Heat comes before the Fall

Summer is over...thank God! It may not feel quite like summer is completely over because it's still pretty effing hot some days but hey, it was around 60 degrees last night and I got cold so let's count it. Ah Fall...let me go ahead and count the ways that I love thee. First the whole cooling off thing is just awesome...keep it up. Next I like it when the leaves fall...boom...word play...Fall as in the season and fall as in the act of traveling in a downward trajectory under the influence of gravity...right? Side note I think there's something poetic about driving or walking or riding or whatever method of travel you chose when the leaves are all falling off the trees and showering you with colorful crisps of vegetation. And next you get Halloween and Thanksgiving, which are both sweet holidays...well Halloween more-so than Thanksgiving...What?!? Another one?!? So close to the last one?!?(sweet as in candy because that's what you get at Halloween, in reality I like Thanksgiving better but I do like Halloween a lot) So what word is synonymous with Halloween, besides candy and costumes and trick-or-treat? Goodwill, but not in a peace and Goodwill towards men because that goes along with my favorite holiday, which is Christmas. No...I mean Goodwill in a thrift store, great way to find a Halloween costume kind of way. Ever since I started working at Goodwill I have spent much more time in the stores mainly because I used to have to walk through it to get to the bathroom. While it is a perfectly valid place to find real and vintage clothing that you could wear every day...it is also a perfectly valid place to find ridiculous clothing that would help create a fantastic Halloween costume. This year my fiance and I are going to attempt to be gnomes of the garden variety so that means it's time to hit up the Goodwill stores in my area. My idea was Peter Pan and Tinkerbell but I like gnomes too. I think I honestly just wanted to wear green tights because I like green and I wore tights in elementary school a few times for plays and stuff and they were pretty comfortable. Of course that was before I had leg hair so it may be a completely different experience now but oh well...maybe next year I can figure that out. So here's David's awesome plan for finding a Halloween costume at Goodwill: 1. Get a plan...look on the internet for pictures or examples or tutorials of what you're going to be and decide what you need to make that dream a disguised reality. Goodwill's tend to be a bit organized in a different way so it would be easy to get overwhelmed. 2. Go shopping...if you have any friends then ask them to go. If you don't have any friends then maybe try to make some or just go alone, whatever you're most comfortable with. The chance for fun and laughter is fairly high so it's best to share that with someone if you can. 3. Don't be rash...if something doesn't fit you or you find something that isn't in your costume but gives you another great costume idea then I'd say resist and try to stick to the plan. Changing plans would lead to the chance to get overwhelmed, but if you prefer a spontaneous, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of lifestyle then this may be the option for you. If not then use your new idea as a plan B in case you can't find all the necessary pieces needed to complete your original idea. 4. Pay for your stuff...don't be a douche and steal. Just because it's less expensive than normal places and they sell second-hand clothes, doesn't give you the right to steal. If this isn't even a worry for you then I'm sorry if that sounded accusatory, but I have to watch out for the company that gives me a paycheck. 5. Go home...and put it all together. This is the time where all the pieces of your plan can come together, and you can prance around in front of mirrors if you have them and pretend that you actually are the character you're dressing up as, it might be a healthy use of your imagination and a chance to play pretend. And that's it...that's all I've got. I know it's a pretty bichin plan...let me explain real quick about my newest trend I'm starting. Bichin (by-chin) - a variety of the profane word that means female dog but it's acceptable in all societal situations and it means awesome or really rad and isn't profane in the least. Feel free to use it freely! Today is October second and it smells like nostalgia outside, which means it smells like fire and dead leaves. It's enjoyable to be outside and the holidays are fast approaching. Goodbye summer...you won't be missed.

Engagement Chicken

So in case you've been living in a fairly comfortable hole in the ground complete with modern technology like running water, electricity and some sort of temperature control device that all just so happens to be located under a rock, I'll tell you and the world that I'm engaged!

If I had the ability to climb a mountain and wasn't afraid that shouting while positioned at the top of a mountain would cause an avalanche or rock-slide that would completely obliterate anything in its path, then I would most definitely shout it from the mountain. Instead I do the next best thing which is ask everyone I see these days, even if they already know my fiance, if they've met my fiance. You might think that that sounds a little bit annoying, but you'd be wrong because I'm awesome and not annoying in the least.

Pushing all that aside being engaged is pretty cool, but to me it sort of epitomizes what life is for children and young adults, a lot of waiting.

It seems that all my life I've been waiting for the next step in life. When I was a baby I was waiting to go to school so I could do normal people things like read and write and make friends. Then during school it seems like I was always waiting for summer vacation. Then I was waiting to go to middle school, then high school, then being able to drive, then college and then finding a career. Even while Meghan and I were dating and lived far apart, I was always waiting for the next time we would get to see each other. Then when we finally lived in the same city, we were waiting to get engaged and now we're waiting to get married.

