Summer of Dan

Do you ever just get down on your knees and thank God that you know me and have access to my dementia?

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.

Entering the Pain Cave

I've been a slacker lately and haven't carved out time to write some more meaningful posts about life so that's what I'll attempt to do here.

Turning 30 almost two months ago was a mentally traumatic milestone for me. I have no idea why, but it was almost earth shattering to me. I've never felt that way before, I felt like I had to grow up, but truth be told, I already am. I just don't act grown up.

And I don't want to. 

Yeah, I pay my bills on time, the Niff and I go on mini vacations and do semi-grown up things, but I'm a kid at heart and always will be.

The Niff planned the perfect birthday party for a 15 year old. Or a 30 year old with the mentality of a 15 year old - pizza party, with desserts like cannolis, tiramisu, fudge cake, carrot cake, cream puffs. Everything a fat kid would love. This would all be followed by hitting one of the greatest amusement parks in the history of New England. Or New Hampshire. Or, pretty much, the only amusement park really, unless you count the ones for the little kids up north.

Anyway.

It was perfect. It wasn't crowded, the weather was great, the company was even better. We had a series posse mounted up to attack the park. And attack we did.

   

That was the first ride of the night - the Xtreme Frisbee. You know it's the shit when they leave off the E. Hardcore ride for sure. It's so hardcore it even has it's own webpage. They lock you in, you spin around faster and faster and higher until you want to puke. Everyone is screaming their head off, not because it's scary, but because we are all wondering if we will make it off the ride without losing our lunch. We are screaming so damn loud, I look over across from us and there is this teenage girl ON HER FUCKING CELLPHONE. I lose it, I'm screaming, "I'm about to puke and this chick is updating her Facebook status 'I'm on the Frisbee and I'm going to puke!!! lol'. Most bizarre thing I've ever seen on a ride.

I think she was related to these guys.

 

I think after that we knew we were in for an interesting evening.

Flack and I decided to team up with our superpowers and squeeze into one bumper car to destroy the rest of the bumper car field. We laid some sick hits, but I'm not sure what was more painful, getting hit by us or me having to lift my gunt to get the bar to drop down.

 
 

No ride was safe from us, we decided that early on. We kicked everything up a notch, including seeing how many people could fit in the photo booth.

 
 

We were playing for keeps, I don't think Canobie Lake Park was ready for us that night. We got shitfaced on fried dough and even more fucked up on the Turkish Twist. We were wild and crazy. Yup. Hardcore Canobie Lakers right here.

Probably the highlight of the night was the Log Ride. No one was in line whatsoever, so the Niff, myself, the Niff's step-brother Aaron, and my sister Jessie piled into one log. The splashes were going to be epic, everyone would be soaked, people would be drowning.

Ok, so it was about 2/3's accurate.

Aaron was in the way front, followed by my sister Jessie, then me, then the Niff. Mark and Laura were in the log right behind us. We noticed early on that we started taking on some series water but it's a water ride. It's to be expected. Right?

Following some serious turns, we started slowing down and Mark and Laura were catching up. It wasn't a big deal, we were ahead enough before the grand finale 45 degree hill that takes you to Drenchtown USA that we would be fine.

Until we lodged the log into the final turn. Like, really jammed it in there. To the point of us not moving. And taking on a shitload of water. And Mark and Laura not only caught up, but they wedged us further. And then another log behind them did. And then another.

Many people don't know Aaron, but Aaron is a fucking survivalist. He has lightning reflexes, and is a combination of Mother Theresa, Chuck Norris, and Bear Grylls. Before we knew it, he was out of that fucking log, in the most selfless act I have ever witnessed, and said, "I'm doing this for you guys so you can survive!!! Don't worry about me, save yourselves!!!" and with that, he pushed us free and onto the giant ramp that brings us to the top of Mt. Everest. We saw him run into the trees like a wild animal and proceeded to hang on for dear life. 

Now, when you are on the Log Ride at Canobie, the final hill is so steep, it feels like you are going to roll out the back of the log and die. Or flip. Or slide out and tumble into the trees below. Or onto the barbed wire fence below we could only imagine Aaron was scaling by then.

