I Love My Wife

Yesterday, I took a couple of my buddies on a little wheelin' trip in my Jeep. Before leaving, my wife asked me when I thought we'd be back. I gave her my "best guess", which is about as good as a politician's promise.

Long story short, I didn't make it back when she had hoped. There was a phone call to check on where we were, a big let-down at finding out, and a sheepish husband in front of "the boys". And worse, a huge misunderstanding and some arguing to go along with it when I got home. She simply wanted to surprise us with dinner when we got back. Thanks to me, she went to Apollo Burger with my daughter instead.

And yet...

She still loves me. We talked it out, we worked through it, and we moved on. Better, stronger, and a little more understanding of each other as a result. And that is what makes my marriage so great. And that is also why...

I LOVE MY WIFE!

Whyzit so many seem so unwilling to just work on marriage?

The Hero Returns

Yes. I'm back. My loyal fanbase has been lost without my inquisitive whyzits-ing and howcomes-ing. Back on task...

We have a little quote calendar on the back of our toilet. This allows me to concentrate on meaningful thought in the bathroom. A room where many ingenious ideas have been born over the centuries. Mine is coming, I can feel it. Recently, the quote of the day was as follows;

"Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending."

It took me a minute to see past the simplicity of this statement and realize just how profound it is. I mean, it was great to start my workout routine again, but even greater to end it the next day. And it was great to start orgazining our home office, but it was greater to give up within an hour. Great it was indeed, to start down the road of recovery from my addiction to frosted mini-spooners. Yet even greater was accepting that I am an addict, and that my mini-spooners will control me forever, thus ending said road to recovery.

I could go on all day, because it was great to start this blog...

Howcome great is so, well, great?

Mandatory Movies

Mandatory movies are movies that I've seen a million times. But for some reason, whenever they're on I find that I simply have to stop what I'm doing and sit down and watch them. I realized this last night as I came across Blackhawk Down while channel surfing. Even though I've seen it several times, it was like my hand froze and I couldn't use the remote. I was stuck watching the drama unfold once again, riveted and entranced by a very compelling story. Some of you may be able to relate. Here's a sampling of some other mandatory movies of mine... is there a pattern here?

• Saving Private Ryan
• Band of Brothers
• Braveheart
• Last of the Mohicans
• Open Range

Okay, so there's actually more...

• Dumb & Dumber
• Office Space
• Tommy Boy
• Dukes of Hazzard (guilty pleasure!)

I'm sure there's more, but that's all I could think of for now. Stay tuned for an updated list. With as much tv as I watch, the list could double by.... tomorrow.

Guilty Pleasures

That's right, we all have 'em. I'm sure you can think of a few. Here are some of mine...

1. Frosted Mini Spooners: previously mentioned, true, but worth repeating
2. Caffeine: come to think of it, more of a necessity than a guilty pleasure
3. Spending money when I don't have any: just more fun that way
4. Sleeping in: I do it all too well
5. Blogging: I mean, I could be working
6. Copying other blogger's formats: hee hee

Even my wife and daughter have guilty pleasures...

1. Chocolate
2. Throwing food on the floor when told not to
3. Dr. Pepper
4. Chocolate
5. Turning the DVD player on and off
6. Sugar Smacks
7. Chocolate
8. The Hills seasons 1 & 2

Can you guess which belongs to which?

What Friends Are For

Co-worker: I have a lead for you

Me: Great, who is it?

Co-worker: Well, he's german, bit of an accent. Name's Harry Baer. Here's the number, said he's interested in the luxury catalogue. Tell him I asked you to call

Me: Great, thanks

(Phone ringing....) "Thanks for calling the Zoo, how may i help you?"

Me: "Yes, I'm looking for a Harry Baer?..." (to myself: what the? ah, crap)

Zoo dude: (chuckling) Uh... I, um... I think someone may be playing a prank on you

Me: Oh, um... my bad. Thanks. CLICK

INNER MONOLOGUE...

Napoleon Dynamite voice: Gosh! I'm such a frickin' idiot!








