible smell rays, like in the cartoons.)
• Each day we look at a map or read a guidebook to help us find some new place to explore. To us, exploring typically means hiking, and hiking typically means climbing hills or mountains so that we can see how everything looks from the top. There’s something about hiking for two hours uphill just so we can look around for two minutes before heading back down that appeals to us. For example, on our last vacation, on our first day in Vermont, the first thing we did was climb to the highest point in Vermont, where we stayed for about five minutes. We figured, why mess around with anything less than the highest point in Vermont? So, essentially we spend our vacations climbing up and down mountains, and by the end we can virtually speed walk up any mountain that’s put before us.
• After a hard day of exploring we return to our campsite and cook up dinner. This is always fun. This is because grocery shopping is one of the highlights of the trip, as we randomly push a cart through a foreign grocery store and pick things off the shelf that look good, even if it isn’t considered camp food. On my last vacation we made tacos, which turned out excellent. (The steak 'n' tater sandwiches, however, weren't as good as we had hoped. But still, it was worth a try!)
• After dinner we accomplish nothing but playing cards and maybe tossing around a football. I’ve brought books, but normally they don’t get read.
• During our drives to and from various places, it’s customary to stop at random basketball courts for a quick game of H-O-R-S-E. It’s a good way to break up a five hour drive, especially if we’re starting to get snippy with one another, as we have very little overlap in terms of musical tastes.
• Before we know it, the vacation is over. We’re tired, stinky, and our calves have become way bigger and stronger than they were when we started. I typically have taken about four thousand pictures, and Lurch has taken approximately three, all of which he will never look at again.
What a great system! I urge you to employ is someday, but if you do, remember one key rule: bring lots of deodorant.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
A Snow Lesson
This last weekend I was at my parent’s house, where I came face to face with a memento of one of the greatest failures of my life. It was a cheap, blue snow shovel, and when I saw it, I hung my head in shame.
It’s easiest to start at the beginning. I was an intern working in the Twin Cities during my junior year of college. It was late in the year, sometime in November or December. The forecast called for snow, the first storm of the year. I don’t remember how much snow was to come, but it would be a decent amount for the area, but nothing a native Yooper like me would be afraid of. In fact, I found myself chuckling as the city began to buckle down for what I considered to be a small amount of snow. What’s the big deal? I laughed to myself. It’s just a little bit of snow!
I didn’t have to worry. All Yoopers keep a shovel in the trunk of their car year round, so you were always prepared to dig your way out of any situation. No problem! You won’t catch me freaking out with everybody else! To say I was smug would have been an understatement.
I don’t remember the exact sequence of events, but I do remember a lot of snow starting to come and me opening up the trunk of my car and seeing that I hadn’t brought my shovel with me after all. It was sitting in my parent’s garage up in Michigan, doing me absolutely no good.
So I stopped at Target on my way home from work, along with a whole passel of other people. As soon as I walked through the door there were rows of cheap, blue shovels all lined up for people to buy in a panic. They should have put up a sign that said, “Hey morons who aren’t prepared! Pay out of your nose for shovels here!” And so I did. I stood in line with everybody else to spend way too much money on a pathetic, cheap shovel. It was not fun. I had let down Yoopers everywhere, as I was unprepared for snow, and I was ashamed.
I kept that blue shovel for quite some time, but after a while I got sick of the memories it triggered and so I donated it to my father. He still has it, and that is what I saw this weekend. Ugh. All I can hope for, I guess, is that I learned a lesson.
That reminds me. I probably should check my trunk.
It’s easiest to start at the beginning. I was an intern working in the Twin Cities during my junior year of college. It was late in the year, sometime in November or December. The forecast called for snow, the first storm of the year. I don’t remember how much snow was to come, but it would be a decent amount for the area, but nothing a native Yooper like me would be afraid of. In fact, I found myself chuckling as the city began to buckle down for what I considered to be a small amount of snow. What’s the big deal? I laughed to myself. It’s just a little bit of snow!
