A Bounce

I love having a bouncy ball with me. I bounce it walking down the halls at work. I bounce it walking down the sidewalk by my apartment. I bounce it at stores and friends’ houses. It is how I relax. Its how I center myself.

I once read that playing a high concentration sport was great for stress. The article cited tennis. You have to focus all your energy on the game when you play tennis. It is similar to meditation. A focusing of your mind on the present. Forgetting all the rest of the stuff around you, ignoring the world except the immediate surroundings.

The bouncy ball does that for me. I have to focus on it. I have to relax while bouncing it. If I’m not focused on it I miss the ball and have to chase after it. I’m pretty good at it to. Got all the angles down so to say.

So when I walk down the sidewalk bouncing the ball, I have a smile on my face. I’m sure people are staring at me. I’m sure people are wondering what’s going on in my head. Essentially I love it. Its different. Its rather unique (come on… when’s the last time you saw a grown man – and I think at 33 I qualify as grown – bouncing a bouncy ball in public).

It’s me. It fits.

Here Comes the Grey

I kinda wonder if its time to give up the good fight. Sam has hinted at it several times. My grey hairs are getting more and more in number. Not overwhelming, and not visible unless you’re looking for them, but they are there.

I every get them in my beard. What of a beard I can grow that it. But in my beard I get more orange hairs than grey. They orange hairs perplex me because I have dark brown hair. But whatever. I’m ok with orange hairs, grey, that’s old man hair.

I may 33, only a two and change months away from 34 (older than Christ as I like to say). But greys…. not something I need.

So…..
I have Sam pluck them with tweezers. Its not really cause I’m shallow or concerned about them, but its more like a game. “GASP. See that grey hair. How did you miss it last time?” (never mind that last time was over a month ago).

So yeah… I have grey hair. Quite a few of them. But they hide nicely underneath the top hair layer until its plucking time.

Christmas

I bought Sam’s Christmas present about two weeks ago off of eBay.

It came in last Monday and I went down to the office to pick it up (all of our packages go to the apartment office to be held). Its a pretty big package. Holly, our building manager, had let me know it was there.

I pick it up and Holly asks what it is. I tell her its Sam’s Christmas present.

Holly’s exact words are: “But that’s way too big to be a ring.”

Holly loves us. We’re good tenants, we pay on time, we don’t bitch about small things, and we stop by and chat with her often. She always tells us we’re some of her favorite tenants and from the excitement in her voice when she sees I can tell its true.

“When are you going to do it? I can’t wait because you two are some of my favorite people!”

I tell her eventually to end this part of the conversation.

You see, its not that I don’t love Sam. I do. And its not like I’m going any where. I’m not. However I’m not sure marriage is important to me. Well I know its not. Its such a religious thing in my mind. And I’m not religious. Sam feels the same way. If marriage were a governmental thing without any religious twinge, I may feel differently. And I know you can get married without a church, or any religious institution, but living in the era of constant politics has made marriage a religious institution.

When religion is used as a basis to deny two people the opportunity to get married, I don’t care to get married. Period. That’s it. That’s how I feel about marriage. If the government changed the laws so that marriage wasn’t the word they used, instead it was civil union for everyone. Then yeah, lets get a civil union. Let religions have the word marriage, under the books and law it will be called civil union. Sam and I have joked about that. Civil Union. But regardless of what is said a Civil Union is not the same as a Marriage, and having two words to mean one thing during governmental law automatically makes them not equal. It has that feel. Only we, the right folk, can have this word. All you people we don’t like what you are doing, you get to have this word over here. Don’t worry, it’s exactly the same thing as our word when it comes to laws and rights, but its not our word. You can’t have that word.

I need a good happy relationship. Marriage, that’s like an end game, or a turning point in a relationship. I don’t need a relationship with turning points. I just want a good relationship that keeps growing. And ours does.

And Sam, and myself, are happy with our relationship.

Cause its a great one.

Story Time #2

It began with a question.

“How could this be?”

Fred considered all the alternatives.  His mind was racing in 17 different directions at once.

He rolled the die.  It came up 3.  That mean turn left.  Right?  Go Straight?

Fred had no clue actually.  Which  made his certainty that he had to be right confusing to all of the others around him.

Of course Fred couldn’t see anyone around him.  He was in his own world and regardless that he standing on the sidewalk of a busy intersection, in his mind he was in a maze made of cardboard boxes shaped like the Great Wall of China.  And in his mind he was supposed to find the treasure, the flame of life that opened up everyone’s eyes.

