Tetanus Sh-aaarrrgggghhhhh!

Sometimes we take things for granted, and we don’t know what we have until they're gone. Take for example, the use of my shoulder.

Recently, I got a tetanus booster shot. At the time, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal, because I didn’t remember it being that bad the last time I’d gotten one. What I failed to recall, unfortunately, was that I was a teenager back then, young and robust, and at a point of my life where I could spend an entire day running into a concrete wall at full speed and suffer no adverse affects. (Not that I spent my time running into walls. At least not that I’ll readily admit.)

So, overwhelmed with male bravado, I decided to get the shot. When the time came, in true macho fashion, I whimpered courageously and stared fearlessly at the wall opposite of where the action was occurring. (Hey, it’s a needle, and it’s going RIGHT INTO YOU!!) The shot itself barely hurt, and when it was over, I wiped my eyes free of the accumulated tears of valor and commenced to celebrate my victory, assuming that the worst was over.

Then, shortly after, my shoulder stopped working. I couldn’t put on my seatbelt without whimpering. I couldn’t raise my arm above my waist without a sustained string of grunting. I couldn’t reach my phone at work. (That one was actually a good thing.) Talk about a wake up call! In fact, because of it, I’ve made a solemn vow to take a moment each and every day to truly appreciate my shoulders. (This will explain if you ever see me kissing them affectionately.)

Anyway, this whole episode brought with it a startling realization: Perhaps I’m not as resilient as I once was. Perhaps my body doesn’t bounce back as quickly as years past. Perhaps the hands of time are beginning to chip away at the very foundation of my strength and health. Still, I’m a much wiser person now, and I’ll take that over being young and dumb any day of the week. Just don't tell that to my aching shoulder. I’m having trouble getting back on its good side as it is.

Mid-Blog Crisis

Sometimes I wonder about my blogging. While fun, is it having any unintended consequences? For example, am I painting a picture of myself that is not wholly accurate? Does my playful and carefree style impact who I am in the eyes of my reader(s)? Am I now seen as nothing more than a provider of short snippets of frivolity? (Yes, that’s actually a word! I checked!) Is the real me, the three-dimensional me, being overshadowed by my blogging persona? Is the virtual Curly slowly taking over, ever so gently pulling the real me out off of the stage of other people’s interpretations, using a hook of shallow jokes and over-exaggerated vocabulary, soon to hide the true depths of my character behind the curtain of obscurity, or some other really bad metaphor?

Perhaps I should attempt to show all of my sides.

Perhaps I should speak more about politics. (“They’re all shameless pandering crooks! Now please don’t raise my taxes!”)

Perhaps I should speak more about my hopes and dream. (“I hope my dreams where I can fly come true!”)

Perhaps I should speak more about fine literature. (“The new Garfield just came out!”)

Perhaps I should speak more about some of the important issues facing us all today. (“When is the NCAA going to do away with the BCS?”)

Hmm.

Hmmmmm.

Hmmmmmmmmm.

(That’s me thinking, by the way.)

Well, I’ve come to a decision, but I’m not going to tell you. You’re just going to have to figure it out for yourself. But it probably won’t be too hard. Here’s a hint:

Giant Slug!!!!!

ATM Bliss

You may not be as impressed as me, as I’m quite easily amused, but when I discovered that my bank now has ATMs that allow you to deposit your checks directly into them, I got pretty excited. As I mentioned in a previous post, I hate interacting with tellers at my bank when cashing or depositing a check, because they’re paid to be overly-cheery, all in a thinly veiled attempt to convince me to open up eight-thousand new accounts, all of with have small service charges. In fact, I used to pool up my checks for many weeks before bringing them in, not because I was lazy, but because I wanted to minimize my teller interaction.

Now, however, the game’s changed with the new ATM deposit functionality. Recently, I dropped by my favorite ATM vestibule with two checks. My hands were shaking so much that I could barely slide my card into the slot, and I had to work hard to control my breathing to keep from hyperventilating with excitement. I managed to choose the check deposit option, stacked my checks, and fed them in. They were immediately sucked up and processed. Within a few seconds, they had been scanned in and displayed up on the screen for me to see, along with a total dollar amount confirmation. I hit ‘OK’, and my deposit was done.

