A sad realization that I've recently had is that no woman will ever love me as much as one of my cats does. Granted, this cat loves me an insane amount. When I go to visit my mom (which is where this cat lives), this cat is the happiest animal alive. It is because of this, though, that I've decided to become a crazy cat lady.* Cats are just such loving creatures. "Joe, if you want a pet that will love you, you should get a dog," is what you may or not may not be thinking. Well, dear reader, let me tell you something. I have a dog and, while she doesn't hate me, she only loves me when nobody is home. Sometimes. Actually, most times when nobody else is home, she just lays on the couch, all depressed and lethargic. I feel like she does that because it's either that or hang out with me. When I realize she's moping because I'm the only one available, I say, "Wow, Lucy - that's a great impression of...most people I know." Then she lets out a huge sigh and I say, "Okay, now it's just uncanny!"
There are 4 cats that my family owns, 1 at my dad's house (along with the dog that loves me when it's convenient for her) and 3 at my mom's. Out of these 4 cats, 3 of them love me and the other has a mental disability. I'm not just saying that because she doesn't love me. Her preferred toy is a nail (or a pin, or a needle. Really, anything that is sharp and shiny), she forgets who people are, meows constantly for no reason, is afraid of everything, and doesn't realize that she enjoys being petted. If she could remember me, I'm sure she'd love me, though. Because I am a cat person. Not just a cat person, though - I am a crazy cat lady.
*I feel like, in order to be a crazy cat lady, you need to have a minimum of 5 cats in your house at all times. That means having at least 5 cats, but they have to be all indoor cats. If you have like 8 cats, but they're outside cats (or even outside/inside cats) then you might not be a crazy cat lady, because you probably won't have 5 inside at all times. Yes, I have put way too much thought into this, but only because it is my future, and I want to do it right. My new year's resolution is to become closer to crazy cat lady status. I'm starting out strong by spending New Year's Eve with 3 cats. I'm 60% crazy cat lady. Yes, the future is bright.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Friday, December 13, 2013
Ajar/A Jar
A few nights ago, it was really cold. That is to be expected, since it's December, and I'm in South Dakota, which, contrary to what the name suggests, is very much in the Northern part of the country. It's kind of ironic, if you don't think about it. Anyway, I have no qualms with the cold until it messes stuff up. The stuff it messed up, I think, is the rear driver's side door on Maxwell (Maxwell is my car, for those of you just joining us). I'm not sure if the cold is the problem, but the problem just started happening when it got cold. So, there's a direct correlation between the temperature being cold and Maxwell's door acting up. Though, it's important to remember that correlation does not equal causation (see the "decrease in pirates caused global warming" graph). The problem is that the door won't shut. Or it won't latch. I'm not 100% sure on what the problem is, but I am 100% sure that it's a problem. This is the door I use to put pizzas into my car when I deliver them, but if it's not going to shut, I'm not going to use that door, which is unfortunate, because that is the most convenient door to use. So, here's what happened:
I was just about to go out on a delivery. I had the pizzas, I signed out, and I left the store. I went up to Maxwell, opened his door, put the pizzas in, and shut the door. Except it didn't shut. It was open just a tiny bit. I thought maybe the seat belt was stuck in the door, since that happens with the driver's (or "my") door. But that wasn't the case. I looked all over the door and the...doorway? Is it called a doorway on a car? It would make sense, but is that what it's called? Anyway, the answer was not there, either. It wasn't a huge deal, though. It wasn't going to fly open, but it was going to let cold air in. Also I wasn't really sure it wasn't going to fly open, so this was actually pretty nerve-racking for me. I decided to shut it as best as I could and then lock it. It made sense to me that locking it would keep it shut, even if it wasn't actually shut. This works for a few deliveries: I use the rear passenger door instead and do nothing with the broken one. But then, after delivering a pizza, I went back to my car and the door was ajar!* "Oh, man," I thought, disheartened. "Maxwell, you're broken." Defeated, I shut the door one last time. And it actually shut. I had fixed Maxwell! I didn't use that door for the rest of the night, but I have since then and it is definitely fixed! "I am a mechanic!" I proudly exclaimed, and then was embarrassed that I had proudly exclaimed that.
*I never miss an opportunity to teach, and this is one of those opportunities. Notice how the word "ajar" is just that - one word. This is different from "a jar" which means...well, it means a jar. "Ajar" means slightly open, which is what my door was. My door was not a jar. That would've completely thrown me off and I don't think I'd have been able to fix Maxwell. Likewise, the word "apart" is very different from "a part." In fact, those two are actually opposites. If you were "apart" of something, you weren't involved in it. At all. And actually you would have been apart from that something. Now, if you were "a part" of something, you were a part...of it... It's really not that difficult. I get furious every time I see something like, "What a great group of people. I'm so glad I could be apart of it!" on Facebook. It's actually more infuriating than the comment that says, "Me to!" and the other one that says, "Aww, I wish I was their!"