I think it would be ignorant of me to assume that once this stage of waiting is over, I'll be done with the waiting stage of my life. I'm sure there will be plenty of things to wait for in the next stages of my life and I'm sure those things will make themselves painfully apparent.

This waiting game used to really bother me. My justification for this was that it was taking away from my experiencing the present because if you're always looking forward to the future then there's no time to look elsewhere. But I've since changed my mind simply because this waiting is a form of anticipation for me. It's almost like I'm not willing to just be complacent with where I am, but rather that I always want something different.

To me this is exciting. And obviously there is an area between always waiting for the next step and enjoying the time we have in the moment, and I think I do have a happy medium between the two. This doesn't mean I'm not happy or not content with the life I have now because I am, and things seem to be getting better and brighter everyday and old friendships mature and new friendships are forming.

But I like to look forward to what's next, and I think most of the time is because I don't know what's next. I have no idea what I want to do with the rest of my life and I don't have to, but I'm pretty sure when I find it I'll know. Just the way it was when I found my fiance. It'll be a perfect fit and it will complement me like it is it's job...see what I did there?

But seriously all this waiting and anticipation is good for me. It means I'm always thinking and planning and that I'm excited about what the future has to bring. I do know one thing the future has to bring and that's me getting married.

The other day at our first counseling session with the one and only Chris Hanchey and his lovely wife Karen, he made each of us write down what we loved about the other person and what aspects of their character or personality or even our relationship made us want to marry the other. I won't bore you with the details of what it is about my future wife that makes me want to marry her, but I will tell you with all certainty and honesty and with absolutely no qualms...

That I can't wait.

Passion...fruit?

A wise man once told me that I should write about my passions, and I think he's right. That wise man was Stephen Lynch and he told me that earlier today. I am going to follow his advice and write this baby about my passions. But first I'm going to ask a question that has always bugged me...you may see this one coming...you may not...you should though.

What the hell is a passion fruit? Is it good? Does it look delicious? Is is super sweet? Is it even real?
I hope beyond hope that the answer is yes to all of these questions. I could look it up on google but since I'm in the freaking zone right now I'm not going to do that. Instead I'm going to wonder about it for a while, something we haven't had to do for a while thanks to Al Gore and his stupid invention called the internet.

That was a joke...the internet isn't stupid.

Passions...what in the world am I passionate about?
Well for starters I really like ships, like old ones with poop decks and planks that you can walk and the potential to fly if sprinkled with a little bit of pixie dust. I don't know where this passion came from but I love a good-old classic pirate ship. Maybe it was watching the Darling kids said home on one to go grow up, or maybe it was the old lego set that my parents never bought me. No idea but I love the freaking things. I'd say I'm pretty passionate about those. I don't even like the beach that much or salt water or being cold and hungry, but I didn't get sea-sick on the cruise I went on and I think that's step one to becoming a sailor. I should learn more about knots and rigging and sails and other ship lingo.

Ok next passion...let's go with old keys. I think they are so cool. I want my future house to have a big skeleton key that opens the front door that I have to carry around on my key chain. People would say, "Bro why do you have that giant old key?" and I'd say "It's just my house key." Then I would whip it out real quick and pretend to unlock my front door while holding the other hand in a claw and making an awesome face. Then the inquirer would be jealous and tell his significant other how jealous he is of me.

Ok enough of that...I'm also passionate about memories. Good or bad it's these recollections of past events that give us what wisdom we have today. I love reminiscing with old friends and making new memories with new and old friends alike. I want to be that grandfather that has tons of stories from his life that can captivate an audience of children of all types...and by type I mean type of grand, great grand, or lack of either title. Life is one big journey and that means can be one big story. The quality of that story makes us who we are and who we've been, and that also makes everything worth it...everything.

Lastly and probably most importantly I'm passionate about my faith. It's a questioning and sometimes lacking faith but it's always there. I firmly believe in freedom and in love. I believe that Jesus has freed us from whatever bond is tying us to this world. Not to say I don't question what that looks like and what it takes to truly live your life around that faith, but I do believe those words I just wrote. Unfortunately there are a lot of politics and differing opinions on what the statement actually means, but I find it easier to make my own choices when it comes to interpretations and listen to advice from those who have earned my respect and my ear. I think it's easy to see how powerful love can be and to me that's the easiest way to see God in this world. And when my time is up I sincerely hope and believe that I will be ready and that I will have loved as much and as well as I humanly could. Peter Pan, I really like Peter Pan too b-t-dubbs, said that death is the next adventure and I'm kind of putting all of my eggs in the basket that says it will be the greatest adventure ever.