No long lines. No talking about the weather or my weekend plans with an annoying teller while simultaneously convincing myself that strangling them wasn’t my best option. (Satisfying, yes, smart, no.) Needless to say, I was pretty happy, and if I could do heel-clickers, I would have performed one right there in the vestibule. (That’d be some good ATM camera archive footage, by the way.)

As happy as I am, however, I’m not going to let my guard down. In the world of technology, things usually start off user-friendly and easy to use, but are then completely ruined in an attempt to maximize profits. In fact, I fully expect my ATM to soon start cheerily asking me if I’d like to open a new account or get a home loan. (“If you’d like your check card back, please select the home loan with the 150% interest rate.”) Call me a cynic, but I prefer to think of myself as a realist. Still, in the meanwhile, I’ll make sure to enjoy the small window of useful functionality before it is ruined.

So feel free to write me a check. Nothing would make me happier than depositing it.

From Cracker Barrel To Peak 6

One fun thing to do on road trips is randomly fall in love. The first time this ever happened to me was at a Crackle Barrel somewhere in Kentucky. It was one of the hostesses who cast her spell over me. She was an incredibly enthusiastic person who took it upon herself to decide for my buddy Jarves and me what we should order, since we were overwhelmed with the numerous options, all of which looked good. We chatted with her for quite a while, mainly about food and Nashville, before we were seated, and she continued to check in with us throughout the meal just to make sure we were enjoying ourselves. We then hung around afterwards and talked to her some more, because being in love makes you do things like that. (Jarves was in love, too.) We finally left after buying some jelly beans. We soon deemed her the Cracker Barrel Girl, and we even vowed to write a song, appropriately titled Cracker Barrel Girl. Alas, we never did write that song, but it’s not because we weren’t in love with her.

All had been quiet on the Falling In Love On A Road Trip front until my recent trip to Washington. My buddy Lurch and I stopped at a Peak 6 Adventure Store in Olympic National Park and found ourselves face to face with a beautiful surfer girl who was running the place. After talking to her for about a half of a second, I had fallen madly in love. Lurch, seeing this, wandered off to let me work my magic, by which I mean he hoped I would eventually make a gigantic fool of myself. Anyway, not only was the surfer girl beautiful, she was also funny, sarcastic, and incredibly good natured. Also, if I hadn’t made this clear already, she was beautiful. There was nobody else in the store, and she seemed quite happy to chat, probably because she was awesome and beautiful, so we discussed Olympic National Park for quite a long while before I even began to look around the store. My only misstep was when she asked me if we had seen any wildlife, to which I proudly responded, “We saw a giant slug!” While it was true, it wasn’t one of my better lines.

The Giant Slug

I finally tore myself away from her long enough to purchase several items. (Even if I didn’t find anything I liked, I would have bought something just for an excuse to talk to her again, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.) Either being in love with me, or more likely just a good salesperson, she complimented me on my choices, to which I most likely grinned stupidly and babbled incoherently. (By this point my last few vestiges of suaveness had worn off.) Then we chatted some more. This time we talked about how Bigfoot was misunderstood, and how he was probably was a pretty cool guy who just didn’t like publicity.

However, all good things must come to an end, and soon an annoying lady showed up at the store, barged in, and started to tell us all, without provocation, about how she collected rocks or something. It pretty much broke the entire spell, and Lurch and I were soon forced to leave.

So now I’m in love, even though I know I’ll probably never see her again and that her seeming willingness to talk for hours was just because she was a genuinely nice person. (Sounds like I should write a song!) However, I’m a firm believer in fate, so if it’s written in the stars, someday I’ll run into her again. Perhaps she’ll even read this blog. (Hey! You’re beautiful! We saw a giant slug!) But even if that doesn’t happen, it was still worth it, because falling in love randomly on a road trip is always a rewarding experience. I just hope the Cracker Barrel Girl doesn’t find out.