Cousin Michael

I haven't written on my blog in quite sometime and I believe that it's because my life has calmed down some. I've found the greatest girl, my job is extremely busy and going really well and we've bought a house, plan on building a lanai (screened in porch for my non Floridian peeps) to watch college football on and keep the mosquitos out, for the most part.  As I looked back on previous posts, unfortunately most of the more recent ones are about saying goodbye to a loved one. Today is going to be no different.

My mothers family is wonderful. She has such a great Italian family. Back when I was just a wee tot, the holidays were an event. My grandmother has a sister and three brothers. I wasn't lucky enough to be around to enjoy Uncle Sonny, but i'm extremely fortunate to have known and been loved by my late Uncle Nick, and can't say enough about my Uncle Rocco, that man is beyond words the best man in the world. Which brings me to my Aunt Elia, the matriarch of our family. When I say that you don't know love until you're love by Aunt Elia is an understatement. I cannot even put into words how much the woman loves her family. Just an extraordinary person. Uncle Nick has three children, two boys and a girl, Aunt Elia has three boys and my grandma had my mom. the seven of them were raised together and are all, in my mind, like siblings. Well today, my Aunt Elia lost one of her three boys, my mom lost one of her "brothers" and the world lost one of the finest individuals I knew. My cousin Michael. My cousin Michael and that's how I referred to him even though he is officially my mothers cousin, lived in Deerfield Beach, Florida. The east coast, between Fort Lauderdale and West Palm Beach, and has for as long as I can remember. The man was always there with a card for everything. When Rachael and I bought our house, the first piece of mail was from cousin Michael. Birthdays,  holidays, a funny picture or article that made him think of me were always waiting for me. (Side note: the first text was from his brother cousin Bobby. Just me saying what good people they are)

I just heard from mother the other day that cousin Michael was planning a trip to the gulf coast to see our house and visit Uncle Rocco and me. I have a work trip in October which takes me to West Palm Beach and I was looking forward to finally getting to visit him.

Today my family lost a great man, one that, like his mother, has a huge heart and even bigger smile. Thank you for always being wonderful to me, cousin Michael. You will always be thought of so very fondly and I will miss greatly the notes, the occasional and extremely unnecessary twenty-thirty-forty bucks, whatever it was. Say hi to Aunt Dolly (my grandma) and Uncle Nick for me please!!! I will miss you tremendously. I can rest easy knowing your suffering is over. Rest in peace cousin Michael!!!

Love, Casey

New Home...New World

So I decided to write on this thing because of www.wanderinglavignes.blogspot.com pretty much called me out. You see, I used to use this thing to pass along all of my "antics" and experiences. Tucker Max has a blog and he's a bit over the top with his experiences. I didn't want to do that, just wanted to pass along my stories. Ever since college, things always seemed to happen to me, probably because of me and my friends and I liked to tell the tales. I've never had any difficulty making fun of myself. It's when others try to make fun of me do I get a little defensive, but I guess it's my fault for sharing my experiences or stories with the world with no care.

So I wrote my last blog for my father, who is my hero, idol, mentor, friend, and every other possible thing you could think of. My parents are wonderful people and they happen to be in Florida currently visiting me. Now most of my people know that my parents are the proudest grandparents of the three best nieces and nephew someone could have, so a lot of their time is spent driving up to Massachusetts to visit them. Understandably so. But I've "complained" in the past that their other son lives where it is currently 82 degrees in FEBRUARY! But the caveat is, it's a flight, hotel, rental car trip, and of course they always buy me something. That's the wonderfulness of my parental units. Whereas, they can drive three hours + to Ole Dirty's house to visit the kids...and my brother and sis-in-law as well. So I really enjoy it and embrace when my folks come to town. Of which, they are here now.

I tell you that, Mr. Blog-thing to tell you that I do, in fact, have a new home. Gone is Davis Islands near downtown Tampa, and hello to the suburbs. I'm sure Beef and -Ette can tell you that the ride to the burbs from downtown Tampa is about 25 miles or so. What's funny about Florida, or this area in particular, is that we're just one town north of Tampa. It happens to be in a different county, but it's still just three miles from the line. The house is awesome, and the wonderful Miss and I are decorating feverishly and cleaning, and painting (or having the insides painted) and I've now slept here for three nights and it's pretty solid.

I will really miss the Davis Islands life and the fact that I could walk to 7-11 to buy a twelve pack of beer to start my night of debauchery. Now I have to drive to Publix or the liquor store. We have great neighbors and we're already getting acclimated to the life in the burbs.

We have plenty of room now, including two spare bedrooms and even a fouton (it's not here yet, we're working on washer and dryer and lawn mower first). It'll be very comfortable for visitors, and really that's what I'm saying in this post: Come Visit!

Hope to continue my messages here shortly with new antics of neighborhood life!

!THANK YOU!

I'm late in getting this out, but didn't want it to go unsaid.

Thank you...
...for making me the man I am today (albeit that may be scary)
...for giving me discipline, and the trait to always be on time, because if I'm not, I don't eat dinner!
...for not throwing out my citation(s) from Athens, Ga. and laughing at the impending story
...for always dry cleaning my suits for my abundance of weddings.
...for the bagels, subs, french toast, snapple, bottled water, steak, A1...etc, the list would go on for days.
...for always coming to see my shows(even at Clemson), sporting events, and always just being there!
...for always listening to my stories.
...for laughing at my antics.(with hopes that maybe I remind you of you in your younger days).
...for always being there when I need a dime...or a twenty.
...for always getting me where I need to go.
...for putting the insurance and registration in the glove box for me when I'm in NJ.
...for letting me use your car when I'm in NJ.
...for letting me use the gas card when I'm in NJ.
...for being my hero.
...for being my most favorite idol in the world.
...for being the reason I believe in heros.
...for everything.
...for being the best father anyone could ever have.
...for understanding that I've left out so many things in this little note.
...for always supporting everything I do, even if you don't agree with it.
...for always telling me that you didn't care what I did...as long as I had health insurance.
...for being my dad!

I love you dad! Happy (belated) Father's Day! Hope it was full of arts and crafts...even though that should have been MOTHER'S Day, not your day. But that's why you're the best patriarch. Because you're willing to make everyone around you happy by just being you. So willing, gracious, and generous! I don't say it enough, but Thank You Dad! For being you!

Love,

Deuce (because I'm the Sh%$!)

That Stuff Doesn't Happen To Me...

Once again, I'm going to apologize in advance for this note. I know it's been awhile since I've written on here and most of the time I try to bring a smile to my readers faces, and even sometimes give myself a chuckle at some of my antics, and other times I use this forum as a way to get some things out. This is one of the latter times. Also apologize that I'm probably going to be all over the place with this because I'm going from memory and pretty much still in shock.

I have extended family in the military. My fathers first cousin (could be wrong with exacts, but that is really not important) John McHugh of the famed Caldwell, NJ McHugh Family (at least in my mind they're famous!) was killed yesterday by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan. My facts may be a little tainted, but he was a high-ranking official in the US Army, graduate of West Point, and 14 years my senior, just over there for some intelligence work for our government. Don't know exacts, but know that his job was finished and he was headed back to the airport in a convoy to head to another part of Afghanistan to hang out with his son, who is also stationed in Afghanistan. My mom had more information, but I was still in so much shock that it hit so close to home.

I think it would be an understatement if I said I LOVE the McHugh family! There are no better people in the world. I can honestly say that. I know, I know, glorious words always are easier found in time of grief, but this is when I started thinking about his family.

