I think it's safe to say that considering it's not a leap year and everything. Well, lets see ... what is there to talk about?
How about that predictions list I made back in January? Already more predictions have come to being. I HAVE danced under close supervision and it wasn't nearly the catostophy I'd imagined it. I'm pretty sure 5 and 6 may have already happened, I'll need a confirmation on that from Yam. Perhaps 7 has already happened? Someone will have to fess up and admit it.
Other than that, how about that February? It's a short month but even so, man, did it fly by faster than I thought it would. Highlights of the month have been:
Picking up the guitar and getting serious for the first time-
Going out with the small group fellas on Valentines day-
Thursdays at Katy's-
Lack of sanity at Dave and Matt's place -
Dancing ... and surviving! -
Spending last Saturday at Caswell -
and
Last night at the Rusty Nail.
I was at Caswell for my interview and that was tons of fun. I'll hear back this week or early next as to if I'm hired and what position.
The Rusty Nail is a little bar on 5th street, Jesse called me up and he and Matt took me down there to watch Will Fryar play drums. AMAZING. There were several blues bands there for the night and I had no clue we had such talent in Wilmington (nor did I know that Will had such talent). I'll be heading out there every Tuesday I get the chance. If you can stomach the smoke-filled air, you should too.
Well, that's all for now. I have class to prepare for. For all 3 of you that actually read my blog, I hope God blesses you greatly and I wish you a happy March!
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Rollo Please
Read this first, it's short.
WECT.com - Wilmington, NC news and weather - Wilmington Police Roll into the Future
I'm not even going to make a joke about the how they forgot to make "suspect" plural in the third sentence. In fact, what can I do with this story? I mean, seriously, this is a joke on it's own. We have a police officer, giddy over how sneaky he is in his Segway scooter.
"This morning, I had it out for the first time, and I was on the boardwalk, and there were two gentlemen on the boardwalk with open containers. And it's just so quiet and stealthy and I rolled up on them. They didn't expect it, they didn't even know I was there," said officer Scott Holzberger. "They were completely surprised."
May I just take this opportunity to say THANK GOODNESS for the stealthiness of that Segway. Had the officer not surprised the gentlemen, they wouldn't have comically spewed their alcohol all over the boardwalk when he silently appeared just over their shoulders. I don't know, officer, something tells me sneaking up on people who are getting liquored up might just be asking to get a punch in the face.
"Excuse me si...WHAP!"
Now crime will have to answer to the long belly of the law as overweight officers zip around on their Segways downtown. I can see the new Wilmington Police Force photos now, with the patrol cars, Sheriff's deputies, Wilmington's famous mounted officers, and ... the fat guy on the Segway. BUT IF HE'S WEARING SUNGLASSES, HE'S STILL BAD A**, make no mistake!
I feel safer all ready.
Who wants a chocolate cast of my face for Valentine's Day?
WECT.com - Wilmington, NC news and weather - Wilmington Police Roll into the Future
I'm not even going to make a joke about the how they forgot to make "suspect" plural in the third sentence. In fact, what can I do with this story? I mean, seriously, this is a joke on it's own. We have a police officer, giddy over how sneaky he is in his Segway scooter.
"This morning, I had it out for the first time, and I was on the boardwalk, and there were two gentlemen on the boardwalk with open containers. And it's just so quiet and stealthy and I rolled up on them. They didn't expect it, they didn't even know I was there," said officer Scott Holzberger. "They were completely surprised."
May I just take this opportunity to say THANK GOODNESS for the stealthiness of that Segway. Had the officer not surprised the gentlemen, they wouldn't have comically spewed their alcohol all over the boardwalk when he silently appeared just over their shoulders. I don't know, officer, something tells me sneaking up on people who are getting liquored up might just be asking to get a punch in the face.
"Excuse me si...WHAP!"
Now crime will have to answer to the long belly of the law as overweight officers zip around on their Segways downtown. I can see the new Wilmington Police Force photos now, with the patrol cars, Sheriff's deputies, Wilmington's famous mounted officers, and ... the fat guy on the Segway. BUT IF HE'S WEARING SUNGLASSES, HE'S STILL BAD A**, make no mistake!
I feel safer all ready.
Who wants a chocolate cast of my face for Valentine's Day?
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
My Grandma
Betty Westbrook Surles
December 29, 1926 - February 2, 2007
Every once in a while something comes up that is not totally off the wall but is totally worth my time to write about. When I was a wee lad, there was scarce a moment when I was lacking in love and affection. My mother and father poured it all over me, (even though they spanked me, I still feel this way) and even my sisters took time off from being cruel to me on occasion. I think most people would agree with me on this point, though, that grandparents can spoil you like no one else. Maybe it's because they want to reconnect with their youth in some way, or maybe it's because they can give you back when they're done with you, but they are often the sweetest people in your life. My grandma Surles was as sweet as she could be.
