Smell Bank

Uh...hi. I've missed you all. Sorry about my absence. I've been rather...um....I've been reading the Twilight saga. I know, I know, I KNOW. Please don't say anything. I know how awful that is to most of you. those of you it's not awful to are probably going, "YAYYY HE CAVED". I know at least two of you are. You know who you are...

Anyway, today's post is about smells. And how smells affect me. Are you intrigued yet? Keep reading, it gets weirder. 

I know everyone has a Smell Bank that they hold near and dear to his or her heart. You may call it by a different name, but it's all the same thing. It's that collection of various smells that instantly triggers a memory, a thought, or a particular feeling. Or all of the above. You know what I'm talking about, right? Well today, because it's Monday, and because it's hot outside, and because I'm eating cashews and drinking a beer on the Old Lady Couch, I'm going to share some of my Smell Bank with you.

The smell of diesel exhaust in the summertime. Not just a diesel pickup, either. I'm talking heavy machinery. Back hoe, loader, tractor, FARM EQUIPMENT, MAN! It reminds me of my summers at the farm, which I miss. Horribly. I seriously considered foregoing college and just going back to the farm to work. It's a secure job, it's something I LOVE doing, and my uncles need help. Like, seriously. My cousins are all grown and have their own lives, and as anyone who grew up on a farm knows, when the kids don't work there anymore, the work force is severely impacted. It's just my uncles and my Uncle R's two sons. And Grandpa, but he's 86, and he sorta does what he wants. And we don't argue with that. It USED to be my two uncles, Grandpa, my Uncle R's 3 kids, my Uncle D's 4 kids, me, my cousin Big Fella, Big Fella's little brother, Little Big Fella, and my sister. During the summers, anyway. But yeah. I miss the farm.

The smell of asphalt in the sun. This is another summertime smell. Dad used to work road construction, and he would come home smelling like asphalt in the sun. During the most impressionable time of my childhood, that was just how Dad smelled. To this day, I can't drive down the Kansas highway during the summer without thinking of my Dad. Every time. :)

The smell of IBP in the winter. I know that this one is weird, but just go with me on this. Mom worked at IBP/Tyson for 20-something years. When I was really little, she worked in an office on the slaughter side of the plant. Slaughter side has a very distinct smell. It doesn't smell like death or anything like that, but the rendering and the slaughter processes just have a very distinct smell. Anyway, a very very vivid memory of mine is Mom coming to pick me up from the sitter's, and I would run and give her a hug, of course. She had a green IBP jacket that she wore in the winter time, and my little self just loved that jacket. I have no clue why, other than it smelled like Mom. I just remember burying my face in her jacket, and smelling her perfume, the distinct smell of IBP, and the cold air outside, and it was the best smell in the world. My sister has this particular smell in her Smell Bank, too. Mom hates that we identify the smell of IBP with her, but we can't help it. Any mother's child will tell you that their Momma never smells bad. She just smells like Momma.

Spearmint in the rain. Grandma Smith always had fresh spearmint in her garden. I would always go walk through her garden when it was misty and foggy outside, down at the farm. During the spring, usually. April-ish. You all know those misty/foggy April-ish days, right? I know you do. Anyway, this smell sticks with me because of one particular day. I was walking through Grandma's garden in the mistyfog, thinking, because I did that a LOT when I was younger, and I looked over and saw a rabbit in the spearmint patch. Weird, right? I know. But anyway, I went over to get a closer look, and realized that walking on the spearmint bruised it just enough to cause the air to EXPLODE with the smell of spearmint. It was such a good smell to me, then. I could smell the rain and I could smell the dirt of the garden and I relished in the smell of the spearmint. To this day, I still catch whiffs of spearmint in the rain, and it always makes me smile. :)

I think I will leave my little dive into the Smell Bank here, for tonight. Who knows, I may share more some other time. I've definitely got loads of smells to share. Do any of you have any smells that just make your life complete? Go ahead and share, if you want. :)

Hasta luego!

Jimmy Dean Buffett McHoulihan

My Body and I

...have a very interesting relationship.

Namely, 99 days out of 100, my body says "rest" and I say "when I'm dead."

Today is apparently day 100, and I have not only flaked out on a run, which I feel insanely bad for, but I am stretched out on the living room floor doing yoga....reading Twilight.

...My body wants Twilight, okay?

This round is yours, body, but come Wednesday? You're mine.