I was just about to go out on a delivery. I had the pizzas, I signed out, and I left the store. I went up to Maxwell, opened his door, put the pizzas in, and shut the door. Except it didn't shut. It was open just a tiny bit. I thought maybe the seat belt was stuck in the door, since that happens with the driver's (or "my") door. But that wasn't the case. I looked all over the door and the...doorway? Is it called a doorway on a car? It would make sense, but is that what it's called? Anyway, the answer was not there, either. It wasn't a huge deal, though. It wasn't going to fly open, but it was going to let cold air in. Also I wasn't really sure it wasn't going to fly open, so this was actually pretty nerve-racking for me. I decided to shut it as best as I could and then lock it. It made sense to me that locking it would keep it shut, even if it wasn't actually shut. This works for a few deliveries: I use the rear passenger door instead and do nothing with the broken one. But then, after delivering a pizza, I went back to my car and the door was ajar!* "Oh, man," I thought, disheartened. "Maxwell, you're broken." Defeated, I shut the door one last time. And it actually shut. I had fixed Maxwell! I didn't use that door for the rest of the night, but I have since then and it is definitely fixed! "I am a mechanic!" I proudly exclaimed, and then was embarrassed that I had proudly exclaimed that.
*I never miss an opportunity to teach, and this is one of those opportunities. Notice how the word "ajar" is just that - one word. This is different from "a jar" which means...well, it means a jar. "Ajar" means slightly open, which is what my door was. My door was not a jar. That would've completely thrown me off and I don't think I'd have been able to fix Maxwell. Likewise, the word "apart" is very different from "a part." In fact, those two are actually opposites. If you were "apart" of something, you weren't involved in it. At all. And actually you would have been apart from that something. Now, if you were "a part" of something, you were a part...of it... It's really not that difficult. I get furious every time I see something like, "What a great group of people. I'm so glad I could be apart of it!" on Facebook. It's actually more infuriating than the comment that says, "Me to!" and the other one that says, "Aww, I wish I was their!"
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Awkward Family Photos
On Black Friday, the big thing is shopping the sales, yes? And it's usually crazy busy at stores on this day, yes? Yes. To both of those. However, my family decided it would be a good idea to get some family photos taken. At J.C. Penney's. When I learned this, I wasn't so sure how good of an idea that was, since it was probably going to be pretty busy. You know, with all the people shopping. Since it's a store. And it's Black Friday. In my step-mom's defense, though, she made the appointment a few months ago and didn't realize it was going to be Black Friday. She just knew it was around Thanksgiving and that the whole family would be home.
Turns out, though, that it was, indeed, pretty busy, but it wasn't hectic since our appointment wasn't until like 1:00 or something. We got there pretty early, like at 12:15, so we decided to shop a little bit. And good thing we did! I found some awesome slippers that were originally $30 but were on sale for $20. That's not all, though. When they were rung up, they came up as only $15! Crazy, right?! I know. That was the highlight of my day, for sure. Fortunately, that is not the highlight of this post.
Anyway, the photos, and the awkwardness that accompanied them. The family was my dad, my step-mom, my brothers, my sister, and me. So, it's our turn for pictures. The photographer takes us into the room, looks at my dad and step-mom and says, "So...grandma and grandpa?" Oh. Oh no. Oh, please, no. My dad and step-mom quickly and simultaneously informed her that they were dad and mom, respectively. There was a palpable sense of awkwardness throughout the whole photo shoot after that.
I was also a little offended, because, just continuing on down this photographer's perception of our family tree, I would be married to my sister. Last time I checked, this J.C. Penney's wasn't in Alabama. It's always a little unfortunate when that is assumed, and I feel like it's assumed every time I go anywhere with my sister. I mean, we're both pretty attractive people relatively close in age, so I understand why it happens. But still. My sister is pretty much the worst wingman ever, and she doesn't even know it.
Turns out, though, that it was, indeed, pretty busy, but it wasn't hectic since our appointment wasn't until like 1:00 or something. We got there pretty early, like at 12:15, so we decided to shop a little bit. And good thing we did! I found some awesome slippers that were originally $30 but were on sale for $20. That's not all, though. When they were rung up, they came up as only $15! Crazy, right?! I know. That was the highlight of my day, for sure. Fortunately, that is not the highlight of this post.
Anyway, the photos, and the awkwardness that accompanied them. The family was my dad, my step-mom, my brothers, my sister, and me. So, it's our turn for pictures. The photographer takes us into the room, looks at my dad and step-mom and says, "So...grandma and grandpa?" Oh. Oh no. Oh, please, no. My dad and step-mom quickly and simultaneously informed her that they were dad and mom, respectively. There was a palpable sense of awkwardness throughout the whole photo shoot after that.
I was also a little offended, because, just continuing on down this photographer's perception of our family tree, I would be married to my sister. Last time I checked, this J.C. Penney's wasn't in Alabama. It's always a little unfortunate when that is assumed, and I feel like it's assumed every time I go anywhere with my sister. I mean, we're both pretty attractive people relatively close in age, so I understand why it happens. But still. My sister is pretty much the worst wingman ever, and she doesn't even know it.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Fixing Tim Tebow
I want to be a coach someday, and, as a coach, it will be my job to figure out why a player isn't performing well. Granted, I will, ideally, be a basketball coach, and therefore have no business assessing football players (especially NFL players). However, I believe I have identified Tim Tebow's problem, and it has a very easy fix.
First of all, for those of you who may not know who Tim Tebow is (my sister is really the only person I can think of who may not know who Tim Tebow is), let me fill you in. Tim Tebow is a current (for now. He might get cut on Saturday), left-handed, NFL quarterback for the New England Patriots. He went to college at Florida and was wildly successful there. He even won the Heisman Trophy in 2007, which is kind of like the Most Valuable Player of college football. However, his throwing mechanics are poor. That means he looks goofy when he throws the ball compared to people who do it right. NFL scouts said he'd be a mid-round draft pick, and probably wouldn't succeed in the NFL. Former (at the time, current) Denver Broncos head coach, Josh McDaniels, however, really liked Tim Tebow. Enough to make him the 25th overall selection in the 2010 NFL draft.
