Summer of Dan

Up to our necks

Moving Day is roughly 7 days away. We've ventured down to IKEA and got just about all the furniture we need for the new place, and we completed that last night by going to Bob's Furniture and buying our new couch. That won't be delivered until the weekend after we are all moved in, but I have a feeling we'll still be sifting through boxes at that point.

This weekend begins the big push. Time to get serious about boxing stuff up, throwing crap away, and figuring out what we can actually fit in the new place.

Here's to hoping we have bright skies on Moving Day!!!

A lifetime in 4 years

When you're with someone for so long, sometimes it feels like just yesterday you started seeing each other. Other times it feels like you've been together forever. Not that that is a bad thing by any stretch. You just feel like you really KNOW that person inside and out. And that's comforting.

We're still a little over two weeks away from our 4 year "anniversary" but I couldn't help but post this picture I saw by Kurt Halsey Frederiksen. I hit his site by chance, and really liked the art work. It's quirky and every one (as emo as this sounds…) seems to have a message and something that speaks to me in some way or another.

For some reason this reminds me of the Niff and I. We don't really look anything like these two people, but it's more of the attitude of it, and the look in the girl's eyes, and the fact that the guy has big ears. Other than that, it's nothing like us. But I still like it. And you should too.

The Topper

In life, there are always people that can out top you. If you tell them you know 75 places of Pi, they'll come back and say they know 80. If you tell them you helped build homes for the needy in the Dominican Republic, they'll come back and say they built an entire village in Africa. Everyone knows at least one of these people, or has encountered someone like this before.

Some people aren't down with Dilbert, but what do they know? Scott Adams knows real life funnies when he sees them (and then draws them).

IKEA really stands for Inclined to Kill Everyone Around

The Niff and I spent all day Saturday shopping at IKEA for our new place. We had to pick up a UHAUL in the ghetto of Brockton, Mass., and for the first time in my life during the day I thought I was going to be brought into the back of a pawn shop and have done to me what happened to Marcellus in Pulp Fiction.

A couple quick notes that may help you in life if you ever go to IKEA:

1. Absolutely make a list from their website before going there if you are planning on buying things.
   
2. If you are going to browse, stay out of people's way who have carts. If you are going to shop, go during the week. Trust me on this. The hoards of people that will randomly walk in your way when you are trying to get through the store will drive you insane. Old women, children, handicapped people: it will not matter. You will want to violently squish them into a bureau and close it up.
   
3. Make sure you have a vehicle big enough to carry all the stuff you could get. We got a UHAUL. This was the best thing I think I did. Ever.
   
4. When you get into the warehouse make sure you look up at the BIG ASS FAN. It will make you laugh. Maybe.
   
5. Have at least 3 hours handy. It will take that long at least to sprint from the entrance to the exit. Yeah, it's that fucking big.
   
6. If you are "testing" out furniture like a bed in one of the many showrooms, don't bring your entire family in there and have them sit in it as if they were really living there for more than 1 minute. The place is crazy busy, and basically treating it like your second home is just not cool.
   
7. Opt to get a cart and not carry one of those stupid-ugly-awkward "Big Yellow Bags". You'll look awful carrying it around, and nothing will stay in it.
   
8. IKEA is fun to browse when you need to find "that special frame for your wedding picture" or "something artsy to go in the bathroom". Otherwise, it's like a game show, something sort of like SUPERMARKET SWEEP, only way less fun because you have to pay at the end for everything.
   
9. The difference in stress level between just browsing and taking your time to when you want to get in and furnish an entire house or apartment is night and day. When you browse, you are inclined to go to the Swedish café there and get a Dingleberry Muffin or hot dog that costs 50 cents. When you shop, you are inclined to want to kill everyone in your way.
   
10. Don't make two trips. After your first shopping experience you'll probably never want to go back…except to browse and get in everyone else's way.

There are a million other little rules to follow, but I'm just getting out of therapy over this last trip. If I remember any others I will be sure to help you save yourself and post it here.

See you in 2010

I know it's uberdorky, but the next time you'll see a lunar eclipse is in 2010. Hopefully if you want to see it there are clear skies where you are because it looks awesome right now. I'll post pics later if they come out good.

Forget the Girl...seriously, forget her!

Just about everyone knows me knows I don't have a MySpace (or at least they don't think I do...). It's for some people, just not me. The people I want to be in contact with I have more than enough ways to do so and by not having a MySpace it allows me to keep away from people I want to have zero contact with.

That said, there are uses for MySpace, albeit a few, in my mind at least.

One is to find those childhood friends you lost touch with. A while back I went looking for a friend on the Interwebs but couldn't find him. With no luck, the Niff took a stab at it and found him...through MySpace.

So I did create a MySpace. I just have no desire to take fake photos of me "not" looking at the camera, and changing my "mood" on there so people will ask me why I am depressed or feeling full. I just don't care. So I have one, I just haven't populated it with anything and just use it for searching purposes.