P.S. It is really hot outside. Waking up at 4:00 was a success. I got to work at 5:09, and was SUPPOSED to work an 8-hour day. Instead, I worked a 10.6 hour day, and I think I will continue to work 10-hour days the rest of the week. WHAT'S THE POINT OF GOING IN EARLY IF I DON'T GET OFF EARLY, HUH??  -sigh- If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go have a beer, followed by lots of water, followed by a beer, followed by a protein shake, followed by something massive and greasy to eat. Followed by water. Followed by sleep.

Unearthly.

That's the adjective for the time that my alarm is set for in the morning. 4:15 a.m.

It's going to be so hot this week that Uncle Bossman made the executive decision that work will start at 5:15 this week, instead of 6:30, like normal. I mean, 6:30 is plenty early, but 5:15? Almost obscene. Buh. 

So anyway, I spent today being totally unproductive. I watched Lonesome Dove. That's pretty much it. It's a 6-hour miniseries. There's not much else you can do, when you spend a day watching that movie. I love that movie. The all-star cast, the acting, the plot...it's all fantastic. It's my favorite movie of all time. Seriously.

Right now, I'm blogging. I should be sleeping, but it's still daylight outside. I can't do it. I just...I can't. Buh. This is just not conducive to the way I want my life to be going. I want to be back in school. Now more than ever. Just a few weeks to go....

In other news....I made a bet. With LJ. If she read all 7 HP books, I'd....I'd read all 4 Twilight books....and see the movies. Well, I'm not sure that she's started reading yet, but I have. I bought Twilight last week. I'm on page 22. I'm less hateful towards the story than I used to be. Now I'm officially neutral. That's about all I have to say about that.

It's 9:01 right now, and I know that I should be sleeping. But...I'm not even in bed yet. I'm watching the Cooking Channel. Go figure.

Earlier, I was planning on a relatively lengthy post about lifestuffs, but right now all I can think about is how early my alarm is going off tomorrow morning. It's pretty much consuming my entire life.

Depressed in Kansas,

M-Diddy.

Stuff and Things...

So my Internet browser of choice is Mozilla Firefox. I love this browser. Quite possibly more than I should, but it's great.

One of the awesome things about Firefox is that it has a lot of available add-ons that you can get to more or less enhance your web-browsing experience. One add-on that I love is called StumbleUpon. Basically, when you sign up for this particular add-on, you fill out an interests profile and install  a toolbar. Then, once the toolbar is installed, you click the button labeled, "Stumble", and based on your interests, Firefox finds a random web page that it thinks you will like. 94 times out of 100, SU (StumbleUpon) has served me so well that it's almost baffling. Anyway, today, because I was bored, I decided to pop in a DVD (Lonesome Dove, my favorite movie in the world), fix a milkshake of the chocolate-banana variety, and go on a Stumble Marathon.

Anyway, the first site that popped up was titled, "Sixteen Things That It Took Me 50 Years To Learn", and is actually a mini-column written by Dave Barry. If you don't know who Dave Barry is, I'm sorry. He's a humor columnist and is just one of the funniest people out there. I love his stuff. Anyway, back to the site. These 16 things were presented in list form, first of all. I'm sure you all know how happy that made me. Second of all, these 16 things are actually completely worth reading, and sharing. So...I'm gonna do that.

1. You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe daylight saving time.
2. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment. -I think that this is a particularly valuable tidbit...-
3. The most powerful force in the universe is gossip.  
4. The one thing that unites all human beings, regardless of age, gender, religion, economic status or ethnic background, is that deep down inside we ALL believe that we are above-average drivers.
5. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is age 111. -I can only hope I make it to that age. There's gonna be ONE HELL of a party.-  
6. There is a very fine line between "hobby" and "mental illenss." -e.g. Running.-
7. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share your religious views with them.
8. If you had to identify, in one word, the reason why the human race has not achieved, and will not achieve, its full potential, that word would be "meetings." 
9. The main accomplishment of almost all organized protests is to annoy the people who are not in them. -How right you are, Mr. Berry.-
10. If there really is a God who created the entire universe with all of its glories, and He decides to deliver a message to humanity, He will NOT use, as His messenger, a person on cable TV with a bad hairstyle.  
11. You should not confuse your career with your life. -I'm writing this one down on a post-it note right now and sticking it on my mirror.-
12. A person who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person. -Always, but ALWAYS tip your server. Seriously.- 
13. No matter what happens, somebody will find a way to take it too seriously. -And I hate it.-
14. When trouble arises and things look bad, there is always one individual who perceives a solution and is willing to take command. Very often, that individual is crazy. -Very often, that individual is me.-  
15. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and do it. -This is something I should take to heart.-   
16. Your friends love you, anyway. -This is something I REALLY need to remember. Seriously.-

Well, I know that this wasn't the funniest blog post I've had, but I hope that that list up there made you think a little bit, and hopefully you take something away from it. Stay tuned for a Lonesome Dove-related post tonight. I've got a fever, and the only cure is more blogging. 

