Names, they say a lot. Maybe too much.
Imagine you are set up on a blind date, what's your first question to the person? You ask what their name is. Often times you never ask whether or not the person is good looking. You can tell that from the name. Would you go on a blind date with a Gertrude? No. How about a Rebecca? Most likely.
Some names are just hotter than others. The best way to ensure your child is good looking is giving them a good name.
There is this girl in one of my classes. I noticed her one the first day of class. She was the kind of girl that I would like to date. Then I found out her name was Tammy. Tammy? What is that?
I was immediately turned off. It was weird. I had gone from complete infatuation. Asking this girl on a date had crossed my mind. Now I just saw her as a cute girl, an average one. I would no longer go out of my way to ask this girl out. If it happened, it happened, but I would not put forth the effort. All of this because I found out her name was Tammy.
Maybe if her name would have been Brittany, Abby or Sarah things would have been different.
It doesn't end there though.
Yesterday I found out some more information on her name. I found out how she spelled it. It's not Tammy, it's Tami. It doesn't make sense at all, but I fell in love. The name was the same, but the spelling completely changed my attitude towards this girl.
I'm more attracted to her now that I know her name is Tami then I was when I didn't know her name.
I don't get it. But I love this girl now.
_________________
Remember that song "Steal My Kisses" by Ben Harper? Call me crazy, but I don't think Ben had me stealing kisses from Justin in mind when he wrote the song.
A lot of you have probably heard by now, or saw, I was on the kiss cam last night along with Justin.
We were sitting in the first row. We had some third row seats, but when we were told the band wasn't going to be there and we could sit there, we made the move. Moving was a tough decision though. We didn't make up our minds easily. It was a good move in the end. In hindsight we spent to much time contemplating the move.
I took the end of the row, I like the end. Justin sat next to me.
This is where Loni comes in. She sat next to Justin.
The second media timeout of the half rolled around. That time out means one thing, kiss cam. (Although it used to be the first media timeout. I don't understand the change, but it was made.)
Here came the camera guy. Right in front of Justin and Loni. When I say right in front, I mean right in front. The camera was literally a foot away from their faces. It was awkward. It's one thing to have the camera zoomed in on you when you are a few rows back, but when it's right in front of your face it makes the pressure to perform immense.
I wasn't even on camera, but it was so close to me that I felt awkward. I should have been on camera. It has always been my dream to be on the kiss cam. I was so close. And now Justing would be taking my kiss cam glory. I couldn't let that happen.
I readied myself, the camera still uncomfortably too close. I looked up at the screen. As soon as Justin and Loni were on it... Bam! I made my move. Justin didn't even see it coming. I leaned over and stole his kiss.
I seized the day. Opportunities like that don't come around often, opportunities to become great. I saw it and I took. I became great for that brief moment. I left Justing laying on the ground in heap as I climbed the mountain of greatness and stole his kiss.
Take that Justin.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Re-living remembering memories and stealing memories
I want everyone to know this going in, today's web log may be sub par. For measuring purposes sub par compared to my normal work is really, really crappy, instead of the usual really crappy.
Today I am working at a disadvantage. I'm pretty sure I didn't get all of the conditioner washed out of my hair during my morning shower. I didn't realize it until I was fully dressed. I tried to wash it out by sticking my head under the sink. The sink just isn't the same as the shower head. You can't get it all out. I got a lot of it, but there is still some there. I think it's more psychological than physical (although my head does feel a little heavier). Either way, my writing is going to be severely affected.
I was driving around just to drive last night. It's been a while since I'd done. I used to do it all the time. I'd just drive around listening to music. I think I'd partially do it just to justify my itunes addiction. If I drove around I'd listen to the music I just bought, therefore making me feel vindicated for buying it. Just for the record I added up my total itunes expenses the other day.
Hearing some songs would take me back to a time and place. I'd just drive around remembering a memory until the next song came. If there was no memory connected to a song I'd remember something and make the connection to the song. Thus making a memory connected to the song.
