Preconceived Notions
I've been a parent for 10 months and a week, now. I can honestly say, that in my young adult life, pre-fatherhood, I was scared of being a parent. I thought it was going to be hard and I thought I'd lose my own identity. But I also knew that I always wanted to be a dad.
An Extraordinary Woman makes me do Extraordinary Things
Sometimes it takes people to take you out of your comfort zone, though. I have that in my wonderful wife, Steph. She's always challenging me and pushing me to do things that I don't think I can, don't want to or don't think I'm ready for.
It took Steph for me to finally buy an HD-TV, which is something I had studied and agonized over for damn-near a decade. If it wasn't for Steph, I might have researched buying a house for the same amount of time. With Steph, I walk into Best Buy, stare at every TV. Study the specs, look at the picture, analyze the price, etc. She see's this happening, walks up to a salesman and says, "We'll take this one." Done deal.
With the house, we went and looked at five or six houses one cold day in January. The last house we walked into just felt right. So because of Steph, we went after it.
Fast forward to deciding to have a family. If it was up to me, I'd have thoughtfully considered every detail about when the right time would be. Then, we'd never get there because something always would come up. With Steph, we got to a point and she just gets me. She knows when it's time to do stuff, whether it's buy a house, a TV, or have a baby.
These are just examples of how my life goes, now. Stuff like this is a regular occurrence. I feel like with Steph, I can do anything in the world (except run a marathon, why would I want to do that?).
The Journey Begins...
We got pregnant within a matter of a few months. For Steph, each month seemed like a massive failure. For me, I knew it was a process and was in it for the long haul and helped her avoid becoming discouraged or upset with results. But we were lucky, it took only a few months and we got the green light (or the red line, or whatever means "pregnant!").
We told our families when we were still only a few weeks along, very early in the pregnancy because Steph was to run the Minneapolis Marathon. This means a healthy dose of family and friends cheering her on along the course. But with Baby Deer in tow, she was backing out of the race (reluctantly, I might add).
So we arranged a big pre-race dinner for family and friends at Old Spaghetti Factory where they thought we'd be loading her with carbs and more energy (as if she needs more energy!). But to their surprise, we announced she wouldn't be running because we were pregnant.
Rocky Mountain High to Rock Bottom - Overnight
It was a super memorable moment I'll never forget. I think my dad even had a couple tears come out and I know my mother-in-law did! The emotions are so hard to explain but they are absolutely overwhelming. Everyone was overjoyed.
The next morning, something was not right and Steph was super concerned. We rushed to the hospital at some odd hour of the morning, sat in the ER for what seemed like an eternity, had tests done and went to get an ultrasound where the technician was stone-faced the whole time. She didn't show an ounce of emotion, and I'm sure she's trained to do exactly that. An ER ultrasound tech must be either directly trained or have had so many tough experiences that it's ingrained: stone cold no emotion. The ultrasound seemed to last forever, and I studied the little monitor for any sign of the baby or heartbeat I could. It looked very similar to the ultrasound I had seen at Steph's clinic but I couldn't be certain. I can't remember if I had convinced myself everything was fine, or if I had silently come to terms with what my worst fears were.
We went back to an ER room and waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally a doctor came in, and I could see it in his eyes. He started to speak and his voice trembled slightly as he confirmed our most horrific fears: we had lost our baby. It was such a horrible moment I thought we'd never recover. My heart screamed out silently for my wife, who I can't imagine how she had felt physically and emotionally; especially because of the pain I had felt for the loss. She was beginning to bond with our child in ways only a mother can know. And now...ugh.
When we left the hospital, Steph asked me to call her mother. Man, I don't even think I spit the words out I started balling immediately and she just knew. It was morning, but I don't know what time it was. The sun was out but it was one of the gloomiest moments of my life.
It was such a roller coaster. 12 hours earlier we had shared in so much joy with our family. My sister even got a "My auntie rocks" onesie for her new niece/nephew. We went from the highest high to the lowest low.