Hasta pronto!

Michael

COOL LIKE FIYAH

...Or however you spell what Sean Kingston sings about.

So today....was hot. As shit. And I worked outside. All day. I think I lost a couple pounds in sweat, and if you know me, you know I cannottttt afford to do that. So the beer du jour is a Budweiser. Yeah, that's right. "Pork Chop in a Can." "Liquid bread." Bud heavy. Nectar of the friggin gods, I tell you. I love me some Colorado craft beer, but some days, especially days when the heat index is 94 when you wake up at 5:15 in the morning, nothing beats a good ol' watered-down American-style lager. Mmmmmmm.

Enough about this blasted heat. We all know how hot it is. I just hope it's not this godawful for my bloggies in other states and/or Districts. Hi Jen! Hope your running is less dreadful than mine! :)

So the Identity Crisis (that still doesn't have a name...slackers) is starting to get a little less...crisic. It's a word, look it up. 

Tonight's supper: nowhere near as glamorous as the other night's delish steak fajitas. Leftover spaghetti sauce loaded up with parm and garlic wrapped in a tortilla and microwaved. With a Budweiser. Bahahahaha I feel so ridiculous right now.

Speaking of Colorado craft beer, it's pretty much my favorite. Ever. Ft Collins, Breckenridge, Odell, Boulder Beer Co., I love them all. I think I'm going to have to give a craft beer tutorial, sometime. I'll make beer drinkers out of you beer haters, yet!

Also, I read Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree the other day. It made my lip wibble. I forgot how much I loved that story.

I also just put on a pair of shorts. I realize that that sentence is totally irrelevant to anything I've said so far, and you probably didn't care to know, anyway, but here's the thing: I put them on left leg first. That's backwards for me. I ALWAYS put on my pants right leg first. Have you ever tried putting on your pants with the opposite leg first? Your legs suddenly acquire lysdexia and don't seem to work, anymore. At least, mine did. I nearly fell over. Actually, I did fall over, I was just trying to save face. Fortunately, there was my bed nearby to catch me. 

Speaking of my bed...I sorta overslept today. First time since I started my job way back in March. Bad deal. So....again, I'm cutting the blog short. Stay tuned for a lengthy post tomorrow. I've got a free Thursday!

Stay pretty, everyone. That's the only thing that matters.

-Michael Dean

Ow.

I have a headache.

I'm pretty sure it's from the sun.

And the heat.

And probably dehydration.

Turns out, today: hot.

I sweat so much, I soaked my boots. Let alone my shirts and jeans and...stuff.

Seriously, this headache is annoying.

A snake slithered across my boots today. I screamed like a girl. Then took a picture of it.

Big mothafuckin snake.

Seriously. Buh.

I really don't have a lot to say tonight, other than...ow.

Peace be with you, brah.

-Jimmy

YEEEEE-HAW!**

Short sentences.

That's what I'm gonna be speaking in tonight. 

Maybe I'll just bullet this blog post.

I'm thinking in short, random bursts, so I guess that's how this blog is going to go. Sound good? GOOD!