I remember as a kid, going to the McHugh compound in Caldwell for family reunions and playing wiffle ball till the wee hours of the evening with my extended cousins, and all three of the McHugh boys, even though they were older (John being 14 years older and he was the baby) would always be good to throw a crazy curveball for all of us kids to marvel at. Always there with the big hit that would go as high as the trees, and really just have there for all of us to look up to. And I really, really, really, truly did. I believe I read at: http://jeffbradleyblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/colonel-john-mchugh-1963-2020.html that he spent 24 years in service to our country. The years run together for me, but I remember when he went away to school at West Point, and even went up with my father and his father, Jim, to watch John play goalie for the Cadets. He was truly an idol of mine. All three of the brothers (Jim and Frank. I was the ring bearer at Jims wedding) are. Doesn't hurt that mom and dad are probably, without a doubt, the nicest, most caring people in the world as well. You'll still see dad Jim at SHP basketball games even to this day. I then remember when John moved to Alabama and then was sent over to Desert Storm and Desert Shield and not thinking anything of it. I just had so much faith (and probably ignorance) that he would be okay and would be home safe and sound.

I was at some sort of extended family function a few years ago, probably a graduation of some sort over at Johns oldest brothers house when I saw John again with his wife and (at least) four children (he leaves 5), and I still remember the bright smile I get when I see the McHugh family, any of them, but being that John had been away a bunch because of his travels with the armed service, it was awesome to see him and his wife and "meet" his now mostly grown children. They were just little rugrats while the rest of us ran around the back yard at the McHugh house all those years ago. It was so good to see him, and I took for granted that I'd see him the "next time." The next time there was a family reunion, or a wedding, or something where the extended family would all be together. Unfortunately I won't get that chance again.

I'm going to sound really selfish and say that I always thought this couldn't, wouldn't happen to my family. Although John and I weren't the closest of cousins (2nd, 3rd, once-removed, what have you), this hit home hard. I send my dearest, most sincere condolences to his mom and dad, wife, children, (brand new) grandchild, brothers, sister, in-laws, nieces and nephews. There's a bunch of people, too many to name, and I'm sure I'd forget someone in the mix. He was always amazing with me. Always interested in what was going on in my life, where I was at the moment and how I was doing. Of course, I was just as inquisitive of him. The conversations always came back to sports and memories. He was larger than life to me. He truly was.

I've always heard that it's wrong to have idols, but I believe that whoever I heard that from didn't know John McHugh. I can truly tell you that my love of sports grew as strong as it is in that backyard as a kid. I can tell you that it was with the help of John McHugh that I have the love and desire for the world of sport. I can tell you that yesterday, I lost an idol.

Rest in Peace U.S. Army Colonel John McHugh (1963-2010) Thank you for being our Superman and serving and protecting our great country! You will be severely missed by all that know you and all that love you.

Vegas Baby, Vegas!

I knew that once I got back from Vegas, despite the slogan, "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," I was going to write something about the trip, and it's taken me two days to really figure out what I was going to say. What part of the story was I going to tell? As I sit down to type this in the wee hours of the evening I still have no ideas. Partially because there's a day that was completely lost for me, and I have the pictures to prove it. Apparently, I was pretty tired most of the trip. These are the type of trips that take forever to get here and then are over way too quick.

I've been looking forward to Cradle Robber(not so true anymore, maybe a name change is in the future)'s Bachelor Party for months, especially once I heard it was out in Vegas. I really like Vegas. I'm not the big gambler, but I am a big debauchery fan, and Vegas is the city of debaucherous behavior. Got out there on Thursday late in the evening after a full day of work and met the boys, Hunter, AYB3, Cookie, Laugh, and lil'Beef (met him at the airport) at the Hard Rock, where we stayed and immediately was handed a beer. I knew from experience, that I needed to tread lightly on that Thursday evening in order to be coherent for the rest of the trip. So by 2am, Vegas time, I was going to hit the sack and get ready for a big (didn't know it at the time, but HUGE Friday.

Friday started with some breakfast and a bud light. I figured that it was noon on the east coast and my body had not complete bought into the three-hour difference quite yet. At least that's how I justified it. Nothing like a breakfast quesadilla and a beer. I won't go into too many details about the rest of the day, but it did involve the pool, a bucket of beer, 50 oz. beers for lunch, and Mei, even though it was April. Ok, that was an inside joke, but I'll let you all in. Mei was our dealer at Palace Station. She loved taking our money and smiled all the while. I know I said that I'm not a big gambler, but I guess the gumbo and two 50 oz beers found me sitting at a blackjack table with the boys. Now (the former)Smoke, and StripperLuvr joined the party. Smoke doesn't double down, just in case you wanted to know. "It doesn't work for me..." I think was the exact quote. I was up almost $200 basically because of it, but to each his own, I guess. Of course, I gave the rest back to Mei, but such is life.

Burger Bar at Mandalay Bay was the next stop. At this point, I'm not really sure how we got there, but I know we were packed into a cab, and it was the best cab ride of the weekend. I wish I could recount some of the gems that were said in that car, but for some reason, I can't. For some reason, I decided it would be a good idea to get up 25 times to use the restroom. The rest is a little blurry, but it quickly turned into the twillight zone. I found myself walking around Mandalay Bay and ended up outside, but having no idea how I got there. Then would ask people where the Burger Bar was and was on an employee only elevator as well. Finally, after about an hour or so (felt like three days in my mind), I made it back to the burger bar with the boys. As we left there, I guess I was tired, by the looks of it, and I think the carpet was wet. I didn't want Robber to get his shoes wet, so I gave up the body and became a bridge for him. That's what friends do! Well, apparently at the end of the evening, I thought that the floor was wet near our room (after my room key failed to work) and didn't want anyone elses feet getting wet (and no, I did not urinate on myself, don't start!) Just looking out for my fellow man!

Woke up Saturday morning, and as expected, I had no idea whose room I was in. Why someone was snoring on the floor below (as Hunt and Smoke, who I was supposed to be in a room with, do not snore, FYI) Figured out I was in Robber and Laugh's room. Hunt, Smoke and I decided we needed to walk the strip a little bit, and I thought it'd be a good idea to put up some fake gang signs in my picture in front of the Bellagio. Was not feeling too hot at the time. The half bagel I ate didn't quite hit the spot. The boys proceded to hit the pool in the early afternoon, and after a nap, I joined them, not feeling my best. Another shower, Santa coming to our room as we were getting ready, and a plethora of fellas that were not sober got me excited for the evening at hand. I'm not in Vegas that often, it was time to suck it up and deal. I didn't win any asshole awards for my antics on Saturday night, but I quickly joined the boys in the festive mood, was feeling better, and let the night commence!

Won't go into too many details about Saturday night. It was just filled with loads of laughs and tremendous good times that ended with nipple in the eye. Well, not exactly my eye, but StripperLuvr had plenty of nipple in his eye for the entire city to see. I was seated rather closely to him, and thought he was going to marry the girl that was eyeing him up from the stage as she "performed." But I digress...

Apparently, lil'Beef had 1 or 26 too many vodka cranberrys because (as seen on www.wanderinglavignes.blogspot.com), he spent a lot of Sunday as I did on Saturday. Except on this day everyone, except the two of us were already on their way back to the east coast and we had the day to essentially walk around, get In-N-Out (famed west coast fast food restaurant), and enjoy the sights. That was not the case at all, as we went to the airport with plenty of time to spare. All in all, it was a great trip with the boys. One of my absolute favorite things is the after email train that begins with stories and pictures from the weekend, and they have been many of them to sit back and laugh at. Thankfully, I'm fully back to my normal self. May not have a beer for a week or so...or Friday, but it was well worth it. Hope the boys had a great trip as well, and I believe they did, from the sounds of it.

I've said too much already. They should rename the slogan, especially with all of the technology nowadays, "Most of the stuff that happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, unless there is camera phones close by..."

Everyone's Gone...

So I've been up this morning since 5:15. A true slap in the face that the weekend was officially over, albeit, I worked yesterday, but my last guest has vacated the premises and it's back to "normal life." Citizen flew back to Montana this morning, and I'm pretty sure I always write about how I get sad when people leave me, but this time, I got sad when everyone left...oh wait, I just said that. Anyway, on to the weekend that was.

