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I've had this sitting in my Drafts for almost 3 months now. I just couldn't post it. I think it's because I felt like it was more final that way. Dumb, I know, but it's just always been hard for me to press PUBLISH.
My Papa passed away a few months ago, a few days after coming home from the hospital. He passed quietly in his sleep that afternoon, a week before his 56th wedding anniversary to my Nana. He was surrounded by family and I truly believe all was right with him when he went. He told me maybe 6 months ago that he didn't like how people had to go through what he was going through. It was a moment I'll always remember. We rarely had serious conversations that didn't end in laughing at each other, making some wise ass comment, or that took an overly serious tone.
But he was right. He didn't think it was right for anyone to live a life like he did and not be in control of so much of it at the end. I couldn't agree more.
Papa was the most easy going, funny, witty, smart guy you could ever meet. He was sarcastic but wasn’t an old grump. He had a way about him. He was older than old school. He defined the term. He was the hardest worker, he did a job until it was done right, he truly was old school. He was a tough old Irish bastard from Dorchester Mass. who loved his family and friends and didn’t want to be fussed over. He was a Sea Bee. He was a loving husband, a father for 4, a grandfather of 9, and he lived to see his first great grandchild.
I miss him a lot. I can't imagine what my Nana is actually going through, I get small glimpses of it when I talk to her sometimes. I called her today and got her voicemail, only to hear my grandfather's voice asking me to leave a message. I didn't expect it and it kicked me in the balls. Bittersweet. More bitter than sweet. The lump in my throat hung around for a while after that.
But it's great knowing I can call my Nana and hear his voice still. I'm sure she feels the same way.
Papa, we love you, we miss you, but we know you're hanging around up there keeping an eye on us.
“To be Irish is to know that in the end the world will break your heart.”
My cousin Melissa texted me and said our indoor soccer game got bounced (no pun intended...ok maybe a small one) from 7pm to 11pm. I wasn't planning on playing with my torn calf and all but with the time bump we'll be down a number of players. It's shown a lot of progress in the last week and I was about to do some hills on the treadmill last night at the gym.
Quick background info: my cousin and I are super close, even our DNA is a bit closer than normal cousins. My dad is her dad's brother, my mom is her mom's sister. We look alike a bit, just like her older sister looks like my brother. A lot actually.
And the GD? Our team name is the Gryffendorks. Yes, I came up with it. And hell yes the first goal I ever score I will scream Stupify! It's ok if you defriend me now or never talk to me again. I get it.
The sport is completely foreign to me, I'm used to running full speed at people with a complete reckless abandon and not thinking twice about it. Melissa told me she'll have me standing in front of the opposing net to be a wall and cherry pick when the ball comes to me. Less running, less chance of reinjuring I guess, but I'm hoping the compression sleeve I will have will help the healing process as well as protect it. Fingers crossed.
A couple weeks ago my cousin Melissa asked how I felt about going to New York City for the weekend on one of my off weekends for football. I thought it was just her thinking out loud, I didn't think there was really a chance we'd be able to make it happen.
I was completely wrong.
My good buddy Zap ( my team's Running Back and Melissa's boyfriend ) had a unique situation for us - his mom's boyfriend had an apartment in New York that he wasn't using and it was ours if we wanted it. So the trip was planned. Jessie, Zap, and I all had Friday off and Melissa was done with school around 12. We tried to get out of New Hampshire around 1:00pm.
Which never happened.
At least we sorta got out of the state around 5pm.
We finished dinner around 6pm and were on our way. Our GPS said we would be there by 9:30pm.
WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.
Traffic. In and around Boston and Worcester. All over the place. But not in New York.
Driving into New York was only a slightly mentally jarring experience. Even at night it was busy as hell and you only have half a second to jump into a lane if you need it. You can't use a blinker, it shows a sign of weakness and intent. It's like blood in the water during a shark frenzy. You might as well dig your diving knife into your thigh while you're at it.
We found the parking garage right near the apartment, brought our stuff upstairs and immediately headed outside.
To our right...
And about 500 feet to our left and down the street..
I knew we weren't too far from a lot, but I didn't realize how close. To everything. Times Square feet away. It was amazing. Insanely busy, lit up like a gigantic Christmas tree, tons of stuff to do and see. It was surreal.