In his rookie season, Tebow started a few games and came off the bench to play in a few games, as well. He didn't throw very well, but he ran the ball very effectively. The following year, Tebow, again, began as the backup. The Broncos started out 1-4, though, and had very bad quarterback play from Kyle Orton. Head Coach John Fox (Josh McDaniels accepted a job with a different team, which was kind of a jerk move - he wasted a first round pick on an awful quarterback and then just left) announced that Tim Tebow would start the 6th game of the season after almost leading a comeback the previous week. Thus began a stretch of comebacks led by Tebow. The term "Tebow Time" was widely used to describe the second half of the fourth quarter. Tebow and his magical left arm led the Broncos into the playoffs in 2011, and they even won a playoff game. Not only that, but it was thanks to Tebow, as he threw the game winning touchdown pass on the first play in overtime.
The following offseason, though, the Broncos signed future Hall of Famer, Peyton Manning, to be their new quarterback. They, then, traded away Tebow to the incompetent New York Jets for a fourth round pick and a sixth round pick (the Jets also got a seventh round pick), which is way more than what he is worth as far as a player. Tebow struggled to find playing time, despite the fact that the Jets' quarterback was Mark Sanchez, who is also horrible. After the season, the Jets released Tebow, and the Patriots signed him. Now, on the verge of NFL extinction, Tebow needs some help, and I am the one to offer it to him. But first, a story:
The other day, I was playing baseball with my brother, Liam. I was pitching him balls and he was hitting. Then, just to mix things up, I threw a pitch left-handed. It was awful. It didn't go anywhere near where I wanted it to go. I looked really goofy compared to people who throw correctly, too. Just like Tim Tebow. Then it dawned on me: TIM TEBOW IS RIGHT HANDED!
That's right. Tim Tebow is actually right handed. He just doesn't know it. Tim, if you're reading this, just try throwing right handed. I'll accept $1,000,000 as thanks for saving your career. You're welcome, buddy.
First of all, for those of you who may not know who Tim Tebow is (my sister is really the only person I can think of who may not know who Tim Tebow is), let me fill you in. Tim Tebow is a current (for now. He might get cut on Saturday), left-handed, NFL quarterback for the New England Patriots. He went to college at Florida and was wildly successful there. He even won the Heisman Trophy in 2007, which is kind of like the Most Valuable Player of college football. However, his throwing mechanics are poor. That means he looks goofy when he throws the ball compared to people who do it right. NFL scouts said he'd be a mid-round draft pick, and probably wouldn't succeed in the NFL. Former (at the time, current) Denver Broncos head coach, Josh McDaniels, however, really liked Tim Tebow. Enough to make him the 25th overall selection in the 2010 NFL draft.
In his rookie season, Tebow started a few games and came off the bench to play in a few games, as well. He didn't throw very well, but he ran the ball very effectively. The following year, Tebow, again, began as the backup. The Broncos started out 1-4, though, and had very bad quarterback play from Kyle Orton. Head Coach John Fox (Josh McDaniels accepted a job with a different team, which was kind of a jerk move - he wasted a first round pick on an awful quarterback and then just left) announced that Tim Tebow would start the 6th game of the season after almost leading a comeback the previous week. Thus began a stretch of comebacks led by Tebow. The term "Tebow Time" was widely used to describe the second half of the fourth quarter. Tebow and his magical left arm led the Broncos into the playoffs in 2011, and they even won a playoff game. Not only that, but it was thanks to Tebow, as he threw the game winning touchdown pass on the first play in overtime.
The following offseason, though, the Broncos signed future Hall of Famer, Peyton Manning, to be their new quarterback. They, then, traded away Tebow to the incompetent New York Jets for a fourth round pick and a sixth round pick (the Jets also got a seventh round pick), which is way more than what he is worth as far as a player. Tebow struggled to find playing time, despite the fact that the Jets' quarterback was Mark Sanchez, who is also horrible. After the season, the Jets released Tebow, and the Patriots signed him. Now, on the verge of NFL extinction, Tebow needs some help, and I am the one to offer it to him. But first, a story:
The other day, I was playing baseball with my brother, Liam. I was pitching him balls and he was hitting. Then, just to mix things up, I threw a pitch left-handed. It was awful. It didn't go anywhere near where I wanted it to go. I looked really goofy compared to people who throw correctly, too. Just like Tim Tebow. Then it dawned on me: TIM TEBOW IS RIGHT HANDED!
That's right. Tim Tebow is actually right handed. He just doesn't know it. Tim, if you're reading this, just try throwing right handed. I'll accept $1,000,000 as thanks for saving your career. You're welcome, buddy.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Not Just Ordinary-Special: Thoughts of a Liam
Oh, Lordy. Little kids are my favorite people. About ten minutes ago, Liam, my seven year old brother, was talking to me. We were having a little conversation about football, which mostly consisted of him asking questions and me answering them in very simplified ways. When he ran out of football questions, he paused. Then said, quite randomly, "I wonder why He gave me a gap."
"Who gave you what gap?" I was confused. I mean, we were just talking about football, so I was thinking maybe a gap in zone coverage, or a gap as in a hole for the running back. But Liam didn't have either of those things.