NOTICE: The events detailed in this account are for the reading audience only, to be used at their sole discretion for the purpose of determining the mental prowess of the author. Any re-publication or sharing by word-of-mouth is forbidden unless previously approved by written consent of the author. For questions or to request written consent, please send a self addressed envelope to:

IMAGULLIBLENERD

PO Box 123

Suckerville USA

Crystal Ball

Ever wonder what life would be like if you could "cheat" and use a crystal ball to look into the future? How cool would that be! I have a sister who was insatiably addicted to "Miami Vice". I mean mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and medically addicted to that show. Thanks to her addiction, when I hear the words Crockett and Tubbs, I immediately think of fast cars, neon lights, ladies of the night, and pink flamingos (as opposed to a cooking experiment gone awry). She taped every episode. Religiously. My dad noticed the problem and acted quickly. I was evicted from my room so it could be turned into a VAULT to house the Miami Vice archives. But I can't complain, the back porch wasn't all that bad. And besides, I had a straight shot through the window to the TV for all those late night episodes of "Night Court" that my parents watched while maintaining they weren't fans.

Now, if my sister had had a crystal ball, she would have known that in the future the complete Miami Vice archives would be available on DVD. Imagine how that would have changed things... I would have grown up normal, with my own room. My dad wouldn't have had to buy stock in Maxell just to compensate for the amount of VHS tapes our household consumed. And my sister wouldn't have had to sacrifice all those nights trying to time the pause button just right to avoid taping commercials. We could have watched a good, wholesome, TV program together as a family, without the pressure of recording. It put everyone on edge you know. Just too much to endure. Would have been nice to watch it guilt free. Or at all...

If I could have had access to a crystal ball in my younger days... well let's just say I'd be much better off financially. Think of all the money I'd have saved by knowing which relationships were going nowhere. All the dinners, movies, eating out, picture shows, dinners... what else did I do on dates? Oh yeah, movies. Anywho, I sure could have saved a lot of money by not spending so much on certain girlfriends. In fact, it's kind of scary to think of how much the dead-end-date total would add up to when I really think about it. Especially considering the rise in cost of living related to dinners and movies. Crazy.

As for my brother in law, if he had had a crystal ball years ago, he would have known to turn his head at just the right moment. The moment when his baby girl decided to puke in his mouth as he was on his back holding her over his head. And my dad would have known not to get into the canoe that day. The day when we were at the family reunion at the lake. It was going to be a nice little jaunt in the canoe, just the two of us, when suddenly my sister decided she wanted to tag along. Unfortunately she swamped the canoe getting in and my dad could do nothing more than sit there, up to his armpits and gasping irritably at the cold water. And my mom, well she would have known to visually inspect the car before taking off down the road with the cat on top, claws dug in, fearing for its life. And she may have possibly looked for a better hiding place for all those Christmas presents from "Santa", which didn't seem to garner the surprise and excitement she anticipated.

A crystal ball in high school would have saved me the embarrassment from that one time when... on second thought, never mind.

If I'd had a crystal ball, I'd have seen the woman who'd brave hell and high water by committing to spend the rest of her life with me. And if she'd had a crystal ball... well, it's just a good thing she didn't! I would have seen that I was going to marry the funniest person in the world. And that we would have the cutest baby in the world. And the smartest. She's very advanced, a prodigy really. She can say "where is it?" three times fast. And I would have seen that surgery can truly clean up a marriage and make things smell like roses.

But most of all, if I had had a crystal ball, I would have lingered a little longer and hugged and kissed a little harder the last time I saw my mom before she passed away. I would have made it a point to say "I love you mom" everyday and not been such an ungrateful and uncontrollable teenager. I would have told her how much she truly meant, and how grateful I was for her.

Same goes for my dad. I would have taken work off and spent a few more days with him before the cancer took him. I would have shrugged off the awkwardness and opened up to him and tried harder to see him for the great man that he was, and not just as my rule-making-and-enforcing dad. I would have asked more advice, and listened more intently. I would have been more eager to help him with projects around the house and horse pasture. I would have been more observant of his interactions with others and his example of giving and service, instead of with what it took to be cool in the eyes of my friends. If only I'd had a crystal ball...