Gasparilla is the annual Pirate Day in Tampa, hence the nickname of the NFL team here in town. The festival is a celebration of famed pirate Jose Gaspar (about as real as the Tooth Fairy, sorry kids. I won't say Santa Claus, because the verdict's still out on that one. If I find out he's a sham, I'll let you know), pillaging the city and providing a little bit of unrest for a few hours. The Mayor surrenders the key to the city to Mr. Gaspar, and he does to the city what he will, and then at the end of the day, the Mayor gets it back and order is restored. Or something like that. I've never seen either the handing over of the key, or the end of the parade...er, the Mayor wrestling it back from the Pirates. The day starts like any other here on the weekend, with a huge breakfast made by my neighbors and there may be an adult beverage or two involved, and the revelry begins and lasts for as long as you can. The first part is the "Floatilla" where the invasion begins. Boats lead "The Gaspar" into the city. (see www.wanderinglavignes.blogspot.com for pictures of the boats, and for a good outsiders view of our party) Sidebar here: I was in bed by 11, and probably could have been there by 8.

Beef, -ette, Citizen and 'Steens all invaded my apartment this weekend and I could not have asked for a better group. -ette was a little skeptical at first because of the stories from years past and didn't know she could hang. She did, and then some! My dishes are clean because of her and 'Steens, ha. Ok, that's not why she could hang, but it was because of her and lil Beef that I was able to add to the breakfast. I went to the store and got the ingredients to a SHP "reunion" staple. The famed Hunter-family breakfast caserole. It was a big hit, apparently by the fact that there was none left when we got back from the boat parade.

But the real reason to the message here today was the fact that I had four great friends come to town, spend their hard earned money to come hang out with me and have a good little vacation from reality for a weekend and to be a little sappy for a second, I really appreciate that greatly. I'm not sure I said that when they were here or when they were leaving, but I love having people here, and the people that I had here were four of the absolute finest I could ask for. Hadn't seen 'Steens since '03, Citizen since last year to the week, and the lil Beefs since Christmas time. The buildup is always amazing. Tickets were bought months in advance (what's that all about? Buying tickets early??? haha), and talk of the visit were rampant, especially between 'Steens, Polly Jo and I. (More on that in a minute.) Then the weekend gets here, 'Steens is in on Thursday and then the rest of the crew on Friday and it's on. I guess it's the go-go-go attitude of the weekend that makes it fly by, but I woke up Sunday morning, looked at 'Steens and the Clan de la Beef and realized that it was over. Just like that. Then at the airport, I found myself hanging my head and dragging my feet after everyone was off. There was a little bit of dust in the Tampa Airport, but not enough to water the eyes, just put a little lump in the throat. When 'Steens was about to go through, she looked at me and said, "I don't know when we're going to see each other again..." to which I responded, "next time! We'll see each other next time." I was happy with my response, until the reality of the situation hit and I realized that I'm not sure when next time will be. Hopefully sooner rather than later, and I believe that to be the case...at least I hope so. I know I'll see the Beef Clan sooner rather than later, and hope that Citizen moves somewhere closer to the east coast or at least to a place that doesn't take 16 connection flights to get to, but I'll at least see him next year, and he knows he's always got a "home" here in Tampa. For now, I can't wait to have to say that I'll see you "next time..." the next time!

So much fun was had, but that was not without some bad news, or not so good news. Polly Jo was slated to come to the festivities and would have reconnected with 'Steens for the first time in 8 years (I think). She was hit by a car in Washington D.C. the saturday before she was to come here while stepping off a curb. I don't know all the details of the horrible accident, but the one thing I do know, and the one amazing thing that came out of it is that she's ok. I use ok, and not great, because I'm not sure you initially come out of that "great," but I know that she was not nearly as injured as she could have been, and for that, I'm tremendously greatful! Polly Jo, you were missed tremendously! Here's to hoping for a speedy recovery and the next debaucherous venture with 'Steens, you and I!

Really looking forward to "NEXT TIME!!!"

(500) Days of...$%@#!!!

Today is Martin Luther King Day. A day that I think about every year. I am very sentimental, and I believe greatly in everything that the man stood for and everything he did for equality and civil rights, but also because when I was a student at Clemson, we NEVER had the day off! I remember walking to class one of the first days of school back in August 1995 and seeing "that flag" and thinking about how I was taught about the "stars and bars" back in New Jersey. I couldn't believe that people still flew those flags, especially kids my own age, in their dorm rooms. I digress because I'm not here to spew my true feelings on that thing, I'm here to talk about ...um...well, I'm not really sure what I'm here to talk about. Oh yeah, I remember now. I didn't have the day off today. Mind you, all of the schools in Florida are closed today, as well as the post office, the stock market, etc., but not us. I'm not complaining at all. We were expected, and I did, to clean our "offices" and catch up on paperwork and update plans and really do busy work for the majority of the day. Needless to say, I thought I'd be done with all that by noon, pack up some boxes, clean the rest of my pig-sty and sit on the couch to watch a movie. (500) Days of Summer. We don't have to get into the fact that I am, yet again, watching a pseudo chick-flick! It's what I do. How I roll...oh wait, that phrase is so 2009! (or 2006 as I have recently read) Didn't happen yet, but it will. Probably at 4pm or so. I'm sure I'll have an update on it and how it relates to my life, like all sappy romantic love stories that really have nothing to do with my life, as I sit on my couch with swollen feet, eating bon-bons.

On a sad note, the Clemson family lost a great, great person yesterday. I'm sure my fellow Clemsonians have, by now, heard the news that Gaines Adams has passed away of an enlarged heart. Everything that I've read on the man vividly shows what a huge heart that he did have, aside from the apparent genetic defect. I ran across Gaines Adams at Clemson one time in the theater at Clemson in 2003 when I was working there as the Assistant Technical Director. Many athletes took theater 210, or theater appreciation, for those that did not attend Clemson. He did not take that class while I was there, he was a sophomore (redshirt freshman in football) at that point and I'm sure he was taking higher level PRTM classes (that's Parks, Recreation, Tourism Management, or Party Right Through Man as was known by Clemson-ites as well), as his major, I believe was Sports Management. Many football players did, though, take "210" and therefore were required to put in hours to satisfy part of the syllabus. A number of athletes were therefore under my supervision. I loved this, because of my love for Clemson and its athletic programs. I was especially fond of the baseball players, because they were the most personable and likable for that matter. But one day, I believe it was in the spring semester, after football season was over a gentle 6'5" 255 pound man came into the shop and asked if we could use an extra set of hands on building of a set. I told him to fill out a time sheet and he started doing that, and then I said, "what class are you taking?" He looked at me with a quizzical look on his face and said, "I'm just here to lend a hand, I'm not doing this for credit." I was in shock. No one came in to just lend a hand. No one came in to not get credit or hours or whatever. It finally hit me at about an hour into the job that this was Gaines Adams, the STUD Defensive End for the football team that I just got finished watching. He was an absolutely beast on the field and here he was turning some screws for me in the Bellamy Theater, because he wanted to help. Unfortunately, maybe it was me, but that was the first and last time that he was in the theater that semester, to my knowledge. He was an amazing person, and really left a lasting impression on me. After the hours were up, I had to basically tell him to go home, because I was leaving and going to be turning the lights out. He got up, handed me the drill, extended his hand and thanked me for letting him help out. I looked at him, knowing who he was, and he, knowing I knew who he was and said, "no, thank you for being here and for being you." Now, people that know me, know I usually throw the "thank you for being you..." line out a lot. This time was different. He didn't have to be at the theater that day. I'm sure he could've been in the weight room, or studying film, or reading some textbooks, or writing a paper as I know people in that major had to do a lot of, but no, he was making risers and drilling screws into platform legs. What seems so insignificant at the time comes rushing back on a day like yesterday when my cell phone was blazing with, what seemed like, endless text messages from folks trying to be the first to tell me. Trust me, I knew almost immediately. I was just stunned and saddened. A feeling that has crept into my head numerous times already today. The Clemson Family really lost a good one. A couple of young kids lost a father. A couple of great parents lost a son. I'm not a very spiritual person, but I know that God is getting a good one up there in Heaven! And as I read earlier on a Clemson fan website, "The quarterbacks in heaven better watch their blind sides now." I hear it's an absolutely gorgeous day in Clemson, South Carolina today! Knowing #93 is looking down today and smiling! Thank you Gaines! Rest In Peace!