About 3/4 of the way up, the ride stops. The kid at the top of the tower was yelling at us, they had to find out if our dearly departed passenger was in danger. They had to stop it, he could be laying in front of the log at the bottom and get smashed. Or drenched. Or something.

I'm not one to shy away from adventure. In fact, I'm good friends with the Dos Equis guy. He plays next to me on my football team. For real.

But we were up there for a solid 10 minutes. Mark and Laura were right at the bottom and were being escorted by park employees off the ride. Before we knew it, there were now three people on the wet, metal ladder type stairs that led to the tower at the top, explaining in painful detail how we would exit the ride. From 60 feet up. Soaking wet. Stepping onto wet metal. At a 45 degree angle. No big deal.

Jessie went first, almost took a digger, which was understandable given the circumstances. Then I went and the Niff was right behind me. They walked us the the side, presumably where Aaron made The Great Escape, and there was our posse. Waiting. With Aaron. There was a 2 foot high wooden locked gate. I could have stepped over the damn thing but the person that brought us down had 12,000 keys and had protocol she needed to follow. And we waited. And waited. For like 5 fucking minutes.

After the longest time, we were reunited with our log mate, and we had a picture taken, simulating the final plunge to the bottom since we were so deprived of a normal conclusion to the ride.

 
 

Look at us. LOOK. Fearless. We could do anything. Except ride more rides without being followed by park security for the rest of the night. Which was probably a good thing...

Without a single doubt, going to amusement park rides when you are older is 1000 times better than when you are a kid. Partly because you're an adult living a kid's dream. Partly because of the memories you make. And a big part because you can buy all the food and candy and drinks you want without getting yelled at by your parents because you're going to "get sick" or "won't have room for dinner" or "it's time to go, it's getting late" or "i'm sorry, i don't have anymore money, you ate everything in the park twice already". Or something like that.

Canobie Lake Park will never be the same again.

 
 

Next up: whitewater rafting with the same motley crew. Thank God we have our own personal Bear Grylls.

Be thankful every single day

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.

48 Hours

Is a little more than 48 hours I begin my 7th season of playing semi-pro football. When I first started I can honestly say I had no idea how long I would play; I had no idea what was normal and there are a lot of things I can honestly say I had no idea about:

1. That I would make so many good friends, some lifelong ones as well (Flack) and get to play ball with one of my childhood BFFs (Mark) and high school buddies.
   
2. That I would have get to see more of New England as we travel to all sorts of town fields, high schools, colleges, and wherever you could fit a set of goalposts. 
3. That I would ever begin to know what it feels to be a pro football player (ie: I sympathesize with guys like Brett Favre as far as not knowing when it hang them up and not want to have to go through all the preseason bumps and bruises to get to the games).
4. That I would be able to fill a hole inside of me that's always been there since I was a kid.
5. That I would lose a lot more than I would win, and still love the game just as much.
6. That I would get to play in front of my friends and family, including my grandparents.
7. That I would continue learning even little things about football this many years into playing.
8. That I would surprise myself over and over again.
9. That the quote, "Hard work beats talent when talent doesn't work hard" would actually be true.
10. That I would be undersized for my position and still be able to hold my own.

Another season, another chance to have a winning record, another chance for a championship. Baby steps. One game at a time. Before we know it the season will be over and we'll be pissed that we have to wait all over again for another.

But I guarantee no one will be pissed about missing those 3+ hour trips each way in the car like this weekend.

Here's to a successful, injury-free 2009 season.

I don't watch TV

I had an early lunch recently with my brother and sister. I'm not sure if a recurring theme of a conversation we had should be telling me something...you be the judge.

Jessie and I were talking about seeing pictures of the assholes from The Hills Spencer and Heidi on vacation wearing surgical masks to protect against the swine flu. Jack said, "Who the hell are they?" and Jessie said, "Spencer and Heidi...they're on The Hills".

"I don't watch TV," he said. "I look like I watch a lot of TV, one might think I'm a fat lazy slob that watches a lot of TV, but in reality I don't watch TV".

A number of times Jessie and I referenced things we've seen on TV only to have a blank stare from Jack accompanied by the same monotone of "I don't watch TV".