This is not quite the way it worked last night. Songs still brought back memories. The problem is that they were memories of me driving around remembering memories. I could see myself driving in the car, but I couldn't remember what I was thinking about. The only way I knew that I wasn't having an out of body experience, watching myself drive, is that I was driving in a different location from what I was seeing in my mind.
What started out as me trying to lock away memories by tying them to songs as I drove has now gone south. It's just me driving around thinking about how I used to drive around. I don't make memories anymore, unless they are of me driving around. I don't do anything anymore.
I suppose the easiest way to change this is to start doing stuff. Start making new memories. Then when I drive around I'll have stuff to lock away in my memory. Doing stuff is hard though. I've found an easier way.
Stealing memories.
I was at the basketball game the other day. I had to pee, so I went to the bathroom (for those that are wondering, the answer is no, I didn't wash my hands).
I walked into the bathroom. The only people in there were these two kids, sitting up against the wall. The had to be around 13 years of age. One of the kids was bawling. The other kid has his arm around the crybaby. Crybaby kept trying to wipe his tears away. He was probably too cool to cry. He couldn't let his friend see him cry. I don't think they even noticed that I had come into the bathroom.
"It's all right man," said the non-crying kid. An awkward pause persisted before he spoke again. "She said she still want to be friends. She just doesn't like you that way anymore."
Halftime of the basketball game started. Hoards of men began to flood the bathroom. The two kids continued to sit up against the wall, oblivious to the sea of men now in the bathroom. Crybaby was still crying, his friends arm still around him.
I don't know who the situation was more awkward for. The men who had just walked into the bathroom and had no idea what these two were doing or me, who knew.
What a great memory for those two kids. I'm going to take it. It's going to take some time, but one day I will run into an old buddy (let's call him Casey) and have this exchange.
"Hey Casey!" i say. "What's up man?"
"Oh hey man! I haven't seen you in years."
"I know, it has been forever."
This is where the long pause happens. There is always this pause when you run into an old buddy that you've lost contact with over the years. The pause happens because you have nothing to talk about. If you did have something to talk about you never would have lost contact with each other in the first place. So one of you goes and brings back up an old memory the two of you shared. You'll both revel in the reminiscing of the memory. Then one of two things happen. You finish reminiscing and you both stand there awkwardly and eventually walk away from each other. Or you start talking about what each other has been up to since you last saw each other. I don't know what's going to happen with this particular meeting. I could speculate, but that isn't what this story is about. It's about the reminiscing.
"Hey," I say. "Remember that time we went to the Aggie basketball game in 7th grade?"
"Do I? Which time?"
"The time that Ashlee dumped me. We were at the top of section L, just hanging out like we always did. She just walked up with a bunch of her friends and dumped me. They all walked away and I just stood there crying. You put your arm around me and walked me to the bathroom. How long did we sit there? Thirty minutes?"
"At least, man. At least. You were pretty shaken up."
"Yeah I was. I don't even know why anymore. What's that whore up to these days?"
"I don't know. I heard she joined a convent."
He knows she didn't join a convent. He just doesn't want to tell me what she is really doing. She's in porn now. But he's still a good friend that cares about my feelings. Even if we haven't seen each other in years. He isn't going to tell me that she is sleeping with vacuums now, but she wouldn't even fake, 7th grade date me.
I miss Ashlee.
Today I am working at a disadvantage. I'm pretty sure I didn't get all of the conditioner washed out of my hair during my morning shower. I didn't realize it until I was fully dressed. I tried to wash it out by sticking my head under the sink. The sink just isn't the same as the shower head. You can't get it all out. I got a lot of it, but there is still some there. I think it's more psychological than physical (although my head does feel a little heavier). Either way, my writing is going to be severely affected.
I was driving around just to drive last night. It's been a while since I'd done. I used to do it all the time. I'd just drive around listening to music. I think I'd partially do it just to justify my itunes addiction. If I drove around I'd listen to the music I just bought, therefore making me feel vindicated for buying it. Just for the record I added up my total itunes expenses the other day.
Hearing some songs would take me back to a time and place. I'd just drive around remembering a memory until the next song came. If there was no memory connected to a song I'd remember something and make the connection to the song. Thus making a memory connected to the song.