• Today's beer du jour. Freakin' delish. And don't judge me. I know this is 2 pale ales in 2 days, but it's summer. It's time for freakin' summer beer, ALRIGHT? Alright. :)
• Tonight's supper: steak fajitas. home-grown yellow, orange and green bell peppers and a home-grown red onion marinated in lime juice, sprinkled with salt and pepper, grilled to perfection. Topped with homemade pico de gallo and a little sour cream. I'm in heaven. Like for serious. The only thing that would make this supper better? Black bean salsa. Oh wait. I had that, too. :)
• Today: I decided that I'm going to have a great week. So far, so good. Turns out positive thinking really works. Like, for real. Seriously. (ha) Give it a shot this week, okay? It works. 
• I am toying with the idea of a foot tattoo. Is that 100% not okay because I'm a guy? I honestly want to know, because the foot would be the ideal place for me to put something smallish and meaningful. I feel like I'm way too scrawny to get a tattoo in all the other "guy" places...Please offer input. 
• I know that I will not be a graduate of Kansas State, but I feel like eventually, I will have a Powercat tattoo. K-State Alums and students, please understand that I will never ever love K-State any less than I did the day I was accepted, and a Powercat tattoo would simply be a token of my affection. Not a bragging right for being an alum or anything like that. Just sayin. 
• I guess the previous two bullets mean I'll eventually have more than one tattoo, and I'm surprisingly okay with that.
• I'm a cilantro freakazoid. Just sayin.
• I'm also pretty sure that my veins and arteries are full of pico de gallo, instead of blood. I've been eating pico and (homemade) chips like...well, like my life depends on it. IT'S JUST SO GOOD. Also, Karen, if you're reading this, and I know you're reading this, home grown tomatoes are worlds better than store bought. Next time you go to the Farmers Market, please, treat yourself and buy a tomato. Or like six. And then email me for my pico recipe. And my vegan tortilla chip recipe. Turns out it's vegan because my Momma hates lard. This is just another sign that we're meant to be bffs.
• That last bullet was not in short sentences, and was in fact, one long thought. Looks like I'm a hypocrite.
• Another shout out to Karen: I work for a landscaping company. Do you think it odd that you're drawn to men who are involved in this line of work? I mean, I'm just sayin.
• Apparently Karen is dominating my thoughts. 
• So is booze.
• Karen and booze.
• I seriously stuffed myself stupid on fajitas, black bean salsa, pico, and beer tonight. I'm actually full. Sister One is scoffing right now, because she doesn't think I'll ever be full, but it's true. I'm full.
• Jelly Belly jelly beans can make me smile. Any day. Any time. No matter what. Always.
• So can Jolly Ranchers.
• This Kansas summer weather is hell on my skin. I really need a break from it. Good thing I'm going to CO in August.
• I'm going to CO in August. More specifically, Copper Mountain.
• I'm running in the Rocky Mountain Warrior Dash.
• Shel Silverstein and Jack Prelutsky shaped my childhood. Seriously.
• It's 11:01. I think I should go to bed now.

Stay tuned for more positive thought-laced ramblings throughout the week. I think I'm FINALLY getting a handle on this daily blog thing. That's awesome, considering my blog's subtitle is "DAILY ruminations"...

Anyway, please have a wonderful night and a beautiful tomorrow. Find a reason to smile! :)

Sincerely yours,

Michael Dean Jimmy Jack McGillicuddy

**The title of this blog post is entirely unrelated to anything that is actually in the blog post. Just in case you hadn't figured that out yet...

Woo Tattoo?

So here's the skinny:

I've been honestly contemplating getting a tattoo for...about a year now.

I've come to the conclusion (this week, in fact) that I want one.

Unfortunately, I have no idea what I want, and I'm not entirely decided on where I'm gonna stick that thing. And I KNOW that's enough reason to NOT get one.

But I want one.

And I'm whiny. 

And I get what I want.

All I know is I want something that's...Me. And small (I'm kinda a smallish person).

I also know that I want to stick it somewhere I could cover it, if need be. So...considering I'm not a nudist, I guess that leaves a lot of places wide open. Oy.

Back to square one, I suppose...

Input?

Help Me, Rhonda

So here I sit.

On the couch that we just inherited from my late great grandma. 

It's an old lady couch, TO THE MAX.

I'm talkin like, sateen, floral print, tone-on-tone damask patterns, straight-up old lady couch. 

It's also a hide-a-bed.

But I digress.

So here I sit, on the old lady couch, eating my way through a half-gallon of homemade pico de gallo and drinking my way through a DELICIOUSLY floral extra pale ale, courtesy of Odell Brewing Co. in Ft. Collins, CO. I'm tellin ya, this is the life. I'm also not kidding about that half-gallon of homemade pico. Our garden kinda exploded this week, so we have tomatoes and onions and herbage coming out the wazoo. Also, I love craft beer. Remind me to blog about craft beer, sometime. I'll probably bore you all to death, but eh. That's a risk I'm willing to take.

ANYWAY, here I sit on the old lady couch, eating my way through a half-gallon of homemade pico and drinking a wonderful beer, watching the Cooking Channel.

For those of you who don't have the Cooking Channel, let me just describe it to you.