We'd struggle for the next few weeks. But we had each other and we helped each other through. We watched episode after episode of TV on Netflix, I think it was the Showtime series, Weeds. I think we watched five or six entire seasons of it in a matter of a couple weeks. Time was irrelevant.
We had planned a trip to Colorado, and one of my SID-friends who works at Metro State even helped us get really good Rockies' tickets which meant I got to cross Coors Field off my baseball stadium bucket list. But as the trip approached I just didn't feel like going. I was not myself. So I cancelled my plane ticket and told Steph to have fun with her girlfriends.
Back on Top
Then came unexpected, super good news. We were pregnant again!!! We were much more apprehensive about when we'd tell family and friends, but with Steph's impending trip to Denver, she was forced to tell her friends because she wouldn't be enjoying any adult beverages, and she is horrible at lying.
So we kind of started telling people right around that time in the summer of 2010. The next seven to eight months seemed to drag for me. I made it my mission to be at as many appointments as I could. It helped me learn about what was happening, I enjoyed meeting Steph's doctors and nurses. And knowing my crazy weekend schedules, it was a really easy thing for me to be able to do.
The Rocky Road to Baby Logan Begins...
We had some hurdles along the way, like Steph's kidney stones on Thanksgiving weekend. She had a few "spotting" spells that scared the shit out of us. Most of all, her high blood pressure was a constant source of stress for me.
I constantly worried she'd be put on bed rest or we'd have to deliver insanely early. I also frequently worried about complications during birth. I couldn't imagine coping with the loss of this child, and I couldn't imagine coping with life without Steph. There were times when I had a hard time calming myself down from my worry.
Which is another reason I was excited to go to Steph's appointments. If I had concerns, I could ask the doctor directly. AND I DID! Many of you know Steph. She is not a good patient, and she does not necessarily relay information accurately. She wouldn't have been good at the telephone game as a child! So going right to the source (doctor) was a very calming aspect of the pregnancy for me.
I think anyone who knows us well knows our labor/delivery story. Steph was very open about it, and it was well-documented. The short version: at about 37 or 38 weeks (Feb. 28), a Monday night, Steph's face was super swollen. She had puffy lips, I had never seen anything like it. So we made the usual route to the hospital.
On that drive, I just knew I'd be meeting my baby shortly. I was so excited, but very nervous for Steph's health.
It was very hard to balance, especially while concentrating on driving. But I'm already a careful driver, so it was all good.
The Delivery
When we got there, they did all the usual tests. We had a home playoff basketball game that week, so I brought my laptop to do my regular game notes. I had plenty of time to work on them, so I got after it while we waited and Steph watched some crap on TLC on the shitty TV in the room.
After the tests were, etc., they came back in and said, "well, I hope you are ready to have this baby because it's gotta come out." I believe they diagnosed Steph with pre-eclampsia which meant the only cure was to have the baby.
Welcome to the World, Son!
Fast forward to Wednesday early evening, at 6:17 p.m. and out came Logan Jay Deer.
When he came out, it was the most amazing moment of my life. It was like being hit by a semi-truck full of emotion. I cried my eyes out immediately when I laid eyes on him.
But his color was super pale, and the first thing I hear Steph say as she grabs him to hold him was "why isn't he breathing?!"
She doesn't remember saying this, but it totally freaked me out and I was internally panicking and overjoyed at the same time. But everything was normal, so the nurses cleaned him off, got the stuff out of his lungs, etc.
I was on the other side of the room from him with a hospital bed, tons of medical equipment and a bunch of people separated us. It was nerve-wracking. I wanted to be with him immediately!
Finally, after Steph, Laura and Joanna held him, I got my turn. Meeting him was a brilliant moment. Completely perfect.
I have only held a few babies in my adult life, and none this small. None this new. None this fragile. I had been nervous or scared to hold other babies, including my nieces.