This is not quite the way it worked last night. Songs still brought back memories. The problem is that they were memories of me driving around remembering memories. I could see myself driving in the car, but I couldn't remember what I was thinking about. The only way I knew that I wasn't having an out of body experience, watching myself drive, is that I was driving in a different location from what I was seeing in my mind.
What started out as me trying to lock away memories by tying them to songs as I drove has now gone south. It's just me driving around thinking about how I used to drive around. I don't make memories anymore, unless they are of me driving around. I don't do anything anymore.
I suppose the easiest way to change this is to start doing stuff. Start making new memories. Then when I drive around I'll have stuff to lock away in my memory. Doing stuff is hard though. I've found an easier way.
Stealing memories.
I was at the basketball game the other day. I had to pee, so I went to the bathroom (for those that are wondering, the answer is no, I didn't wash my hands).
I walked into the bathroom. The only people in there were these two kids, sitting up against the wall. The had to be around 13 years of age. One of the kids was bawling. The other kid has his arm around the crybaby. Crybaby kept trying to wipe his tears away. He was probably too cool to cry. He couldn't let his friend see him cry. I don't think they even noticed that I had come into the bathroom.
"It's all right man," said the non-crying kid. An awkward pause persisted before he spoke again. "She said she still want to be friends. She just doesn't like you that way anymore."
Halftime of the basketball game started. Hoards of men began to flood the bathroom. The two kids continued to sit up against the wall, oblivious to the sea of men now in the bathroom. Crybaby was still crying, his friends arm still around him.
I don't know who the situation was more awkward for. The men who had just walked into the bathroom and had no idea what these two were doing or me, who knew.
What a great memory for those two kids. I'm going to take it. It's going to take some time, but one day I will run into an old buddy (let's call him Casey) and have this exchange.
"Hey Casey!" i say. "What's up man?"
"Oh hey man! I haven't seen you in years."
"I know, it has been forever."
This is where the long pause happens. There is always this pause when you run into an old buddy that you've lost contact with over the years. The pause happens because you have nothing to talk about. If you did have something to talk about you never would have lost contact with each other in the first place. So one of you goes and brings back up an old memory the two of you shared. You'll both revel in the reminiscing of the memory. Then one of two things happen. You finish reminiscing and you both stand there awkwardly and eventually walk away from each other. Or you start talking about what each other has been up to since you last saw each other. I don't know what's going to happen with this particular meeting. I could speculate, but that isn't what this story is about. It's about the reminiscing.
"Hey," I say. "Remember that time we went to the Aggie basketball game in 7th grade?"
"Do I? Which time?"
"The time that Ashlee dumped me. We were at the top of section L, just hanging out like we always did. She just walked up with a bunch of her friends and dumped me. They all walked away and I just stood there crying. You put your arm around me and walked me to the bathroom. How long did we sit there? Thirty minutes?"
"At least, man. At least. You were pretty shaken up."
"Yeah I was. I don't even know why anymore. What's that whore up to these days?"
"I don't know. I heard she joined a convent."
He knows she didn't join a convent. He just doesn't want to tell me what she is really doing. She's in porn now. But he's still a good friend that cares about my feelings. Even if we haven't seen each other in years. He isn't going to tell me that she is sleeping with vacuums now, but she wouldn't even fake, 7th grade date me.
I miss Ashlee.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
What Is This 'S'?
I now have my second running thing for this here web log. I have the question thing. I'll continue to make up questions for that, at least until you start sending in real ones. That'll probably happen every few weeks.
The new one will be done about once a month or so. I would do it more, but there just isn't enough 'S' being sold in the Logan area to do it that much.
I stole the idea from Adam Carolla's radio show. He has this segment that he does called "Who The 'F' Sells this 'S'?" They find 'S' on craigslist.com and then they find out who the 'F' is selling it.
Now usually when you steal ideas you at least make it the same if not better. Not me. I take the idea and make it worse. Mostly it's because I'm too lazy to actually get a hold of these people and figure out who the 'F' they are. Who knows though? Maybe if I get a positive response I'll start emailing these people and start to figure out who the 'F' sells this 'S', instead of just finding 'S'.