"God, and the gap in my teeth."
"Oh, well, prob-"
"Oh I think I know why! He wanted to make me special. Well, super-special. Not just ordinary-special, like everyone else."
"That's right! He made you super-special instead of regular special by giving you a gap in your teeth."
"Wow. He wanted to give someone a gap in their teeth, and He chose ME...that's COOL!"
"Yeah, that is pretty cool."
"Yeah. And He gave Sam a peeing problem*, so he's special, too."
I was literally crying. I was trying my hardest to not laugh. I was half successful, so I had a huge smile on my face and was exerting a great amount of effort in my chortles and titters. Conversations with Liam are some of my favorite conversations. They are always both hilarious and adorable. Well, not always. Sometimes he taunts me, but I take care of that.
*Sam wets the bed. But he's only nine. That's hardly a peeing problem. For two reasons: 1. That's normal. Well, I'm no expert on children's bladder evacuation habits, but I'd assume it's not really a "problem." And 2. When I think of a "peeing problem," which is almost never (I'm not some sort of weirdo), I think of having a problem peeing. Which makes me mildly uncomfortable for some reason. Now seems like a good time to stop writing.
"Who gave you what gap?" I was confused. I mean, we were just talking about football, so I was thinking maybe a gap in zone coverage, or a gap as in a hole for the running back. But Liam didn't have either of those things.
"God, and the gap in my teeth."
"Oh, well, prob-"
"Oh I think I know why! He wanted to make me special. Well, super-special. Not just ordinary-special, like everyone else."
"That's right! He made you super-special instead of regular special by giving you a gap in your teeth."
"Wow. He wanted to give someone a gap in their teeth, and He chose ME...that's COOL!"
"Yeah, that is pretty cool."
"Yeah. And He gave Sam a peeing problem*, so he's special, too."
I was literally crying. I was trying my hardest to not laugh. I was half successful, so I had a huge smile on my face and was exerting a great amount of effort in my chortles and titters. Conversations with Liam are some of my favorite conversations. They are always both hilarious and adorable. Well, not always. Sometimes he taunts me, but I take care of that.
*Sam wets the bed. But he's only nine. That's hardly a peeing problem. For two reasons: 1. That's normal. Well, I'm no expert on children's bladder evacuation habits, but I'd assume it's not really a "problem." And 2. When I think of a "peeing problem," which is almost never (I'm not some sort of weirdo), I think of having a problem peeing. Which makes me mildly uncomfortable for some reason. Now seems like a good time to stop writing.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Maxwell Strikes Again
You guys remember my car, Maxwell, yes? How he tried to kill me while simultaneously committing suicide? Well, I'm beginning think that Maxwell doesn't like me very much because he struck again today. Here's how it happened.
I was watching some basketball on TV when, suddenly, I realized I had to poop. I got up and walked over to the bathroom only to realize that there was no toilet paper! Welp, that settled that - I had to go to Walmart to buy some toilet paper. I also had a paycheck to deposit, so I decided to make an outing of it. I put on some pants and a coat, went out to my car and started him up. Maxwell hesitated a bit, but eventually we were on our way. I went to the bank first, then to Walmart. As I was getting back into my car I thought to myself, "I'm so freaking good at going to the store, especially when I get to use the self-checkout, because I go so fast! This was such a quick stop!" Well, as I was pulling out of the parking lot, Maxwell sputtered and died. Again. I didn't really know what to do. I was stuck in the left turn lane. I decided to pop the hood so people could see I wasn't just being a jerk and not moving, but rather that something was clearly wrong with my car and I needed help. Nobody stopped. I called my roommate, Ryan, and he came to help me out. We pushed (with the help of one other guy. One other guy. I was there for like ten minutes and only one person stopped to ask if I needed help. Brookings...people (Brookians? Brookinginians?) are jerks) Maxwell to the side of the road, and Ryan tried to give him a jump. That didn't help. I called my dad. He suggested I check the oil. Good thing, because there wasn't much oil. Conveniently, I was in a Walmart parking lot. Even more conveniently, I was right behind an Advance Auto Parts store. I picked the auto store as the best place to buy some oil. I bought two quarts, at the instruction of my dad, and poured the first one in. That didn't work. I poured the second quart in. That didn't work either. I called my dad again to tell him that oil was not the problem (though it probably would've been, eventually, since there was very little of it in my car). Ryan suggested we go ask the guys at Advance if they could look at it to figure out the problem. Pretty solid idea, so we tried that. Unfortunately, there were no mechanics in at that time, but the guy behind the counter suggested that maybe I was out of gas. If you remember, Maxwell's gas gauge is broken so I guess it was possible that I ran out of gas, but I have a system. I reset the odometer after filling up every time, and I don't let it get to 300 miles. I was at 252 miles, so I was close, but I still had a ways to go. But, I had tried all the other suggestions, so I figured I might as well try this one, too. The guy said I should buy the 5 gallon gas can because something with something else...I don't know. I trusted him, though. Of course, since the 5 gallon one is the biggest one, it's also the most complicated one. Ryan took me to go fill up the gas can, but I couldn't figure out how to put the cap on. It's a two part cap where the spout goes inside the cap, then the cap goes on. It wasn't actually that hard to figure out. However, figuring out how to get the gas from the can to my tank was incredibly hard to figure out. The instructions were something like: 1. Twist green ring to the right to unlock. 2. Pump the spout. 3. Twist green ring to the right again until it locks. I don't remember what 4 was because I didn't make it that far. The green ring would not lock. Step 3 was impossible. Eventually I yelled at the gas can, "Today suuuuuuuuucks!" Conveniently, someone was walking to their car, which was next to mine, at that exact moment and asked if I needed help with something. "Ummm, yeah, actually. Do you think you can figure out how this gas can works?" I wonder how stupid that guy thought I was at that time. However, he couldn't figure it out, either, so now he probably doesn't think I'm that stupid. Ryan eventually figured it out, we got the gas in my car, and I tried starting it. It started. It was gas the whole time. I drove to the gas station, filled up, and went home. It was 4:30. I had to work at 5:00. I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO POOP. The only reason I drove anywhere was so that I could get toilet paper to poop, and I couldn't poop until I got done with work.
