Posts About Babies: The Train at the Epoch

I had a dream the other night.  In the dream, I was on a train, talking to someone I knew, but I don't know who it was now.  But in the dream, I knew them well.  They were telling me about something, but I don't remember the words now, either.  I remember that I knew exactly what they were saying to me, even though they had gotten something wrong, I knew what they meant when they said it. Like I said, I don't remember the specifics, but I remember it being remarkably clear to me at the time.  As the train rolled along somewhere on earth, somewhere that looked like everywhere, while looking completely like no where in particular, the train went off it's tracks and slid on a cliff side.  This train was one of those cargo trains that have the big sliding door along the side of the car, one you would see vagabonds and hobos traversing the countryside in.  Well, the train was off the tracks and on the edge of the cliff, and I was looking straight down the approximately 20-foot drop.  The car leaned off the edge of the cliff and as heading towards the ground.  I believe it crashed, and it probably would have maimed or killed me if it really happened.  I awoke upon the crash to the ground, and was immediately aware and taken aback at how realistic the dream was.  I managed to fall back asleep, but this was one of those dreams that when I finally woke up, I was drawn back to it.  What does it all mean?  Don't vivid dreams like this mean something?

My interpretation of it, is that this train is a metaphor for my life.  It's rolling along, on track.  A train can only go to it's destination, so you obviously know where the end will be and everything is under control.  The train flying off it's tracks and falling off a cliff is my fear that this life won't go as I thought it would.  It's my deep-rooted fear of what's about to happen with the baby coming.  I don't have that fear in my conscious self, but apparently I have the fear somewhere because I dreamed this.   Obviously having a baby is a big deal and a huge responsibility.  I feel like I'm ready for it, or as ready as any unsuspecting and untrained father-to-be can be.  Believe me, I've been warned enough by everyone nearly every day that everything will change significantly in the very near future, but they also say it's all for the better and I will be forever changed in a good way come April 17th-ish.  But I have no clue.  I have never experienced what they say is so monumental of a moment.  It's this fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of the very, very near future that caused that train to derail in my dream.

Am I afraid of fatherhood?  Maybe a little.  In the age of information, I can read about what to do as a parent until my face turns blue, but it won't tell me everything.  Maybe my fear is that my instincts (which I feel are still  pretty imature) won't tell me to do the right thing.  I'm not sure, but I know the dream was significant.  I think it means what I think it means.  There is not much I can do to control this, so I have to just not worry so much, I guess.  I think it'll be alright.  I think.

America's Next Greatest Whatever

I was just watching some NBC and saw a commercial for a new show they're premiering soon.  The show is called America's Next Great Restaurant.  It's a reality type show with judges and ideas and what not, and I assure you, this will not end up with the actual "America's Next Great Restaurant."  It never works that way.

First thought about the show, NBC, and TV in general, is running out of ideas and running out fast.  Reality is the one format you always know that networks throw out there for cheap ratings.  That's okay, everyone needs to make a buck, however you choose to do so, do whatever works.  But I am like a lot of other consumers out there that crave an attempt at originality in their entertainment choices.  But the fact that this show is a bad idea in the first place doesn't even begin to touch on what got me pissed.

I have grown to dislike the big chain restaurants.  I developed this feeling once I moved to Nashville.  I learned the importance of supporting the small businesses instead of the huge corporations.  Applebee's and Chilli's get enough love nationwide for me to want to eat there.  If I'm going to spend my dollar on food, I'd prefer a local business.  I don't think I need to explain this in too much of a detail, but I want you to know where I'm coming from here.  The quest of this new NBC show is to find a new idea to make into a chain restaurant.  Really?  That's your idea?  There will never, ever be one great American restaurant.  There are way too many restaurants in this country that are all a bit different but all the while completely similar to say one is better than all the rest.  It cannot be done.

But, people like a good elimination competition on television, don't they?  I don't totally hate these shows, but I used to like them a lot, a lot, more than I do now.  But it doesn't matter, whatever restaurant wins will probably not catch on because you can't force that sort of thing.

I know this whole thing will be a huge waste of time already, so I'm never going to watch that steaming pile.

There Is a Wrong Side

It used to be manual, once upon a time.