So welcome to the first installment of What Is This 'S'?
This lady is looking for a diet buddy. Seems like a good idea I suppose. She says she is looking for someone in the same boat as her though. The problem with that is she is in the unmotivated, poor time management boat. Shouldn't she be looking for someone the opposite of that? If she finds someone the same as her aren't these two ladies just going to end up sitting on the couch watching Oprah, eating bon bons and gaining more weight in a few months?
It appears as if she has already been on a "calorie diet" for 3 weeks. According to her she has already lost 12 lbs. You see that people? All you need to do to lose weight is to stop eating so F'ing much.
House swap?. First of all this guy is from Surprise, AZ which is sweet. If you have ever wanted to move there and you are a home owner in Logan, or a I assume the Logan area, this is your chance. I guess this is just a straight up swap of houses. No money involved. This seems weird to me. Apparently this kind of thing is fairly common, as there is a section devoted just to house swaps like this.
Beef to your house?. I don't even know what the hell this is. I don't know if I want to know what this is. "We will be in your town let me know if you want anyone." That's all it says. It's only $1 so if you want "anyone", beef, or whatever this is, here is your chance.
Doggy stepper. "these are awesome for your animal to get on high places. i have an extra. you can buy it." How many times have you seen a high place and wished your animal could get up there? Well don't let it happen to you again. Buy this doggy stepper for $1.
My favorite thing about craigslist is that you actually have to deal with these people. It isn't like ebay where you just indirectly deal with the seller/buyer, then get your stuff in the mail. On craigslist you actually go to this person's house or meet them somewhere. These are the kind of people I need in my life. The kind that sell doggy steppers for $1.
Too Soon?. I actually don't have a problem with this. Except that they had to mention that the picture is pre 9/11. No crap.
License plates. This is another person that I want to meet. I'm sure this Rosie lady is an old grandma. She has to be old if she just gives her phone number out like that.
Fat girl looking for cap and gown. Priceless.
Another one of those people that I want to meet. They post this every Sunday. They really want them.
On second thought, maybe I do need to fully steal Adam's idea and find out who the 'F' sells this 'S'.
My favorite item of the week.. It's an HGTV. If you love the home and/or garden, this is the tv for you. Sure it only gets one channel, but the picture on that one channel is awesome.
The new one will be done about once a month or so. I would do it more, but there just isn't enough 'S' being sold in the Logan area to do it that much.
I stole the idea from Adam Carolla's radio show. He has this segment that he does called "Who The 'F' Sells this 'S'?" They find 'S' on craigslist.com and then they find out who the 'F' is selling it.
Now usually when you steal ideas you at least make it the same if not better. Not me. I take the idea and make it worse. Mostly it's because I'm too lazy to actually get a hold of these people and figure out who the 'F' they are. Who knows though? Maybe if I get a positive response I'll start emailing these people and start to figure out who the 'F' sells this 'S', instead of just finding 'S'.
So welcome to the first installment of What Is This 'S'?
This lady is looking for a diet buddy. Seems like a good idea I suppose. She says she is looking for someone in the same boat as her though. The problem with that is she is in the unmotivated, poor time management boat. Shouldn't she be looking for someone the opposite of that? If she finds someone the same as her aren't these two ladies just going to end up sitting on the couch watching Oprah, eating bon bons and gaining more weight in a few months?
It appears as if she has already been on a "calorie diet" for 3 weeks. According to her she has already lost 12 lbs. You see that people? All you need to do to lose weight is to stop eating so F'ing much.
House swap?. First of all this guy is from Surprise, AZ which is sweet. If you have ever wanted to move there and you are a home owner in Logan, or a I assume the Logan area, this is your chance. I guess this is just a straight up swap of houses. No money involved. This seems weird to me. Apparently this kind of thing is fairly common, as there is a section devoted just to house swaps like this.