Maxwell's sleeping outside tonight.
I was watching some basketball on TV when, suddenly, I realized I had to poop. I got up and walked over to the bathroom only to realize that there was no toilet paper! Welp, that settled that - I had to go to Walmart to buy some toilet paper. I also had a paycheck to deposit, so I decided to make an outing of it. I put on some pants and a coat, went out to my car and started him up. Maxwell hesitated a bit, but eventually we were on our way. I went to the bank first, then to Walmart. As I was getting back into my car I thought to myself, "I'm so freaking good at going to the store, especially when I get to use the self-checkout, because I go so fast! This was such a quick stop!" Well, as I was pulling out of the parking lot, Maxwell sputtered and died. Again. I didn't really know what to do. I was stuck in the left turn lane. I decided to pop the hood so people could see I wasn't just being a jerk and not moving, but rather that something was clearly wrong with my car and I needed help. Nobody stopped. I called my roommate, Ryan, and he came to help me out. We pushed (with the help of one other guy. One other guy. I was there for like ten minutes and only one person stopped to ask if I needed help. Brookings...people (Brookians? Brookinginians?) are jerks) Maxwell to the side of the road, and Ryan tried to give him a jump. That didn't help. I called my dad. He suggested I check the oil. Good thing, because there wasn't much oil. Conveniently, I was in a Walmart parking lot. Even more conveniently, I was right behind an Advance Auto Parts store. I picked the auto store as the best place to buy some oil. I bought two quarts, at the instruction of my dad, and poured the first one in. That didn't work. I poured the second quart in. That didn't work either. I called my dad again to tell him that oil was not the problem (though it probably would've been, eventually, since there was very little of it in my car). Ryan suggested we go ask the guys at Advance if they could look at it to figure out the problem. Pretty solid idea, so we tried that. Unfortunately, there were no mechanics in at that time, but the guy behind the counter suggested that maybe I was out of gas. If you remember, Maxwell's gas gauge is broken so I guess it was possible that I ran out of gas, but I have a system. I reset the odometer after filling up every time, and I don't let it get to 300 miles. I was at 252 miles, so I was close, but I still had a ways to go. But, I had tried all the other suggestions, so I figured I might as well try this one, too. The guy said I should buy the 5 gallon gas can because something with something else...I don't know. I trusted him, though. Of course, since the 5 gallon one is the biggest one, it's also the most complicated one. Ryan took me to go fill up the gas can, but I couldn't figure out how to put the cap on. It's a two part cap where the spout goes inside the cap, then the cap goes on. It wasn't actually that hard to figure out. However, figuring out how to get the gas from the can to my tank was incredibly hard to figure out. The instructions were something like: 1. Twist green ring to the right to unlock. 2. Pump the spout. 3. Twist green ring to the right again until it locks. I don't remember what 4 was because I didn't make it that far. The green ring would not lock. Step 3 was impossible. Eventually I yelled at the gas can, "Today suuuuuuuuucks!" Conveniently, someone was walking to their car, which was next to mine, at that exact moment and asked if I needed help with something. "Ummm, yeah, actually. Do you think you can figure out how this gas can works?" I wonder how stupid that guy thought I was at that time. However, he couldn't figure it out, either, so now he probably doesn't think I'm that stupid. Ryan eventually figured it out, we got the gas in my car, and I tried starting it. It started. It was gas the whole time. I drove to the gas station, filled up, and went home. It was 4:30. I had to work at 5:00. I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO POOP. The only reason I drove anywhere was so that I could get toilet paper to poop, and I couldn't poop until I got done with work.
Maxwell's sleeping outside tonight.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Wagon Wheel and Chicken Poppers. Naked.
I'm a delivery guy for Papa John's here in Brookings. It's not usually a super exciting job, but tonight was a little different. There were two deliveries I made that really stood out, and here's why:
My second delivery of the night was to 617 Wagon Wheel Circle 1, which means that 617 Wagon Wheel Circle is an apartment, and this person lives in apartment 1. Wagon Wheel Circle is in an area known as Western Estates. In Western Estates, each area has a name. For instance, all the 700 houses are Morgan's Run, so all of the houses in Western Estates whose house number is in the 700's will be in Morgan's Run. I drove to Western Estates and went to the 600's, since the apartment was 617. I quickly realized that there are no apartments in Western Estates but, for some reason, still assumed the address was correct, just the person was a little confused. I found the 600's, but the sign said that it was Morgan's Pass. "Ha, apparently this person is really confused - his house isn't on Wagon Wheel Circle." I looked for 617, but the 600's only went to 610. Okay. Well, I figured I should probably go to Wagon Wheel Circle, then. When I found Wagon Wheel Circle, I found that it was the 100's of Western Estate. "Oh, okay! He must've meant 117! That's a realistic mistake." Except Wagon Wheel Circle only goes up to 116. "Alright, I gotta call this dude and see what's up here." I pulled over and took out my phone, but I didn't have any service in Western Estates. Of course I didn't. I had to drive farther away from where I wanted to be, but I called the guy. "Hi, is this (name)?"