Not saying I want to die any time soon because then the world would suffer a loss of pure awesomeness and that would truly be a tragedy.

You thought I wouldn't take it there didn't you?

Yea you did...and yea I did.

But bottom line write about what your passionate about and if you can't find anything to write about then you need to find a passion. Even if it's something trivial like ships and old keys, that's a step in the right direction and will at least get the proverbial ball rolling.

Remember that one time I wrote a post about how I got a cubicle at work and I was excited about it?
You don't?
Well it's officially your lucky day because I just learned to link places in a cool way so that it's not some ugly line of letters and symbols that would completely ruin the aesthetics of my blog.
So I'll give you a moment to click that link...read what I wrote there...read it again...memorize it...send me a check for $100 because you want to support my dream of being a writer and you know this would be a great way to do that...read it again just for s's and g's...then return to this post.
...
...
...
Alright I look forward to getting that check.
So basically what has transpired is that I have now once again been upgraded from cubicle to...wait for it...office.
That's right I have an office now. And it even has one tiny window in the door. I have all of my awards and stuff on the wall and my very own bookcase and a floor lamp I got from Walmart for $8 and a whole bunch of other cool stuff. Oh and it smells like vanilla because that's my natural scent. Actually that was a lie because the vanilla aroma comes from those little reeds in the colored liquid apparatus. I know right? How feng shui of me.

Can you actually use feng shui in that way? Answer...I can! Boom!

That's been pretty exciting so far because now I can close my door and listen to music while I work and I can also have official meetings with people and do other things that you do in an office. I don't know yet what those things are because I've only had an office for like a week.

On a different note the other day I went to church and got really inspired to write a serious and heart opening post about where I've been and where I want to be and stuff like that but then I lost the inspiration but just wait for it to come back. When it does I'm going to make all of you guys cry.

Really the basis of this was to brag about my new office and procrastinate from doing real work. Oh and you guys will also be glad to know I found something I'm not awesome at. Mortal Combat for the PS3. I'm actually pretty bad at it so if you want to beat me at something you may want to try that. Just saying.

America, America...land that I looooovveeee.

Capital or Capitol?

Depends on what you're talking about. Capitol is the building and capital is pretty much everything else, including cities, letters and some sort of money. I learned this lesson the hard way...well actually I looked it up on my phone while I was in D.C. talking to the VP of my little outfit here in Shreveport. But if I had walked outside my hotel I could have taken a gander to my right and seen the Capitol with a capital C. If I was really good at throwing stones and could throw them approximately 3-4 city blocks then it would have been a stone's throw away from where we were staying.

The trip was fantastic and thoroughly exhausting. In fact there's a good chance that none of this will make sense because I tend to not proof-read my posts before I publish them and my mind hurts from over-exertion. I was given the amazing opportunity to brainstorm about work and learn about what the other Goodwill's around the country are doing from last Thursday to Tuesday. You're probably thinking some sort of thought about how that seemed to have taken up my entire weekend and shouldn't I get a few days off to make up for it this week...and I have to confess that I thought the same thing. But I guess it's the price to pay for loving your job.

We arrived on a Thursday afternoon to the Hyatt on Capitol Hill and almost immediately ate lunch. Then some of us walked around for hours seeing the monuments and generally marking off the places you have to see when you visit DC on our metaphorical lists.(Metaphorical actually isn't the right word to use there because the list doesn't represent anything, the correct word to use would be imaginary but I like metaphorical a lot better so I used that one)

I ended up acquiring a bone spur in my heel because I walked too far on a fresh pair of Toms or some other bs like that and my foot hurt the rest of the trip. Good thing my entire day was mostly sitting in conference rooms and listening to people talk about programs they had and what was working for them. That means I really only had to walk to lunch and to my room to take power naps and change for dinner. After the 8-5 grind of learning and coming up with ideas to implement in my Goodwill while someone was talking, we usually went and got dinner and "went out" afterwards. When in Rome right?

Well basically this put me to bed after midnight most nights...I'm pretty sure I met a murderer one night and I also met a real-live lobbyist. I was out and about while congress was agreeing on a budget (my theory is they were playing wall ball and making paper airplanes just so they would get some attention in the media and give the American public a good-ole classic scare. It was a really neat and safe city and if the traffic wasn't such an unholy establishment there I might consider living there one day in the late future.

I don't think I've ever felt more grown up than I did on this trip. I had a hotel room to myself with 2 double beds, I had to dress business casual everyday, and I only had to wear matching shirts one day. I met the CEO of Goodwill Industries International, bonded with my coworkers, got a lot of inspiration, and got some great ideas. Oh and I didn't have to pay for an over $200-a-night hotel and room or any food while I was there. But like I said I'm exhausted. My mind is just drained from running at a million miles an hour day after day and I'm a little bit overwhelmed after seeing all the things that I have to do in the coming months, but its a good feeling.