When I think of my grandma Surles I think of all the delicious food she cooked. I think of trips to Hardees for fried chicken, eating it in the car and her making sure that no crumbs got in the seats. I remember times when she sat next to me in the back seat on the way to the mountains, she always loved to hear me call the Christmas tree farms "ho ho trees." Trips to Carter Pharmacy where she worked stand out in my mind because of the candy she would buy me and because I can still picture the way she stood behind the counter with her arms crossed. Most of all, I remember the time I spent with her and my granddaddy in their living room watching Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, and the Discovery Channel. She would often sit in a rocking chair or the ottoman next to it and sometimes she would read to me. In particular, I remember her reading to me from a children's Bible. She'd read the story and point out things in the pictures that were of interest. I was filled with utter disbelief when, after one of our reading sessions, she told me I could keep it.
Not too long after my grandfather died, grandma started acting differently. It was only occasional but she would forget big things, or say something completely out of character. Eventually, we learned that she had developed Alzheimer's Disease. From around the time I became a teenager, I didn't have much to do with my grandmother and slowly, the disease took the grandmother I had known away. For the past several years she's been alive, but not really here.
It's a very hard thing to see someone you were so close to as a child become sick like that. I know several friends who have gone through the same thing with their family members and it hasn't been easy for them either. When my grandmother passed away this past Friday I was sad. Sad because I remembered the good times spent with her, grandaddy and the whole family at Easter and Thanksgiving and Christmas. I was sad because I know it'll be a long time before I see her again, but I'm happy that she's free now. When I went home the first thing I did in my room was dig around in some piles to find an artifact I hadn't looked at in years, the children's Bible she gave me. Giving it a quick flip I came to a break in the pages made by a piece of paper that hadn't moved since little Nathan stuck it there. On the paper were various poorly drawn faces. At the top I had written "there are many kinds of faces" and beneath that there were worried faces, sad faces, angry faces, even a kissy face. At the bottom the second line read "we hope you have this one" with an arrow pointing to and circling a smily face. I can't be certain but I think it's safe to say that by "we" I meant "me and grandma." If it's possible, if she can still hear from us in some way, I hope she knows that her grown up grandson still hopes she's smiling.
December 29, 1926 - February 2, 2007
Every once in a while something comes up that is not totally off the wall but is totally worth my time to write about. When I was a wee lad, there was scarce a moment when I was lacking in love and affection. My mother and father poured it all over me, (even though they spanked me, I still feel this way) and even my sisters took time off from being cruel to me on occasion. I think most people would agree with me on this point, though, that grandparents can spoil you like no one else. Maybe it's because they want to reconnect with their youth in some way, or maybe it's because they can give you back when they're done with you, but they are often the sweetest people in your life. My grandma Surles was as sweet as she could be.
When I think of my grandma Surles I think of all the delicious food she cooked. I think of trips to Hardees for fried chicken, eating it in the car and her making sure that no crumbs got in the seats. I remember times when she sat next to me in the back seat on the way to the mountains, she always loved to hear me call the Christmas tree farms "ho ho trees." Trips to Carter Pharmacy where she worked stand out in my mind because of the candy she would buy me and because I can still picture the way she stood behind the counter with her arms crossed. Most of all, I remember the time I spent with her and my granddaddy in their living room watching Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, and the Discovery Channel. She would often sit in a rocking chair or the ottoman next to it and sometimes she would read to me. In particular, I remember her reading to me from a children's Bible. She'd read the story and point out things in the pictures that were of interest. I was filled with utter disbelief when, after one of our reading sessions, she told me I could keep it.
Not too long after my grandfather died, grandma started acting differently. It was only occasional but she would forget big things, or say something completely out of character. Eventually, we learned that she had developed Alzheimer's Disease. From around the time I became a teenager, I didn't have much to do with my grandmother and slowly, the disease took the grandmother I had known away. For the past several years she's been alive, but not really here.
It's a very hard thing to see someone you were so close to as a child become sick like that. I know several friends who have gone through the same thing with their family members and it hasn't been easy for them either. When my grandmother passed away this past Friday I was sad. Sad because I remembered the good times spent with her, grandaddy and the whole family at Easter and Thanksgiving and Christmas. I was sad because I know it'll be a long time before I see her again, but I'm happy that she's free now. When I went home the first thing I did in my room was dig around in some piles to find an artifact I hadn't looked at in years, the children's Bible she gave me. Giving it a quick flip I came to a break in the pages made by a piece of paper that hadn't moved since little Nathan stuck it there. On the paper were various poorly drawn faces. At the top I had written "there are many kinds of faces" and beneath that there were worried faces, sad faces, angry faces, even a kissy face. At the bottom the second line read "we hope you have this one" with an arrow pointing to and circling a smily face. I can't be certain but I think it's safe to say that by "we" I meant "me and grandma." If it's possible, if she can still hear from us in some way, I hope she knows that her grown up grandson still hopes she's smiling.