Knowing how often I am on the Niff about us deleting stuff from our DVR because it fills up so fast (many thanks to any shows that are taped in HD because they suck up space 8 times as fast as normal TV) I'm beginning to wonder if there is a fine balance between how much TV I watch and how much Jack watches.

The other day the Niff and I caught our cat Ray watching The Amazing Race quite intently. He looked pissed when we started laughing at him, probably because we were distracting him.

Maybe we should put down the remote for a bit?

Yeah, I didn't think so. What would Jack Bauer, Sawyer-Hurley-Kate-Jack, and my boys from The Unit do without me??

Blades don’t need reloading

Last night I had one of the most vivid Zombie Dreams ever. As I’ve written here before, my dreams really affect me. It’s not like I can see the future or anything insane like that, but they just almost live with me.

I had a dream I borrowed my father’s old van (van he used to own 10 years ago) and we hit my grandparent’s house for the party we’re really going to tomorrow. As we were leaving, the van wouldn’t turn over until we popped the hood and got some help. We went home, which turned out to be my dad’s house where I used to live before becoming an adult and moving out.

It was weird, because it was the house, but even bigger. I heard on the news that Zombies were everywhere. I looked at my Uncle Pat and asked him how much ammo he had, and between my dad and him we had some but not a lot. Being a martial arts loving family, my dad and uncle have always had various swords and medieval looking things hanging on the wall so I grabbed two Samurai swords, Pat grabbed a broadsword, my dad grabbed a pair of kamas, and Jackie grabbed these two ballsy looking swords that wrapped around his arms like a coiled snake and we were ready.

I stepped onto the porch as I saw about 10 of them come out of the woods. We all waited for them, with all the women upstairs hiding in the closet in the master bedroom. As soon as one of them stepped onto the deck I flipped the fuck out and started spinning my swords like I was some sort of weapons master, turning into a high speed Ginsu blender. I really got into it, as I took out 8 of them while they took out the remaining two.

After that, I woke up. Sadly, it was time to go to work, and I couldn’t learn more about the impending Zombie invasion, but heed this advice: guns are great, but blades don’t need reloading. I think it’s time to hit the crazy man booth at the local Flea Market this weekend to stock up on supplies.

You think I’m joking.

Jacko

Jacko

Jackie aka Jacko aka Jack aka John Francis; older brother by 15 months; gave me the chicken pox on purpose when I was a kid; beat me senseless when I lost his Darth Vader figurine in the sand at Cohasset Beach; told all my friends that I died after I was hit by a car delivering newspapers; refused to deliver my papers after said car accident; was the neighborhood hero, beating up the punk kids that oppressed the runts around the neighborhood, myself included; beat the shit out of one kid named Justin Starvros about 50 times (some morons never learn), never lost; took a beating from said punk ass and about 5 of his friends after school one day with the aid of a baseball bat; couldn’t recognize my own brother; when he healted, Justin wasn’t feeling so well; once ate almost an entire box of Kudo’s bars, in the dark in a closet as we moved to our current house…only to find out they were expired and had brown maggots crawling out of them after he downed about 8 bars of them; really good partner when playing Manhunt; once picked me up and hurled me into the refrigerator, breaking it; cannot remember the last time he had a car that was legally registered and inspected; plays video games almost every waking hour of the day; at last check, only had Steak-Ums, Swiss Rolls, Diet Dr. Pepper, and Velvetta cheese in his fridge; had a goal of purchasing over 200 Clone Troopers to cover his desk at work, at last check he was around 90; once decided it would be a good idea to put a 30 foot ladder against the house, climb to the top, so he could “be closer to the stars”, only forgetting to remove it before going out for the night and freaking the entire family out thinking someone tried to break in; one of the people you call when you think there “might be trouble”.

Remember what you’re staring at is me

 

It's been about a week since I updated from North Conway. After I sort through the pics we took, I'll post a few up here and even more into my Photobucket account.

I have too much to say to jumble between a few topics so as usual per my normal CRU format, I'll just get right to it.