Probably one of the coolest things we saw the entire time were street peddlers. Whether the were playing instruments out of boxes and pans and tins and using the sheet metal on the wall behind them or they were drawing charicatures or doing spray paint art it was all beyond words.
This guy was so fast with everything he did, he was so fluid it was like you were in a dream. He was one of many doing the spray paint space art, and it was all just awe inspiring.
We only got pictures of him but this is what they do (video is from Times Square and the guy kind of looks like the guy we watched, I wouldn't be at all surprised if it were him).
Before we knew it we were getting pizza at 1:30am and needed to get some sleep so we wouldn't waste the day sleeping.
For the record - no pancakes were made on Saturday. None. Not a single one. Melissa said she would make them. She didn't know how. She still needs to learn how to make pancakes. She let the entire team down.
Also - when sleeping in close quarters with other people it is important to bring earplugs, maybe even industrial grade. And duct tape to make sure they aren't removed in your sleep. From said snorers. Make note of that. It may help you later in life.
In any event, we got up fairly early and wandered the streets looking for something to eat (again - no pancakes). I hate my Ortiz shirt on, Zap had his McCourty shirt on. Trouble would find us. Right? Not before breakfast! Nothing comes between men and them breaking their fasts.
We wound up at a cool little diner, I ate right next to a guy wearing a Jeter shirt. An old man eating behind us laughed that 'Ortiz' and 'Jeter' were eating next to each other, and Jeter broke out his sense of humor and said 'I guess it's ok if he eats near me!'. It was a good meal for me. Better for him I am assuming since he ate it in 38 seconds.
We headed to Central Park which is OH MY GOD IT IS MASSIVE AND INSANE AND THEY HAVE THESE BIKES EVERY 10 FEET DRIVEN BY THESE GUYS OFFERING YOU RIDES FOR $50 EVERY 100 FEET AND FULL ON SOFTBALL GAMES AND HOLY SHIT THERE ARE LIKE 10,000 RUNNERS AND SPECIFIC RUNNING LANES AND THERE WERE SO MANY IT LOOKED LIKE THERE WAS A ROAD RACE GOING ON.
It was alright I guess.
One of the things I had to see in New York was Strawberry Fields and John Lennon's Imagine Mosaic. It was the day before his birthday, it was amazing.
For such a small, little tribute to him it was pretty moving, the simplicity was everything that Lennon was. One word, one dream, one awesome little place in the middle of Central Park. So cool.
The only other thing I knew we had to do was go to the American Museum of Natural History. Everyone said it had to be on our list. It wasn't too far from Central Park so we headed on over there.
HOLY CRAP.
Massive museum and upon first walking in, you are just floored. You're faced with dinosaurs that are so tall you can't even guesstimate how tall they are. A Night at the Museum flashes before your eyes. And you start to wonder what time everything comes alive.
It was everything I thought it would be and more. DINOSAURS. LIKE EVERY SINGLE KIND YOU CAN IMAGINE AND THEN 200 MORE. HOW CAN YOU BEAT THAT?!?
We headed back to the apartment to get ready to go out to Ground Zero and have dinner and I clicked my FitBit activity monitor to see how far we walked that day. We were upwards of 9 miles at that point. 9. FREAKING. MILES. Now I don't have to work out for a month. I know, right??!
Ground Zero and the new World Trade Center was beyond words. It was beautiful, quiet, sad, inspiring, solemn, emotional, mind blowing, all in one. We saw a couple holding each other crying. We saw 4 police cruisers there sitting watch. We met a man selling small magazines that outlined everything that happened and will happen with the rebuilding. He showed us a building that was absolutely massive and then showed us in the picture that it was only 1/3 of the size of either tower. It was the one part of the entire weekend I felt we didn't rush at all. We just took it in.
We couldn't get into the 9/11 Memorial, tickets take over a month to get. A return trip will find us there. Absolutely.
Never Forget.
We had a great time, better than I could possibly hope for and fit in during such a short period of time. The people? The friendliest you could imagine, everyone wanted to help us, everyone wanted to give us their input to where to go and where to get a bite to eat. Friendly ribbing about our Patriots and Sox gear. Amazing city, awesome company, I cannot wait to do it again.