As I wrote about before, I like to eat toast for breakfast.  It's quick, cheap and easy, just like the women of Gwinn.  Also, It's delicious, but that's very unlike the women of Gwinn, but I digress.

One important thing I noticed when making toast it there is a clear front and back to a piece of toast.  Ever notice that?  I pull the toast out of the toaster and check both sides and determine which side is the side to put the topping on and which side is the back.  I can always tell which side is which.  In fact, some days I don't care which side to butter/peanut butter/nutella/jam, but I can clearly tell I'm putting the stuff on the back side of the toast, even though I also know that it really doesn't matter.  Sometimes I butter the darker side because it'll cover up the slightly burned area and make that taste better.  Sometimes I do the opposite, because the darker side is clearly the back.  But if I put the topping on the wrong side, I know, and it stays embedded in my head when I'm eating it.  Does this happen to you?

Also, when I pull out two slices of bread to make a sandwich, any type of sandwich, the parts that are together in the bread bag have to be facing each other when the sandwich is created.  To further explain what I mean, you cannot flip over one of the pieces of bread in the sandwich making process.  I think this is borderline OCD, but I don't care, it's important to me.  I go through painstaking measures to make sure the bread stays in it's original direction out of the bag.  If not, you just have an inside out sandwich.  It's like putting all the toppings on the top of two slices of bread.  It's just out of order.

I've also made toast where I pulled it out and both sides are looking like the back.  I can't decide, but just go with it, even though I'm pretty sure I'm making the wrong decision, and I'm buttering the back.  It's just a little something else that'll drive me to drinking.

Enjoy your toast, but don't butter the wrong side.  It'll ruin your day.

Two-Hundred

This is a milestone post for me.  I was hitting the "new post" button on the blogger dashboard when I noticed right above the button was a little stat saying I had done 199 posts.  That would mean that this is my 200th post. From March 13th, 2009, the day I created this blog, to today, February 20th, 2011, there have been 710 days, and 101 weeks (rounded down.)  That's 200 posts in 100 weeks, which according to my Negaunee education would be about 2 posts a week, which is about the minimum I wanted to post when I started to kick this thing into high gear roughly a year ago.

So I wanted to take this time to congratulate myself for a job well done.  I rule hard, and it's clear to see.  Thanks for taking the time to read my meanderings and commenting.  It means a lot.  In fact, if no one read this, I would probably still post stupid shit anyway, because it's sort of therapeutic.  But yeah, I'm happy with 200 posts, and I hope to see 1,000 someday.

Reality Check

Well, I haven't written in over a week, and I told you I probably wouldn't.  However, I only said I wouldn't be writing over the weekend, where I had an amazing time back home in the great snowy north.  But then I didn't write all week either, and there's really no excuse for this, except I was pretty lazy.  Well, I'm back to tell you all about it, whatever "it" happens to be.

No matter how much fun I had back home, the whole thing gets put into perspective when you get news that a good friend has come down with a serious illness.  My dear friend Chris was diagnosed with Meningitis, which last I checked, can cause serious, long-lasting physical harm, and can even cause death.  I was always aware of the sickness, but never really knew much about it, and to be honest, I still really don't.  The first time I was made aware of the severity of the illness was when I was reading the extremely depressing website called www.mydeathspace.com.  On that site, there was a Myspace of a young man, I believe he was a college student, that had died very, very suddenly from Meningitis.  This shocked me, because he was just sick, and no one would have thought it was as serious as it turned out to be.  Just a healthy dude, and suddenly sick, and suddenly dead.  Scared the shit out of me.

Well one of my close friends lives in Lansing, MI, where they are starting their family together.  When I got home from my vacation, or maybe it was when we were traveling home, I was informed that he has Meningitis and was in the hospital.  They didn't know if it was viral or bacterial at the time, and I knew from that research before that the viral one was the deadly one, but that either way, this was not a good thing.  All of a sudden, everything I had just done, all the good times I had just had back home was absolutely secondary to what the young Wright family was going through.  What I'm ashamed of is my immediate non-response to the situation. You see, we're all connected from everything like Facebook and Twitter, all the way down to good old text messaging and phone calls.  There is no excuse for me not to send my best wishes and thoughts and prayers to Chris or Cindy.  What the fuck was I thinking?  I think part of me was scarred shitless about the whole thing, so I froze.  I don't know, but I felt/feel badly.  I'm sure it doesn't matter, as my response is the least of their or my concerns.  But I still feel like I want to do something.