Wow! Just sat down and started writing. I guess I needed a release from the emotions of it. This one hit me hard. Not sure why. Hardly knew the man. Would say I didn't know the man at all, actually. I guess that's what happens when a 26 year old man leaves such an impression on a 32 year old man...

Back to the humor in a few days. Have Gasparilla coming up. CaliforniaGirl will be here, along with PollyJo, Beef and -ette! as well. Citizen will be making an appearance, and it has all the makings of a good time!

Is It Cold or Is It Just Mine?

So I sit here, on the "famed" couch in Tampa with the computer on (obviously), listening to Jack's Mannequin. They're pretty good. I like them. They're different. Sort of a band that I never thought that I'd like. There's a little Blink 182 in their sound, along with Coldplay, Keane, and seventeen other bands that I never thought I'd like, but I like the sound. Back from the cold of New Jersey. A great, whirlwind of a trip, emotions, and family, friends and good music. Speaking of music, I got to see my favorite band of the 1990's From Good Homes in an absolute snowstorm back in NJ as well. The show was December 19th, or last Saturday for those playing at home. The day I flew back "home." (JM just said, "It's a mess out there...", and that's an understatement.) The snow started coming down hard as soon as my plane landed in lovely Newark Liberty International Airport and didn't stop coming down hard until sometime the next day. This made travel to the show quite trecherous, but once inside the Wellmont Theater, in Montclair, NJ, the weather was a non-issue...until after the show. I won't go into details about the drive, but I will say that I'm greatful for Smoke and Earp for getting me there in one piece and "whoever drove me home." They were very safe and we were able to brave the storm. I'm glad I'm easy-going, because the back-seat drivers in both instances were quite tough on the drivers and I would have stopped the car, or at least tried to stop the car and kicked them out in both cases. But they withstood the onslaught and even took part in some laughs along the way. AYB was a gracious pre-party host with plenty of pizza, sort of, and some domestic beer for yours truly. The show was amazing. Brought back great memories. Shared the night with many great people and it was awesome seeing everyone and even in spending $98 on beer, etc, it was a great evening.

Was able to spend the rest of the time with family and friends, and my favorite thing of all...a headcold. Damn you weather change!!! Oh well, I'm still battling it, but I won't wither. In actuality, I went out for a four mile run today, and it sucked, but I still was able to do it, coughing the entire way and blowing many a snot out of my nose. I know that was too much information, but I had to give the visual to get the result! ANYWHO!!! I digress...(there it is!) I don't really have too much to add to this. Much of my trip will remain anonymous(that makes no sense) but there was a whirlwind of things going on, and the nine day trip that I was dreading was "too long" didn't materialize. It seemed like I was trying to get in and out of places and see people and do things, and then it was over. I was headed back to Florida. So I really can't say I did too much. Did see NYC a few times, saw the "tree" and a show (Mamma Mia...didn't love it), Times Square, etc. Did a lot of touristy things. Even Rock and I went into Grenwich Village to see Annie B perform and that was so much fun, even though when I told the guy that me and Rock were "party of two," it was the norm, it was a lot of fun.

Back to "reality" in Florida. Off for a few days, and then back to the grind come Monday. I am so grateful to my parents for housing me for the trip and all of the food and laughs that were shared by all of my people up there. Even the emotional times up there were awesome. I'm glad to get back and deal with this cold of mine. Sit on the couch a little bit, run, run some errands and just relax until the "busy season" of work starts. Hope everyone had a great Christmas with their families. Have a great New Years. Call me at midnight! I'll be "that guy" I fear...and love!

The Jinx is Around the Corner...

(photo courtesy of Vatalaro Photography Group, LLC, Tampa, FL)

it has to be. This can't possibly happen to me, or Clemson nation. My Tigers are one, count them, ONE conference win away from coming to see me in Tampa. Around 5 miles from my home, to play in the ACC Conference Championship!

I have already heard from all sorts of people talking about coming. ZDP is in. Yarbs is in. #83 is even going to get away for a bit from his newborn and get on down. I've heard from The Gal fam in NJ about flying in. 5YrEx may be on her way with her husband. I'm sure the regulars will be thinking about it as well. All of this excitement that is building up inside is very nerve-racking. {sp?}. Because we are Clemson fans, we're just sitting here waiting for the other shoe to drop. The Tigers weren't supposed to lose to an AWFUL Maryland team and did, and looked bad doing so. They weren't supposed to beat a Miami team that had (then) Heisman trophy contender at Quarterback and loaded with team speed, and they did. Because we're Clemson, we were supposed to "lay an egg" this past weekend against a mediocre NCState team, and went out and stepped on their throats. This weekend, Senior Day, against a mediocre UVa team, at home, I can't possibly see any scenario that the Tigers would lose...but then again, we're Clemson fans. There is still a feeling of something is going to happen. I hate, reiterate HATE Red Sox fans, but before 2004 all they did was wait for the inevitable to happen. The major collapse was just around the corner. It wasn't until an improbable comeback, against my beloved Yankees that "Red Sox Nation" had their fortunes turn for the better and have since become the most arrogant fan in sport. I WANT TO BE THAT OBNOXIOUS!!! Ok, maybe not THAT obnoxious, but I want that feeling. I want the feeling that Clemson WILL win the games that it's supposed to. Win the game with the Championship game on the line. Erase the demon for good. Actually, as I was writing here I just realized that I don't care if they erase the demon "for good." I just want the demon to be erased this year. Next year, and subsequent years mean nothing right now. This game is HUGE for me because for once I wouldn't have to travel 8+ hours for a game. I could wake up at 8, on gameday, in my own bed, start the tailgating, and roll over to the stadium and be there to watch my favorite sports team in my own backyard! Also, as I type this, I'm (of course) listening to my ipod, and appropriately enough, playing in the background is "Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want" by The Smiths. I couldn't have said it better myself. I couldn't have set that up better!

Also, I'm seriously considering heading up to Clemson this weekend for the game for the sole reason that I want to be in attendance for when they announce the best player I've ever seen wear a Tiger uniform in his last home game. CJ Spiller better get the biggest, 5-10 minute standing ovation ever given a player/coach/whatever in the history of the school. He deserves it. I want to do my part. I've talked a lot in past posts about having "Chill Moments," I believe that may be the biggest, best one I'll have yet. I'm hoping that stadium is the loudest has ever been. I've been to some games, even before the West End Zone project was completed and had a hard time hearing myself think. FSU 1999, Miami 2003, etc. Here's to hoping it's THAT loud, if not moreso. Go Tigers! Come see me!!!

When Does It All End ("I'm a looser")

Once again, it's been awhile since I've written on this thing. Want to give a shout out to one of my new readers. Don't know how you stumbled onto this thing LLittle, but thanks for stopping by. You know most of my antics from Clemson days, hence the title of this post. When does it all end? Now, I'm not going to get deep on anybody today, but I want to know when doing stupid stuff ends for me? Are these the cards that I was dealt?

Back in my younger days I've always been the goof, the actor of the group. I pick my spots, but I always liked to perform. I love the acting thing because I get to be someone I'm not for three hours. Sometimes I'd even do that at a party. Sometimes Anheuser-Busch products helped me along in those efforts. But otherwise I love to make people laugh and because I like to smile and laugh, I hope to help others do the same. Today, I took it to an entirely different level, one that was completely inadvertent, and not sure was noticed, but I noticed and that's what matters.