But not Logan. He was mine, I'd protect him from anything; and he knew I was his dad. It was amazing. It felt so real, so right. I loved him with every ounce of my soul immediately.
The Beginning of Fatherhood
The next few days, I changed my first diapers, and did all sorts of other stuff I never thought I'd be ready for, never thought I'd be able to do. The nurses and staff at Abbott were great in helping me learn, but it was all natural.
And it has been ever since. Being a father is the most natural thing I've ever done in my life. It's the best part of my life, too.
That night, while Steph was recovering, Logan and I sat down and flipped open my laptop to watch our first game together. Our men's basketball team was hosting Winona State - a perennial Division II power - in the first round of the conference tournament. To host a team of this caliber means you had a really good season. I was excited about this game, but I was more excited to sit with my son and call it our first game together.
Little did I know that Logan was not ready to live life without interruption for two straight hours! So we didn't watch the whole game, but rather bits and pieces here and there between diapers, exams and baths. I was even able to text a few fact corrections to our play-by-play broadcaster to which he gave a shout out, something like, "and, oh, a fact correction from Josh Deer, the sports information director at Concordia who is away from the game for the birth of his son..."
But I had more important things to worry about besides a basketball game. It was a big night that changed my life. I had been a little sick that week and obviously had not slept much and had a lot to learn, so the details of the game completely escape me after the shout out other than we had lost.
The next day, I remember holding Logan in my arms out in front of me so I could see his little face and I'll never forget the first time he peeked his little eyes open and made eye contact with me. I felt like I was looking at myself as a baby, if I had to put it into words. WOW! My little boy!
Ready to be a Father, question mark?
That moment set the tone for the next 10 months. Logan, we took you home that Friday, just your third day in the world. We got home and realized we had no clothes small enough for your little body. Your mom's high blood pressure did not allow you to fully grow, so you were just a peanut.
Mom still calls you peanut. Even though her heart didn't let you grow big in her belly, your brain got every ounce of development it needed. Your organs were developed, and you were just ready to start growing on your own!
But without clothes, or even diapers that fit, we got home and panicked. We had a breakdown. First, mommy lost it. Then, I decided to go take the dogs outside (we still had Ryder) and get the mail. On this short walk to the mail box I lost it.
But just like we helped each other get over losing Baby Deer before you came, we got each other through our first few days at home, and of course had to make a couple trips to the ER for jaundice.
You slept that first night for something like eight hours. We were thrilled, until we learned that was a bad sign. You needed to wake up when you were hungry, that's what your doctors told us.
So we focused on feeding you often and you started to grow up really fast! The doctors at Children's Hospital even put a strict plan together that got you back on the growth charts!
My First Letter to Logan
Mr. Logan, you have been a joy to be with. From the mornings when mom brings you into bed and you wiggle your way around to me as I sleep peacefully to wake me up with your little laughs and wiggles. I wake my sleepy eyes to see you chugging a bottle, sitting up like a big boy resting on mom's pillow.
Always smiling and laughing, you've been such a joy to raise. So many unforgettable moments we've had together. We'd do anything for you.
Yes, there have been times I've been so frustrated I have had to leave the room with you wailing away in your crib. Times when we've been alone together and I didn't know how we'd make it through the day. Those moments were just that: moments. They always gave way to happiness, laughter or simply peaceful naps because you were too tired to do anything but cry!
I can't explain how much easier being a parent is compared to what I had made it out to be. Diapers? Piece of cake! Bath time? No problemo!
I must admit, a big reason why I've enjoyed being a parent so much, is because of your mother. You have supermom on your side, and so do I. We are truly lucky dudes. Your mom can do anything, and she is such a good mom that it makes it impossible for me to fail as a father!
Most importantly, though, Logan: we have fun as a family just about every day!