Friday, February 02, 2007
In Response to the Hamster Dance
Abercrombie and, what was that other guy’s name?
My sister drug me to an Abercrombie the other day. It was only the second time in my life that I'd set foot inside one. While there I realized a glorious truth. No one shops at A&F anymore. By no one I mean, no one in the mainstream. Sure, you have people like Melissa who are just a wee bit led astray, girls who love spending too much money on beat the crap up clothing, and men of very, very questionable sexual orientation.
For those of you who have, rightfully so, not ventured into an A&F since you were a fledgling tween discovering your modest popularity in middle school, I've prepared a reminder of what the experience is like.
The first thing you'll notice, and sadly you notice this even if you avoid going in, is that somewhere along the line someone lied to the clothing company and told them they were a club. From 40 yards away the techno/electronic beats will reverberate in your skull and somewhere, deep down inside, you'll feel like dancing. Then you realize it's just the retards at Abercrombie. Much to my dismay, upon entering there weren't any of the glow stick toting, ecstasy tripping dance-a-holics that I had dreamed up in my head. Looks like two sorority girls and a giant fake moose head is about all they could get to be excited about the party. By excited I mean, as much as the moose head.
And about that moose head, it's not real (I asked) and it is apparently important to their "image," yet they don't seem to be able to take the time to dust old moosey. I haven't seen that much dust since I was in the arid valleys of San Diego. I'm certainly glad that moose isn't real because if he were, they wouldn't be doing a good job of honoring his memory. Besides that, I have a theory. They know animal rights activists will be after them if they put up a "real" Moose head, so I believe they constructed a "fake" moose head from other parts of the moose. That’s real moose fur...they could grind the bones up and make a paste to keep it all together. I'm telling you, that’s real moose up there, at least some of it.
So once you're over the horrors of the decapitated moose head (man, that makes me want to shop) if you're like me, you want to ignore the clothes and kick it old school over every square inch of open floor. Melissa didn't approve of my dancing, solo or with the displays. Then, just as you're starting to have fun, the slow realization creeps in of how homoerotic the whole situation is. Think about it, you feel like dancing in an empty clothing store surrounded by posters of naked men. If that doesn't mess with your head, I don't know what will.
People of America (especially men), it is time to abandon A&F in favor of other, better shopping atmospheres. If you still need ridiculously overpriced clothing, there are Banana Republics and the like, which will supply that need.
When life throws me lemons I'm like, "Who the crap is life and why does he keep pelting me with fruit?"
My sister drug me to an Abercrombie the other day. It was only the second time in my life that I'd set foot inside one. While there I realized a glorious truth. No one shops at A&F anymore. By no one I mean, no one in the mainstream. Sure, you have people like Melissa who are just a wee bit led astray, girls who love spending too much money on beat the crap up clothing, and men of very, very questionable sexual orientation.
For those of you who have, rightfully so, not ventured into an A&F since you were a fledgling tween discovering your modest popularity in middle school, I've prepared a reminder of what the experience is like.
The first thing you'll notice, and sadly you notice this even if you avoid going in, is that somewhere along the line someone lied to the clothing company and told them they were a club. From 40 yards away the techno/electronic beats will reverberate in your skull and somewhere, deep down inside, you'll feel like dancing. Then you realize it's just the retards at Abercrombie. Much to my dismay, upon entering there weren't any of the glow stick toting, ecstasy tripping dance-a-holics that I had dreamed up in my head. Looks like two sorority girls and a giant fake moose head is about all they could get to be excited about the party. By excited I mean, as much as the moose head.
And about that moose head, it's not real (I asked) and it is apparently important to their "image," yet they don't seem to be able to take the time to dust old moosey. I haven't seen that much dust since I was in the arid valleys of San Diego. I'm certainly glad that moose isn't real because if he were, they wouldn't be doing a good job of honoring his memory. Besides that, I have a theory. They know animal rights activists will be after them if they put up a "real" Moose head, so I believe they constructed a "fake" moose head from other parts of the moose. That’s real moose fur...they could grind the bones up and make a paste to keep it all together. I'm telling you, that’s real moose up there, at least some of it.
So once you're over the horrors of the decapitated moose head (man, that makes me want to shop) if you're like me, you want to ignore the clothes and kick it old school over every square inch of open floor. Melissa didn't approve of my dancing, solo or with the displays. Then, just as you're starting to have fun, the slow realization creeps in of how homoerotic the whole situation is. Think about it, you feel like dancing in an empty clothing store surrounded by posters of naked men. If that doesn't mess with your head, I don't know what will.
People of America (especially men), it is time to abandon A&F in favor of other, better shopping atmospheres. If you still need ridiculously overpriced clothing, there are Banana Republics and the like, which will supply that need.
When life throws me lemons I'm like, "Who the crap is life and why does he keep pelting me with fruit?"
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