Drove to a non-descript location on the Eastern part of Florida today for some meetings. Had a great day of buying books (yes, that is what I do), and after meeting #2, I decide it's time for some gas and a bottle of water. So I pull into the local 7-11-like establishment and start the process of filling the gas tank when I do my usual check of my wallet, keys, zipper to make sure everything is in order. Now I must say that it is now about 10am, I've driven a long ways, walked into at least two schools, talked to numerous people. Anyway, I get to the third check, the zipper on my pants, aka my fly, and it was halfway down. I check this thing everytime I get out of the car, kind of like I'm OCD with it, BUT I must have not had enough sleep or something last night because I stopped what I was doing, immediately pulled my fly up to its expected location and laughed uncontrollably in the gas station. I had talked to an assistant superintendent with my fly around my ankles, more or less. I guess someone upstairs is trying to match wits with my fun-loving spirit!

It's funny that things like that happen. Last night, hanging out with a friend I was in my pajama pants. Yes, I live in Florida and yes, it was about 165 degrees last night around 10pm, but I had the pj pants working while in public. (This is also funny to me). As I'm leaving, said friend decided it would be a good idea to see if I had tied my pj pants, which I had not. Brought me back to Beef and PRice's after-wedding party when I was "pantsed" as well in front of a great big crowd. I think it was that experience that elicited the reaction I had last night, which was a mix of utter fear and complete humor. I'm not one that can dish it but can't take it. And I'm a big believer in Karma, and things come back around to you. So I must have done something like that to someone in the past. I just can't remember because of said Anheuser-Busch products and long weekends.

I have another story for another day, but I might as well just add it in here because God only knows when the next time I'll have a post will be. One of my NEWEST pet peeves in this world is the spelling of the word LOSER, or LOSE, or any form thereof. I see college educated people, along with uneducated people use the phrase, "I hate when Clemson looses to teams they shouldn't," or "Creegs, you are a complete and total looser!" or "I can't believe the loosers that root for the Phillies over the Yankees." You get the point. Why does this bother me? I'm not sure, I guess it was my field of study back in college and being the son of a former English teacher, I'm not sure. I just don't understand why people can't spell simple words anymore. Is it the texting society in which we live now? I text...A LOT, and I still spell out my words (for the most part), I'm just now getting used to the "2nite, y don't u come ovr 4 a mtg thx :)" Shouldn't there be a new language taught in college? I think I may try to go get my masters so that I could teach Texting 101, 102, 201, 202 and then the advanced 300- 400- levels of it. But I digress! Why does this bother me so much now? God knows I make a ton of grammatical mistakes and talk in slang all the time and run on sentences with no real structure to speak of. (see???) Am I just getting old and crotchety? Maybe...

Hope everyone is well! It's still really, really hot here. I know not many feel sorry for me having my AC on 72 right now because of the swealtering 95 degree heat in late October, but I'm sweating!

Song on the ipod: 52-50 (live version) by O.A.R. Check it out. It's happy times!

I've Got Nothing

I don't have any real "exciting" news to report, so I figured I'd put something on this space, and it was a song that was just playing on my ipod. One of my favorite bands, especially live, is O.A.R. from Rockville, Md. One of my favorite songs by them is Hey Girl which is a line that I normally say to people, preferably females, but I've been known to throw that out there regardless of gender. The song is great live, and I laugh at the lyrics. Actually, I only actually listened to the lyrics in their entirety today as I sit in front of my computer and it plays on behind me. Here they are. Hopefully, there will be a story to tell this upcoming weekend. Enjoy O.A.R. without the music. My favorite lines, ones that hit home are in bold. Haha!!!

I took this girl out last night and we left around 12,
We walked along lonely streets and got to know ourselves,
I like to read - she likes to write,
She likes to sleep - and I like to stay up all night,
My friends say I'm crazy and I agree,
But that's okay cause that the way she likes to be
Hey girl come with me and let yourself go
Hey girl come with me and let yourself go
Well we went out late that night and we danced through the night
I was holding on to her and she be gripping it tight, she was
But she didn't care, I didn't mind
I was unaware that she liked to act so kind,
My friends say I'm crazy and I agree,
But thats okay cause thats the way I like to be
I say Hey girl, come with me and let yourself go,
Hey girl come with me and let yourself go, go, go-oh,
Just let yourself go
Later on that night I took her home,
I asked if she felt alright being alone
So I went inside, she didn't mind,
Took two to decide that I wasn't going home tonight
I see we're both crazy, that's alright with me,
The night was kind of hazy that's the way it's gonna be
I say now Hey girl, come with me and let yourself go,
Hey girl come with me and let yourself go, go, go-oh,
Just let yourself go, go, go-oh,
Just let yourself go, go, go-oh...Let yourself go

Even Wallets Have Jokes

I went to Clemson last weekend for the Clemson/TCU football game, and to see the Broadway show Avenue Q at the Brooks Center for Performing Arts, which happens to be my favorite place in the world, particularly because of the amazing, wonderful people that frequent the place, along with the people that work there (minus the band, but that's another story for another day.) The trip started out pretty normal until I hit Ocala, Florida. The sleepy, horse town is the only "major" town on I75 from Tampa to Valdosta, but it is still not known for its population. So as I'm driving the route 580 miles north to Clemson, about 90 miles into my trip there is traffic, and when I say traffic, I mean that LA would have been jealous of this traffic. People were out of their cars, engines off, just enjoying the beautiful 98 degree 1000% humidity day in Ocala. Ok, so it wasn't that hot, but it was close. Finally, after 45 minutes or so we started moving again and made it through to see that it was a rather large, injury-filled accident. There were a lot of ambulences, but I hope no one was seriously injured. But I digress. (again with that phrase!?!? I can't stop.) Making great time on my way north and there is a bypass through Macon, Georgia. Not really sure why that is, but I take it because that's how I roll, and don't know any better, and because the GPS woman would yell at me if I didn't. She yells at me all the time. I guess I'm a creature of habit and like to take my own ways home. But that traffic that I spoke of in Ocala was now on the bypass. I thought it was a bypass because people wouldn't play bumper cars on this road. When I got up to the "accident" it was good to see that it didn't look like anyone was hurt, only a F150 (or some truck thing like that) was jackknifed and the 1000 foot trailer (or so it seemed) was in the two right lanes, and his truck was facing the wrong direction. The trailer looked like it went into the side of the truck. It was different looking. Kind of made me smile, in a non-masochistic way. I'd never seen that before. Cross that off the list of...well, I'm not sure what list to cross that off of, but cross it off already and make me stop writing about it. And finally, Atlanta traffic, was, well, Atlanta traffic. Needless to say, I made it to the Brooks Center in plenty of time to see the show and to see all sorts of friends. The show was unbelievable. If you like pure comedy, it's brilliant. If you like puppet comedy, you may need to be hospitalized after the show from laughing so hard. Basically, for those who don't know about the show. It's a spoof of Sesame Street, 'nuff said.

Before I got to Clemson, I got a text from Bird and she said that she would "see me early tomorrow." That seems like a non-factor, with the exception of that's where I stay when I go to Clemson for the weekend for a game or what-have-you. So I took that as if I was not welcome to sleep there Friday night, and try again on Saturday night because Bird and Giggles have two young children. So now I try my former co-workers, students, young co-eds, whatever would work. All of them said I could absolutely stay with them, BUT that the show was packing up and headed to Syracuse, NY in the morning, and it's a huge show and they weren't expecting to be out of the theater until 4am. (I heard on Sunday that they didn't step foot out of the theater until 7am. Ouch.) So I went to my trusty computer and found a hotel, in Clemson, with vacancy, and it wasn't one of the two shady, SHADY ones. It was a new Holiday Inn Express and Suites, and it was sweet! Got a good nights sleep, and was ready for a day of debaucherous behavior.
Saturdays in Clemson during football season are wonderful days. I woke up relatively early for a Saturday and drove over to the Brooks Center with my running gear on. Ran my program (Week 3, Day 2, even though I'm about 4+ weeks into it, I'm taking my time) through campus and a steady drizzle. It was awesome. I think, through my breaths I was smiling the whole time. I love that place.