Watching you grow up is the most rewarding part of my life. Leaving you in the morning is a challenge, but you always smile at me before I go. Coming home to you at the end of the day is a feeling I can't explain. I love walking into the house and finding you, and seeing your eyes light up when we greet each other.
You have your own little personality and are a perfect combination of your parents. You have your mommy's enthusiasm and energy for life, and you smile like your Grandpa Randy. Your mom will tell you all about him as you grow up, I promise.
It's been a while since I've blogged. Tonight, I was inspired to write by your Grandpa George. You know, he writes about you often. He keeps a journal of letters he's writing to you.
So I've decided to do the same. Hopefully I'll be able to write Letters to Logan on a regular basis for the rest of your life, or at least until you tell me to stop because it embarrasses you.
I still remember telling my dad not to call me "Goober" anymore because it embarrassed me. We were driving up my old street, Finch Way, in the car to the house I grew up in. I don't remember how old I was, maybe eight? But I know I regretted telling him that shortly after, but never wanted to admit it.
So now, one of your many nicknames is "Goober" and I hope that's okay with you.
I love you, son!
Love, Dad
Showing posts with label Steph. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Steph. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Contest - Concordia style
Hopefully most of "my readers" (whatever that means) are familiar with the show, Seinfeld, as I have already often used that, along with Curb Your Enthusiasm.
This post is a spin on the Seinfeld episode, "The Contest" with the cast of characters involving Concordia staff. The "Seinfeld" in this scheme is our soccer coach, Joe Alianiello, who came up with the genius idea. The rest of the cast involves conference & events specialist Julie Neidt (pronounced "Night" not "Neat"), assistant AD Valerie Olson, myself (the SID, writer of the DIS), my wife Stephanie and her mother, Jolene and brother, Chris. Also contributing was Melissa Wolf, assistant SID (no affiliation with DIS).
So here's the premise: Joe came up with this brilliant (another word for genius at the sake of avoiding redundancy) idea to do the Master Cleanse diet. He enters my office and asks, "Julie and I are doing the Master Cleanse, are you in or out?"
Not know what he was talking about, I asked for more info. He proceeded to explain the MC, calling it a lemonade flushing system that rids the body of all toxins. Anyone who knows me well knows that I drink coffee in the morning, diet coke in the afternoon and if I'm lucky, beer in the evening. I could use this flush, I'm thinking.
I ask what it entails. Joe proceeds to explain the plan, and as he does and I realize I have to go 10 full days with just drinking "lemonade" I insist there is an 80% chance that I will fail on the first full day of lemonade (which is the fourth day of the MC).
However, I decide to tell him that if he convinces Steph then I'm in. So he emails me a link, I forward to Steph and as a health fanatic that loves trying crazy things, Steph is gung-ho about it.
So, we are both in. Steph then proceeds to get her mom and brother involved, saying they are both "in" as well.
While Julie and I are in Joe's office, we get Valerie on the phone and she's "in" - now this is a good crew, seven in all. With that kind of system in place, I think this will be a "lock" for success!
Still in Joe's office, Julie and I get more info on what this lemonade drink really consists of: freshly squeezed lemons, grade B maple syrup (not Mrs. Butterworths which is the "good stuff") and cayenne pepper.
GROSS. But whatever, I like lemonade, syrup and spicy stuff so it has to be good, right? Or at least consumable.
So, I'm still reluctantly in, despite my hesitations about only consuming liquid for 10 days - yikes.
This all occurred on a Thursday, and we were to start on Monday. So we had four days to gorge ourselves with any food imaginable. When it hit midnight on Sunday, no more good stuff.
On Sunday evening, after bowling where I consumed nearly a pitcher of beer, I hit up the grocery store while Steph studied, bought up our fruits and veggies for day 1, and possibly day 2 since I went a little overboard. Apples, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, red/green/yellow/orange peppers, broccoli, carrots and cauliflower. We were all set.