1- Howcome... we place so much importance on things that are unimportant?

I love you Mom & Dad

You are sorely missed

More Than Meets The Eye

Yup, it was that good. Good enough to deserve another picture on my blog. Good enough that I think I have a man-crush on Josh Duhamel and I think my wife has a woman-crush on Megan Fox. Weird, I know.

Seriously though, wow. Just wow.

No Howcomes today... No Whyzits...

Just a moment of silence in honor of the amazing spectacle that is...

TRANSFORMERS

Yo! Sbza! 2nd Post of the Day!

Take that homey! Two posts in one day! Now who's lagging behind sucka? Soon all of blogdom will be bowing to the master!

1- Howcome... I suddenly developed an ego about blogging of all things?

2- Whyzit... that keeping up with the bloggers-that-be is so addicting?

3- Howcome... you just wasted your time reading this crap? Ha! You're hooked aren't you?

Peace Out!

(Good Times)

Stuck In The Middle

So I think I'm experiencing a small identity crisis. Or maybe it's an epiphany? I guess it could be considered a mid-life soul search. I'm not sure, so you be the judge. As I was driving home last night in traffic I noticed the car in front of me was a Toyota Camry. My wife drives a Camry. Good car. What's so unusual about a Camry? Well this one had a different trim level than my wife's. It was an SE model. That's the more sporty one. All the lettering on it is "smoke" colored, the tailpipe has a sporty, larger pipe over the top of the real one, and the gauges and dials are different colors. Ours is only an LE model, or basically the base model. Does that make it any less of a car? Can it not pal around with the sporty ones? Then I remembered there is also an XLE model Camry. Oh snap! This one has all kinds of goodies, like sunroof, leather seats, alloy wheels, 6 disc changer, etc. It's for the more sophisticated and distinguished driver. That one is definitely out of our Camry's league. Ours only has a single CD player, no leather, no sunroof. I'm starting to feel bad for our car. No wonder it sits and sulks in the garage all the time, the other ones won't let it play with them. But underneath it all, aren't they all just a Camry? Same engine, same drive train, same body & frame? Wait a second! I'm such a sheep.

So why don't I have different trim levels? You know, one day I'm more like a sporty model, with tousled hair, stylin' clothes, and fast shoes. (And bulging pecs too). The next day I could be the more sophisticated model, with a leather jacket, sunglasses, expensive watch, and George Clooney hair. (Again with bulging pecs). Then of course from time to time I'd have to be just the base model. "Get back to work everyone. There's nothing to look at". (Except my bulging pecs). The bottom line is, I could appeal to a broader audience if I came with more available options right? Hmmm... This could be the beginning of a re-branding campaign for me. If I get out of line at home I can just blame it on the trim level for the day. "Sorry babe, I can't help it. Today I'm a smack talkin' SRT model with a kick-ass-take-no-prisoners trim level?"

The reason I'm boring you with this hideous car analogy is because I've noticed some things about myself lately. There was a country song back in the late 90's that adamantly stated "I'm old enough to know better, but still too young to care". I feel like that sometimes. And I guess this is where my identity crisis comes in. I'm old enough to remember the Carpenters, bell bottoms, and "Where's the beef?" but young enough to know that in music today Rhianna is just about the hottest thing going, Kelly Clarkson clashed with Clive Davis over her new album, and Linkin Park's new album got luke warm reviews. Oh, and there's that Maroon 5 guy too. I'm young enough to know that accusations are swirling that Cameron Diaz broke up magician Criss Angel's marriage and that Paris, Britney, and Lindsey need to all go away. I'm old enough to remember that there was once a time when Arnold and Sly were the definition of action hero and Intellivision could sucker even my dad into staying up all night playing. I'm old enough to know that the political landscape in America is shaky at best, video games suck your life away, and I-phones are cool no matter what your age. (Thanks for the preview Phillip!) When I drive home I'm torn between listening to seriously pressing issues on talk radio, or jamming to the Gym Class Heroes. Some days I drive very responsibly, and others like I'm at the center of a high speed chase. Some days I eat healthy, and other days I just eat myself stupid. As far as summer movies... you guessed it! Transformers... more than meets the eye.