• The Great Bike Put Together was just that. Took me 17 minutes. I was lightening quick. Thanks to Wal-Mart that packages the bike almost completely assembled, I was able to hit my goal time of under 20 minutes. One thing I didn't count on was a major malfunction of the front brake, something that I couldn't possibly do myself, and so having Niffy's step brother Larry there to "supervise" was perfect. He never put anything together or even tell me where to put anything, I did it all by myself. He just made the adjustment that needed to be made because the morons at Wal-Mart don't know how to assemble a brake assembly properly.
  
  
  
• Niffy's 10 mile run over the weekend was fun, except the part where my brake pedal snapped about 2 or 3 miles from the house (coming home). I suffered through it, and got home, but it was decided I'll return the bike and get my money back. This was decided after her step dad hit the dump and found a bike that was just as good if not better (minus a little wear and tear) than the one I had…for free. Since I put the bike together, maybe I should get more money back from Wally World??
  
  
  
• Over the weekend, the girl and I went to the new Chunky's down in Nashua to see 300. What a beautiful place. I've been to the one in Pelham countless times, but the new one in Nashua is gorgeous. Just about every theater was packed so the food was slow coming out, but other than that, it was a good time. Definitely would hit it again, maybe to see Reign on Me and Zodiac.
  
  
  
• Yesterday was my brother Jackie's birthday. 29. Holy shit, the faggot is almost 30. If I'm nice maybe we'll take him out for dinner and I'll give him a kick ass gift. Then again, maybe I won't. He is a homo afterall, much like my buddy Flack. Remember: I have nothing against homos, I just call'em as I see'em, and those two are both some of the biggest homos around. For sure.
  
  
  
• I've spent a lot of time lately reading. I used to read a few books a week when I was younger, now I'm trying to read a book a week. I'm almost done with another in a series I've been reading since I first moved to New Hampshire by Terry Brooks. Geeky Sci-Fi/Fantasy shit for the win.
  
  
  
• March is an alright month, but April is where it is always at for me. Why? My Annual NFL Draft Party. 8 tons of food, multiple TVs, friends hanging out, video games, more food, and just good times. Too bad I have to wait until the last weekend in April for that to roll around.
  
  
  
• Staying in the spirit that April is kickass (mainly because February and March don't offer much to me usually, except our anniversary), the Tuesday before the NFL Draft, Niffy, myself, Steve and someone else yet to be determined will be attending a Sox game. This isn't an ordinary game for us, as we'll be on the upper right field roof deck, a first for all of us. We've tried to get tickets up there since it was built, and finally we got our chance. Standing room only, but that is more than fine for me. Should be a good time for sure.
  
  
  
• Have I mentioned lately that I am pretty confident that our cat, Ray, can not only understand English, but read minds? Also, sometimes when I come to bed he is in my spot…is this a sign that he wants to replace me? Hmmm…
  
  
  
• This season of Lost has been progressing pretty well, I just can't help but be worried answers won't be given to everything and we'll be left hanging.
  
  
  
• My new favorite show is The Black Donnellys. If you haven't seen it yet, at least check out the pilot on NBC.com. Navigate to the shows area and the BD area and watch at least the pilot and let me know what you think. If you're not hooked, you won't be, but if you are, watch the rest of the free episodes on there and catch up with the season as it hasn't gotten too far away from you just yet.
  
  
  
• I've been using Office 2007 a lot lately, and my last couple posts have been actually written entirely in the new Word 2007. There is an awesome feature where you can create a new blog post, configure your blog account to link to Word (in my case, Typepad), and as easy as saving it, when I am done, I just click PUBLISH and it carries the formatting over and posts it. It is sleek as hell and just one of the many awesome features of the new Office suite.
  
  
  
• I am looking forward to the highly speculated and rumored G-Phone, a phone created by Google. From the sounds of it, if it just does what is rumored now, which is access their famed search engine, use Google maps, and get into your Gmail account, I will be happier than a fat kid at a buffet. If it does anything else, I'll be in heaven. Aside from that, it is also rumored that since Google kicks so much ass, they'll do everything they can to make sure it is cost effective to users, unlike the Apple iPhone which can cost as much as $600 just for the fucking phone. Gimme a break. That's the price of a cheap ass laptop. I'll wait for the G-Phone, thank you very much.
  

More updates soon. Sometimes I'm in the mood to update, sometimes I just can't find the time.