I feel accomplished and successful and appreciated, and my awesomeness has been confirmed. I could lie to you and say that I got to play basketball with Barack Brobama but...actually guys guess what!!! I got to play basketball with Barack Brobama and I won, then we smoked cigarettes, and then we played rock-paper-scissors for about an hour...god freaking times.

So a little advice to all of my avid readers out there...if I hear the words strategic planning, leverage resource or re-invent the wheel I will Smack you in your ribs...and that's smack with a capitol S...

Or is it capital?

Who cares?

Not me...actually that's a lie. And it should be capital.

Bye

Oh, hello suburbia

I'm going to go ahead and confess that I got the idea for this blog from Pioneer Woman, and it's going to be somewhat unoriginal in that aspect, but it'll still be awesome because I'm putting my own spin on it. Not saying that P-dubs isn't awesome but let's be honest...I'm more awesome than she is.

So let's dig in and get through this...BOOM...I couldn't resist that one. You probably don't get it but you will...trust me...you will.

Long story short I moved out of my hip downtown loft and into a house in a quiet neighborhood a few blocks down from the house I grew up in...I could probably stand to be a few blocks further away but you take what you can get. In my girlfriend's and my new lifestyle, which involves eating organic vegetables and being more environmentally conscious, we decided we would take advantage of the backyard to attempt to grow some vegetables that we can eat. Think of all the money we will save on organic produce!



This is a picture of the materials I got to build the bed...I read that raised beds are pretty much the way to go and I really don't want to look like an amateur so I went with the respectful way, in case a real gardener comes over and wants to shoot the compost with me...I felt really good about that joke.

If anyone care I bought 14 cedar fence planks and a few bundles of stakes. Then I cut 2 of the planks in half to make a box easily accessible from all sides. I found out that I have enough to build another box so keep that in mind if you go this route. It ended up looking like this...



Then this fine girl came over to help me put some dirt in and get some seeds and plants in the ground. If you're an agent with a lot of contacts that wants a model to pay a bunch of money send me an email or comment or something and we'll talk. Just realize that if she bagged an awesome guy like me she's probably pretty neat too. Here's a picture of her with a sweet garden tool doing something really important...



Then she put some tomato plants in the ground...it looked a lot like this...look at those dainty wrists...



Wow first plant ever...awwwwwww...you can do it little guy.



Then we planted some zucchini seeds, which coincidentally looked a lot like pumpkin seeds so I might be growing pumpkins, and next some broccoli, then the tomatoes in the middle, then onions and last but not least cucumbers. At the end it looked like this...



Let me explain the stone/brick things real quick. I was going to just put them between the two gardens...I haven't built number 2 yet...but I've since decided to just put them all around each one. Keep in mind this isn't my house and I'm not sure what the guy who mows the backyard will think about it but it's a risk I'm willing to take.

It's pretty awesome I know and there's absolutely no chance that this stuff will not grow. What did I learn from this experience you ask?

Pretty much that dirt is expensive and I think I know better than the farmer's almanac and other gardening books. I mean seeds don't need to be pampered like a chef do they? They ought to be able to grow in adverse circumstances. Anyways if you have any questions that you need to ask a gardener, I'm pretty much an expert now so just shoot me a question...see what I did there? With "shoot"

And remember when I dropped that "dig in" joke earlier?

I know right...pretty thick.

This weekend I didn't spend resting or traveling or playing disc golf or signing autographs or doing anything remotely enjoyable that I do on a semi-regular basis. Instead I began the process of moving all of my beautiful and completely necessary stuff out of my downtown loft and into an old house in the same neighborhood where I grew up. You might be wondering why I did this...you might also be wondering why in the world I included autographs in the earlier list of things I normally do on weekends.

The answer to the first can be found earlier on my blog but I'm not sure how to do one of those neat little links things in the paragraph so if you feel up to it it's really not that difficult to locate. But for those of you who are motivatedly-inclined...I'll give you a quick run down. Basically he's really loud and inconsiderate and has an annoying dog that barks all the time and pees on the floor which drips down into my apartment. I mean come on...just because it's the next night and you come home and turn your freaking awful music up to 11, doesn't mean it won't wake me up and cause me to angrily yell at you and bang on the ceiling with my zombie-pocalypse weapon. What a douche. Also downtown Shreveport isn't that cool or convenient and it's far away from everything.

The answer to the second is that I was lying...plain and simple. But I did sign a few t-shirts and even a pair of jeans once back when I was in a band. I asked the girl if her mom would be mad that I had written on her jeans and she assured me that she wouldn't care. She was probably lying too but that's another story.