Beef to your house?. I don't even know what the hell this is. I don't know if I want to know what this is. "We will be in your town let me know if you want anyone." That's all it says. It's only $1 so if you want "anyone", beef, or whatever this is, here is your chance.
Doggy stepper. "these are awesome for your animal to get on high places. i have an extra. you can buy it." How many times have you seen a high place and wished your animal could get up there? Well don't let it happen to you again. Buy this doggy stepper for $1.
My favorite thing about craigslist is that you actually have to deal with these people. It isn't like ebay where you just indirectly deal with the seller/buyer, then get your stuff in the mail. On craigslist you actually go to this person's house or meet them somewhere. These are the kind of people I need in my life. The kind that sell doggy steppers for $1.
Too Soon?. I actually don't have a problem with this. Except that they had to mention that the picture is pre 9/11. No crap.
License plates. This is another person that I want to meet. I'm sure this Rosie lady is an old grandma. She has to be old if she just gives her phone number out like that.
Fat girl looking for cap and gown. Priceless.
Another one of those people that I want to meet. They post this every Sunday. They really want them.
On second thought, maybe I do need to fully steal Adam's idea and find out who the 'F' sells this 'S'.
My favorite item of the week.. It's an HGTV. If you love the home and/or garden, this is the tv for you. Sure it only gets one channel, but the picture on that one channel is awesome.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Me The Hero
It took me less than five hours after writing yesterdays web log to find out that people falling isn't always funny. To be fair though, I did say it was funny when people slip and fall, not just fall.
Maybe I'm not a hero. I was just doing what anyone else would have done. You can choose not to call me a hero if you want. As for me, I consider myself a hero. If you don't find me to be a hero you can just shut up.
I was at Wal*Mart doing my weekly shopping. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except I went at two o'clock instead of the usual 5 o'clock. Other than that everything was normal. I was coming out of aisle 10, heading north.
(Please note I don't actually remember what aisle I was coming out of, but for plot purposes let's just say it was aisle 10. For those that don't know their directions, if you come out of one of the aisles at Wal*Mart heading north you would be going towards the meat section.)
I exited aisle 10 and there was a cart in the way. I could still get around it, but it was a nuisance. Who did this guy think he was, just standing there? He was in the way and he didn't seem to care. He just stood there. Right between aisles 9 and 10 in front of a display case of Gatorade. At least he could have pulled his car parallel to the display case, but no, he had to have his cart at a 45 degree angle. I went around him. A nuisance, but he was old, probably in his 70s, so I figured I'd give the old guy a break.
I needed to get some meat, so I went over and got some. I turned my cart around and headed back towards the aisles. The old man was still there. Standing right in front of the Gatorade display case, between aisles 9 and 10. He hadn't moved an inch.
I stopped my cart about five feet away from the old man. I looked down aisle 9 to see if I needed anything on it. I didn't want to walk all the way down it if I didn't need anything down there. I searched the aisle. I kept glancing at the old man. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. Eventually I stopped scanning the aisle and just stared at the old man.
He looked dazed and confused. He only had five or six items in his cart. He was probably thinking about what else he needed to put in there, I thought.
It'd been about two minutes since I first spotted the old man. He hadn't moved the entire time.
He finally moved.
His knees bent. They stayed bent for a few seconds. Then they started to shake. It was like he was trying to stand back up straight, but he couldn't do it. The front of of his cart started to rise. He was putting all of his weight on the handle, trying to stay upright.
I was done watching. I left my cart there and started to walk towards the man.
"Si..."
I couldn't even say one word before he was on the ground, flat on his back. He didn't hit the ground hard. The cart had slowed his fall. The cart was going down with him though. He had held onto it as he fell, only letting go when he hit the ground. The front end of the cart was heading for his head.
I reached my right hand out, grabbed the cart and picked it up. I moved it away from the old man and set it down.
By the time I'd set the cart down there were already 3 or 4 people around the old man. One lady was kneeling next to him, her husband joined her shortly after.
One guy had pulled his phone out. He bent down, informed us all that he'd call 911. For some reason he had to hold his phone out and wave it in front of everyone's face as he said it. I half expected him to ask what the number was.