What I really want to do is give Chris and Cindy and Vada a huge hug.  I want to be there with them to help out, even if I don't know if there's much I could do.  It just makes you realize how lucky we all are to have friends and family and health and happiness.  It's yet another reminder to never take life for granted, because things happen out of the blue.  The fact that Chris is up there in some hospital, not really doing all that well, it makes me so sad to think about.  How can Chris not be his normal self?  It's so scary.  This was my best friend for years and years.

I don't know about God and all that, but if there is a god of some sort, please, I beg you, be nice.  If there isn't, I don't know who to look to.  We all feel like we need a higher being to take care of us in these situations.  I guess that's what we all need sometimes, to know, or hope, that this thing we cannot control is being controlled by someone that has the power to make it right or at least make it comfortable.  I thank the doctors that are taking care of Chris.  I don't know all the details, but I assure you, whatever they are doing to help him, they are truly wonderful people who get to save a life of a friend and a father and a brother and a son, and that's their job.  My job consists of doing nothing and getting a paycheck for it.  These people have made a decision to save lives on a daily basis.  That's pretty fucking sweet.

I don't know what else to say, but I think we should all pray for Chris and Cindy, for whatever good it may do. They are going through a lot right now.  I just want everything to be normal again, and I'm sure they do, too.  I hope that day comes sooner rather than later.  

This will probably be short, and also slightly irritating. Why, you ask? Because right now, I'm blogging on an iPhone. Is this a terrible idea? Maybe. But so far so good. Also, I'm typing one-handed, which I'm sure would be easy for some who have had a lot PF practice in chatrooms across the Internet. Bit this is different. It's kinda cool, actually.

So I just wanted to stop by and say hello, and that I will be back with a proper post soon enough. I will be out of town this weekend, so blogging will be the least of my concerns. But, you never know.

Peace, y'all.

I Like the Super Bowl

On January 28th, 1990, I was an impressionable 6-year-old boy, with a growing love for the game of American Football.  My father was a big Green Bay Packer fan, and like any good son, so was I.  But on that day, I witnessed greatness.  That was the day that Super Bowl XXIV, or 24 if you don't know your Roman Numerals. In that game, I witnessed Joe Montana throw touchdown pass after touchdown pass against the Denver Broncos, and from that day forward, I was a fan of the San Fransisco 49ers.  Joe Montana was my hero, and I still have my posters that I had gotten from the era rolled up in a closet in our apartment.

I have had a long-running off and on relationship with the Green Bay Packers.  I started to detest the team when they kept beating my beloved 49ers in playoff game after playoff game.  It was their dominance over my team that caused me to strongly dislike the team.  After a while, I grew out of that phase, because it didn't really matter.  Now I'm a casual observer of the team from northern Wisconsin.  And today, as a good son once again, I will root for the Green Bay Packers in tonight's Super Bowl XLV.  Because the Packers winning a championship means so much to the fans, and I have a lot of friends that are fans of the team.  I understand what it feels like to watch your team win it all, even though it's been since 1994 that my team last accomplished the feat.  In fact, the Packers have won a title more recently than my team has (1996).  But still, whenever you get the chance to win the championship, you must relish it.

I mention the date above, the day I became a fan of the 49ers, because I always wonder what kid, somewhere in the world will be watching a game, and discover their hero.  Their sports hero that they will keep a poster in their closet until they have outgrown the days of putting sports posters up in their bedrooms.  Somewhere, a kid will see either Aaron Rodgers or perhaps Ben Rothlesberger or any another player tonight, and witness one of these men do something great, and forever be affected.  Some kid somewhere will remember tonight for the rest of their lives, the same way I remember Joe Montana carving up the Broncos on that fateful night in New Orleans.  You don't have to be a fan of the most local team around.  You can idolize anyone you want.