Anyways this house was built in the early 40's which equals old. It's big and creaky and mildly terrifying. The room I sleep next too has an old-school chain lock on the door, which I keep bolted because there are close to 30 bitter deer head hanging on the wall just waiting to get their bodies back so they can go on a deadly rampage and get revenge on the entire human race. But seriously it's just one of those houses where you keep expecting to see a creepy shape flash past the edges of your vision or have an undead murderer be staring at you when you close the medicine cabinet mirror thing. In this situation it's so easy to start sentences with "wouldn't it be creepy if..." and then go into some hair-raising account of scary things that could happen to you. And when you live by yourself there's just no coming back from one of those...much less a bunch of them.

Since I'm not feeling very creative today I'm going to end with moving sucks and anyone who needs some inspiration for a horror film or book, feel free to come stay with me. I could use the company, just don't start any sentences with "wouldn't it be scary if...

The American Dream

So I just got a cubicle at work...my very own cubicle. Now I know what you all must be thinking..."Bro, that's pretty thick!"

Really guys? Thick? No thank you...let's stay with awesome.

So back to the cubicle...bottom line is it's pretty awesome. I mean I finally have my own space and can bring stuff from home and hang all sorts of sweet posters and things on every inch of space. I could even bring speakers and a lamp or something cool to set the mood when I have girls over. That was a joke right...see what I did there?

Of course you did.

Anyways the obtainment of a cubicle was something I never dreamed I'd be excited about. If I was being honest with myself I'd probably have known that what you all were thinking earlier was less along the lines of how awesome or "thick" it was, and more along the lines of B.F.D, or maybe just B.D. if you don't like to use profanity. I think that my new found excitement over all things cubicle says a lot about the person I've become in this climate. But to really understand my excitement I have to take you back to the beginning of the journey into the world of all things career. Here we go...

So I graduated from college with a Bachelor's of Arts in Journalism...I know right? Awesome. Then I decided I would prolong everything and go to grad school. It took approximately 6 minutes into my first quarter of grad school to realize I didn't want to go to grad school. Then I figured I would stick around Ruston and just bide my time until something better cam along...so I naturally went to the local newspaper and got a foot-in-the-door job as a paper...wait-for-it...delivery person. Yeeaup...I had a paper route and it sucked. So after deciding I needed to move to Austin and blow all of my savings reaching for the success, I turned down the job in the newsroom the paper offered me and dove headfirst into Texas. Next I couldn't get a real job so I settled at Radioshack, or the shack, and immediately hated it. Then I quit that job and decided to move back home because I was broke and I think somewhere there was a girl involved. What did I do next you ask? Well I went after the broadcasting route...my second journalistic dream...and got a job as a graphics technician, which was incredibly dull. Soon I moved into a producer position and began writing the news. It sounds pretty impressive right? I thought so too but then I started hating it for a plethora of reasons and I knew I needed something else. It took me a while to find something else but eventually I landed at Goodwill Industries of North Louisiana as a Data/Lab specialist. But before I really started I became just a Lab Specialist and that is my title to this day. Whew...I barely got through that.

See why I'm excited about my cubicle now? No? Well allow me to clarify further.
Every job I have had I have disliked. EVERY JOB except this one I have now. And at none of them have I had my own space where I can bring a little of my personality into my area to help inspire my creative juices. Even at the news station I bounced around between cubicles even though there were plenty of open ones, I hated them for that btws, so this not only provides me with a sense of appreciation and accomplishment, but provides me with a space to make utterly DAve-like, a synonym for DAve-like is awesome btws. Not only do I feel appreciated at this job but I truly believe in what we're doing and I don't dread going to work everyday. That dread is something I have never wanted to deal with again.

So feel free to stop by sometime if you ever find yourself at 8100 Jump Run...I'll be partying it up in the back at my cube...

Before I go I'm going to give you 1 thing I hate and some trends that I'm starting.

First the thing I hate...the URL for my blog is currently itsallaroundus.blogspot.com and not myownworld.blogspot.com. If you've ever wondered why that is it's because that URL is taken by some no-talent ass-clown who doesn't even update. What a jerk. I hate that person for having the URL I want and I'm openly coveting it from them. If anyone knows how to steal it contact me and we'll talk.

Now for the trends...feel free to hop on the ole trend wagon if you feel so inclined.
First...whenever I insult someone I immediately yell out "boom roasted" and begin clacking my index finger against my other fingers, like you would if you were packing a dip can.
Next...I'm starting to abbreviate awesome actors names and it's awesome. For example...P-swaze is Patric Swazey(sp?) and B-dubbs is Bruce Willis.
Next...I have begun using the term lol as a verb...for example, "Dang I just read this awesome blog post and loled at work.
And finally on a similar note...I also use the abbreviation BTW in regular everyday dialogue. Except to make it cool I say B-T-Dubbs...like B-dubbs but with a t in the middle.