Even if it does mean I'll be close to the Meadowlands and the Jets and Giants again.
My thoughts have been with my buddy James and his father and family lately. James' dad, Don, had a stroke yesterday morning. He is the coolest guy you could ever meet: he's funny, he has an incredibly quick wit, he's engaging, he is just the most genuine caring guy you could meet.
I met Don when I was 16 and he treated me like one of his own. Always going out of his way to take care of everyone around him and offering help. He's a rabid, rabid Washington Redskins fan and hearing him and James (who is a diehard Philadelphia Eagles fan) go back and forth about their teams is just awesome.
James has always made a point to watch the Super Bowl with his dad. Sometimes it's just been him and Don watching the game, sometimes James' mom would hang around. Not coming from a huge sports family they took me in and for many, many years I have awesome memories of watching the Super Bowl with them - all 3 Patriots Super Bowl wins, the infamous Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction ("did you see that? What was that...?"), to the now infamous "I love their shiny helmets" comment (yours truly chimed that in during the Baltimore/Giants Super Bowl...in my defense, the Giants' helmets were REALLY shiny).
He's just a great, great guy. When he asks how work is going, he cares. He wants to know. When he asks how your family is doing, he remembers little details of the last time he asked you and you answered him. He's thoughtful. He's a great big teddy bear of a guy, he's a softie.
He's a great husband, a great dad, and a great friend.
I'm pulling for you, Don. If anyone can rebound it's you. I love you big guy and I'm thinking about you.
Football practice is in full swing, spring has barely made an appearance, and so far so good in the world of Boston sports - Sox are back on track, Celtics swept the Knicks, the Bruins can finish off the Habs tonight, and the NFL lockout has been lifted. What more could you ask for?
Ok, maybe you could ask for these:
No, seriously. If you ever go to Boston, you have to go to Mike's Pastry and ask for at least two cannolis. Why? Because you'll punch yourself in the face later on when you realize you wolfed down the first and regret not ordering a second and you'll question every life decision up until that point and won't be able to move on from it and it will paralyze you and your decision making until you can get back there and make amends.
Seriously.
I have a thing for pockets. Cargo pants, jackets with a million of them, wallets and bags with hidden pockets. This stems 100% from my father. He is a big pocket guy. He is like MacGyver. He has everything in the world in his 783 pockets. Something to aspire to.
For the first time since I graduated high school I got to see a good friend of mine. Brendan James is an amazing artist. Amazing. Don't take more word for it. Check out his stuff and promptly buy his CDs.
Jessie and I saw him at a small show close to our hometown and met up with my old friend Ankur for dinner and the show. Awesome. Simply awesome.
You could tell Brendan felt comfortable with being back home, among friends and family. I think it made all the difference. It was so good seeing him. This kid is blowing up already, but he is about to just go off. Bank on it.
And it is totally true about cameras adding 50 lbs., an extra chin and making one shoulder look insanely higher than the other...just not to Brendan.
Even though I haven't eaten at KFC in over 3 years, every time I drive past it to go to the gym my body quivers. I know, awesome visual, huh? Fat guys should never use the word 'quiver'.
My second family is my football team. My third family is my XBox Live buddies. I have some friends I've met on XBL and have remained friends and gotten to know over the years away from games. Playing Call of Duty I've met a lot of cool people. Flack's brother is one of them. I could tell he was related to Flack as soon as I saw his gamer icon he created:
100% fitting for that family. That is Flack on the left and Davey on the right of course.
I can't think of many things that suck more than when you get to the gym ready to work out and you turn on your iPod and it's dead. And have to listen to the piped in awful music. And the mundane bullshit that spews out of people's mouths, people that if they shut the hell up they could get off the machines they are hogging and out of the gym in 1/3 of the time. Lesson learned. Until I forget to charge my iPod again and I hate myself all over again.
The NFL Draft is Thursday. Reason #1 I look forward to April every year: having my friends over for some good food, fighting over who we think the Patriots will take and do with their draft picks, and generally eating until we hate ourselves. We live for this.