Food Network * a billion + shows about booze and world cuisine - Bobby Flay* = Cooking Channel.

Totally. Friggin. Fepic. 

I love this channel. It's...it's my drug. Seriously. I, being the foodie-in-training that I am, can NOT get enough of this channel.

Anyway, there's this show on the Cooking Channel called "Drink Up." It's hosted by some dude named Darryl Robinson. He would pretty much be my idol, if I could freakin stand to listen to him talk. Like, seriously. This guy...oh man. Just..yeah. Stay tuned about Dr. Mixologist.

The episode of Drink Up that I'm watching right now is all about vodka. I'm in heaven. It's such a wonderful and versatile spirit. It's just...yeah. You can use it to enhance so many dishes and drinks...hold on. Gimme a second. If I don't compose myself, I'm going to go off on a booze tangent, and anyone who knows me at all knows that once I get going on the booze, there is no turning me around. 

ANYWAY, back to Dr. Can'tspeak. Seriously. This guy can't speak. An entire 30 minute episode about vodka, and not ONCE did he pronounce the 'd' in the word. I just learned about 43640 ways to make "vocka cocktells", and that just annoys the shit out of me. 

Um...crap. My thought train just got de-railed. I'm now watching a Drink Up episode about white wine, and am equally riveted as I was by the vocka episode and the beer episode before that. 

I've also seriously just cleaned off that pico. Holy shit where did it all go? And my homemade tortilla chips? Mere crumbs. I...I think I have a problem.

* I hate Bobby Flay.

Insomni-yak.

I am one. And I feel like that guy up there. Seriously. I'm 30 minutes into my Melatonin/Joshua Bell regimen, and my eyes aren't even CLOSE to being heavy. Wtf, brain. W.t.f.

I mean, I can totally understand that my life at this point in time isn't entirely conducive to relaxation and restful slumber, but still. I'm even medicated, and it's with something my body ALREADY makes to help induce sleep. Oy. This is ridiculous.

I've even taken to lifespeaking my brains out to my friends (see previous blog post) in an apparently vain effort to organize my thoughts and clear my head enough to sleep. No dice. It's just not fair. I wish my brain had a "bedside mode" like my crackberry, Wyatt*. Totally dims the lights and silences itself during the night. That would be AWESOME.

Bah. This is bull crap. My brain is seriously running at around 90 mph and my body is struggling to keep up. This whole identity crisis that I've got going on these days about skoolnstuf (it's a blanket term slash mash-up word. school and stuff: skoolnstuf) is going to do me in. This crisis is actually big enough that I'm going to ask all of you (my faithful readers) to name it for me. Name it anything you like. There will be a prize for the winner. Seriously. Get on it, folks.

But seriously, seriously. How many times have I said "seriously" in this post? I feel like I say it too often for it to hold any emphasis, anymore. Anyway, (I say that one a lot, too. Haha alot.) if something doesn't change, I'm not sure what I'm going to do, other than...something crazy. Something wild. Something EXTREME. Something INSAAAAAAAANE. Like taking up yoga. Or songwriting. Or crocheting. Who knows, I MAY EVEN TAKE UP CROSSWORD PUZZLES! I'M A MAN ON THE EDGE; THERE'S NO TELLING WHAT THE LIMIT TO MY CRAZY WILD EXTREME INSANE BEHAVIOR WILL BE!! What was it that Romeo said on the steps to the cathedral when confronted by the po-po after killing Tybalt? "TEMPT NOT A DESPERATE MAN!!!"? I think that was it. I dunno. All I can picture is a much younger Leo crying in an awkward manner while his shirt is being blown about, displaying his pasty torso in an equally awkward manner. Man, I love that movie. Speaking of that movie, I can play this song on the piano. It sounds kinda like this. It makes Sister One and Sister Two swoon when I play it for them. Seriously. (See, there I go again. It's totally lost all effect, now.)

Anyway, back to the yak-ness of my life. If something doesn't change soon, I think I'm just gonna explode. That sounds like a cure-all, to me. When life gets to be too much, just blow up. Problem solved! As a matter of fact, I think I'm going to invent a self-explosion kit for that very purpose. Except, I'm going to call it something dirty, just because I can, and everyone likes a seemingly harmless (sans the blood and gore and body parts flying everywhere) invention with a dirty name. What do you think of the Blowmatic? Or maybe the...I dunno. I suck at naming seemingly harmless (sans the blood and gore and flying body parts) inventions dirty names. I'm just too nice, I guess. I'll let you guys name the self-exploder, too.