I know what you're thinking..." Bro that's pretty thick."

You're right.

The Greatest Game Ever Played

As promised here is an account of a game my buddy Eric and I invented back in the glory days when we lived down the street from each other. But first here's a little back-story about Eric and my relationship. He and his family moved two houses down from me to live with his grandparents...his dad was stationed at Barksdale. We soon became fast friends and spent pretty much every afternoon and weekend playing together. I was in the 3rd grade, which would put me around 8, and he was in the second grade but was also 8. I was young for my grade. Anyways we played all over the neighborhood and had a hell of a time.

There are many memories that stand out in my mind from those days, the day Eric tried to marry a pair of bumblebees and they ended up chasing him...the day Eric dove into a trashcan to catch a baseball(you can read about that account earlier in my blog)...the day he kicked a basketball into my mother's rear-view mirror...but the particular memory we're looking for is the one about DZ.

Now I have no idea what DZ stood for. We had a play center back in the day called Discovery Zone, which was often abbreviated D.Z., but I don't think it meant discovery zone. Quick question...how awesome were play centers?
Pretty stinking awesome is the answer I was looking for.
Back the the point...I don't even remember how to play DZ. Now I'm going to stop you here because I know what you're thinking. You're thinking Dave, you're pretty awesome but how can you claim the greatest game ever played was a game whose name you don't fully know...and more importantly you couldn't teach me to play for a small fee, unless it's Friday in which case you should probably do it for free.
To which I say you're both right and wrong at the same time.

Yes I am awesome, that has been pretty well established. But you're wrong to assume just because I can't remember the full name of the game or how to play it that it wasn't the greatest game ever invented. I have a theory that had it been properly marketed and word had been given an appropriate amount of time to spread, it would have caught on like Justin Beiber and ousted ever sport in America. I would have been really rich and would have been hooked on cocaine and died of promiscuity...whew! Bullet Dodged!

But I digress...All I can remember of how the game was played was it involved a small little-bit-larger-than-a-softball-sized ball, the driveway of Eric's grandparents and a crack that split said driveway. In reality it was probably some mix of Volleyball and Soccer with maybe a little four-square thrown in...but there's always the chance it was much cooler than all of those things combined. But alas no one will ever know the rules of this mysterious game.

What I do specifically remember however is the genius, get-rick-quick-scheme that corrupted our innocent little creative minds. It sucked up our creative juices like a huge mosquito and used them for its own selfish ambitions. We hurriedly traversed the one yard between our houses, which always turned into a foot race of which I was usually the victor, and rounded ourselves up some poster making supplies. Then we got our business model together and went to work. We decided we needed to share the game with the world, and while we were doing this, why not make a little pocket change? We decided we would charge $5...that's right 5 whole hard earned dollars to teach people how to play DZ and then you would be able to play 1 game for free. I think any other games would cost you a whopping $1 or something. But the kicker is we decided it would be free on Fridays, remember how you were thinking that earlier? Nice! Anyways we would impart our knowledge to people for no charge just because it was friday. Oh the genius! We were little marketing masters. The potential there! Fridays would become Freedays and people would flock to the 200 block of Justin avenue to play the funnest game in the world. We would be the richest 8-year-olds ever!

Unfortunately our brilliant little minds were about to receive a rough tap on the shoulder from Mr. Real World...that douche. We hung our poster up on a tree in my front yard, I think the poster was obnoxious orange which was sure to attract all sorts of attention. All this happened on a Thursday. Our thought process...get a few players today...make a little money and let them tell their friends and colleagues about the fun they had and we would be swamped Friday with eager learners and potential DZers. Then next week would hit and let the money making begin! The main thing we didn't foresee was that no one would drive down the street in the 20 minutes our attention spans could afford to spend on waiting for customers. So we got bored and tried to play DZ on my driveway but it wasn't as fun for some reason. So instead we played at his grandparent's driveway again and kept a vigil watch out for any potential players.

None came and it eventually got dark. I'm sure we ate dinner and played video games or something the rest of the night while silently dreaming of the hoards of people we would have tomorrow. Unfortunately upon waking up the next day neither one of us could really remember how to play DZ. Like I said earlier...government agents must have come in our rooms and zapped our brains MIB style. I didn't say that earlier? Oh well that's what must have happened. So there you have it...I have played the greatest game ever invented...forgotten how to play it...and had my mind zapped from special government agents, which probably means Will Smith has been in my bedroom.

So if anyone is free this Friday let's try and get a game of DZ going.
I know I'm free and fortunately so is DZ.

