I hate being sick

I hate being sick. I rarely get sick yet I've managed twice in less than 6 months. That makes me sad. Normally I would just fight through the sickness and go to school and everything but these last two times have been bad enough I just stayed home. Last time it was because of a fever, this time it was because of aches and pains. I missed one class and work but decided that I would go to class the next day. That was a bad idea.

In the morning when I woke up I didn't ache as much. My nose wasn't stuffed. My cough wasn't noticeable. I thought maybe the day would be worth going to. So off I went to class.

The left side of my face just started pulling and hurting like a sneeze was building but it wouldn't come out. When I finally did sneeze it would be at least five in a row but the feeling of a building sneeze STAYS THERE! It drove me crazy. On top of that my face looked really weird because of it. 

I sat through three classes like this. Amazingly nobody asked about the fact one of my eyes looked like I was high and why I was crying out of it too. 

It didn't end with class either. I had to go around looking for teachers to sign credit papers for when I study abroad. None of them mentioned how I looked either so I just sat there listening to them talk and try not to drip snot and tears all over their desks. 

Needless to say it was a very stressful day. I finally made it home and even wrote a term paper. Then my RA came in and gave me an orange since she knew I was sick. 

Happy [age omitted] Birthday Mommy!!

So today February 22, is my mother's birthday! George Washington's too. My blog today is, of course, going to be dedicated to this wonderful person!

Mom was born x number of years ago and lived through some of America's wildest times. If ever there was a song in Anthem to her life it would be AM radio by Everclear (amazing band btw. Don't judge them by this one song.) She would probably choose some quite different songs to describe it but this is my blog and she can suck it up.

Some time after college and meeting Jaime in Maryland, and three kids later we come to my memories of her. I remember loving that Mom was a manager at Wendy's when I was young because this meant lots of Wendy's for dinner. Jaime would put all three kids at a table and we'd wait for him to bring us food.

Mom would always come out and talk to us for a while. By us, I mean she'd talk to Jaime while I tried hard to get her attention about the most menial stuff. 

This never got me her attention, only in trouble with Jaime and then James and Nick would have to keep me quite or at least entertained. Mostly they just glared at me until I stayed quiet. Then I'd get grumpy and be in a bad mood and get in more trouble for that.

During school and such I played soccer and Mom became my coach with my friend Keeley's mom Amy. They lead the team to victory many times but Mom always had higher expectations for me than I was willing to give. She pushed me just as hard as Jaime, to be like Nick was and a mini Pele.

Eventually some big games were won and she was happy and sated and life was good. 

Mom was the best mother possible for someone like me. Not many people can put up with my way of living life and my style of talking. Last time I was home from college I was rolled up on the couch talking away while she was on the computer. 

Mumsey's a trooper like that. She's handled a lifetime of this and I think me at college is a nice break from it all. But hey there's a strong chance that this is what it's like there now. 

Either way, Mom is the greatest ever and this is to her. Thanks bunches and 

To the Greatest Person in my World Today

So today, I was having a slightly bad day. A lot of work to do, kept messing things up, burned my tongue, forgot about important parts of assignments, when I got a package from Jean Staub, my best friend, Michelle's mom. Inside the box was a cornucopia of the most amazing things I could have on this day. So here's a blog and photo aid of what I got, dedicated to the kindest great, Mom. Jean Staub.

First up, the box it came in. As you can probably read, a Matchbox Collector Pack. She always has the greatest boxes that even if what it advertises is in there, it's still going to be great.

Sweetart Valentines socks. I don't even know what to say.

Assorted Chocolates. Amazing lid. 

This picture blurred, but its a big bag of M&M's. The red guy on the cover is keeping it sexy with a  mustache, robe and a rose in his mouth. And slippers.   

Carmax at a time that couldn't be greater since I just lost my chapstick. 

A bag of fun, from little Nedward. Inside is silly bands, Fun Dip, M&M's, Hersheys  chocolate hearts, Play-Doh, and Bubbles. 

This is officially one of the greatest things I've gotten this semester. It for sure tops the one she sent last semester!

Thanks so much Jean, Nedward, and even John!!!! You're way too good to me!!

Am I a freak?

Does anyone else pretend that they're in a music video when they're walking around listening to music? I mean, when I'm walking to class or back to my dorm or wherever I always have my ipod in. I usually sing along or sometimes dance, but still, in my head I invent the world into a music video. I just see things in a more epic view than other Miamians milling around to their various places. To try and explain this I attempted some drawings.