I didn’t have to worry. All Yoopers keep a shovel in the trunk of their car year round, so you were always prepared to dig your way out of any situation. No problem! You won’t catch me freaking out with everybody else! To say I was smug would have been an understatement.
I don’t remember the exact sequence of events, but I do remember a lot of snow starting to come and me opening up the trunk of my car and seeing that I hadn’t brought my shovel with me after all. It was sitting in my parent’s garage up in Michigan, doing me absolutely no good.
So I stopped at Target on my way home from work, along with a whole passel of other people. As soon as I walked through the door there were rows of cheap, blue shovels all lined up for people to buy in a panic. They should have put up a sign that said, “Hey morons who aren’t prepared! Pay out of your nose for shovels here!” And so I did. I stood in line with everybody else to spend way too much money on a pathetic, cheap shovel. It was not fun. I had let down Yoopers everywhere, as I was unprepared for snow, and I was ashamed.
I kept that blue shovel for quite some time, but after a while I got sick of the memories it triggered and so I donated it to my father. He still has it, and that is what I saw this weekend. Ugh. All I can hope for, I guess, is that I learned a lesson.
That reminds me. I probably should check my trunk.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Thirty About Thirty
Today I am thirty years old.
This is a monumental time in a person’s life, and, as far as I can tell, I can handle it in one of two ways; I can either go into a full-fledged panic where I blow it completely out of proportion and freak out, thinking that my very life is slipping away before my eyes, or I can treat it in a dignified manner in which I calmly reflect on the many valuable experiences I've had and how I can use them to help me carve out a productive and enjoyable future.
Obviously, I will be going with the full-fledged panic option, as it’s a time-tested tradition. However, during a small window of dignified reflection that I recently had between anxiety attacks, I did manage to create a list of thirty positive factoids to me being thirty years old, which I will present to you now.
Note: While you are reading these, please be warned that they were written before I turned thirty. Now that I am thirty, I will most likely have forgotten them and will be entering into a pre-mid-life crisis of some sort, where I will attempt to purchase something like a new speedboat, while also trying to get into shape so I can walk on as a kicker for an NFL team.
30) I can still lace ‘em up and run myself ragged in a good game of pickup basketball. Sure, I may have to stretch for an absurd amount of time beforehand to prevent catastrophic injury, but I guess in the big picture it’s a fair trade-off.
29) I can remember buying music cassettes, which now makes me appreciate iTunes a whole lot more than those who have only experienced the digital era.
28) I’ve been able to watch It’s A Wonderful Life an impressive amount of times.
27) Sports no longer rules my life. I’ve grown beyond living and dying with the fortunes of a group of millionaires who do not even know that I exist.
26) I have been alive long enough to remember The Dukes of Hazzard. Also, MacGyver.
25) I’ve gotten so many song lyrics stuck in my head over time that they have pushed out other, unimportant, bits of information that I’ll never need anyway, such as my social security number. However, I now can sing the chorus of Baby’s Got Her Blue Jeans On at the drop of a hat.
24) I no longer worry about trying to keep up with the latest trends in order to look ‘cool’. I’ve long since given up on that, which keeps my stress level down. Basically, as long as I’m not on fire, I’m good to go.
23) I can now listen to My Next Thirty Years and relate to it.
22) My mommy will still cook for me if I ask her nicely enough.
21) I’ve heard that thirty is the new twenty, so party on!
20) Sometimes people will call me ‘sir’. Granted, I always look over my shoulder to see who they’re talking to, but it’s still pretty cool.
19) I probably won’t be carded if I ever decide to buy that first pack of cigarettes.
18) I was able to play games growing up on a Commodore 64 computer. It was awesome.
17) I no longer think a movie is good solely because it contains big explosions. In fact, I’d like to think I’ve become somewhat sophisticated in terms of my movie watching tastes. Yet, I still believe that The Naked Gun is hilarious.