"Yup it is."
"Hi, this is Joe from Papa John's. I have your order, but I'm having a little trouble finding your place."
"Oh, you just drove right past me!"
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah!"
"Could you tell me your house number?" He could, and he did.
"Ooooooooookay. I'll be there in less than a minute."
And I was. When I got there I apologized and explained what happened.
"The address I have says 617 Wagon Wheel, so..."
"What? That's not right."
"I know. That's not even a real place."
"Yeah, I was gonna say..."
"Welp, have a good night!"
The other notable delivery I made tonight almost didn't happen. I had just gotten back from delivering to campus (which I hate. Our campus is dumb as far as dorms and parking available) and my boss said, "Well, Joe, you wanna do one more or are you ready to go home?" I figured I could do one more. I mean, more money, and there weren't any other drivers in the store at that time, so I kind of had to take it. This one was an apartment. An actual apartment. I've been to this apartment quite a few times this weekend with deliveries. Actually, I'd been to this same room this weekend. The guy who lives there is cool! I was excited. I drove there, went in, and knocked on the guy's door. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. This went on for probably five minutes, which is a long time for knocking. I started to chuckle to myself because I thought, "Heh, he's probably doing it with some chick. Heh." I decided I should call. Of course, though, I had no service in this apartment building. I went outside. As I was walking towards my car, I looked over my shoulder because I knew that this guy's apartment had a window facing the street. As I looked, a woman walked into the room. She was naked. She was also large. "Gross," I thought. But then I thought, "Hey! Someone will answer the door now!" so I went back in and knocked. No answer. I knocked again. I heard a weird yelping noise, then the door opened a tiny bit and a guy stuck his head out. He handed me some money and said, "You can keep all of it!" and I handed him his chicken poppers." Then I thought, "Heh, I was totally right. He totally was doing it," but I felt a little awkward because, since I delivered to this guy's apartment the other night, I felt like I knew him a little.
For some reason, as I was walking to my car, I looked over my shoulder again and into the window. There they both were. Just sitting on some bar stools at the counter eating some chicken poppers. Naked.
My second delivery of the night was to 617 Wagon Wheel Circle 1, which means that 617 Wagon Wheel Circle is an apartment, and this person lives in apartment 1. Wagon Wheel Circle is in an area known as Western Estates. In Western Estates, each area has a name. For instance, all the 700 houses are Morgan's Run, so all of the houses in Western Estates whose house number is in the 700's will be in Morgan's Run. I drove to Western Estates and went to the 600's, since the apartment was 617. I quickly realized that there are no apartments in Western Estates but, for some reason, still assumed the address was correct, just the person was a little confused. I found the 600's, but the sign said that it was Morgan's Pass. "Ha, apparently this person is really confused - his house isn't on Wagon Wheel Circle." I looked for 617, but the 600's only went to 610. Okay. Well, I figured I should probably go to Wagon Wheel Circle, then. When I found Wagon Wheel Circle, I found that it was the 100's of Western Estate. "Oh, okay! He must've meant 117! That's a realistic mistake." Except Wagon Wheel Circle only goes up to 116. "Alright, I gotta call this dude and see what's up here." I pulled over and took out my phone, but I didn't have any service in Western Estates. Of course I didn't. I had to drive farther away from where I wanted to be, but I called the guy. "Hi, is this (name)?"
"Yup it is."
"Hi, this is Joe from Papa John's. I have your order, but I'm having a little trouble finding your place."
"Oh, you just drove right past me!"
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah!"
"Could you tell me your house number?" He could, and he did.
"Ooooooooookay. I'll be there in less than a minute."
And I was. When I got there I apologized and explained what happened.
"The address I have says 617 Wagon Wheel, so..."
"What? That's not right."
"I know. That's not even a real place."
"Yeah, I was gonna say..."
"Welp, have a good night!"
The other notable delivery I made tonight almost didn't happen. I had just gotten back from delivering to campus (which I hate. Our campus is dumb as far as dorms and parking available) and my boss said, "Well, Joe, you wanna do one more or are you ready to go home?" I figured I could do one more. I mean, more money, and there weren't any other drivers in the store at that time, so I kind of had to take it. This one was an apartment. An actual apartment. I've been to this apartment quite a few times this weekend with deliveries. Actually, I'd been to this same room this weekend. The guy who lives there is cool! I was excited. I drove there, went in, and knocked on the guy's door. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. This went on for probably five minutes, which is a long time for knocking. I started to chuckle to myself because I thought, "Heh, he's probably doing it with some chick. Heh." I decided I should call. Of course, though, I had no service in this apartment building. I went outside. As I was walking towards my car, I looked over my shoulder because I knew that this guy's apartment had a window facing the street. As I looked, a woman walked into the room. She was naked. She was also large. "Gross," I thought. But then I thought, "Hey! Someone will answer the door now!" so I went back in and knocked. No answer. I knocked again. I heard a weird yelping noise, then the door opened a tiny bit and a guy stuck his head out. He handed me some money and said, "You can keep all of it!" and I handed him his chicken poppers." Then I thought, "Heh, I was totally right. He totally was doing it," but I felt a little awkward because, since I delivered to this guy's apartment the other night, I felt like I knew him a little.