I had a lot of beers before the game, but the day, weather-wise was not so good, but it couldn't dampen me more than the BudLights could. I was probably a bit buzzed before the game, but the game and the adreneline of it sobers me up and brings about the hang-over around halftime. Clemson ended up losing the game in a driving rain. I was completely drenched from the rain this time. "Cute boy jeans" as they've been called in the past, and a sweatshirt and about a mile to walk back to my car. I made the most of it, hanging with Bird, Giggles et al. after the game, having a good ole time. Walked back to the car when it seemed we were being kicked out of the parking space, about 4 hours after the game. The next stop was a bar about 10 miles away and closer to the Bird-house (haha. I crack me up sometimes), which I was yelled at for not asking to stay there on Friday night and could absolutely stay there on Saturday. I knew where I was going, and said my short good-byes to the crew and started my mile or so walk from one end of campus to the other. Walked back with a cute older couple (probably in their 40s) who didn't really know where they were going and probably had too much to drink after the game, but it was great. I asked them where they were headed and they said they were going home. I then added, to the wife, "you gonna get your feet rubbed?" That was all it took. I think I started WW3. But in a humorous way. For about 3/4 of the mile walk, these two were bickering that she should get a foot rub and he should run her a bath, and he said that he was going to the shower and then immediately on the couch and had no time for either. It was amazing and I think I laughed the entire time.

On to the point of this useless rambling. I get back to the car, and immediately change into some dry clothes. Probably could have gotten indecent exposure on Clemson's campus, but thankfully it was eerily quiet on campus that night. After I change, I check my shorts pocket for my wallet. I have my keys and cellphone, but the obvious missing ingredient to my trip was my wallet. So I walk back to the trunk and check my jeans again, check my bag, check the back of the car, nothing. The freaking out didn't start quite yet. I search the inside of the car because maybe I threw my wallet into the front seat, something I've done before on many occasions. It's almost like I like looking for my wallet or something. A game of sorts. The wallet was not in the car, as far as I could tell. BUT, I did just buy a gatorade and the limited edition Orange and White BudLight cans that I just had to have and bring back to Tampa for future Clemson games, or a Wednesday. (actually, I don't drink during the week, but I wanted to throw that in there. Once again, I think I'm funny sometimes.) I get in the car, drive over to the Quik-E-Mart, drive past a number of DUI check-points, and that freaks me out even though my last beer was probably 8 hours earlier. Just knowing I had A beer makes me nervous. (digressing again.) Go into the store and immediately ask if I left my wallet there earlier, and the guys behind the counter said that they had not found a wallet. The freaking out is slowly creeping up my loins and into my finger tips at this point. I decide to go back to where I parked for the day and check the ground. I do that, and still nothing. Now the freaking out is at the apex of Mt. Rainier (for you -ette), and I start thinking about my 8 1/2 hour trip back to Tampa in the morning. I obviously need gas, gatorade, maybe even some lunch, but can't because 1)it'll be Sunday, so no banks are open to even try to get money 2)I don't have an ID, so I couldn't get money anyway. So what do I do? CALL MOM AND DAD!!! YAY! I never claimed to be smart. So now, not only am I freaking out, but now I have mom freaking out and dad trying to calm me and mom down while trying not to freak out for me. We're throwing out ideas, from calling my friend in Greenville who used to teach at Seton Hall to come give me money, to western union (I have no id to be able to do that.) In my freaking out state, I turn to the next best thing. I start cursing, unmercifully to my father for no real reason other than the freaking out. As I'm in my rant, I punch my cloth bag because that's what I should do. It's the bags fault for misplacing my wallet. But as I do this, my hand goes into my bag, and what's right on top???? As if it was playing a joke on me. I ripped through that bag on three separate occasions to try to find this thing, and here it was right on top, almost as if it were mocking me. Mom and Dad calmed down. My heart started beating at its normal rate and the night ended at Waffle House, where I was so excited about my "new" findings that I decided to pay. Even though the meal completely killed what I did earlier with the run on campus, it was the best "scattered, covered" hashbrowns I've ever eaten!

Wow! That was long. Sorry about that. Just thought I needed to share.

Terrible...But I Love It

So I admitted last night to CougarLuvr (my neighbor) that I have not seen the movie 300. I also told him that I didn't really like blood and gore in my movies. I have watched American History X, Boyz N The Hood, A History of Violence, Fight Club...etc, but I don't really go out of my way to watch gore or medieval history movies. I avoided Western Civ classes in college until the last possible moment, and still wanted to drop it because of all the 18 year olds in my class. What I basically admitted was that if the movie is not a slap-stick comedy or romantic comedy, I don't seek it out. That's right. I seek out Romantic Comedy movies. I guess I'm just the "hopeless romantic" that I try to not be. I'm not openly admitting that I'm one of "those" but I like the happy endings.

I tell you all that to tell you that this evening, I watched Ghosts of Girlfriends Past {SPOILER ALERT}because Matthew McCon...{sp} is so dreamy. Ok, that's only slightly true. I love Jennifer Garner for one, and second, I thought I could relate to this movie. Without getting way too corny for my own good, I wanted to see a movie, with a happy ending about a guy who f's up way too many times for his own good, and finally realizes how many times he messed up and gets the girl back. That is the gist of the movie. So if you wanted to see the movie and haven't already, I'm sorry. I just saved you an hour and forty minutes of your life. I've been in this position before, and it hasn't ended well, so I wanted to see what it would be like if it did!

I have a story about last weekend that I'm saving. It's more along the lines of funny and fun. I'm headed up to Clemson this weekend to watch my Tigers play. Not sure where I'm staying, but I'll nomad it up if I have to. That's how I roll! More later.

I Hate Being Called Something I'm Not

The other night I was talking to one of my neighbors and we were talking about my aforementioned running and my desire to get in better shape, which I thought was going to be taking a break this week as I sit in a hotel in Orlando for the week, but it happened again. I got the sudden feeling to just get up and go, and I did. This time I went to the workout room and ran on the treadmill. I can honestly say I kind of like running on the road because I feel like I'm actually running somewhere rather than in place, but it was good, and I was sweaty, for the third time today.

Anyway, back to the title of the post. I'm sick and tired of being called something I'm not. I was talking to the neighbor and we were talking about running, etc. This person told me that he (married) friend called me "hot!" WHAT!?!?! Have you met me? I am not hot! I'm really, genuinely not looking for the comments that it seems that I am. I'm not. I'm beyond flattered. This, will-not-be-named person is gorgeous and she's calling me hot? Really? And she's not really even a friend. She's a great person, and I enjoy her (and her husbands) company, but I don't call them to come hang out, and not people I would even grab dinner with...I mean, I would...nevermind, I'm over-thinking this thing. I am beyond flattered because in all my years of life, that has never been an adjective that has come before my name. Things that start with ass and end with hole, or big head, or every other "nice" phrases. An ex-girlfriend even said that she loved how I looked...from the back. If that's not the epitome of what I'm used to, I don't know what is.

I hate when I'm writing a post and have multiple thoughts going on in my head to add to this, but when I get finished with one thought, I forget what the other thought was. It was off-topic, but...ugh...I forgot! Oh well, I'm sure it'll come back to me and I'll write another post later on in the week. Have a great week! Sea World looks awesome from where I'm staying, but yet I've never been there. Come visit and we'll go. I really want to go! ... no, seriously, I do!