Tonight, the Green Bay Packers and the Pittsburgh Steelers will do battle for the Lombardi Trophy in Dallas, TX.  The Super Bowl always holds a special place in my heart, mainly because I haven't missed one since that game in 1990.  I've watched every second of every Super Bowl, and I remember where I was for every one of them, as well.  I watched most of these Super Bowls with my father, and that's something I regret not being able to do here in Tennessee.  But weather I'm on my couch with my wife and my unborn child and my good friend Sean, or if I was at my dads, it does not matter.  I will have a good time watching the Super Bowl, and as history would indicate, I will never forget where I was to watch Super Bowl XLV.  But no matter the outcome, I will never forget that night where I fell in love with Joe Montana.

P-I-Z-Z-A

This, please

A week straight of posts.  Pretty good, eh?

I tend to eat a straight diet of pizza.  I cannot help this.  It's quick, delicious, relatively cheap, and you can easily get it vegetarian.  I don't even think days like yesterday are all that abnormal.  I ate pizza for lunch, then ate pizza again for dinner.  One was frozen, one was fresh.  One was just okay, one was amazing.

This morning, I ate pizza for breakfast.  I would like to eat pizza tomorrow.  I wouldn't mind eating pizza for dinner tonight.  You get the idea.

I know pizza is not very good for you.  I don't even care anymore.  I'm so defeated in my attempt to eat better that I just don't care anymore.  I honestly can't fathom eating healthy right now.

I have nothing else really to say.

I'd Like To Have A Word With You

I love the game of Scrabble. I really do. I didn't before, because words are hard sometimes. You have to get your friends or family together to play, and sometimes, that's not that easy. Well, thanks to modern technology, you can play "Scrabble" with your friends while being miles and miles away from each other.

I'm talking about Words with Friends. It's an iPhone (or iPod Touch) game that allows you to play "Scrabble" with anyone that wants to play with you. I'm currently in games with people in Michigan, Ohio, Florida, Tennessee, and Wisconsin. Some of the people I'm playing against I know and are real friends, and some I have never met. I first got the game because a guy that works here saw that I have an iPhone and asked if I played. I said no, but I'll download the free app. We played some games, and then I got my brother and wife in on the action. Soon enough, I was playing against all kinds of people, from Pard, to a guy in Florida named Brandon I never met, but is a friend of a friend.

On Thanksgiving, the music editor of Alternative Press Magazine asked if anyone out there played Words With Friends, and if they would like to play him. So, I started a game, and now I play him regularly! That's pretty fuckin' neat-o if you ask me. I was on one of my favorite sites the other day On The Forecheck, and I was in one of the message boards when someone begged the question if anyone played. I responded, and now I'm playing against some dude here in Tennessee, who's handle on OTF is LuvthePreds.

So, now I'm playing like, six different games of Words with all sorts of people, and I love it. If you have an iPhone (LIKE ONE OF MY REGULAR READERS) and still don't play, I suggest you do. It's a lot of fun. Just play a word whenever you feel like it. Some games I have played have lasted a month or longer! It's something to do while fiddling with your phone, which if you're like me, you do often. It's just another way to stay connected with your friends. Words with Friends. The best app on my iPhone.

my username is bPerala. start one up, if you'd like. You'll probably beat me.

Clean as a Whistle

Does this look clean to you?

There are certain phrases we all use from time to time in our daily lives.  Some of the phrases are good and relevant, and some are not, even though we continue to use them.  Some phrases have lost their meaning over time, yet we still use them to describe things, and we all know what you mean.

The one phrase I can think of came up in convorsation with my lovely wife the other day.  I said something, and I don't remember what it was now, but something was "clean as a whistle."  Now, I'm not sure I know anyone who is in the buisness of cleaning whistles, but I'm sure somewhere there is someone who specialized in this practice.  I don't own any whistles, but I would imagine that they would work better if it was clean, don't you think?  I said, "clean as a whistle" and my wife said, "how clean is that?  Are whistles clean?"  I had never thought of it.  I just said the phrase because that's what you say when things are clean, right?

There are a number of sayings like that that the origins of said phrases are long forgotten, but I don't know of any others off the top of my head.