Anyway, (Seriously, Michael?) I think I'm gonna wrap this puppy up and lie in bed until sheer exhaustion claims me for a couple hours. And then I get to go to work in my personal version of Hell. Doesn't that sound FUN? -Yeah, Michael, that sounds like a fuggin blasty-blast. Quit drowning your readers in sarcasm, thanks.- I guess that's all for now. Be sure to comment with any thoughts or questions, as you guys are quite the silent group of bloggies, and that just makes me feel like you don't care. And I'm all about being liked, so y'all better start caring, darn it! "I'm like Tinkerbell, Finn. I NEED APPLAUSE TO LIVE." Name that show, and I'll buy you a drink next time I see you. Seriously.

Okay, friends, I believe I'm done for the night. Until next time, don't forget to smile, and always tip your bartender.

Bonne nuit!

Michael Dean

P.S. Tave, consider yourself invited to Glebo. This Thursday. Yes, please and thanks.

M

* I name all of my electronic devices after Tombstone characters. Crackberry: Wyatt. iPod: Doc iHolliday. Old-school palm pilot: Ike. Laptop: The Lappy. I ran out of cool Tombstone names...

Word Vomit Weekend Recap

Good evening, all!

So here's the skinny: I have an IRRESISTIBLE urge to blog, but I have zero clue what I'm going to say. So let's just close our eyes, hang on tight, and see where this post takes us, eh? Sweet! Let's go!

I do remember that I promised you a weekend recap, so let me get that out of the way in the beginning.

Thursday night: Glebo* with the Golden Sisters. I love the Golden Sisters. They're sisters, and they're golden, only not in age, just in complexion and personality. Sister One and I cooked a delicious supper for Sister Two and Husband One. In case you were wondering, Husband One is married to Sister Two, and didn't show up until AFTER supper was made and devoured, but don't worry, we saved him some. What was for supper? Well we were originally planning on some stuffed chicken breasts coated in bread crumbs and pan-fried with a side of cheesy potatoes. What happened was a side of cheesy potatoes topped with seasoned (and delectably crunchy) bread crumbs, corn on the cob, (Drool. Die. Yum-o. Help me, Rhonda, I love corn on the cob.) and pan-fried/seared chicken breasts topped with a spinach cream sauce that was actually just canned Alfredo sauce, frozen baby spinach, and a little help from Dr. Spice Rack. Sounds dicey, but was in fact quite tasty. All in all, the supper was a total success, and Sister Two got to sit at the bar and booze up while Sister One and I ran around the kitchen like lunatics. Seriously, the three of us together: nuttier than squirrel poo.  Anyway, Sister Two sobered up during supper, Husband One came home, Sister One peaced out, and Sister Two, Husband One and Blogger Three (What, I can't be Blogger Three? We already have Sister One and Husband One, how repetitive and redundant would it be to have Blogger One? Actually, I guess you're right. It wouldn't be repetitive OR redundant because while there would be another "Insert Title Here One" in this blog, since the title isn't...you know what? I don't remember where I was going with this, so I'm just going to close the parentheses and continue with the weekend recap. Aaaaand SCENE.) decided to hang out and talk and then take a drive out to Husband One's parents' new house, which is in the process of being constructed. Let me tell you, it was a wonderful night. Then Blogger Three decided that it was time to go home and not fall asleep, but waste a few hours tossing and turning and killing brain cells on the Internet. Because that's what Blogger Three does. 

Friday: Haircut Day. I love Haircut Day. Like, LOVE. A lot. Hahaha alot. Now, thanks to my blog creeping, any time I see "a lot" or "alot" or even HEAR the phrase in conversation, I, like my dear new friend-I've-never-met, The Trophy Wife, think of this. By the way, shout out to the Trophy Wife: if you think you've met your Jack, you ain't seen nothin' yet. I'm not sayin, I'm just sayin. Keep that in mind. Anyway, after my haircut, I made a Starbucks run and went to see Sister One at work. Several hours later (yeah, I was at the Touch for several hours. What of it?) I went into work at the booze depot. I got off work at 9:00. Then, it was wine night. Oh man, and was it EVER wine night. We (a bunch of friends, including 1/3 of Team Omaha and her Southern Beau, AB and The Other Michael, Sister Two and Husband One and Big D and Molly) all got together at Sister One's house and commenced boozing. Granted, they had all gotten started before I showed up, but hey, I can't begrudge them their good time. Anyway, at the end of the night, 3 girls had polished off 7 bottles of wine (that's 2.33333333333333333 bottles per girl, in case you were wondering) and us guys had finished our fair share of beer. Then, after some boozy (but still EXTREMELY awesome and meaningful) lifespeak with Sister One, I cashed out on her couch.