Sometimes I think I've hit my head too hard in the past playing football because of the dreams I have. On any given week I dream of zombies no fewer than 5 times. On any given week I dream of people I haven't seen in many years at least 3-4 times. Most of the time they are in these zombie dreams. Maybe once every couple weeks I'll dream of a problem that I've had at work that I can't get past and I'll wake up with the answer. Problem solving when I'm sleeping: win.
Last night I had 3 dreams I remembered:
Armageddon was here, but no one knew but me. Somehow I was able to get hold of all my friends and family and get them into this old school subway complex (think Grand Central Station) that also doubled as a massive bomb shelter. Not only were meteorites hitting the earth but aliens also landed. But I knew what was up so it was all good.
I was with my family and my nana was pissed because someone wiped their ass on some keepsake towel. I never saw it before then but she was completely certain it was me. She even said it smelled like me. Not sure what a dream book would think of that but I called her a douchebag. Sorry, Nana. But I didn't even touch it. It was probably Jack.
I was at a picnic table eating just peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. A lot. Like massive platters of them. I couldn't eat enough. They were damn good. There was a tree nearby with some big ass birds watching me. Eat. And eat. And eat. Completely normal I guess.
I realize I am a step or two away from being locked up. That's ok though. As long as you bring me some Walking Dead comics, PB&J sandwiches, and a towel to clean up afterward.
Summer is winding down. At this point I always ask myself if I've been to the beach enough, stayed outside long enough, enjoyed the outdoors as much as I should. The answer is invariably no. Interesting.
When I hear anything by Creedence Clearwater Revival I always think of my dad. And I get sad. I am lucky enough to have him in my life still. I see him fairly frequently and keep in touch all the time. We do lunch at least every few weeks when our schedules matchup but anything by CCR brings me back to when I was a kid. Growing up my dad always listened to it, as well as Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Allman Brothers, James Taylor. He was always around because of his epilepsy. I have very vivid memories of our first house with him listening to music and writing or reading, and having a shitload of world maps up on the walls and him doing his thing. It's one of my happiest memories I have. So I do get sad. I get sad because I know one day he won't be around anymore and when I hear CCR on the radio I'll get a lump in my throat and need to pull over. He just turned 54 and I've been around for 30 of those 54 years. I am thankful for that.
Friends don't just help friends out when they need it. Good friends are proactive about helping you. I'm learning a lot thanks to Mark. Great information.
A funny thing happened a few weeks ago - the only pair of glasses I had started getting a bit wobbly on the bridge. They were about 15 months old so I called Lenscrafters to see what they can do. While I was on the phone, they fell apart in my hands. Literally.
I was pretty shocked that they fell apart like that. They said they were out of warranty by a whopping almost 4 months. I told them I would come in and see them. I saw the manager, explained I've never dropped them and it seems odd they would break there because they are made of titanium. She proceeded to tell me that titanium is a very soft and lightweight metal. I told her I knew how strong it was, my facemask is made up of it, but they shouldn't break. And then she seriously asked me, "Oh, so you wear these when you play football?".
Wait, what? Did you just ask me that? I laughed at her, I told her if facemasks can handle high speed collisions that my glasses shouldn't have fallen apart in my hand. She didn't care. She said she could give me a deal maybe on the frames. I told her I had no interest in spending anything on glasses that were defective. They cost me over $400 and lasted me 15 months. I asked her if she knew a brand new car would die after 15 months would she buy it? Or a computer? Or a brand new TV? She said of course not, but did nothing. I told her I would buy my glasses online and left.
I got my prescription from the eye doctor and my PD from Lenscrafters (Pupilary Distance is how far from the side your pupils are, usually your eyeglass maker has this measurement. They take it when the draw a dot on the lenses to see where the center of your eye is). I went to Zennioptical.com. I filled out all the information and bought 3 different pairs of glasses, all prescription, with shipping including, for under $40. They all fit beautifully, I can change them as desired, and I saved a shitload of money. Best thing I ever did.
Tomorrow night I get together with the boys for some good old fashioned fantasy drafting. Kraig will most likely have the most questionable moves, Mark will most likely have the most elaborate rating system for his players, Flack will unquestionably sit way too close to me so he can stare longingly into my eyes between picks, and Steve will absolutely try his best not to drink too much, lest he have a bad draft like he did last year.