When I buy clothes part of me says be practical, buy generic and don't spend a lot. The other part of me just wants the world to know what a rock star I really am and so I go all out. When I get paid I'm old enough to know I should put some of it in savings, but young enough to fritter it away on... stuff. I'm old enough to know "early to bed, early to rise" but young enough to indulge myself with some Jay Leno and a bowl of Frosted Mini Spooners before turning in around midnight. I'm old enough to know that spending time with family and friends is important, but young enough to be anti-social and lazy about doing it. I'm old enough to know I shouldn't waste time at work writing on this blog and young enough to just go ahead and do it. (By the way this blogging thing has really created some serious pressure for me. Other bloggers are light years ahead, doing an entry a day! Sometimes two! My co-worker said I really need to step it up. And I've had several comments from loyal readers that they can't wait for my next entry and love my blog. What if I fall short? What if the creative juices turn sour? What if some one's offended because they don't like the Camry? I'm gonna need a raise just to afford all the extra therapy, acupuncture, hypnosis, botox, and laser treatments to deal with this pressure!)

So can you see why I'm so perplexed? One minute I'm a hip, sporty SE. The next I'm an XLE looking at Rogaine, dentures, and what's on the menu at Chuck-o-Rama. Maybe it's just part of being 30 something and finding my place in life. Maybe it's a rite of passage of sorts, where one slowly transitions from adolescence into adulthood. Or maybe I'm just clinging to youth in all the wrong ways? Dr. Evil once said, "There's nothing more pathetic than an aging hipster". Is this what it's come to for me? An 80's kid still trying to keep up and be cool in a world that changes daily? Maybe my niece's husband was right. Maybe I should just comb it over and call it good.

1- Howcome... I started these stupid howcomes & whyzits, making it virtually impossible to keep producing good material in every post, thus suffering at the hands of the cyberspace hecklers?

2- Whyzit... so easy to eat Hostess chocolate donuts but I can barely choke down a banana in the morning?

3- Howcome... we all hide the fact that we pick our noses, even though we understand that it's an essential part of life, everyone does it, and it's perfectly natural and normal?

4- Whyzit... so easy to clean up your own kid's poop but you start dry heaving at the smell of someone else's kid's poop?

5- Whyzit... a sin to covet someone else's possessions when it's really just a matter of wanting to upgrade?

Blue Bouncy Ball

Saturday afternoon we were at my wife's brother's house hanging out and checking out their newly finished basement. We decided to do an impromptu barbecue, so my wife and I volunteered to make a quick run to the store. It was really hot that day, and my daughter had done great most of the day despite the heat and the fact she is getting her molars. But that all changed on the way to the store. Maybe it's because we were going to Wal-Mart (my daughter's very sensitive about their corporate bullying), or maybe it was just that she needed a nap, her teeth were probably killing her, and it was 20 billion degrees outside. She got pretty fussy, started crying and emphatically let us know she wasn't in the mood to be in her car seat.

We grabbed everything on the list except for lemon juice. Have you ever tried to find lemon juice in Wal-Mart? I don't recommend it. Order it online somewhere, it'll take the same amount of time, and the extra money you spend on shipping just offsets the cost of therapy from having to look for it in the store. My wife finally rounded up a store employee to ask where it was as I was calling the front desk to have them put out a missing persons report on their lemon juice. Even the store employee looked confused, almost nervous. He repeated several times, "I'm sorry, what was the question?" He's obviously been through their upper level company training program.

In the midst of all this our daughter was still not feeling too hot. It was pretty obvious her teeth were really hurting as she kept pulling at her ears and whimpering from time to time. We passed through the toy department in our search for lemon juice (why not?) and I found a big rack of bouncy balls. The kind you used to play with in pre-school. You know, the rubber ones with a belly button and swirly tye dye designs that remind you of some jaw breakers? Anywho, I grabbed one of these and started tossing it in the air and bouncing it on the floor. Next thing I knew my little girl was giggling and clapping and reaching out for the ball. It was pretty dirty and smelled horribly of rubber (I know, go figure) but I gave it to her just the same. She took that ball in her arms, which was about half her size, and hugged it and started patting it affectionately with her hand. Then she kissed it and began playing with it, laughing and giggling and just having a great time. My wife and I looked at each other and smiled and laughed. Who needs Orajel when you've got a blue bouncy ball?