So Sad

So I've moved on to Week 2 of my "Couch to 5k" running/walking program and I feel great about it, and actually really enjoy doing it, even if the sweat and worn out look on my face says otherwise. Yesterday, Labor Day, I labored through step one on week 2. All it is, is warm-up five minute "brisk walk" and then (6 reps of) 90 seconds of running, 2 minutes of brisk walk. So, for all you math majors out there, means that I only ran for 9 minutes and walked for 17 minutes. I was hurting yesterday. I got done with the run and immediately went across the street and dove right into the pool. (I typed "poop" instead of pool initially, but that was strictly by habit, haha)

The weekend was good, and rather non-eventful, and that was entirely needed and welcome. One thing that was awesome about the weekend, other than the start of College Football and a Clemson opening night win was the US Open. Yes, I do watch just about every sport on tv, but was really taken aback from the 17 year old Georgia native Melanie Oudin. Man, this girl is awesome. I remember back in the day being down the shore with my family and staying up late to watch the night sessions of the US Open. I vividly remember Jimmy Conners run to the (?)semi-finals(?). Couldn't tell you what year that was, but I remember coming home early from the arcade to watch the unbelievable tennis and the fact that an unlikely American was in the running for that Grand Slam title made it even that more exciting. Today, when I opened up my computer and went to Fox Sports, the cover story was about this tremendous teen. Then opened up espn.com and once again, there she was, on the cover page. Sorry for the tennis talk, but this girl is amazing. She's lost the first set of her last two matches, only to rally to win the matches. She's in the final 16. It's nice to see an American woman...er...girl in the running that isn't named Williams. I like them too, but this is an unlikely, and amazing journey, and rather fun to watch. Be sure to check her out, because if you don't, you're not American. haha.

Got to hang out with CapeLeague this weekend and his wonderful girlfriend Schmoop. Had a great time with them. Probably could've had more adult beverages than I did, but man, I was hurting pretty bad from all day imbibing on Saturday. Wasn't so much of the binge variety, but the fact that I had my first beverage at 3, and my last at about midnight, it was a long, long day. But very enjoyable. Can't believe I missed out on the buffalo wing dip.

Hope you all have a great week. Hope to have more for this thing later on in the week.

(Not listening to any music right now to add what's on the ipod...)

The New Me

So I've started running. Not really sure why, other than because I'm tired of being "obese" to all these "body experts." I know I have a gut. I know a lot of it is because of the amount of beer I drink. I started, as many know, to only drink one night a week, if any, and that day is almost always Fridays. Saturdays, I famously drink Gatorade by the quart. Alright, it may not be famous to you, the reader, but it's famous in my mind. Then I started to do a little research, and the emphasis is a little. I've found, after being told by the guy who broke a liquor bottle on my "boys" over Crabfest that drinking one of the 32oz Gatorades has over 200 calories, and could be considered a meal. Considering that I drink, AT MINIMUM two a day, and eat two full meals (I know, I should eat three), my caloric intake was above where I need to be. Granted, Earp, along with DishSoap, FineCheese,a (not sure you were there Beefette, were you???) and others said that my butt looked "good" in my jeans (thanks girls! Made my weekend), my gut doesn't look so great in my shirts though, so, with all that being said, I started a running program. Started it on Monday, and went late in the evening, around 9pm. It was great. It was a "cool Florida night." This afternoon, at 3:45pm, it was NOT a cool Florida afternoon. Holy Cow is it hot!!! It's a great program. I downloaded a podcast to my ipod and it's a dude telling me to walk at a brisk pace for the first five minutes, then run for 60 seconds, brisk walk for 90, run for 60, repeat 8 times. Sounds easy, but not for a 265 pound man, with the belly to prove it. The gentleman, and I use that term loosely, on the podcast says, around interval six that you should not be breathing heavy or tired. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I was both, and that was the understatement of the century. But I actually did notice a difference from Monday to today. And it feels good!

Sometimes I hate myself for having a pretty good memory. I think sometimes I'll drink too much so I don't remember everything! Anyway, someone special to me told me that "{they} liked me just the way I am." Besides making me smile, that made me a little lazy. For a few days I thought to myself that I didn't have to run or lose some LB's because that person (no creative name thought of quite yet) was my barometer. My thinking turned, "well if _____ likes me, then I don't need to drop the gut." I loved that line, but I'm single now. I'm ready to "get the hot girl." I'm tired of looking in the mirror and seeing the mass (not even chins) under my chin. Or looking down right now, after a run, and seeing the belly.

This is just something that I've been doing. Had to write it down. Not looking for any feedback on that front, just hope that when I see my people back in NJ, or wherever you may be, when you see me over the holidays that there's been some progress. If I'm still the fat, funny guy, then I want to be called out that I got lazy. I'm pretty committed, but it's early. I like that I got home from work today, did some paperwork and got my shorts on and put the ipod on, stretched and got on my way almost without thinking. And feel really good afterwards. I worry about week 2 of the podcast, and heard snippets of week 9 and I nearly vomited immediately. Running 30 minutes. RIIIIIIIIIIGHHHT! But that's two months away.

Crabfest...er...Meatfest (see Beefette's blog) was awesome. I was driving home yesterday from Melbourne, and was thinking about my friends. I probably write something about you all often, but then again, I think about everyone often. I don't think I really embrace my trips to see my friends, a la Crabfest because I think about how quickly it'll all be over. Take this year for example. I had a blast getting in there on Friday night, but once lil Beef and -ette were delayed until late Friday night, I started thinking that I'd really just being able to hang out with them for one day. Of course, I made the most of that visit with them, doing a fantasy football draft with lil, and having a one-on-one chat-session on a short ride back to Hunter's parents house, which I always love as well, but then once saturday night was over, that was it. And I started thinking about Saturday night on Friday night. I'm not sure it's as if I didn't enjoy myself on Saturday night, but it weighed heavy. AYB3 was gone by the time I woke up on Sunday. YellowLed(der)bedder was too! The rain didn't wash away the fun, but it probably handcuffed us from doing some of the things we normally would've done, like the bonfire talks, stories, etc. I didn't have any fun ones this year, but my Tampa people told me I should have made one up, but that's not me. My stories are only good (depending on who you ask, and what your definition of "good" is) when they are true, and usually make me look like a fool. What's the use of making one up?

Music Currently playing on the ipod: King's of Leon "Use Somebody"

Best Laid Plans Of Mice and Men

Sorry about the title. It was originally going to just be "the best laid plans..." but my favorite book came to mind when I started typing it, so I kept typing it. Anyway. The move happened over the weekend, and into Monday with the only thing left now is to clean. I'm thinking that I will wait until the last moment to clean because I have to procrastinate somehow, it's how I roll. And I haven't thusfar, so I figure that's what's got to happen (how's that for terrible grammar?!?!) Anyway, on to my story:

So as many of my reader(s) know, I usually wait until the last minute to book flights for trips and then complain about how much it cost me, and really it's completely and totally my fault. So this particular trip, the 5th(???) Annual Crabfest on Kent Island, Md. on the Chesapeake, I went against the grain if you will, and bought the tickets extremely (for me anyway) early. I bought cheap, cheap, cheap airfare for the trip, which was/is going to begin on the Jersey Shore (if you're not from here, you wouldn't understand.) So I was planning on flying into Philly or Atlantic City, with the former being closer and cheaper on Spirit Airlines. Little did I know that you have to pay to pick your nose on Spirit Airlines, but I digress (I'm trying to include that phrase in each of my revamped blog posts, but I digress...). My original plan was to fly up on Wednesday afternoon, take off work Thursday and Friday, spending time down the shore with the family Wednesday night, all day Thursday and half-day Friday and then drive the expensive as poop rental car to BWI-Thurgood Marshall International Airport on Friday to meet Beef and -ette, and then have FineCheese pick us up for the festivities to begin. Sounds like a great plan, right? I think so too. EXCEPT!!! I get an email yesterday from Spirit talking about my upcoming flight. I was in Daytona, so I didn't really read it, just saw it was there. I thought to myself that Spirit was really proactive in getting me prepared for my flight two days out. Well I get home last night (to the new 1BR SPACIOUS apartment), help the Ex move her big stuff to her new place, and then grab the rest of my stuff from my townhouse and bring it to my new home. I start to unpack dishes, glasses, start the laundry, etc. I decided, for some reason to see what Spirit had to say in their email because I had never flown them before. Mind you, I like to go to sleep by 10:30 or so in order to get my much needed beauty sleep. What I see before me scares the beJesus out of me. It says, plain as day: Departing: Tuesday, August 18. WHAT?!?! I made plans to leave Tampa on Wednesday the 18th, not Tuesday the 18th!!! So I jump to my rental car reservation and see that it says Wednesday, August 19th! Oh crapola. I call Spirit to see if I can't change my flight to Wednesday, so I don't have to take another day off. The fine gentleman on the phone in Agra, India, whose name, appropriately enough was Jason told me that it was going to cost me $220 to change my flight to Wednesday. I politely hung up the phone as fast as I could. My two flights combined, plus half the rental car didn't add up to $220. Now I had to change my rental car reservation because I guess I was leaving today. Can't do it. Says that all of the cars are sold out for Tuesday. UGH!!! To make a long story short, it wasn't until I got someone on the phone at Hertz that I was able to change the reservation to today, but fighting with the voice automated prompts was a battle unto itself, one that if I had a roomie listening or anyone around, probably would have died laughing. I think even it was tired of talking to me and my attempts at changing my reservation.