After the grocery store, since Steph was cramming for a Tuesday test, I stopped at Applebees and ordered a tall Miller Lite for my last beer for two weeks. It was funny because I assumed on a Sunday at 9:00 p.m. that there would be no one at the bar. But with President's Day on deck and Valentine's Day nearing an end, there were like six dudes of varying ages between early 20's and mid 60's all drinking away their single sorrows.
So I pounded my beer to avoid further conversation with the weird early 20's dude to my left and got out of dodge, happy to have put the beer and the people in the bar behind me.
I should also mention that at "Sunday Dinner" with Chris and Jolene they both confirmed that they were in fact NOT "in" for the MC. Since they probably never actually confirmed being "in" in the first place, they were not the first ones officially "out."
Monday morning strikes. I eat an apple and a handful of strawberries for breakfast, feeling confident.
No coffee, though. It's going to be a rough morning.
9:30 a.m. rolls around and I'm absolutely starved for some reason, even though over half the time I don't eat breakfast anyways. But since I'm armed with four apples and four sliced up peppers, I dominate a sparkling red apple.
That tides me over until about 11:00 a.m. when I start eating some peppers. The mix of peppers saved me, and I was able to eat a lunch that filled me up.
We called Val from Joe's office where I was eating my third apple of the day, Julie was eating blueberries and Joe was eating tuna (that was his way of easing into the MC). Val said, "Oh man guys I had toast for breakfast, I guess I'm out! Shoot!" She didn't actually sound disappointed, though, and wasn't really the first "out" either since she never really started and apparently didn't even intend on being "in" without getting groceries for day 1!
We had baseball that afternoon at Metrodome, so I made sure to bring my fourth apple, my peppers and a big bottle of Aquafina with me. On the way to the Dome, I check in with Steph.
She had recently checked in with her doctor to make sure she could attempt this crazy venture without doing harm to her health since she requires potassium pills and high blood pressure medication - a combo that works together with her food intake.
Doctor says "no-go" as I find out via a text in the middle of the first of two baseball games. Now I'm at the dome, eating freaking peppers and drinking boring water, the guy at the dome press box just offered me the rights to dominate his fridge full of pop and I'm on this stupid-ass diet and my wife is now "out"?!?!
What gives!
With Steph now "out" (she's the Kramer of our Seinfeld scenario as first-out) I have to go home and see her and Chris eating her awesome meals in front of me while I drink this shit-concoction of lemonade-grade B maple syrup and cayenne pepper?
Fuck that, I'm "out"! That makes me the "Elaine" of the story as the second one out.
I did make it a full day, though, as I resisted the free soda at the dome all night. When I got home, when the clock struck midnight I gorged on a "Funfetti Valentine's Day Brownie" and it was glorious.
That day was awful. I had a headache all day, I was crabby and hungry and the apple/pepper combo really got old, and that was the EASY day?! That made my decision all the easier.
I woke up the next morning feeling awful and wondered if I felt this bad after one day of strictly fruits and veggies, how would I have felt five days into the lemonade bullshit?
I got to the office early and napped on my couch until 10:00 a.m., still feeling tired from the long day of work and baseball (14-plus hour Mondays are not Fundays).
Went to Holiday, grabbed a huge 24 ounce coffee and a bag of Cheeseburger Doritos.
On the way back to the office, I stopped by Conference & Events and knocked on the door to show off my Holiday purchases to Julie and she was not impressed.
Nor was Joe in the morning when I got to work with my TV dinner to put in the fridge for lunch.
I was immediately shunned by the only two left who were officially "in." They even had made predictions on how long I'd last. Joe said I'd crack on Friday (the second day of lemonade, a very good prediction since I said an 80% chance of failure on the FIRST day of lemonade!) while Julie gave me a little more (undeserved) credit by saying I'd make it through the weekend and crack on Monday.