We are over halfway through my football season and we are sitting at 5-0. We had our first big test last weekend and passed. We have two more games before THE MOST BITTER RIVARLY IN NEFL HISTORY:
It's always a good game. Let's just hope we can settle on the spelling of 'rivalry'.
Just as the weather seemed to be changing into fall like temperatures it spikes back up with this summer-ish humidity always-sweaty-as-hell crap. I want 50s please. Stat.
Speaking of summer/fall, I've amounted a wee bit of progress towards my conquering all the 4000 footers in New Hampshire. The Niff and I trekked up Mount Major (all 1786 feet of it) to get a little pre-4000 footer work in.
The wind up top must have been close to 40 mph but felt like 100. Awesome view as always.
The second little part of my insane adventure was I bought a map:
According to Steve aka Mr. Map this is THE map to have. This doesn't guarantee I won't get lost a few hundred times like in Blair Witch but as long as I don't kick it into a stream I think it will be helpful.
Samsung is keeping the Tab hush hush, but this time next week we will know more about whether the iPad has some serious competition or not. Running Android 2.2 and supporting Flash, the Tab has a chance to pull some attention and dollars away from the iPad, which in turn could drive down costs for the iPad. I swear to God, if the smallest iPad was $199, every single person would be walking down the street with one.
I really need to make a special trip to Minado. Stat. All you can eat sushi buffet for the win.
A few months ago, I was asked to help out on a charity bike ride. They needed crew and as tempting as that sounded I said no.
Many times.
The Niff asked me again and again. She would be riding, as would Kathy and they were really short on crew and needed help badly.
Although I had no idea what I would be doing, I said yes. The alternative would be sitting at home on my vacation doing absolutely nothing, and even though I had no idea what I would be doing or with who, I figured I would be doing it for two of my peeps and why not, right?
Best decision I've ever made. Ever. Aside from asking the Niff to marry me 11 years ago.
We got to Burlington Vermont after an eventful evening. Let me rewind 24 hours:
The night before we left for Burlington, I was coming back from our 47-3 win in Vermont against the Rampage. I took the bus and on the way home we got McD's. Being the fatty I am I decided to get a massive feedbag for the over 2 hour ride home. I mean, fatties can't go hungry, even for 5 minutes. There were 20 of us getting food, and being first in line, I tossed my wallet in the bag with my food and hopped on the bus. I attached the feedbag to my head and mowed down. About an hour later we hit a reststop and we all tossed our trash in the garbage.
Yes, I tossed my feedbag with my wallet into the trash. Only to realize it when I got home.
I got home at 10pm and still had a ton to do before the morning. But I had no wallet. The day before vacation. BAD NEWS.
I woke the Niff up, and we ventured out to see if we could find it. She navigated a state map, found that the reststop was about 75 minutes from home. I drove like Tommy Lee Jones in Men in Black when they were chasing aliens. We finally found the reststop, I found the garbage cans...
Empty. ALL OF THEM.
As I looked to the sky to scream at the man upstairs, a lightbulb went off - go around back, maybe there is a dumpster.
BINGO. It was unlocked, and I spotted the bag with all the McD's bags in it along with a pizza box I recognized. I just couldn't get inside. It was a weird dumpster but this is yet another case where the Niff came in superhandy - she held my legs as I went diving. I snagged the bag and dove and dove and dove.
And I found it.
A little smellier, but a hell of a lot happier and relieved.
So we get to Burlington to the registration and are pulled aside to tell us about the ride, ask us some questions and give us a chance to ask questions. The first thing that we are told is that we are being welcomed into a big family. We didn't really know what that meant but we would find out.
I could write all about what happened on what day and what the Niff did here and what I did there, but it really was about the journey and not the destination. The Niff rode every single mile and that's all she had to worry about (aside from getting some sleep despite my snoring...cut me some slack, you try sleeping on the hard ground without an air mattress and not sound like a shipyard). Crewing was an awesome experience - packing up the gear truck every day, unpacking it, setting up tents, moving things, working pit stops and doing everything you can so the riders are comfortable and have all their needs met. Long days but to me, it pales in comparison to riding. The Niff rode 3 centuries in 5 days, and two days were double my max mileage on a bike.