For some reason, as I was walking to my car, I looked over my shoulder again and into the window. There they both were. Just sitting on some bar stools at the counter eating some chicken poppers. Naked.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
I'm Not A Girl: ECE 362 (And 371)
This semester, I am the only guy in all of my classes. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but sometimes it's a little hard to relate to the examples my teachers will use to try to emphasize a point. Usually they'll use an example clearly aimed at all the ladies (last week a teacher made a comment regarding periods and pregnancy), but they'll backtrack and make the example relatable for me, as well (nothing was added to the period comment to make it relatable for me, though).
Today, in one of my classes, we were discussing the behaviorist theory of child development. Part of the theory is that internal feelings don't affect behaviors, which is stupid, but whatever. The teacher then said something along the lines of, "So, if you step in a puddle, you don't get your homework done, or if your boyfriend broke up with you, that doesn't affect your behavior," but she didn't backtrack. This caught me off guard. I had to reassess my life. "Wait a minute, my boyfriend just broke up with me? What's wrong with me - I'm not even upset about it. Maybe I'm not gay. Wait...I'm gay?"
Then the whole reassessment of my life started again.
"I'm gay? But I have a girlfriend about whom I care very much. So I'm not gay. But then why did I have a boyfriend?"
I must have had a look on my face suggesting I was reassessing my life, because one of the girls at my table said "Or girlfriend for you, Joe." Phew. That was a relief. Everything made sense, then, except the fact that the teacher disregarded me as a member of the class.*
*I'm not really upset about it. But still - that's kind of what happened, right? Whatevs, yo.
Today, in one of my classes, we were discussing the behaviorist theory of child development. Part of the theory is that internal feelings don't affect behaviors, which is stupid, but whatever. The teacher then said something along the lines of, "So, if you step in a puddle, you don't get your homework done, or if your boyfriend broke up with you, that doesn't affect your behavior," but she didn't backtrack. This caught me off guard. I had to reassess my life. "Wait a minute, my boyfriend just broke up with me? What's wrong with me - I'm not even upset about it. Maybe I'm not gay. Wait...I'm gay?"
Then the whole reassessment of my life started again.
"I'm gay? But I have a girlfriend about whom I care very much. So I'm not gay. But then why did I have a boyfriend?"
I must have had a look on my face suggesting I was reassessing my life, because one of the girls at my table said "Or girlfriend for you, Joe." Phew. That was a relief. Everything made sense, then, except the fact that the teacher disregarded me as a member of the class.*
*I'm not really upset about it. But still - that's kind of what happened, right? Whatevs, yo.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Yeah! iPhone!
I don't have an iPhone and, realistically, never will. Partly because I will be forever poor, but mostly because I don't like them. I've never even used an iPhone, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to dislike them. I really hate their commercials. That's really the only reason why I don't like iPhones. It seems like Apple is marketing a phone with basic features and calling them innovative and new. They're not. They're old and dumb. For instance:
I just set my phone to vibrate
The most recent iPhone commercial is a dream that an iPhone owner is having. In said dream, he is single-handedly battling Serena and Venus Williams in a ping-pong match. In the commercial, he says it would be a pity if this dream was interrupted by a phone call. Luckily, the new iPhone has a setting where you can not receive phone calls. Whoa. That is innovative. Oh wait, no it's not. When I don't want to receive phone calls, I turn my phone off. If I want to receive phone calls but don't want to hear my phone ring, I set it to vibrate or silent. Vibrate? Silent? Power button? Now that's innovative.
My thumb does not go from here to here
In another commercial for the iPhone, Apple states that your thumb "goes from here to here," and that the new, bigger screen "goes from here to here," the same "here to here" as your thumb! Pretty cool, eh? Yeah, not if you're me. I have freakishly small hands, and, statistically speaking, your thumb probably doesn't go the exact length as the commercial's actor's thumb does, either. Apple describes this feature as a "dazzling display of common sense." No. It's not. It's assuming we're all dumb. Also, most people I know, including myself, use both hands when operating a phone. My phone is tiny and I still use both hands. Granted, my hands are also tiny, but they're not that tiny.
I'm sorry, this orchestra is making it so I can't hear you
This commercial had a feature that is new and, actually, is pretty neat. Still not flawless, though, or even helpful, really. This is the commercial where there's an orchestra playing, and the commercial narrator asks the maestro to turn it down. He then goes on to state that the new iPhone has a microphone that will turn down the volume of sounds around you. I'm assuming this means that the person to whom you are speaking can't hear the background noise, in this case the orchestra. That's nice. However, you can still hear the orchestra! You have two ears, yes? Your iPhone's only being shoved into one of them. That other ear will pick up the sound of the orchestra, or whatever the background noise is, making the conversation difficult for you to hear.
Headphones* were never round
This one doesn't really deal with the iPhone, but it's an Apple commercial. I guess Apple came out with some new headphones. Their marketing pitch was that your ears aren't round, so why should your headphones be round? These headphones are not round. You know what? My headphones are not round, either. I've had them for five years. This is not even close to a new concept. Actually, the only round headphones I've ever seen in my life were the original iPod headphones.
*By "headphones" I mean earbuds. Apple uses the term "headphones" in the commercial.