16) I’m not sixty.
15) I’ve received way more Christmas presents in my lifetime than some snotty sixteen-year old ever has.
14) I still derive immense pleasure from driving my car through big puddles.
13) Speaking of my car, it is not some $200 heap that is held together almost entirely by rust. (That’s one plus in the ‘having a job’ category.)
12) I’ve grown to the point where I can make adult, responsible decisions on my own, such as when I decide not to eat something because it looks really yucky.
11) I sort of remember when the Lions were sort of good.
10) I believe I am now old enough to wander around and yell randomly at teenagers who are wearing their hats sideways, while also occasionally muttering things like, “Youth is wasted on the young!”
09) I’ve almost blocked out all of my memories of being a janitor in college.
08) I have more than enough free time to compile long lists of things to publish on my blog, since I no longer have to worry about young person things such as studying or gelling my hair.
07) I got to listen to Ernie Harwell while growing up. Also, Paul Carey.
06) I feel I’ve earned the right to now say, “Back when I was a kid…” and then launch into a long, rambling story that makes no sense and in no way pertains to the current topic being discussed.
05) I may be old, but I'm not so old that I can predict the weather based solely on how my bones are aching due to the atmospheric conditions.
04) I can now have mature, adult conversations that delve deeper than anything I would ever have talked about when I was twenty. Yet, I have no issue reverting back to discussions that are purely nonsensical, such as who would win in a fight: Fred Flintstone or Barney Rubble?
03) I now have accumulated a good number of nieces and nephews, and they will always keep me young at heart.
02) I’ve been alive long enough to know who my true friends are.
01) I’ve realized that the older I get, the more I remind myself of my dad, and in the end that’s more than I could ever hope for.
This is a monumental time in a person’s life, and, as far as I can tell, I can handle it in one of two ways; I can either go into a full-fledged panic where I blow it completely out of proportion and freak out, thinking that my very life is slipping away before my eyes, or I can treat it in a dignified manner in which I calmly reflect on the many valuable experiences I've had and how I can use them to help me carve out a productive and enjoyable future.
Obviously, I will be going with the full-fledged panic option, as it’s a time-tested tradition. However, during a small window of dignified reflection that I recently had between anxiety attacks, I did manage to create a list of thirty positive factoids to me being thirty years old, which I will present to you now.
Note: While you are reading these, please be warned that they were written before I turned thirty. Now that I am thirty, I will most likely have forgotten them and will be entering into a pre-mid-life crisis of some sort, where I will attempt to purchase something like a new speedboat, while also trying to get into shape so I can walk on as a kicker for an NFL team.
Thirty Good Things About Being Thirty
30) I can still lace ‘em up and run myself ragged in a good game of pickup basketball. Sure, I may have to stretch for an absurd amount of time beforehand to prevent catastrophic injury, but I guess in the big picture it’s a fair trade-off.
29) I can remember buying music cassettes, which now makes me appreciate iTunes a whole lot more than those who have only experienced the digital era.
28) I’ve been able to watch It’s A Wonderful Life an impressive amount of times.
27) Sports no longer rules my life. I’ve grown beyond living and dying with the fortunes of a group of millionaires who do not even know that I exist.
26) I have been alive long enough to remember The Dukes of Hazzard. Also, MacGyver.
25) I’ve gotten so many song lyrics stuck in my head over time that they have pushed out other, unimportant, bits of information that I’ll never need anyway, such as my social security number. However, I now can sing the chorus of Baby’s Got Her Blue Jeans On at the drop of a hat.
24) I no longer worry about trying to keep up with the latest trends in order to look ‘cool’. I’ve long since given up on that, which keeps my stress level down. Basically, as long as I’m not on fire, I’m good to go.
23) I can now listen to My Next Thirty Years and relate to it.
22) My mommy will still cook for me if I ask her nicely enough.