Saturday: Sister One refused to let me wake up with my alarm (I have a thing about setting the alarm. It's much like my list-making and other stupid AR/OCD tendencies) so we both kinda woke up at our own time, which happened to be around the same time. I feel like this is a good time to tell you that Team Omaha decided the night before that the 7-mile run on Saturday morning would wait until Sunday. Apparently 7 bottles of wine and a river of beer makes running 7 miles a little tougher. Who knew. Anyway, Sister One and I were kinda bummin' around for a bit, and then we decided to go to breakfast at Village Inn. Summary: food was to die for, waitress didn't get a tip. THEN we went and saw Sister Two at the Touch. Love me some Sister Two. THEN we went back to Sister One's so I could shower and de-grossify before I went back to the booze depot for work at 1. Then I worked for 8 hours. Woop. THEN I went BACK to Sister One's to pick up my beer from the night before. Then I went to Wal-Mart and bought new wiper blades for Junior the Tahoe. Is this getting too detailed for you? Paraphrase? Eh? Well, I ended up hanging out with Sister Two all night and having some amazingly meaningful and awesome lifespeak time with HER, while at the same time driving her new Stang and laughing hysterically at a drunk Husband One. Then I went home, took a Melatonin, went to sleep HARD CORE, and had some wicked crazy dreams. I think one of them involved a dinosaur.

Sunday: When I say that I slept HARD CORE, I mean, I don't think I even moved during the night. For like, 9 hours. I TOTALLY slept through my alarm(s) and missed that 7-miler I mentioned earlier. Fortunately for me, Sister One was just super glad I actually got some sleep. I think I may have had her worried with my elevated stress levels and decreased sleepytimes. You'd have to ask her, though. Anyway, since there was lots of rain yesterday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA, by the way) our family plans kinda fizzled out like a wet firecracker. So I was going to go over to Sister Two's and chill with her and Husband One and Sister One and The Pack O'Friends that go along with them. What ACTUALLY happened was something different, but the same, but still different, and awesome. Sister One texted me and asked me to go to Bruff's with her for lunch. I totally accepted. So we went to lunch. We had burgers and bloody marys. My first one ever, and boy howdy was that thing pepperyyyy. Like, holy toledo. I was DRINKING the ranch dressing that came with my fries to cool that fire. Needless to say, I'm going to order a bloody mary at every bar I go to from here on out, because 1) I need to know that not all bloody marys require a Tums garnish in addition to the olives and lime, and 2) I love spicy things. Then, after our extended lunch (we were there for a good hour and a half) and some awesome convo with our waitress/friend, whom I will call Delilah, just because I can, we decided to head over to Glebo and Sister Two and Husband One's abode for some chill/booze time. Sister One also convinced me to rent Remember Me, that Robert Pattinson movie that WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE YOU HAVE TO WATCH IT OMG. So anyway, to kinda condense Sunday's happenings into something more manageable (because I am obv all about condensing things into manageable and non-brain-popping lengths of text) there was some boozing, loads of laughing, some shock and awe due to that blasted movie, and rain. Oh, and fireworks. And rain. And a crusty tattoo. Yech. Then, Sister One and I decided it was time to go home. So we went home, and then I slept. A lot.

Monday: Unproductive. As. Shit. 

So hey that's my weekend! Now I'm trying to think if there's anything ELSE I want to ramble about tonight. Right now I'm coming up blank, but that doesn't rule out some more word puke later on, tonight. The night is young, after all.

Until next time, stay smilin'!

Jimmy Dean, The Sausage King.

That's my new nickname. Deal with it.

*Glebo = Glee-watching party in Lebo. Glebo. Learn it. Love it.

lunch time

Mobile blogging for the win!

It's Thursday. It's my lunch break.

My day started off wonderfully. Well, as wonderfully as a day can start, when it starts at 5 a.m. Things were going great.

Now, because of an assuming co-worker and missing breakfast, paired with sleeplessness, today sucks.

Hanging with the Golden Sisters tonight is going to be just what the Dr. ordered. It's a shame the Trophy Wife can't be there...