My mom and little bro are both on vacation in New Jersey at the moment and I am staying at her house watching my pooch. Mom has gone back to Jersey for her 35th high school reunion. While my little bro is there to visit his girlfriend during her birthday and meet her family.
I'm jealous they get to go back. I haven't been back since '03 when we lived there for a comically short, month and a half.
I was born in Connecticut. Lived in North Carolina, Maryland, New Hampshire, Florida, New Jersey (2), and Indiana (2).
But I always identify Jersey as my home.
I always wonder who I'd be if we hadn't move from there. I certainly wouldn't be the man I am today. I like to think my general sensibilities would still exist somewhere in me, but the details would most certainly be different.
One thing I know, if we didn't leave there, I wouldn't be sitting on the couch with my hairy best friend.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Note to Self #3
You need to not kick drywall like it's a soccer ball. All you're going to end up with, shockingly, is a hole in the wall.
"All at Once" - The Fray
"All at Once" - The Fray
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Hrrrmmm...
Every once in a while I find myself wondering how it is I became such good friends with the people I'm close to. I'll look over the course of the friendship and think about how it is I came to be close to them. Obviously I'm weird for doing this, but I'm the kind of person that likes to figure things out.
I know. I have problems.
All I'm really getting at is this, it is funny how things work out and how you get close to others and lose touch with people you were close to. I just think it's bizarre how it is you end up with the people you end up with (you might want to read that sentence again. It confused me when I wrote it).
- In other news -
I started playing soccer again this week. I decided I needed to change up my workouts and playing soccer pretty much works all these muscles you never even realize are there. I still have the wicked bend on my shots (believe it or not I used to be a pretty damn good soccer player).
I came across this website, called Klout.com, which you link to your Twitter, Facebook, Foursquare, and LinkedIn accounts. It gives you a numerical score from 1 to 100 (how much clout you have. Clout, get it?) and even determines what style of user you are based on how you use your accounts. I think it's pretty interesting; almost makes it into a game where you can compete with your friends to see who has more "klout."
"Fort Knox" - Goldfish
I know. I have problems.
All I'm really getting at is this, it is funny how things work out and how you get close to others and lose touch with people you were close to. I just think it's bizarre how it is you end up with the people you end up with (you might want to read that sentence again. It confused me when I wrote it).
- In other news -
I started playing soccer again this week. I decided I needed to change up my workouts and playing soccer pretty much works all these muscles you never even realize are there. I still have the wicked bend on my shots (believe it or not I used to be a pretty damn good soccer player).
I came across this website, called Klout.com, which you link to your Twitter, Facebook, Foursquare, and LinkedIn accounts. It gives you a numerical score from 1 to 100 (how much clout you have. Clout, get it?) and even determines what style of user you are based on how you use your accounts. I think it's pretty interesting; almost makes it into a game where you can compete with your friends to see who has more "klout."
"Fort Knox" - Goldfish
Monday, July 4, 2011
Nerd Alert!
My brother and I are colossal nerds.
While I was home this past weekend, my little brother was packing shit up and searching for some things of his to take to his new apartment. As he was looking through boxes in the basement he found these pieces to an old collectible miniatures game we used to play, called Mage Knight.
We started playing it back in 2001 when my brother got a package of them at this little hobby shop in the mall near our grandparents house. Eventually I got some of my own. Then some of the kids we hung out with down there got into it too. Back home, we'd play it with friends of ours; staying up 'til the crack of dawn playing.
Well, dammit, we wanted to play some Mage Knight again.
It's similar to a role-playing card game, but there are no cards. All the information you need for each piece (including a point value) is on a dial that each character you play with stands on. You then build an army, add up all the point values of the pieces, and make sure that the total is under a certain point total.
The problem is we couldn't find my pieces. We even found the map we created to play on. So I searched and searched, but I couldn't find them. My mom even got in on the search. It was hilarious.
It became one of those searches where we had to find the damn things because it was so annoying we hadn't. The stupidest thing was that I had packed my little bro's boxes and they were far less organized than mine (which I packed too). So the likelihood that we'd have found his first was much lower.
Anyway, we found them eventually. In a box I had looked at like three times and determined each time was not a box of my things. Such is life sometimes.
So we got around to playing yesterday. It was just as much fun as I remember it. We had a good laugh at the fact that we were sitting on the carpet, playing a game we hadn't touched in years, and had started playing 10 years ago (actually it was just around this time too). My mom, especially, thought this was hilarious.
"Spaz" - N.E.R.D.