But Melissa had my back. She was proud of me for getting back on the coffee bandwagon and off the MC and even suggested my Cheeseburger Doritos selection (and they are really good, ps). You see, last year, she gave up coffee for lent and we shared an office at the time and I continued our ritual of drinking coffee. So on Monday, she had a pot of coffee brewed that smelled wonderful that I couldn't help her finish. The last half of that pot is still currently resting in the coffee pot two days later, by the by...
After a completely normal day of eating and being shunned yesterday, I receive a Facebook post from Julie in the evening saying she broke down and ate food and was officially "out" as well.
So Julie made it to Tuesday night, presumably just drinking soup broth and juice all day yesterday. She would be the Jerry in our story, as the show would reveal in the series finale the true winner...George...
...That brings us to Joe Costanza - the Master of His Domain.
He was happy because he'll continue his Tuna Trend (I like alliterations...) through the weekend and officially start the MC on Monday meaning his recruiting trip to St. Cloud will not be interrupted by crazy spicy-tangy lemonade.
So Joe is the winner, sort of. I think he'll actually make it through a good chunk of the MC. I can't wait to get a taste sample of the lemonade next week.
So, Mr. Joe Alianiello, you are officially the Master of Your Domain - Congratulations!
This post is a spin on the Seinfeld episode, "The Contest" with the cast of characters involving Concordia staff. The "Seinfeld" in this scheme is our soccer coach, Joe Alianiello, who came up with the genius idea. The rest of the cast involves conference & events specialist Julie Neidt (pronounced "Night" not "Neat"), assistant AD Valerie Olson, myself (the SID, writer of the DIS), my wife Stephanie and her mother, Jolene and brother, Chris. Also contributing was Melissa Wolf, assistant SID (no affiliation with DIS).
So here's the premise: Joe came up with this brilliant (another word for genius at the sake of avoiding redundancy) idea to do the Master Cleanse diet. He enters my office and asks, "Julie and I are doing the Master Cleanse, are you in or out?"
Not know what he was talking about, I asked for more info. He proceeded to explain the MC, calling it a lemonade flushing system that rids the body of all toxins. Anyone who knows me well knows that I drink coffee in the morning, diet coke in the afternoon and if I'm lucky, beer in the evening. I could use this flush, I'm thinking.
I ask what it entails. Joe proceeds to explain the plan, and as he does and I realize I have to go 10 full days with just drinking "lemonade" I insist there is an 80% chance that I will fail on the first full day of lemonade (which is the fourth day of the MC).
However, I decide to tell him that if he convinces Steph then I'm in. So he emails me a link, I forward to Steph and as a health fanatic that loves trying crazy things, Steph is gung-ho about it.
So, we are both in. Steph then proceeds to get her mom and brother involved, saying they are both "in" as well.
While Julie and I are in Joe's office, we get Valerie on the phone and she's "in" - now this is a good crew, seven in all. With that kind of system in place, I think this will be a "lock" for success!
Still in Joe's office, Julie and I get more info on what this lemonade drink really consists of: freshly squeezed lemons, grade B maple syrup (not Mrs. Butterworths which is the "good stuff") and cayenne pepper.
GROSS. But whatever, I like lemonade, syrup and spicy stuff so it has to be good, right? Or at least consumable.
So, I'm still reluctantly in, despite my hesitations about only consuming liquid for 10 days - yikes.
This all occurred on a Thursday, and we were to start on Monday. So we had four days to gorge ourselves with any food imaginable. When it hit midnight on Sunday, no more good stuff.
On Sunday evening, after bowling where I consumed nearly a pitcher of beer, I hit up the grocery store while Steph studied, bought up our fruits and veggies for day 1, and possibly day 2 since I went a little overboard. Apples, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, red/green/yellow/orange peppers, broccoli, carrots and cauliflower. We were all set.
After the grocery store, since Steph was cramming for a Tuesday test, I stopped at Applebees and ordered a tall Miller Lite for my last beer for two weeks. It was funny because I assumed on a Sunday at 9:00 p.m. that there would be no one at the bar. But with President's Day on deck and Valentine's Day nearing an end, there were like six dudes of varying ages between early 20's and mid 60's all drinking away their single sorrows.