Sweet new ride

In order to keep up with the Niffkin on her Bataan Death Marches around town on the weekend, I decided to make a purchase. With her running sub 8 minute miles, it was important to level the playing field, since I am a fatty.

So I did.

This is it. Might not be the most expensive bike off the rack, but I am happy with it...I think.

See, I knew I wanted to buy it for a couple weeks, and found it at a local store. I went in on Friday with Steve, and they had 9 of them, and 5 were assembled. Since I had the car, I decided not to wait until next week and get it unassembled. I could have easily waited until we're back from our trip up north and bought it on Wednesday, but I can be impulsive and I'm also slightly neurotic. Both Steve and Niffy can attest to this for sure. Rather than go ahead and rehash this event in my own words, I'll allow Steve's words (via email to Niffy and CC'ed me) to explain it all:

OK, so it's a good thing and perfect time for your boy Danny to go on your little vacation up to the mountains since I really think he's losing it today.

First off he has been worried about his car tires all week talking about bringing it in so they can be fixed/replaced.  I follow him to the place and the guy who could have taken him for a sucker and still charged him for one or two tires instead was legit and told him he was worrying for nothing.  He seriously has automobile maintenance-worry OCD.  He always thinks there is something wrong with his ride.  Always listening for any sound.  LOL

Then he buys a bike.  Free assembly included in the cost, but no, he'd rather go through the hassle of assembling it himself on his own free time.  Then as the cashier says, that'll be $5.50 or whatever, as she totally disregards the huge bike box in the cart, (she must have thought he already paid for it in the back) he tells her to not forget about the bike.  Yep, take my $80!!!  I don't want it or need it.  WalMart can use it more than I.  Wouldn't that have just been sweet riding around on a totally free bike.  And there it was on a platter.  And yes, I did literally smack him across the face afterwards for it.  LOL

On top of that, the box needs to fit in his car.  Oh yeah, lemme buy a bike with a huge box that should just barely fit in my car when I know I have a tire, a printer, a computer and all sorts of other random shit back there to really make things more interesting.  Oh wait, what else?  Could not open the trunk.  That took about 5 minutes to get the trunk even open.  Then one half of the seats wouldn't go down and damned if he knew his own car and how to do it.  That took another 10 minutes before finally going into the glove compartment and getting the manual which shows how obvious it is to put the seats down right from the trunk.  LOL  Oh and then take all the garbage out to fit the box and then find strategic places to put it all back in with the box.

All I have to say is now have fun putting that thing together.

I told him all week just take the jeep one day and buy it nice and assembled.  Would have fit easily and wouldn't have to put anything together.  And who knows, maybe could have even still gotten it for free.

Disregard my OCD when it comes to my car. Everyone knows I always think it is making phantom noises and I think it is about to blowup. That is just part of our adventure on Friday.

So yeah, the next time I'll be able to even use the bike is NEXT Sunday. I think I have some sort of problem...well, I know I do, because now I have to put it together. Not that I won't enjoy that since I've put together bikes all my life, it's just always sweeter when someone else is doing it, right?

With any luck, I'll be like Napoleon taking it off some sweet jumps and keeping up with Niffy, if this 12 inches of snow and ice that Mother Nature cruelly dumped on us melts before next weekend.

This should be fun, and if you want to get odds on whether I will get hit by a car, I think my brother could arrange for some sort of odds or pool. It was, afterall, a bittersweet moment for him when I got hit by a car on my bike when I was 12. How many brothers would be pissed they had to take over your paper route because you got hit by a fucking car??? Yeah, only mine. And only mine would have told my friends that I died any time they called the house. But I digress.

If you see me trailing Niffy around town, just do your best not to hit me...and if you do, make it quick and painless.

Mooooooovin' on out...

A lot has happened these last couple weeks, which is the reason for the lack of updates, so I'll do my best to recap how the move went down.

It's taken forever, but we've finally packed everything and moved from Conc-town to D-town.

Over the course of two special days, I got a whopping 7 hours of sleep (conservative guesstimate), made over a billion trips up and down 3 flights of stairs, and threw away more goodies I "thought" I needed.

 

The move itself started on Saturday with Steve coming over around 8.30am, and bringing me to U-HAUL to grab the truck. We grabbed some breakfast at Dunkin's prior to that, and when we got back to the apartment, my brother, and James and Megan were there all ready to go.