But again, it wasn't really about the crewing or the riding. It was about the cause - doing what we could to raise money and awareness for the AIDS Vaccine. It was about meeting new people and getting outside our comfort zone. It was about pushing yourself. It was about needing the ride as much as it needed us.
I learned so much about myself, about the human spirit, about perspective, about love, about life, about being in the moment, about amazing people. At the end of the ride, I didn't just know what the term August Family meant, I felt it.
I can't even do justice in my words about what this ride did for me as a person and my soul. About what it did for me as a human being and how I cannot even wait for the next 50 weeks to fly by so I can see all of them again.
Emotion is one of my favorite words because it doesn't really describe any one thing. It describes someone's thoughts, feelings, behaviors. Emotions aren't wrong, they just are. I have friends that are seemingly emotionless but when you get to their core they just keep their feelings close to the vest. How people react in different situations, how people think and feel fascinates me.
Before the Red Sox won it all in 2004 and before they came back from 3 games down to the Yankees, every pitch in that postseason I was on edge. When they beat the Yankees 4 straight, I was worried they wouldn't win. And when they won it all I felt like a giant monkey was lifted off my back. I was only 24. Some people lived 70 years with that feeling. I can't begin to imagine what that was like. Fast forward to 2009. When they went out in the first round against the Angels and barely put up a fight I was upset. But I wasn't devastated. Because the monkey was gone. It doesn't make me any less a diehard Sox fan, it almost put things into perspective. Kinda (because let's be real - if Jason Bay really is gone for good, that would really really suck).
When I was 12 and hit by a car, immediately after I thought I was going to die. 30 seconds after I was angry that the guy that hit me fucked my bike up. 10 minutes after that I was half naked in the street as the firefighters cut my clothes off on a cold November night to see if I had any major injuries and I was feeling embarrassed. A couple hours I felt relieved that nothing was broken. In less than a few hours I felt just about every emotion you could feel and I was barely 12 years old.
When Vinatieri and the Patriots upset the Rams in the Super Bowl as 14 point underdogs, as that ball sailed through the uprights I bolted up and almost shot my then girlfriend out the back of my best friend's house. I was running around like a mad man, I was numb. I was so happy I was crying and we screamed for what seemed like an hour. And while all this went on my then girlfriend just sat there, pissed off that I bumped her when I stood up. She never got it. She was a miserable bitch anyways.
I carefully planned my proposal to the Niff over three years ago to be the end to her first road race on Thanksgiving Day. I chose that day because of what I knew it meant to her and also for what it meant to me. Thanksgiving has always been that ultimate day - it's always been about family and friends (ok, and food and football too). I proposed to her in front of our families and friends and she was totally shocked. But after I saw the picture in the paper the next day I had regret. Regret that I wore my Michigan hat for some reason instead of my Sox hat I always wear. Odd huh?
Coming into the league 8 years ago I never dreamed of winning a championship. My career record prior to this season is shockingly awful: 3-7, 2-8, 1-9, 1-9, 2-8, 2-8, 3-5. That doesn't include 3 seasons where we made playoffs and we promptly lost those games as well so chalk up 3 more losses in the L column. And then out of nowhere a 9-1 season and a championship trophy. Winning it all felt so similar to the Sox winning it. The monkey wasn't even off my back, he was finally dead. I laughed, I cried a bit, I was on Cloud 9. I still am. Every day I wake up I think about that. I'm thankful for my teammates, my coaches, my family and friends that have supported me not only through this season but throughout my career. And I smile.
Emotions are funny things. Sometimes songs will bring out random feelings or memories of the past. Sometimes reading a book again reminds you of someone that used to be in your life but has moved on. And the best part of it is your emotions are never wrong. They're your emotions and they might not always make sense to other people, but they are yours.
Random fact of the day: It's fucking December. It's starting to get cold out and I love it. This means the Niff hates it. When it's cold out, she hurts because she isn't a whale monster like me. This is why she has 31085139805130 winter jackets and will surely get another. I am ok with this as long as she is warm. But don't tell her because she'll buy 10 more instead of one.