1- Howcome... when I have a bad day I can't just pick up a blue bouncy ball and make it all go away?

2- Whyzit... so hard to go back to work on Monday morning? (and I love my job!)

3- Whyzit... whenever you park at the far end of the parking lot so no one doors you someone ALWAYS parks next to you and doors you?

4- Howcome... T-mobile will give a new customer a brand new phone that has a cool camera, MP3 player, memory card, and bluetooth while all they give an existing customer is some Vaseline and something to bite down on?

5- Whyzit... there's an organization to defend everyone and their dog (NAACP, Gay & Lesbian Coalition, Women's Rights Organization) but no one gives a flying fart about a 30 something heterosexual and happily married white guy? Where's my Al Sharpton!


Songs that stick in your head:
- Zombie by The Cranberries (that repetitive eh... eh... eh... is just too catchy)
- Theme to Greatest American Hero (thank you Seth)
- Anything by Nickelback (I hate those guys Jason!)
- Time Won't Let Me Go by the Bravery (it's like meth, one hit and it sticks)
- Glamorous by Fergie (sing it with me! G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S....)

In my CD player:
- One X by 3 Days Grace

Introduction

And so it begins...

A long, long time ago, in a nearly forgotten era, I was born. Ok, so maybe not too forgotten. I was born in the 70's which essentially means I grew up in the 80's. Gotta love big hair bands, parachute pants, and penny-pinching parents. I have a co-worker that recently started a blog. My family has a blog. My dog has a blog. Ross The Intern has a blog. Ok! Fine, I'll do it.

This will be a challenge for me in many ways. Probably most difficult will be biting my tongue. I have learned that less truly is more. But I sometimes ramble aimlessly and use far too many words to make a simple point. So the goal here is to keep it simple. I don't really know why I'm starting this blog honestly. I guess being a 30-something married man with a beautiful wife and 1yr old daughter means that I'm at that period in life where it's time to look inward, to search the inner realms of my soul, to get in touch with my humanity, and to learn how to express my thoughts and feelings. Or it could be that I'm just phishing for extra attention and something to do on the computer to make me feel important. Only time will tell. One thing is for sure; my daughter will provide a great deal of content for this blog (self explanatory).

In addition to my aimless ramblings, I will also make an attempt at humor and something to stimulate compelling thought from time to time. (Yeah, we'll see how that really goes). Mostly, I'm hoping that this blog will help me step back from my life and breathe for a minute. That it will give me a chance to realize just how good I've got it. That it will let me reflect on life in general while trying to keep my sense of humor amidst traffic jams, deadlines, diaper changes, and avoiding stories about Paris Hilton. And it is with that preface I introduce the Howcomes & Whyzits:

1- Whyzit... no matter what I eat for lunch (healthy or otherwise), I always wind up in front of my computer afterwards yawning and nodding off, red-eyed, drooling slightly, and generally feeling incapacitated for an hour or two?

2- Howcome... when I see someone with a "bat in the cave" I suddenly become very concerned with the welfare of my own "bats"?

3- Howcome... we all know what religion Mitt Romney belongs to but we don't have a clue where the other 9 hundred candidates go to church?

4- Whyzit... the more I concentrate on driving conservatively to save money on gas, the more I'm haunted with memories of long trips with my parents where I whined incessantly (to myself, of course) about how freakin' slow my dad was driving?

5- Howcome... my online persona can bench press 250 lbs, is tan and breathtakingly handsome, donates to charity, knows which fork to use for salad, can talk investments, is the epitomy of manliness and oozes with confidence, sophistication, and sex appeal? (I mean seriously, where did this guy come from?)

Well, that's enough for now. I really sucked at writing in my journal as a kid (something my mom always encouraged) so I'm hoping this is not both my first and last post to this blog. But I think I'll be okay. After all... my co-worker has a blog... my family has a blog... my dog... Ross