So here I am. At the Jersey Shore, with my amazing, wonderful parents and brother and sis-in-law, and the neices and nephew. For some reason, and I know why, but I hate admiting it, I am the one who gets put in the most uncomfortable position ("...like in the backseat of a Volkswagon Bug" - Mallrats) everytime we all get together. At my parents place in NJ, I'm on a fouton and I'm too big for it, and my feet hang over the wooden armrests. My feet kill me when I wake up. But mom does it up right and the pillows and comforter almost make up for the feet-ache. This time takes the cake though. I'm sleeping on the bottom bunk of bunk beds. Seriously?!?! Oh yes! That's me. This thing is awesome, and by awesome, I mean oh my goodness, this is uncomfortable. But until there is a little lady that is in my life again, and Mom even said that she could get the top bunk if one were here. I will be the one that will take one for the team and be slightly uncomfy. But I guess after I fall asleep it'll be all for naught until 6:30am when the little'uns awaken. THEN, I will find out what body part aches, and be sure to add it to the next post.

Wow, I just basically complained for an entire post. I apologize for that. Just wanted to share my ineptitude at reading a calendar. I'm sure the 18th was on a Wednesday at some point this year, but not in August apparently.

Looking forward to Friday. Looking forward to the beach tomorrow, although I did walk on it tonight, and the sand was cold and the breeze was full of salt and the waves nice and big. I did draw a line in the sand, but no one was there to cross it. Also, very much looking forward to Friday. Beefette's birthday! and Crabfest. Good night to all.

Song Currently On the Ipod: The Gift - O.A.R.

Moving Day is Nigh...again

So I'm moving on with my life, and moving into a one bedroom, back to where I used to live. Actually right across the hall from where I used to live. Literally, if I were to walk out of my old place of residence, made a quarter turn to the left and took two steps, I'd be in my new place. Citizen and I used to live in a two bedroom, but I figure that I'm 32 and it's time to live on my own and be a grown-up. If I continue to be unlucky in love, I may be in this place for quite some time. It's a great 12-unit complex, where I know everyone, and half of which I play with as well. Half of which were at most of my funny, unfortunate (what-have-you) incidents that filled this blogmosphere for quite some time. So I feel like I'm heading "home." I'm very much looking forward to it, minus the actually moving. I'm downsizing a bit, as far as square footage, but it shant be that much of a difference, as I'm just one man!

(From the woe-is-me category) I was off working in Orlando, FL today. I absolutely love my job. Wish I was a bit more successful at it, as some of our top producers make a lot of money, and I feel like I work as hard as they do, with lesser results. Anyway, today I was out in Orlando doing a pick-up and on my ride over this early, early morning, I started thinking about my family. Now I'm very lucky to have the family I have, no question about it. I was thinking about my mom and dad being married 40 years next June. Wow! That baffled me. Then I started doing math. Never a good thing at 6:30 in the am. I figured out that my parents were 26 when they had Aurilius, and then 30 when they had yours truly. Then my brain stopped working because I have been doing the early morning run to Orlando all week. But I digress. I started thinking that my parents were in their first house fresh out of the matrimonial oath. I believe, they started out in Newark (that's one word for those Delaware residents that make that same spelling into three words somehow), then South Orange, where I was born and lived for eight years, then on to New Providence for the next 10+ years. My point being, they "downsized" as I finished college at age 28. Ok, maybe not that long, but it took me awhile. But at least I can tell prospective students about just about every major at Clemson. I'm downsizing single at 32, with no kids (that I know of) and I'm happy. I mean, I know there's a girl out there for me. But really, I'm in no rush to be "there." I love the companionship. I love the friendship. I love the smooches and squeezes too! For the first time in awhile, I'm content. It's a beautiful thing. Now if I could lose this extra 40 pounds, I'd be the man! Ok, maybe not that far, but you know what I mean. Who am I talking to? I don't know Mr. Blog Thing, just keep jotting down my ramblings please. Thanks.

It's moving day tomorrow. AND I don't pack. I don't do it. How bad is that? 32 years old and have moved now 5 times in 6 years of living in Tampa. 4 of which have been within a 2 mile radius of where I am now, and I refuse to pack things up. Tomorrow afternoon, I plan on loading the faithful soccer mom car and head around the corner to my new abode. Literally, just throwing things into the car, and packing it to the gills and then grabbing as much as I possibly can and walking up the two flights of stairs and worry about it later. Then the big stuff after that with a pick-up truck(we're so southern down here) and then I'll sleep over there tomorrow night without tv, but probably with plenty of adult libations. (hopefully, with minimal to no text messages mixed in.) Saturday should be much of the same, as I try to start the new place off with a bang!

That's all I have for today. Wasn't much, but I'm easing my way back into the groove. Hopefully, with all of the "fun" this weekend, there will be a story or two to tell to put smiles on your faces and the thoughts in your mind, "why are we friends with that guy again?!?!"

Also, please click on the title of this post to go vote for Beefette's something or other on another website so that she and her bridesmaids can get a trip to Florida. It'd be cool to have them down here! If that link doesn't work, go to wanderinglavignes.blogspot.com
HURRY!!! GO!

TGIF!

Delayed

Usually I would probably just follow up that title with a story about flying from Tampa to NJ, only to be diverted to Pittsburgh. I've been to Pittsburgh three times in my life, and yet I've never seen the city. I've seen the airport plenty, but never ventured out. I have been scheduled to be in Pittsburgh NEVER in my 32 years on Earth. But I was meaning to write a blog post Monday. I got that fire back on Sunday on my drive back from ZDP and Bizzle's in Savannah. Hanging with a really cool 14 month old kid! He loves dancing, and answering phones. It was good times. Apparently he woke up early and was fussing around the crib early in the mornings, but I didn't hear a thing. ANYWAY, I digress. I felt like I had so many stories to write, so many tales to tell as I enter a new phase in my life, but then I sat down at the computer and had nothing to tell. So I guess this is what they call writers block. There is a bunch of stuff going on in the world, but I don't have much fun to tell for right now.

This is my promise to both of my readers. I will try to keep this up to date. I will tell silly stories as soon as they happen, or the morning after with maybe a slight headache or what-have-you. So that's where we are. Keep checking back for idiotic stories!

How about Rick Porcello getting charged by Kevin Youkilis last night?!?! I mean, really. I was sitting and Two1stNames house last night and we were watching the highlights of it, and he was about to tell me how much of a typical Seton Hall Prep alumni he was by retreating, AND THEN Ricky P THREW Youk to the ground. The only thing that would've been better for me (a Yankee fan) would have been if Porcello got one good punch to the nose as soon as he got to the ground. That would've been amazing! That's all!

My favorite band of the week: Jack's Mannequin

It's Coming Back...

Yes, you heard that correctly. I'm moving next week into a one-bedroom apartment and the blog will be back in full-force. Ok, maybe not full force, but I will absolutely update this with antics and fun times. It's been eight months since my last post, and I think I have some updating to do for my loyal pleebs. It's coming...Monday!