Thanksgiving came and went without me having a chance to list all the things and people I am thankful for so I'll do it now in abbreviated form:
The Niff - 3 years ago last week we got engaged. I'm still crazy in love with her and she's the perfect match for me in every way. Except that she doesn't watch General Hospital. But that's ok because I don't want Tyra with her. Anyway. Just because we haven't gotten married it doesn't mean we don't want to, it doesn't mean we aren't in love, it doesn't mean we don't talk about it and think about it. I've never had someone so perfect for me - she's super smart, super funny, and super pretty. I can't think of one more super quality to have that would make her better.
My siblings - my brother is a toolbag and I love him for it, my sister is the female version of me. It's ok that my brother "looks like an uncle seven times removed from Germany that no one has ever seen" and doesn't look like anyone else in our entire family. I'm sure he's my brother...yeeeeah...aside from that, he'd be the first person to help you stuff a body into a suitcase and drop it in the river and you'd never even need to tell him "not to talk about this". That's the kind of brother everyone needs.
My sister will do anything I ever ask of her. She's easily one of the funnest people to be around and I laugh every time I think of her, the Niff and I are always laughing whenever she is around, and I don't ever forget the great lengths she goes for mer when I need it. Like putting together shitty IKEA furniture and being over 2 hours late to hang out with her girl friends. It means a lot.
My parents - my mother makes the best green bean casserole in New Hampshire. I'm sure of it. Kind of. She is one of the hardest working people I know and I am always happy to see her on the holidays with the rest of the family. We may be a divided family as far as a family tree is concerned now but a stranger couldn't tell. My dad makes the meanest Yogi Tea Turkey. Just ask him. That fucker was juicy as hell this year. I mean the turkey, not my dad. If there is anything to say about my dad it's that every time I come home he is always trying to get me to leave with something I left when I moved out: comics, sheets, books, random computer parts. I mean, THAT is love: "here Danny, take your shit, I'll see you next holiday! Save room in your car then too!" Always something to look forward to.
The rest of my family - I hate the term "extended family". WTF, are they just really long limbed human beings? Like aliens? Awful wordage. My aunt and uncle are like an extra set of parents, and my cousins are like sisters to me and my siblings. My uncle is my dad's brother, my aunt is my mother's sister.
Digest that for a second...
Ok, see? It's not incest. Only sounds like it.
My aunt is a wonderful cook and I'm always thankful when she doesn't burn the buns or asks me and my uncle Pat to move the treadmill back down two more flights of stairs for her "because I'm around" and she needs new treadmill scenery. I'm thankful for that because every time without fail Pat always loses grip or the treadmill opens up and breaks 3 of his fingers or smashes him against the wall or he drops it on his foot or all of the above. Without fail.
My friends - I have far too many to list, but I will say this: good friends are easy to find, great friends are very hard to find. That's why they are called great. Get it? My great friends know they are my great friends, my good friends know they are my good friends, and everyone else knows their place. I know my great friends know they can count on me and I can count on them. And that is all that really matters when the zombie wars start. For real. Don't be a dick because you'll be left behind. Safety in numbers afterall.
My job - I love it, I love the people I work with, the work I do, the experience I'm getting, the technology I am exposed to, the trust I am given, the gorgeous building I work in. Yeah I'm one of those assholes that likes to go to work. Oh well, screw you too.
My health - generally speaking, I'm a healthy guy. Except when I got the swine flu three weeks ago. I'm fine with that, it tested my immune system and dammit I'm still here. I'm ok with a few mother nature curve balls thrown at me. I can see, I can hear, I can breathe. I can't complain.
My life - I do what I want. I read great books, watch terrible television sometimes, listen to awesome music. I workout with the Niff and enjoy it once I'm actually at the gym. I play XBox with my sister and we scream at fake zombies. I watch Curb Your Enthusiasm with the Niff, even though we're almost a decade late on the start of that one, and we laugh. A lot. I have the ability to say "I don't want to do this today, let's do this". I can drive anywhere I want to go. I can connect with my family and friends in a million different ways. I'm living the life I've wanted all along. It's all the pieces pulled together that makes it so great.
So yes, even though it's not Thanksgiving, I'm thankful every day. I truly am. And in case I haven't said it to all of you, thank you for being you. And if you don't think I'm talking to you, I'm not, but thank you for reading this anyway.