I just set my phone to vibrate
The most recent iPhone commercial is a dream that an iPhone owner is having. In said dream, he is single-handedly battling Serena and Venus Williams in a ping-pong match. In the commercial, he says it would be a pity if this dream was interrupted by a phone call. Luckily, the new iPhone has a setting where you can not receive phone calls. Whoa. That is innovative. Oh wait, no it's not. When I don't want to receive phone calls, I turn my phone off. If I want to receive phone calls but don't want to hear my phone ring, I set it to vibrate or silent. Vibrate? Silent? Power button? Now that's innovative.
My thumb does not go from here to here
In another commercial for the iPhone, Apple states that your thumb "goes from here to here," and that the new, bigger screen "goes from here to here," the same "here to here" as your thumb! Pretty cool, eh? Yeah, not if you're me. I have freakishly small hands, and, statistically speaking, your thumb probably doesn't go the exact length as the commercial's actor's thumb does, either. Apple describes this feature as a "dazzling display of common sense." No. It's not. It's assuming we're all dumb. Also, most people I know, including myself, use both hands when operating a phone. My phone is tiny and I still use both hands. Granted, my hands are also tiny, but they're not that tiny.
I'm sorry, this orchestra is making it so I can't hear you
This commercial had a feature that is new and, actually, is pretty neat. Still not flawless, though, or even helpful, really. This is the commercial where there's an orchestra playing, and the commercial narrator asks the maestro to turn it down. He then goes on to state that the new iPhone has a microphone that will turn down the volume of sounds around you. I'm assuming this means that the person to whom you are speaking can't hear the background noise, in this case the orchestra. That's nice. However, you can still hear the orchestra! You have two ears, yes? Your iPhone's only being shoved into one of them. That other ear will pick up the sound of the orchestra, or whatever the background noise is, making the conversation difficult for you to hear.
Headphones* were never round
This one doesn't really deal with the iPhone, but it's an Apple commercial. I guess Apple came out with some new headphones. Their marketing pitch was that your ears aren't round, so why should your headphones be round? These headphones are not round. You know what? My headphones are not round, either. I've had them for five years. This is not even close to a new concept. Actually, the only round headphones I've ever seen in my life were the original iPod headphones.
*By "headphones" I mean earbuds. Apple uses the term "headphones" in the commercial.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Late Night Coke and A Happy New Year
This post is a product of poor choices. It was actually one choice, but it was poor on two accounts. The choice was to crack open a can of Diet Coke at 1 in the morning. It was poor because it's pop and it's 1 in the morning. It was also poor because what I wanted was Coke, but all we had was diet, and I figured it couldn't be too different. It totally is, and whoever prefers Diet Coke over actual Coke is lamesauce.
Since I'm disgusted by this pop and not tired at all, I figured I should write something, but listing my poor life choices seems depressing, especially considering it's a new year and everything is going to change! That's a bunch of bologna if you ask me. I don't think you'll make more money at your job just because it's 2013, or that you'll lose 20 pounds, or whatever you're expecting to happen. The only thing that's going to change for me is that I'll mess up writing checks for a few days. All right, all right, realistically it'll be a few months before I get the date right, but whatever. If your life sucked yesterday, it probably sucked today, too. And it'll probably suck tomorrow.
I think my resolution should be becoming less negative. Or more positive! (it's already working!)
Actually, I think I'm just grumpy because this Diet Coke is so disappointing. It keeps getting worse and worse with every sip. A sip is all I can handle at one time, too. It feels like the can is getting heavier every time I pick it up. Every time I take a sip my stomach makes an angry/sad noise. I just nod in understanding. I think the Diet Coke is disintegrating my mouth because my mouth feels burnt, and I taste what I imagine to be dying taste buds. This is worse than eating Ramen Noodles. I'd rather drink gravy. Or corn syrup. I just burped and it was the worst burp I ever did burp. Diet Coke is the reason I never go on diets. I need to brush my teeth for an hour just so I can breathe without fear of tasting Diet Coke. I'm just going to drink the tears that this sad excuse for a pop has made me cry.
Since I'm disgusted by this pop and not tired at all, I figured I should write something, but listing my poor life choices seems depressing, especially considering it's a new year and everything is going to change! That's a bunch of bologna if you ask me. I don't think you'll make more money at your job just because it's 2013, or that you'll lose 20 pounds, or whatever you're expecting to happen. The only thing that's going to change for me is that I'll mess up writing checks for a few days. All right, all right, realistically it'll be a few months before I get the date right, but whatever. If your life sucked yesterday, it probably sucked today, too. And it'll probably suck tomorrow.
I think my resolution should be becoming less negative. Or more positive! (it's already working!)
Actually, I think I'm just grumpy because this Diet Coke is so disappointing. It keeps getting worse and worse with every sip. A sip is all I can handle at one time, too. It feels like the can is getting heavier every time I pick it up. Every time I take a sip my stomach makes an angry/sad noise. I just nod in understanding. I think the Diet Coke is disintegrating my mouth because my mouth feels burnt, and I taste what I imagine to be dying taste buds. This is worse than eating Ramen Noodles. I'd rather drink gravy. Or corn syrup. I just burped and it was the worst burp I ever did burp. Diet Coke is the reason I never go on diets. I need to brush my teeth for an hour just so I can breathe without fear of tasting Diet Coke. I'm just going to drink the tears that this sad excuse for a pop has made me cry.
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