So I pounded my beer to avoid further conversation with the weird early 20's dude to my left and got out of dodge, happy to have put the beer and the people in the bar behind me.
I should also mention that at "Sunday Dinner" with Chris and Jolene they both confirmed that they were in fact NOT "in" for the MC. Since they probably never actually confirmed being "in" in the first place, they were not the first ones officially "out."
Monday morning strikes. I eat an apple and a handful of strawberries for breakfast, feeling confident.
No coffee, though. It's going to be a rough morning.
9:30 a.m. rolls around and I'm absolutely starved for some reason, even though over half the time I don't eat breakfast anyways. But since I'm armed with four apples and four sliced up peppers, I dominate a sparkling red apple.
That tides me over until about 11:00 a.m. when I start eating some peppers. The mix of peppers saved me, and I was able to eat a lunch that filled me up.
We called Val from Joe's office where I was eating my third apple of the day, Julie was eating blueberries and Joe was eating tuna (that was his way of easing into the MC). Val said, "Oh man guys I had toast for breakfast, I guess I'm out! Shoot!" She didn't actually sound disappointed, though, and wasn't really the first "out" either since she never really started and apparently didn't even intend on being "in" without getting groceries for day 1!
We had baseball that afternoon at Metrodome, so I made sure to bring my fourth apple, my peppers and a big bottle of Aquafina with me. On the way to the Dome, I check in with Steph.
She had recently checked in with her doctor to make sure she could attempt this crazy venture without doing harm to her health since she requires potassium pills and high blood pressure medication - a combo that works together with her food intake.
Doctor says "no-go" as I find out via a text in the middle of the first of two baseball games. Now I'm at the dome, eating freaking peppers and drinking boring water, the guy at the dome press box just offered me the rights to dominate his fridge full of pop and I'm on this stupid-ass diet and my wife is now "out"?!?!
What gives!
With Steph now "out" (she's the Kramer of our Seinfeld scenario as first-out) I have to go home and see her and Chris eating her awesome meals in front of me while I drink this shit-concoction of lemonade-grade B maple syrup and cayenne pepper?
Fuck that, I'm "out"! That makes me the "Elaine" of the story as the second one out.
I did make it a full day, though, as I resisted the free soda at the dome all night. When I got home, when the clock struck midnight I gorged on a "Funfetti Valentine's Day Brownie" and it was glorious.
That day was awful. I had a headache all day, I was crabby and hungry and the apple/pepper combo really got old, and that was the EASY day?! That made my decision all the easier.
I woke up the next morning feeling awful and wondered if I felt this bad after one day of strictly fruits and veggies, how would I have felt five days into the lemonade bullshit?
I got to the office early and napped on my couch until 10:00 a.m., still feeling tired from the long day of work and baseball (14-plus hour Mondays are not Fundays).
Went to Holiday, grabbed a huge 24 ounce coffee and a bag of Cheeseburger Doritos.
On the way back to the office, I stopped by Conference & Events and knocked on the door to show off my Holiday purchases to Julie and she was not impressed.
Nor was Joe in the morning when I got to work with my TV dinner to put in the fridge for lunch.
I was immediately shunned by the only two left who were officially "in." They even had made predictions on how long I'd last. Joe said I'd crack on Friday (the second day of lemonade, a very good prediction since I said an 80% chance of failure on the FIRST day of lemonade!) while Julie gave me a little more (undeserved) credit by saying I'd make it through the weekend and crack on Monday.
But Melissa had my back. She was proud of me for getting back on the coffee bandwagon and off the MC and even suggested my Cheeseburger Doritos selection (and they are really good, ps). You see, last year, she gave up coffee for lent and we shared an office at the time and I continued our ritual of drinking coffee. So on Monday, she had a pot of coffee brewed that smelled wonderful that I couldn't help her finish. The last half of that pot is still currently resting in the coffee pot two days later, by the by...