Fred just stood there staring at the die in his hands.  He looked at it with wide open eyes, waiting for it to change.  This was ridiculous of course.  Although Fred had gotten it from a strange hobo after winning a Yahtzee game against him.   The hobo told him it had magical powers, that it had led the hobo to that exact spot where he eventually played Fred (Strange enough that spot was under a bridge in Hoboken.

Fred knew the die wouldn’t lie to him.  He just had to wait long enough.  So he stood there… staring at the die in his open hand waiting for something to happen.

And then it did….

Thanksgiving 2012

Thanksgiving 2012 was a hit much like 2011.

Reggie made it out for Thanksgiving this year again.  PJ however despite trying (what I hope was his best efforts) couldn’t make it again.  However after many attempts to contact him and find out information he finally got back to me by text at 7:30 in the morning on Thanksgiving to let me know he wasn’t coming out.

Little late, but better than nothing.  Pretty average for PJ actually.

Anyways, Reg and I baked up a 17 pound turkey, picked up some Hawaiian Sweet Rolls, made some Sweet Potato Fries, corn and copious amounts of wine.

Thanksgiving is a weird holiday.  I’m continually invited to Sam’s parents for Thanksgiving, but I’ve enjoyed making my own meal for the last couple years.  Going on four years in a row I think of making my own Thanksgiving dinners.  Reg coming out is just an extra bonus.  He rarely makes it out here but its always good to see him.

We went on a League Marathon too.  Good way to spend a Thursday.

Today we’re hitting up a park or something.  Get some movement in to counter all the food I ate yesterday.  Cause man I feel fat right now.

Dream a Horrible Christmas Dream

I had a weird dream of Christmas last night.  Maybe it wasn’t exactly Christmas, but Christmas shopping.

First of all it took place at a Mall.  I kinda extremely dislike malls.  Bizarre weird places that are only good for people watching (or getting angry at Apple Stores).

Anyways, I’m walking around a Mall at night, but still during business hours.  Not sure what I’m doing there, but I see a big box store.  They sell some gadget you’ve all seen sold on TV but that I can’t place right now for some reason.  It just has giant aisles and aisles full of this item.

However in the very back there is a section of the store dedicated to a new item.  It is a book read.  You put on headphones and use a telephone jack to plug the headphones into something that reads whatever book you want.

I’m mildly piqued and look around for someone to inquire about it with.  I find a tall skinny man with a pointed goatee.  He really wants to demonstrate it for me so I follow him to the front of the store.  As we get to the front all of the lights go out.  I look around and realize no one else is that with me.  It is just me and the sales clerk in the store.  When I check my watch it says 8:30 (I instinctively know that the store is open until 9).

He plugs the phone in (by telephone cord) to a small camera box he puts on a shelf.  It is directly above a book.  As he turns it on the device starts reading the book.  There are a few caveats though.  You have to manually turn the page, and as I find out, the camera section balances really delicately and is easy to shift and get out of place.

But the guy talks me into buying it.  Says he can throw in an extra so I’ll get three for the price of two (they are sold in two packs for some reason).We get to the back customer service counter (where you purchase it) and he pulls out a big circular tin, like the kind you get popcorn in.  It has big gaudy logos on it and it bright neon colored.

He tells me it will be $103.  Which is way more than I’m prepared to pay, however he goes on about how it is his first sale, how excited he is and how proud his boss will be of him.  So I give in.

I pull out my wallet, which is clearly not my wallet based on a) how much cash is in it; and b) how stuffed full and large it is.  Tons of receipts, paper, and business cards.  I count my cash but it turns out to be just shy of what is needed.  I got to pay by credit card, but at the last second I feel a little shifty about the guy, so decide I will use a check (which I happen to have with me).

I tell him I’ll pay by check.  This really confuses him but he says ok.  As soon as I pull out the check he grabs it and sends it through a machine.  I start to protest that I haven’t written anything on it and he looks more confused.  I realize he’s never seen a check in his life, that he clearly has no idea how they work or what they are for.  I try to get him to tell me the name of the store to put on the check, and he can’t tell me that (he doesn’t know the name of the store).  I go back to explaining the parts of a check slowly but he just takes my blank check and puts in the register drawer and gives a receipt.

The dream ends here, but kind of doesn’t.  I remember walking out into a dark empty parking lot with the tin under my arm, trying to figure out who the hell I could give this crappy gift to.  I think Dad came to mind.

It was cool though.  It was one of those dreams where I didn’t remember it until half an hour after I woke up.  Just sort of doing something else and it all came flooding back.