And if you have a whistle, and you use one, like a referee, I'm sure it's not that clean, unless you take steps to actively clean your whistle.  You put that thing in your mouth, and last I checked, your mouth has germs.  I wouldn't use someone elses used whistle, because I doubt it would actually be clean.  So the phrase "clean as a whistle" is probably the dumbest phrase of all time.

It just doesn't make any sense.

This Really Sucks

I wonder if a Dyson vacuum is really as great as you think it would be? I mean, it costs like, $400. It must be a pretty great vacuum. We have a shitty vacuum at home. It's a Bissel, and the only Bissel's I had ever seen were like, wet-vacs, or whatever. But we took some money we got, weather it was bridal shower money or wedding money or whatever it was, and bought a new vacuum back in either late 2008 or early 2009 to replace our aging, hand-me-down Oreck.

At first, I was amazed at how much shit this new vacuum could suck up. I was thrilled at our purchase. I though "there aint' no better vacuum in this land." Two years later, I can't wait to invest in a new one. You see, this particular vacuum has a series of filters and containers and other things as well, that just get clogged up with dog hair, and this weird powder shit that's in our floor of or apartment. It's like, drywall or something, that just gets clogged up in droves every time I vacuum. It pisses me off, and makes me think there has to be a better way. I mean, after about five vacuum jobs, the filters and what-nots have to be rinsed and completely dried before I can vacuum again. What a fucking headache. I thought getting rid of a vacuum that used bags to collect the shit was a great idea, but turns out, it's totally not. Our vacuum sucks, and I want a new one.

This brings me back to the Dyson. They have the commercials with the British buy talking about how his vacuum "Never loses suction. Evaa." I'm like, "really? Do want."

$400 for a vacuum? Is it that important? Do you know how many hockey tickets I could buy with that money? (By the way, that's my new standard of assessing finances and if things are a waste of money, to compare them to hockey tickets. Because let's face it, I'd rather go to a hockey game) That's like, three months worth of car insurance. That's like, an entire paycheck when I first started working at the casino (not really). Perhaps their advertising has worked on me, but when I walk past the vacuum isle at the store, I notice the Dyson. I want the Dyson. I need the Dyson. Because there has to be a better way to vacuum than our shitty Bissel.

the Nail and the Clipper

I have a real problem with fingernails, especially when they are too long or too short. My fingernails used to get really long when I was younger, because I hated the feeling of when they were freshly cut and were all sharp and rigid. I also hate when they are long, but I figured I'd rather have them too long than too short. Now, I'm the opposite. I'd rather have them trimmed, but sometimes I forget. Today, I forgot to trim them. Well, not just today, they've needed to be cut for a few days now, but I don't think of it until I'm no where near my nail clippers. Now there's nothing I can do about it for a while.

I like to cut my nails after a shower, because they're soft. I think this helps cut down (pun intended) on the sharpness you get when you cut them when they're dry. Not sure, but it seems to work for me.

You know what else sucks? When you cut the nail too short, and it's kinda painful. Anyway...

Another weird thing I have about nails and fingers in general, is I hate touching paper. Is that weird? Like, I knew a guy I used to work with that hated cotton balls. Hated even thinking about cotton balls. Others, like my lovely wife, don't like the feeling, or even the sight, of a fork on teeth. That one doesn't bother me as much, but me and paper, we're like that. I fucking hate touching paper. Even with the side of my hand, like when I'm writing something on paper. I hate it. Or when someone is trying to get two pieces of paper unstuck, UGH. I have to turn my head and close my eyes. It just gives me the creeps. I'm pretty sure my hatred of paper stems from my general dislike of fingernails, because the intensity of the dislike comes and goes. I can deal with paper sometimes, and sometimes I cannot. Nails on paper is like nails on a chalkboard. If a restaurant has paper place mats, ugh, I don't even want to sit there. And that little paper napkin ring that I have to peel off to get to my paper napkin, UGH! Knock it off with all the paper, society.

I know there are people out there that can chew their nails off, and that bothers me too. Getting moisture under the fingernail? UGH! Gross. And then it's all sharp. UGH! No, for me, I'll use the clippers. Plus, my teeth don't line up in the front so I can't bite them anyway.

Fingernails. I fucking hate em'.