If the old man ever lost consciousness it was only for a split second. He was responding to the old lady that was kneeling next to him the whole time. She repeatedly asked him if he was all right. His only response was that he was diabetic.
The lady on her knees looked up and asked for some juice, candy, anything. I reached for the bag of candy in my cart.
(Now some of you may be saying, bull crap. You think that since there was a bag of candy in my cart that I'm making the story up. That's not the case. Most of you know that I hardly ever eat candy. I certainly don't eat it enough to be buying a bag of it. Those of you that know that probably also know that along with my grocery shopping, I go for my mom too. She has me buy bags of candy occasionally. I guess there is this bowl at work that she always puts it in. Supposedly no one knows that it's her that keeps putting candy in the bowl. They all just think it's the magical bowl of candy that miraculously get filled.)
I couldn't even grab the bag of candy fast enough. One man had already ripped a bottle of Gatorade off the display case and had opened it. He handed the bottle to the lady kneeling next to the old man. Another gentleman helped the man sit up and drink the Gatorade.
I didn't know what to do. Everyone else there seemed to have everything under control. I was just in the way now.
A few of the old man's items had fallen out of his cart during the fall. I walked over, picked them up and put them back in his cart. I don't know what good that did. He probably wasn't going to finish his shopping that day. Having put his items back in his cart, I continued my shopping.
I made my way towards the produce. I kept think about the old man. About how he just fell. How I was just upset with him for being in the way. I felt bad. I was kind of scared too. What if I had missed the cart? The man appeared to be all right, but what if the cart fell on him? I stopped thinking about the old man.
I tried to concentrate on finishing my shopping. It was hard with the policemen and paramedics running by.
I thought about the Gatorade. Who pays for it? Does Wal*Mart just bite the bullet on that one? Do they make the guy who pulled it off the shelve pay? Does the old man pay for drinking it?
Maybe I'm not a hero. I was just doing what anyone else would have done. You can choose not to call me a hero if you want. As for me, I consider myself a hero. If you don't find me to be a hero you can just shut up.
I was at Wal*Mart doing my weekly shopping. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except I went at two o'clock instead of the usual 5 o'clock. Other than that everything was normal. I was coming out of aisle 10, heading north.
(Please note I don't actually remember what aisle I was coming out of, but for plot purposes let's just say it was aisle 10. For those that don't know their directions, if you come out of one of the aisles at Wal*Mart heading north you would be going towards the meat section.)
I exited aisle 10 and there was a cart in the way. I could still get around it, but it was a nuisance. Who did this guy think he was, just standing there? He was in the way and he didn't seem to care. He just stood there. Right between aisles 9 and 10 in front of a display case of Gatorade. At least he could have pulled his car parallel to the display case, but no, he had to have his cart at a 45 degree angle. I went around him. A nuisance, but he was old, probably in his 70s, so I figured I'd give the old guy a break.
I needed to get some meat, so I went over and got some. I turned my cart around and headed back towards the aisles. The old man was still there. Standing right in front of the Gatorade display case, between aisles 9 and 10. He hadn't moved an inch.
I stopped my cart about five feet away from the old man. I looked down aisle 9 to see if I needed anything on it. I didn't want to walk all the way down it if I didn't need anything down there. I searched the aisle. I kept glancing at the old man. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. Eventually I stopped scanning the aisle and just stared at the old man.
He looked dazed and confused. He only had five or six items in his cart. He was probably thinking about what else he needed to put in there, I thought.
It'd been about two minutes since I first spotted the old man. He hadn't moved the entire time.
He finally moved.
His knees bent. They stayed bent for a few seconds. Then they started to shake. It was like he was trying to stand back up straight, but he couldn't do it. The front of of his cart started to rise. He was putting all of his weight on the handle, trying to stay upright.
I was done watching. I left my cart there and started to walk towards the man.
"Si..."
I couldn't even say one word before he was on the ground, flat on his back. He didn't hit the ground hard. The cart had slowed his fall. The cart was going down with him though. He had held onto it as he fell, only letting go when he hit the ground. The front end of the cart was heading for his head.