Life is Good

So I decided it would be a good idea to read over everything I had ever written on this blog, which I did. Now the first thing I thought was...why am I not famous yet? Then I calmed down and decided that things are a lot better now for me than they used to be. I mean I haven't actually had a job I've enjoyed going to in...ever, and I haven't even expressed my gratitude in writing for the job I currently have. For the uninformed I work at Goodwill Industries of North Louisiana in the workforce development side as everyone's favorite lab specialist. This basically means that I help people write their resumes and will eventually teach classes about computers and make sure our virtual stuff is working properly.

I truly love it.

I mean I get to talk with people and help them better their lives by empowering them to find jobs. Plus I work the 10AM - 7PM shift so I don't even have to wake up early. Or course every workplace has faults and drama but I don't think I should discuss those because that teacher recently got suspended or something for writing bad things about her students on her twitter so I'm going to not go into all that...if you haven't heard yet I like my job.

My current satisfaction with my job directly contrasts to my absolute loathing of my last job. It was miserable and if you don't believe me ask someone who knew me at that time or just read my postings from that era of my life.

Since coming to this discovery there are a lot of factors that have increased my level of contentedness with life. For instance being able to sleep properly and being around decent people who aren't focused on face-time on the camera as well as not feeling like I was prostituting my talents. Also I have been able to begin going to church again and have started hanging out with some guys again. It was a lonely road I traveled before this but now I'm finally where I want to be.

It's been weird getting to this point though. Being responsible with money and trying to save for a future. For instance I really want an iPad and could probably afford one if I wasn't trying to save so much dad-gum money. And by afford one I mean I have a Best Buy credit card because I have decent credit. One of the greatest changes I've noticed is in the conversations I now have with my friends, which used to be about video games and music and what kind of adventure we were going to have that evening. Now it's all of those things but with money stuff thrown along with it. I was excited about getting health insurance for Pete's sake. It's the little things that bring us the greatest joy.

Tomorrow I'm going to post something about a game my best friend and I once invented...I for one can't wait to read it.

Staring down the barrell at some bro time

This weekend I got the chance to have a little bro time in honor of the joining of two friends in the bonds of holy matrimony and everything that goes along with that...hehehe...see what I did there?
Sex
Anyways apparently when a bro gets marries it's only natural to have a throw on some camo...grab a gun that shoots little plastic balls of pain at fast-enough-to-leave-welts-speed and pretend you're at war. Paintball, while being pretty epic, is also a good team-building exercise and a good way to get really really really sore. But it truly was a blast of yellow paint...I know right?
Anyways after paintball I made the trek to Ruston, my old college town and had some more bro time, which included but wasn't limited to video games, good food, beer and rides on motorized two wheeled vehicles. While all that stuff was incredible and a great time...the conversations and just general being around guys that know me and genuinely care about my well-being was truly refreshing. The conversation hit every range that makes times like that so special to me...and also so very missed. There was a lot of laughing...some reminiscing...some seriousness...and the right amount of sarcasm, which is somewhere in the shit-ton category. All-in-all it really made me miss what I had in college. I consider myself indebted to a lot of those guys for passing along knowledge and wisdom and generally being so willing to make the sacrifices that friendship requires. I have learned so much from so many people and truly wouldn't be who I am today without them, and I am more grateful than I can show. Not to go into this woe-is-me-type-thing but it's not something that I've had in large quantities for a long time. Intentional conversations about the things that aren't always easy answers or fun topics but are essential to growth. Not saying that I don't have friends in Shreveport, I mean I've got a few and a girlfriend who is supportive of every spontaneous thought and ambition that jump into my head. But what I don't have is that sense of accountability and brotherhood that I was once surrounded by.
Life truly is and has been a journey and I am excited for what is to come. I think I'm finally beginning to accept this whole growing up thing. Sometimes it's easy to get consumed by current predicaments and the stresses of everyday life...but this weekend was a refresher that let me know that bros are for life and they won't forget about you...no matter what may come between you at certain times.