While I was home this past weekend, my little brother was packing shit up and searching for some things of his to take to his new apartment. As he was looking through boxes in the basement he found these pieces to an old collectible miniatures game we used to play, called Mage Knight.
We started playing it back in 2001 when my brother got a package of them at this little hobby shop in the mall near our grandparents house. Eventually I got some of my own. Then some of the kids we hung out with down there got into it too. Back home, we'd play it with friends of ours; staying up 'til the crack of dawn playing.
Well, dammit, we wanted to play some Mage Knight again.
It's similar to a role-playing card game, but there are no cards. All the information you need for each piece (including a point value) is on a dial that each character you play with stands on. You then build an army, add up all the point values of the pieces, and make sure that the total is under a certain point total.
The problem is we couldn't find my pieces. We even found the map we created to play on. So I searched and searched, but I couldn't find them. My mom even got in on the search. It was hilarious.
It became one of those searches where we had to find the damn things because it was so annoying we hadn't. The stupidest thing was that I had packed my little bro's boxes and they were far less organized than mine (which I packed too). So the likelihood that we'd have found his first was much lower.
Anyway, we found them eventually. In a box I had looked at like three times and determined each time was not a box of my things. Such is life sometimes.
So we got around to playing yesterday. It was just as much fun as I remember it. We had a good laugh at the fact that we were sitting on the carpet, playing a game we hadn't touched in years, and had started playing 10 years ago (actually it was just around this time too). My mom, especially, thought this was hilarious.
"Spaz" - N.E.R.D.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Vagabond
I do not have a home in the traditional sense of the word.
My mom and little bro both have lives they are living. I assume they like it when I am home. I know my mom does, but, realistically speaking, I am just a person that shows up for a couple of days, every few weeks. I'll bitch about how they have nothing to eat or drink, watch whatever shows my mom wants to watch on her DVR, do laundry (fold my mom's, if she has any), vacuum, go visit my grandma, and sleep on the couch.
I'm basically a vagabond.
A spectre that drifts into their lives intermittently. An image that's occasionally in focus.
I could go on with the metaphors all day.
As I think about it, the only reason I truly 'want' to come home is to see my dog. I adore the ever-loving shit out of that animal. He just turned twelve and that's on the good side of the bell curve for Labrador life-expectancy. He's getting really gray now; in the pads of his feet, on his belly a little, and even his eyebrows. More often than not, however, he still has that quizzical, puppy look on his face and that makes me happy.
In fact, no one is home right now and he is laying next to me on the couch, on his back, feet up in the air.
- In other news -
I really hope I am able to line up a job (read: career) soon. I found a couple of jobs I'm perfectly qualified for. So after a little more work on my portfolio, I'll apply to them. I would rather not be in Bloomington past this summer, but I can think of nowhere better to be should things not work out exactly as I intend.
I think they will though.
Remember: I'm an optimist now. Muaaahahahaha.
Also, June was a fairly good month in the blogging department. Nine blogs in total. That's around a blog every three days. I'm putting that kind of consistency in the win column... or at least the non-failure column.
"Vagabond" - Greenskeepers
My mom and little bro both have lives they are living. I assume they like it when I am home. I know my mom does, but, realistically speaking, I am just a person that shows up for a couple of days, every few weeks. I'll bitch about how they have nothing to eat or drink, watch whatever shows my mom wants to watch on her DVR, do laundry (fold my mom's, if she has any), vacuum, go visit my grandma, and sleep on the couch.
I'm basically a vagabond.
A spectre that drifts into their lives intermittently. An image that's occasionally in focus.
I could go on with the metaphors all day.
As I think about it, the only reason I truly 'want' to come home is to see my dog. I adore the ever-loving shit out of that animal. He just turned twelve and that's on the good side of the bell curve for Labrador life-expectancy. He's getting really gray now; in the pads of his feet, on his belly a little, and even his eyebrows. More often than not, however, he still has that quizzical, puppy look on his face and that makes me happy.
In fact, no one is home right now and he is laying next to me on the couch, on his back, feet up in the air.
- In other news -
I really hope I am able to line up a job (read: career) soon. I found a couple of jobs I'm perfectly qualified for. So after a little more work on my portfolio, I'll apply to them. I would rather not be in Bloomington past this summer, but I can think of nowhere better to be should things not work out exactly as I intend.
I think they will though.
Remember: I'm an optimist now. Muaaahahahaha.
Also, June was a fairly good month in the blogging department. Nine blogs in total. That's around a blog every three days. I'm putting that kind of consistency in the win column... or at least the non-failure column.
"Vagabond" - Greenskeepers
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