 

At first when I got the truck I thought I was picking up an 18-wheeler. I requested a 17 footer, but this one seemed more like a 24 footer. I figured there would be way too much space inside, which sucks because I didn't want all of our stuff flying around, slamming into everything.

As soon as I hopped up into the cab I gashed my wrist on the seatbelt. Apparently the plastic piece that surrounds the area that you buckle the seatbelt into had zero plastic shielding around it, leaving only sheer exposed metal to slash my wrist on.

 

In the end, it was a comfortable fit. We could have gotten by on a smaller truck but it would have been really tight. Some of the highlights of the move include throwing a recliner off our 3 story balcony, followed by throwing an overstuffed chair off as well, landing on the recliner. While relaxing in the busted recliner, James bet my brother (who was still on the balcony) he wouldn't throw his 32 oz. Gatorade at me. Knowing Jacko, I knew he would, just because James was egging him on, and he did. My catlike reflexes saved me, as I set it in the air, similar to setting a volleyball, with it landing perfectly on it's bottom, upright. We almost needed to make a trip to the hospital as Steve chucked a box top like a frisbee from 3 floors up, slamming into Jen's head and knocking her down. Luckily she got up and was concussion free, but it was touch and go there for a bit.

 

Jacko jumped into the 18-wheeler with me as we drove at a snail's pace down to D-town. You don't realize how slow 55 mph is until you have the pedal to the floor and that is the fastest your hunk of shit will take you. As we pulled up to the new place, I had to back into the driveway so I went up the street a bit. Up until then the UHAUL was fine, but all of a sudden it started shitting the bed very quickly. It stalled at least 20 times in a matter of the length of a football field. I ended up somehow getting it to the house where we unloaded everything and had some pizza from this kickass Italian place from up the street.

 

After the move, James, Megan, Jen and I went back up to the old apartment to clean it up one last time and bring the kittahs down to their new home. The cleaning took around 90 minutes which wasn’t too bad, and the introduction to their new home was quite exciting. Ray surprisingly was extremely curious, as he tends to be a fairly timid and cautious little man. Since we moved almost a week ago, his personality has drastically changed for the better. He doesn’t seem to get as afraid of noises or people stepping over him, which used to send him bolting for cover. He is 100 times more affectionate, bringing his affection to you full force instead of you having to seek it. He seems to sleep a lot better and doesn’t wake as easily, and he absolutely loves curling up on the back of my recliner and chilling out and sleeping. As I write this, his leg is dangling off the front behind my head and I can rub against him and he doesn’t even flinch. He loves the cool basement floor, and I am always finding him laying on it. For no reason at all he’s a changed kittah, and seems happier with each move, as the move from the mill in Pembroke to the woods in Concord changed his personality somewhat as well for the better.

 

Lola on the other hand is a bit more subdued. Maybe it’s because we’re still unpacking and she isn’t aware of her surroundings as well as she used to be. She also loves the floor but spends a lot more time sleeping it seems. I played with her a lot today because it seemed like she was depressed a bit. She needs to get spayed stat, so I’ll look to take care of that next week.

 

It took a while to get things in their place, and the unpacking still has not even truly begun. Mantown sprung a leak somewhere (water heater in the other room?), and we’re on the cusp of finishing off the kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. Once those are done Mantown will go rather quickly, although with this leak we may have to switch things up a bit.

 

Tomorrow we’ll be hitting Staples most likely to check out some shelving for the kitchen, as we don’t have any cabinets. It will be an open concept with the shelving for the most part so it should look very cool and be very convenient and accessible.

 

All in all, it’s coming along pretty well. It will take a bit for everything to get into it’s place and for things to settle down but so far so good. The move could have been a lot more stressful but because we have some great friends, they made things 1000 times easier and faster. Big ups to all my peeps, including Steve “Always Moving and Holding Something” Johnson, James “I Need To Get My Haircut” Hathaway, Jacko “I Love Spitting out of the UHAUL Window Only to Have it Splash back in my face”, and Megan “Where the fuck is James???” Hathaway. Without all of you, this move would have sucked donkey balls.