When I'm listening to a slower song with noticeable drive such as Owl City's If My Heart was a House I picture a glossy wonderland. This is where I am.

This is what I see.

I just see me twirling and frolicking in a wintery wonderland. As pretty as Miami is, my backdrops are nicer. I also try to move based off the song and match my steps to the beat.

When I'm listening to something really fast passed. I see a more city look. Something like.

Just singing on top a roof in New York like in the Not Enough video by Van Halen. Considering that's a slow song, I'm not sure why I picture this when the songs are faster.

If I'm not picturing places like those two, I'm usually just seeing the place I'm at in high definition or blue ray. I see it as if through a movie lens. I just feel powerful when I'm going around listening to music and singing loudly.

And yes. I do dress like Waldo a lot.

Hey let me tell you an anecdote

So today I was just perusing my memory of stories about my past and I remembered this one time in fourth grade. I think it starts on a Monday. Great place to start anything isn't it? It was in winter as the weekend passed I had attended a basketball game. Knowing my school, we had probably lost that weekend. Though this was far enough back that maybe we were still good. All I know was this was the time period where I didn't understand the sport (not like I do now anyway) and I spent most of the games playing in the hallway or cafeteria with kids I probably didn't actually know. I'd watch maybe the last 2 minutes of the game and do the nuts and bolts chant with the other children like we were cool. Yeah real cool.

Anyway, during the middle of class I guess I was wearing my jacket for some reason and I remember finding an unopened pack of Starburst from the game. The only way I can think of to explain my excitement is if you take a hyena and give it a few kilos of crack mixed with pure sugar. Then make it drink about 3 cans of Mountain Dew after he's swallowed it. That's about half the reaction I had when I found this candy in my pocket. I really loved Starbursts as a tyke. 

So I started eating them right in the middle of class and a guy, Greg Yahle, noticed this and wanted some. He started offering me the usual kid things if I'd give him some, pencils, toys, trading cards and the like. I refused to accept any of them. He wanted the yellows which I hated but even back then I was a greedy little kid and wanted something from giving away my precious candy. So being crafty I told him I wanted a Gameboy. This exciting little item was something I had watched others own and love while my folks didn't see fit to purchase for us. Greg managed to think before accepting and said for two yellow Starbusts he wouldn't do it, but would if I also gave him fifty dollars. I thought this over and did a mental check on my funds at home. I found this reasonable considering I was sure a new Gameboy was over hundreds of dollars. We agreed on it and I gave him the Starbursts and a three dollar down payment out of my lunch money. 

Now, as a fourth grader on limited allowance, I had to figure out how to get the money. He had given me a week to deliver or the offer would be null. I had some money already from keeping left over lunch money. This was my main source of income during my entire stay at Newton. I kept this up until I graduated. Ate little and kept the change, then traded the ones in to Grandma for bigger bills before depositing it in the bank. The ones for lunch came from Grandma in the first place. She then took the ones I traded her and put them back into the lunch money fund. I was getting the better deal out of this. 

So I gathered what I already had which was close to about half the money and needed the rest. The lunch money was kept in a tin in the kitchen. grandma would fill it with fifty ones at a time. I knew I couldn't take too much at once or I'd be found out easily. I spent each day of the week working on this. In the mornings I'd take at least three extra dollars for lunch. In the afternoon, I'd pretend to be putting the extra back while actually swiping more. I'd wait until the kitchen was clear and go for glasses of milk while swiping more. By the end of the week I had enough money to pay for the Gameboy. 

I took the money in the next day, and made the trade. He was so excited by the look of fifty ones. I was so excited about my new Gameboy that didn't even have games. I had yet to think about how I was going to get games. He started showing other kids the money since he was so proud of it. Until, one told the teacher. She swooped down  and snatched that money up. I was then given the most dreaded call in elementary school. "Come to the hallway I need to speak with you." My stomach dropped quicker than particles in a singularity of a black hole. 

She kept the money and called my parent. I had to give back the Gameboy. No detention though. Just the usual punishment. 

Grounded. 

In case you're wondering. my teacher gave the money to my parents who kept it for about a month. It was given back because otherwise they'd have spent it. 

I eventually got a Gameboy from a boy as a birthday present. That he had stolen from another kid and everyone involved kept quiet about. It even came with a game. Dragon Ball Z. Some quick thinking got me Sonic games from my own money and my brothers. And Mario came to me from a band contest. No lie, the contest was over, I stood up from the bleachers, looked behind me and the cartridge was sitting there on the bench. No one around at all. I then owned Super Mario.