I reached my right hand out, grabbed the cart and picked it up. I moved it away from the old man and set it down.
By the time I'd set the cart down there were already 3 or 4 people around the old man. One lady was kneeling next to him, her husband joined her shortly after.
One guy had pulled his phone out. He bent down, informed us all that he'd call 911. For some reason he had to hold his phone out and wave it in front of everyone's face as he said it. I half expected him to ask what the number was.
If the old man ever lost consciousness it was only for a split second. He was responding to the old lady that was kneeling next to him the whole time. She repeatedly asked him if he was all right. His only response was that he was diabetic.
The lady on her knees looked up and asked for some juice, candy, anything. I reached for the bag of candy in my cart.
(Now some of you may be saying, bull crap. You think that since there was a bag of candy in my cart that I'm making the story up. That's not the case. Most of you know that I hardly ever eat candy. I certainly don't eat it enough to be buying a bag of it. Those of you that know that probably also know that along with my grocery shopping, I go for my mom too. She has me buy bags of candy occasionally. I guess there is this bowl at work that she always puts it in. Supposedly no one knows that it's her that keeps putting candy in the bowl. They all just think it's the magical bowl of candy that miraculously get filled.)
I couldn't even grab the bag of candy fast enough. One man had already ripped a bottle of Gatorade off the display case and had opened it. He handed the bottle to the lady kneeling next to the old man. Another gentleman helped the man sit up and drink the Gatorade.
I didn't know what to do. Everyone else there seemed to have everything under control. I was just in the way now.
A few of the old man's items had fallen out of his cart during the fall. I walked over, picked them up and put them back in his cart. I don't know what good that did. He probably wasn't going to finish his shopping that day. Having put his items back in his cart, I continued my shopping.
I made my way towards the produce. I kept think about the old man. About how he just fell. How I was just upset with him for being in the way. I felt bad. I was kind of scared too. What if I had missed the cart? The man appeared to be all right, but what if the cart fell on him? I stopped thinking about the old man.
I tried to concentrate on finishing my shopping. It was hard with the policemen and paramedics running by.
I thought about the Gatorade. Who pays for it? Does Wal*Mart just bite the bullet on that one? Do they make the guy who pulled it off the shelve pay? Does the old man pay for drinking it?
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Real Friends Notice When Their Friends Fall
We've all seen it. We all think it's funny. I don't care who you are, when someone slips and falls, it's funny. Often times hilarious.
It's winter now. People fall more. That's really the only good thing about winter.
I was lucky enough to witness someone slip the other day.
I was walking to class. Maybe I was walking home. I don't remember, but I guess it doesn't really matter where I was going. I was walking alone. Not surprising since I have no friends.
I was just walking along, looking at people as I sometimes do. It's probably creepy, but I don't care. I spotted a group of three just ahead of me, one guy, two girls. I was jealous. They were probably friends. They all had someplace to go and they were doing it together. I had someplace to go and I was alone. I could have cried.
I almost did start crying. Before I could it happened. One of the girls just fell. Not just any fall. The best kind of fall there is. The hands in the pocket fall. It was made even better by the fact that the two she was walking with didn't even notice. They walked at least ten feet before they noticed their walking partner was no longer with them.
The whole scene was hilarious. I wanted to laugh. I couldn't. I didn't want to look like a dick. I held my laughter in.
There is a problem when you hold laughter in. It always comes out. It doesn't come out as a normal laugh. It's always just some muffled slight chuckle, which in it's self is hilarious. So you laugh at that. You're left laughing at yourself trying not to laugh and the original hilarious event, in this case the girl slipping on the ice. Only you are still trying to hold your laughter in. The vicious cycle just keeps going. The only way to end it is with one big belly laugh.
That's what happened to me. I didn't want to look like I dick. I did. Not only did I look like a dick, I looked like an idiot for trying to hold my laughter in. I realized you might as well just laugh the first time. Sure you'll like like a dick, but at least you won't look like an idiot too.