Contact was made with my childhood friend Tom and the rest is history. It turns out he still lives in the same house I last saw him in when I was 12 and he is in a band called *Forget the Girl* ( http://www.forgetthegirl.com). He was kind enough to send me his band's CD (which can be found on his site or iTunes) and I was more than pleasantly surprised by the album. Don't take my word for it, check it out on iTunes and if you like it, buy it. This isn't a shameless plug for a buddy of mine just because he's my homie, it's legitimately a great CD.

Growing up Tom and I were like peanut butter and jelly, and now we can both thank the egocentric attention loving Myspace for putting us back in contact. Life is good.

Lost in LOST

LOST is the best show on TV, bar none.

But everything can come unraveled very quickly if they don't keep to their word and answer all the questions they've brought up before the show ends.

Flack and I have talked it over extensively, and we just don't see the writers of LOST wrapping every single mystery up in time for the conclusion of the series. One explanation is they are all in Hell or Purgatory but J.J. Abrahms has outright said that is not that case. If they are in another dimension people will not be happy at all. They need to pull it together fast, and cleanly.

They've surprised me before, many times. I hope the biggest surprise to everyone is that it has an even better ending than The Sopranos.

I love you…everyday

Valentine's Day is the biggest Hallmark holiday ever. I don't need a single day to tell me to show my love for that "special someone". That is what every day is for: use the quiet moments to show that person you love them, get them a card out of the blue, grab that thing at the mall they've wanted for weeks. Not just or especially on February 14^th.

Here are the best cards I will never get to use on this fine day:

Best.Cards.Ever.

Life isn't always gravy

Mental note: don't bring any spaghetti sauce related foods to work or anything covered in gravy, because chances are it will get very angry in the microwave and explode on your pants when you take it out.

Nothing like looking like I just scheissed on my pants and having to walk around for the rest of the day like this.

Clydesdales aren't supposed to run so far

In high school I was sprinter before I went on to do the whole field section of Track & Field. I was never built to run more than 100 meters. God just didn't put me together like that. He said, "Son, I'm going to give you short stubby arms and legs, and you shouldn't run long distances."

So I didn't. Ever.

Until the Niff someone conned me into running because it would "help me get in football shape". I'm either a sucker or I'm just outright dumb, and maybe even a bit of both.

First it started with a mile race: "It's all downhill!!! You are great at running downhill!!! Come on, you'll do great!!!" I wanted to break 8 minutes, but alas, I finished in exactly 8 minutes. Not sure how I got roped into another race after that. But I did.

"Come on! It's just a 6k!!! You've run longer than that at my Fun Run with my track club!" Stupid me should have thought back to how I was barely moving .01 mph at the end of that 4 mile run and how I felt like dying shortly after. But I didn't.

I signed up for a couples race where I would run a 6k (3.7 miles) and the Niff would run the 5 miler portion of the race. We checked out the elevation on the map beforehand and it didn't look bad at all.

Mental Note: Next time, it's safe to say that driving the route prior to running could be extremely beneficial.

The elevation sheet showed that it barely inclined at all...what kind of CRACK was that person smoking when they drew that? They made it seem like the biggest hill was just an oversized speed bump, when in actuality it was like I was in the damn Alps or the Pyrenees Mountains training with Lance Armstrong. Holy crap, I felt like I was running up the side of Everest. I was barely moving at some points.

Apparently I either am thinking of food or want to die or want to kill someone for their food when I run, because I can't really describe my face in any other way when I run:

Maybe it's because I felt like I was running in mud, and yet these two douche canoes in front of me would stop and rest every 10 seconds, and up until the very very end of the race they were still beating me. Maybe that's why.

Eh, maybe not. I was probably just thinking about demolishing a Big Mac after I finished my Death March.

 

Even when I was in high school, my last lap or last 20 meters or whatever I was running was almost my fastest. Maybe it's because I don't know how to spread that energy over my entire race evenly, but I keep a pretty good reserve in the tank before unless my pure hell on myself. I sprinted probably the last 1/4 mile, maybe a bit more, I can't tell really. At that point a lot of people are all sluggish and actually slow down as they get to the end but I put it in high gear. I felt like Spartacus, I could hear people cheering over my blaring iPod.

Then again, maybe they were screaming in horror, as they've never seen such a large beast move that fast and they were fearing for their lives, much like in those videos of WHEN GOOD ANIMALS GO BAD and you see an elephant charge into the crowd at the circus.

 

Now, mind you, the Niff ran almost a mile and a half longer than I did, and here are some notes on her:

• She was barely sweating when she finished.
• She was smiling when she finished.
• She looked like she hadn't even ran yet (that is a compliment).
• She finished barely 2 minutes behind my fat ass.

 

I will never figure it out. Then again, she's a marathon runner, and I'm just a poor fat schlub trying to shed some extra pounds before the football season. Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself.