Life

Winter, More Like Looster

It won’t stop, guys. It just keeps coming. And coming. And falling. And chilling the bones. My blood is warm, but barely. When the day begins, I kiss my wife goodbye as she leaves for work, and I kiss her hard knowing either one of us may be later found frozen in a parking-lot ice-block.

My friend asked me, the one who Skypes from the West, how the weather has been. My answer lasted for ten minutes, and it sounded like this:

“Every week there’s this new storm. It sounds great because storms only last for two or so days. So you think, hey, alright! We just have to make it through this storm. And then, there’s another storm. Another freak wind tunnel. Another polar vortex. And you start thinking, why the Hell are we doing this to ourselves?”

My friend’s eyes wide, I decided to cool off: “How have you been?” (more…)

Thoughts on Life & the Super Bowl (or, #StopEatingTheBananaPeel)

Hello world.

The Super Bowl was last night. Boy, was that boring. What a let down! Even as a fan of Seattle (from the Northwest), I was still bored. As a die-hard Peyton Manning fan? Ugh, I could barely watch it. What’s worse, after it was over, the game permeated all my thoughts: brushing my teeth, dressing in pajamas, tossing and turning in bed, eating a midnight snack.

Poor Peyton Manning, in my brain like a mouse. Not just Peyton but his great year and his team—all the records they broke. Then I thought about the Monday Morning Quarterbacks, the anti-Peyton crowd, who with newfound passion will argue again whether or not Peyton Manning is “good.”

Finally, I feel asleep. It was peaceful. Honestly, I don’t remember much. However, when I woke up, the first thing I thought about was Peyton Manning. Poor Peyton Manning. What a miserable soul we both are.

Then it hit me.

Why the Hell am I still thinking about Peyton Manning?

It scares me, that a professional sport has this much power over me, my thoughts, my disposition. If the Broncos would’ve won (or at least competed), I would’ve, potentially, showed up for life in brighter spirits.

Let me repeat that.  (more…)

Burns Night ’14: Ode to Haggis, Scotch, and the Mystery of Friendship

Last night, my wife and I attended our first ever Burns Night (Robert, not George). Haggis was served with drams of poetry and scotch. Not being Scottish (but Irish!) I had never heard of Burns Night or Burns Supper. Sure, I had belted “Auld Lang Syne” many of New Year mornings, but the story of the man who wrote the original poem was never told to me. The evening was robust and engaging, one I’ll likely never forget.

So sit back, grab a fresh slice—possibly scoop—of haggis with a side of meat pie and mashed turnips. I’ll tell you all about it.

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The Mystery of Friendship

The mystery of friendship is such that brings you to parties like these. We were tired from working two jobs all week and tempted, by our bed, with silent talk. But Megan was slated to give a speech at the party (Reply to the Toast to the Lassies), so we couldn’t bail.

We walked in the door of our new friend’s home and smelled a unique fragrance—much like that of Scotch—a blend: haggis, meat pie, grown people, infant people, mashed other-things. The host family, David and Neyir, lived in Scotland for three (or so) years. Ultimately Canadian, they dream of returning to Edinburgh.

The evening began with a formal introduction: welcome and grace. But before we could eat, The Address to the Haggis was recited. Dan, another new friend, recited the poem (from memory) with a hearty Scottish accent.

Address to the Haggis, by Dan

Address to the Haggis, by Dan

Ye Pow’rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o’ fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer
Gie her a haggis!

So we ate! And it was… to be honest, it wasn’t bad. The haggis was fine. Really, it’s no worse than hot dogs (geometrically). The flavor was spicy and the texture was that of sausage. There was a meat pie served as well, made with puff pastry and Guinness. I think I liked that the best. (more…)

How to Stay Productive in 5 Easy–Hey! The Super Bowl!

Today’s post was almost about my busy schedule (school, work, exercise, faith, Dexter), how I can stay productive and accomplish it all, lessons learned, and so on. But then I read an article about the Seahawks. Next I read an article about the Broncos. After that came a blog post about Peyton Manning’s faith, one about Richard Sherman’s mouth, and then…

You get it. The Super Bowl is on its way. I’m not above it. The two final teams are my two favorite teams (NOTE: I was as loyal to Indianapolis as I will be to Denver). So this is all pretty fun.

Now ends my talk of the Super Bowl.

Whoa, man, is me!

My 22 credit course-load is proving difficult these days; I haven’t even attended every class yet! However, instead of traversing down a dark and dangerous road which ends with me mounting a soapbox, screaming about the cruelness of time, I thought I’d instead share some great things I’ve learned and experienced, so far, from this new semester.

(What is this blog post even about?–Jim Gaffigan audience voice) (more…)

New Beginnings Abound! (or, Mr. Hungry, my Frightful Friend)

I started a new job today. It’s a mentorship program for at-risk youth in the Rochester City School District. I’m still learning what organization does what, which branch represents which function, and who exactly I’m working for (the U of Rochester, I think), but the building, at least, is labeled the Center for Community Health. Specifically, my program is UR BOLD (Building Outstanding Leadership and Distinction).

A startling statistic I heard today is that only 10% of Black males graduate high school in Rochester (9% Latinos). Crazy, eh? If there was ever a job for a skinny, white, redheaded kid from California… I’m not sure this would be it. However, I’m up for the challenge! I couldn’t be more excited.

The past two or three months I’ve been working as a barista in a local grocery store. The job was okay; I had to wear a goofy hat and listen to my coworkers talk about boy problems while making microwaved breakfast sandwiches. Overall, the job weighed empty on my shoulders. I needed something meaningful.

SIDE NOTE: It doesn’t get more meaningful than coffee; however, this grocery chain isn’t what one would call “speciality” or as I like to call, “good.”

(more…)

Five Life-Lessons the Polar Vortex Taught Me

Rochester has been cold. Very cold. The East, it would seem, was sprayed by Mr. Freeze’s Ice Gun. You’ve probably heard about it or have experienced the frigidness yourself. It’s my first East Coast winter and, well, it’s living up to its reputation.

A coworker mentioned (and you never know how true these things are) that, right now, ten minutes of exposed skin will earn you frost bite. I’m not sure what frost bite is, but it sounds delicious. They don’t sell those in California.

Here’s five life-lessons I’ve learned from living through the Polar Vortex, or as I like to call it, “The Unholy Coldy”

1. Cuss Creatively: If caught outside, unique cussing patterns can keep your brain functioning and from freezing over. Some of my favorites from the other day include, Butt-Face-Twinkie-Stealer!; Alabama-Harp-Farter!; and Mr. Bojangles, the Asshole.

2. Park Near the Entrance: I usually park far away; it saves time and I don’t mind walking. However, the other night I parked on the far end of the grocery store’s lot. By the time I reached the store, I had to borrow an ice scraper for all the frozen tear drops on my face.

(more…)