After thinking about the merits of not holding laughter in I realized something. Those people weren't friends. They just happened to be walking together. People can't do that.
They should have to walk alone. People think they are friends when they walk together. Then people walking alone, like me, feel bad. We almost cry, sometimes we do.
The next time you walk around campus with someone ask yourself this question. If this person fell would I notice?
If the answer is no, stop walking them. You aren't friends. Stop acting like you have friends. Walk alone with the rest of the friendless.
If the answer is yes, you may continue walking with them. But please be mindful of those around you. Those of us that have no one to walk around with. Don't get to friendly with your friends as you walk. We might cry. We're lonely walking by ourselves. No one notices us, unless we fall.
In case anyone cares Jack Johnson's new cd came out today. I pre-ordered it so long ago, I'd forgotten about it. Then it just started downloading today.
Due to the fact that no one seems to know who Adam Carolla is, I might not ever write that web log. Turns out only half the people I talk to know who he is. And that is after I go on for minutes about him, then it's like "oh yeah, that guy." Only two people have known who he is from his name alone. I don't know why. It's Adam Carolla. Everyone should know who he is. Maybe I should wait till next month when his movie comes out. Then people will know who he is. Hopefully his movie, 'The Hammer', does well. Then someone might let him make 'Pedoph-isle'.
It's winter now. People fall more. That's really the only good thing about winter.
I was lucky enough to witness someone slip the other day.
I was walking to class. Maybe I was walking home. I don't remember, but I guess it doesn't really matter where I was going. I was walking alone. Not surprising since I have no friends.
I was just walking along, looking at people as I sometimes do. It's probably creepy, but I don't care. I spotted a group of three just ahead of me, one guy, two girls. I was jealous. They were probably friends. They all had someplace to go and they were doing it together. I had someplace to go and I was alone. I could have cried.
I almost did start crying. Before I could it happened. One of the girls just fell. Not just any fall. The best kind of fall there is. The hands in the pocket fall. It was made even better by the fact that the two she was walking with didn't even notice. They walked at least ten feet before they noticed their walking partner was no longer with them.
The whole scene was hilarious. I wanted to laugh. I couldn't. I didn't want to look like a dick. I held my laughter in.
There is a problem when you hold laughter in. It always comes out. It doesn't come out as a normal laugh. It's always just some muffled slight chuckle, which in it's self is hilarious. So you laugh at that. You're left laughing at yourself trying not to laugh and the original hilarious event, in this case the girl slipping on the ice. Only you are still trying to hold your laughter in. The vicious cycle just keeps going. The only way to end it is with one big belly laugh.
That's what happened to me. I didn't want to look like I dick. I did. Not only did I look like a dick, I looked like an idiot for trying to hold my laughter in. I realized you might as well just laugh the first time. Sure you'll like like a dick, but at least you won't look like an idiot too.
After thinking about the merits of not holding laughter in I realized something. Those people weren't friends. They just happened to be walking together. People can't do that.
They should have to walk alone. People think they are friends when they walk together. Then people walking alone, like me, feel bad. We almost cry, sometimes we do.
The next time you walk around campus with someone ask yourself this question. If this person fell would I notice?
If the answer is no, stop walking them. You aren't friends. Stop acting like you have friends. Walk alone with the rest of the friendless.
If the answer is yes, you may continue walking with them. But please be mindful of those around you. Those of us that have no one to walk around with. Don't get to friendly with your friends as you walk. We might cry. We're lonely walking by ourselves. No one notices us, unless we fall.
In case anyone cares Jack Johnson's new cd came out today. I pre-ordered it so long ago, I'd forgotten about it. Then it just started downloading today.
Due to the fact that no one seems to know who Adam Carolla is, I might not ever write that web log. Turns out only half the people I talk to know who he is. And that is after I go on for minutes about him, then it's like "oh yeah, that guy." Only two people have known who he is from his name alone. I don't know why. It's Adam Carolla. Everyone should know who he is. Maybe I should wait till next month when his movie comes out. Then people will know who he is. Hopefully his movie, 'The Hammer', does well. Then someone might let him make 'Pedoph-isle'.
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