21) I’ve heard that thirty is the new twenty, so party on!
20) Sometimes people will call me ‘sir’. Granted, I always look over my shoulder to see who they’re talking to, but it’s still pretty cool.
19) I probably won’t be carded if I ever decide to buy that first pack of cigarettes.
18) I was able to play games growing up on a Commodore 64 computer. It was awesome.
17) I no longer think a movie is good solely because it contains big explosions. In fact, I’d like to think I’ve become somewhat sophisticated in terms of my movie watching tastes. Yet, I still believe that The Naked Gun is hilarious.
16) I’m not sixty.
15) I’ve received way more Christmas presents in my lifetime than some snotty sixteen-year old ever has.
14) I still derive immense pleasure from driving my car through big puddles.
13) Speaking of my car, it is not some $200 heap that is held together almost entirely by rust. (That’s one plus in the ‘having a job’ category.)
12) I’ve grown to the point where I can make adult, responsible decisions on my own, such as when I decide not to eat something because it looks really yucky.
11) I sort of remember when the Lions were sort of good.
10) I believe I am now old enough to wander around and yell randomly at teenagers who are wearing their hats sideways, while also occasionally muttering things like, “Youth is wasted on the young!”
09) I’ve almost blocked out all of my memories of being a janitor in college.
08) I have more than enough free time to compile long lists of things to publish on my blog, since I no longer have to worry about young person things such as studying or gelling my hair.
07) I got to listen to Ernie Harwell while growing up. Also, Paul Carey.
06) I feel I’ve earned the right to now say, “Back when I was a kid…” and then launch into a long, rambling story that makes no sense and in no way pertains to the current topic being discussed.
05) I may be old, but I'm not so old that I can predict the weather based solely on how my bones are aching due to the atmospheric conditions.
04) I can now have mature, adult conversations that delve deeper than anything I would ever have talked about when I was twenty. Yet, I have no issue reverting back to discussions that are purely nonsensical, such as who would win in a fight: Fred Flintstone or Barney Rubble?
03) I now have accumulated a good number of nieces and nephews, and they will always keep me young at heart.
02) I’ve been alive long enough to know who my true friends are.
01) I’ve realized that the older I get, the more I remind myself of my dad, and in the end that’s more than I could ever hope for.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
A Lowly Highlight
Ugh. It’s been one of those weeks.
For example, the most exciting part was when I learned how to tune my stored procedure SQL, which is running on a database without referential integrity, which means that the typical foreign key indexing isn’t in place, which was in turn killing the performance of my joins, and when I was finished it ran exponentially faster than before. (It’s messy, but it’s fast!)
I’m not proud of the above paragraph, but I won’t lie about the highlight of my week so far, either. (Perhaps the better option would have been to not even bring it up in the first place, but then I’d have nothing to write about, and we can’t have that, can we?)
This should come as no surprise, though, as I've spent the last month in Wisconsin, which has put me teetering on the edge of depressing country songs not even being enough to cheer me up.
Fear not, though, as the time has come to make a banana and split, all in the name of fun! So come on Minnesota! You can be more of a highlight than tuning SQL, right?
Please?
For example, the most exciting part was when I learned how to tune my stored procedure SQL, which is running on a database without referential integrity, which means that the typical foreign key indexing isn’t in place, which was in turn killing the performance of my joins, and when I was finished it ran exponentially faster than before. (It’s messy, but it’s fast!)
I’m not proud of the above paragraph, but I won’t lie about the highlight of my week so far, either. (Perhaps the better option would have been to not even bring it up in the first place, but then I’d have nothing to write about, and we can’t have that, can we?)
This should come as no surprise, though, as I've spent the last month in Wisconsin, which has put me teetering on the edge of depressing country songs not even being enough to cheer me up.
Fear not, though, as the time has come to make a banana and split, all in the name of fun! So come on Minnesota! You can be more of a highlight than tuning SQL, right?
Please?
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