Dear Upstairs Neighbor

First of all what up?
Second of all could you think about not being a douche sometimes?
I mean...I realize that you really like your music and all, but don't you think that when I'm trying to do important things like watch the Harry Potter movies, one of the various television shows I repeatedly watch because I can't afford cable or...you know...sleep, that I don't want to feel your sub woofer pulsate in every orifice of my body. And when I bang on the ceiling with a wooden samurai sword that I keep by my bed in case there's a zombie-pocalypse to get you to shut the hell up, that doesn't mean that when you get home from IHOP or some bar that you can let the tunes blare again. Even in the rare occasion that you listen to something that doesn't sound like someone painted pictures of rabbits doing backflips using all the colors of the wind onto an old VHS tapes of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, I still generally don't want to hear it.
Granted our floors are the approximate thickness of shopping cart wheels made out of wood, so there is virtually no insulation, but that's not enough of an excuse for your shenanigans that generally succeed in pissing me off to no end.
Also the other morning when you were yelling at whoever left their alarm clock set causing it to try and wake the missing person up for 2 and a half hours, I could hear you yelling better than the person who was clearly not sleeping through their alarm clock because they weren't there. Also you have done that at least 27 times and it never gets any less annoying. Modern day alarm clocks are scientifically engineered to pierce through every conscious and unconscious thought until it makes it's presence known.
But I have some good news for you upstairs neighbor...if we ever meet outside of the apartment I won't immediately hate you because I have no idea what you look like due to the fact that I have always been to scared to go tell you to shut the hell up. Not that I am scared of you...mainly just the entire confrontation. Also I won't be living there much longer so you might have a whole empty apartment to used as a sub woofer box. At least until someone new moves in. I really hope it's a huge MMA fighter who will promptly kick your ass at the first note of bad music. I also hope he steals your dog Maddison and takes care of it better than you do.
P.S. remember when you got the new Kid Cuddi album and you listened to "Day and Night" on repeat for at least 5 times in a row?
You do?
Yeah...that sucked!

Motorcycles and Mustaches

*This is a post from my tumblr which I have wholeheartedly decided to stop using

As of Thursday, October 298, 2010, I officially joined motorcycle riders everywhere by bringing home my very own Kawasaki Vulcan 500. Friday I was initiated into the club by exchanging “the wave” with another of the two-wheeled persuasion. For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, “the wave” is a form of greeting motorcyclists use to acknowledge each other when passing. A feeling of excitement and pride filled my body and soul as I shot a peace sign at the ground. The wave was promptly returned and thus began the first day of the rest of my life. Since that moment, all I’ve wanted to do is drive the blasted thing around, I get anxious when 3-o-clock rolls around because it means the work day is almost over and I can go riding. I feel like a stupid little kid with a new toy but I can’t help it.

I’ve just gotten to where I can go above 25 and not freak out because I’ve convinced myself my speedometer is wrong and I’m really traveling at least 95 down a neighborhood street. It really is a different experience though, and there are a lot of things I’m going to have to get used to. The main thing being the mentality that if someone hits me, oh well, my car is a piece of junk anyways so no harm-no foul. But now it’s a big-time foul because being hit means instant death, or at least a whole lot of pain. But as I’ve been stuck in my 4-wheeled cage it’s given me a lot of time to think about the benefits of being out in the open air, not surrounded by strong, protective steel specifically engineered to keep me safe in even the worst of collisions. For one thing it will force me to slow down and take my time when traveling places. I won’t be able to tail people who piss me off and I’ll have to drive defensively again. This should remove a large portion of anxiety and stress from my life because the majority of people seem to be awful drivers and I’ll have to stay on my toes to keep out of their way.

So in addition to slowing down my lifestyle, it’s also giving me the cool factor that I’ve been needing. While I’ll be the first person to admit, I’m pretty awesome. Allow me to take a second to list my best qualities. First I’m the funniest guy I know, second I’m a real charmer, third I’m a good test-taker, fourth I don’t have a ridiculous amount of body hair, and fifth I’m just plain awesome. So you might be asking yourself…self, I just don’t think he needs a cool factor; in fact he sounds pretty awesome to me. Well you’re right and you’re wrong. I am awesome but I’m just not that cool. I drive a 99 Oldsmobile Alero with scratches and dents all over it, and I can’t grow a proper beard. So along with adding the coolness of riding a motorcycle, I also grew a mustache, only to learn that I can’t actually grow a mustache very well. My father, on the other hand, who also rides a motorcycle, can grow a sweet-ass mustache and I figured, hey…I’m my father’s son so let’s give this a go.

Epic fail.

So I’m just going to have to take the points I get from the motorcycle and hope that it makes up for my quirkiness, inherent geekiness and lack of sufficient facial hair. So to all you motorcyclists out there…deuces to the ground and keep the rubber side down…to everyone else…please don’t run in to me!

New Blogs

So I tried to like and use tumblr...I even went as far as to try and convince myself that if I used an outlet that was hip and streamlined I would blog more.

Needless to say it didn't happen.

I also tell myself I would blog more if I had the internet at my apartment...but if I was honest it probably wouldn't make a lick of difference.

I just avoided going on a tangent about how the hell a lick could ever be a unit of measurement because I'm sure it's been done a million times before.

So I just got into this new blog thanks to my boss called hyperbole and a half, which is written by this chick who has no real job but somehow makes enough money by blogging to live on. She's effing hilarious.

More to come I promise!