After a completely normal day of eating and being shunned yesterday, I receive a Facebook post from Julie in the evening saying she broke down and ate food and was officially "out" as well.
So Julie made it to Tuesday night, presumably just drinking soup broth and juice all day yesterday. She would be the Jerry in our story, as the show would reveal in the series finale the true winner...George...
...That brings us to Joe Costanza - the Master of His Domain.
He was happy because he'll continue his Tuna Trend (I like alliterations...) through the weekend and officially start the MC on Monday meaning his recruiting trip to St. Cloud will not be interrupted by crazy spicy-tangy lemonade.
So Joe is the winner, sort of. I think he'll actually make it through a good chunk of the MC. I can't wait to get a taste sample of the lemonade next week.
So, Mr. Joe Alianiello, you are officially the Master of Your Domain - Congratulations!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
An Ideal Life
Growing up, whenever I was on a road trip I would picture my life as if I had lived there. Looking back, it is easy to realize that this mental image as an adolescent was overly romanticized. Whether it was driving through the western plains of Minnesota, a journey from the Twin Cities to Chicago, or my annual drive with my dad and Paul to Kansas City. All of the communities we passed through would spur my imagination at some point in time.
Either in the car just gazing out the window across the landscape, skyscrapers or neighborhoods; or actually being in the community at a restaurant, gas station, baseball field or any other public setting - these are the experiences that helped shape my imagination.
Today is Valentine's Day. Lately, I've been so busy that I was not able to make it to a spot of commercialization to purchase some red or pink crap to buy for my wife, Stephanie, who deserves any of that type of stuff she wants.
However, we had a nice little Valentine's Day together. We went to the move, appropriately titled, "Valentine's Day" with her mom (Jolene), brother (Chris) and his girlfriend (Nicole) before going out to eat at Panino's - a family favorite. We topped it off with our bowling league and as a husband-wife team we completely dominated.
The movie Valentine's Day sparked my imagination. And another movie we recently watched from Netflix, "Up" - a Pixar film, also sparked my imagination.
These factors along with my life-long habit of daydreaming for my future life in various settings over numerous points of my life made my mind explode.
The movie Valentine's Day was far from Oscar-worthy, but was entertaining and had a great cast and was well worth the movie ticket purchase.
It also provided plenty of thought-provoking moments to people of all age groups from childhood to high school to young adulthood to married life through elderly years.
But what I started thinking about was my own experience and why I appreciate my wife, Stephanie.
Before the movie, there was a preview for a movie called "She's Out of My League" - a completely ridiculous concept for a romantic comedy. Basically, Hollywood is telling the population that everyone gets a rating (1-10) and "5's" have no business being with "10's" regardless of personality traits outside of athleticism, looks or perceived popularity. It's pure adolescence being portrayed by adults which is dangerous.
I've often joked with friends that I've overachieved, and have joked with other friends have they have also overachieved. It's a fun way to compliment our own significant others and wives while also complimenting our friends.
But in reality it is complete and utter bullshit.
The rating scale is a complete myth and is one of the factors leading to high divorce rates despite what the evangelicals will say about gay marriage being the reason (another talking point from "Valentine's Day" by the way...).
Getting back on point, I have a great wife, and I think we compliment each other incredibly. I say this because of how our Valentine's Day went.
You see, Stephanie is a planner who enjoys spontaneity and I tend to live and act in the moment but enjoy someone else's diligence in creating and executing plans.
This morning, I woke up to Stephanie saying that my breakfast was ready and would get cold if I continued to wait and that a pot of coffee was brewing.
Who wouldn't wake up to this?! Despite not getting home from work the night before until 1:30 a.m. because of a triple overtime men's basketball game (which was SWEET by the way!).
When I got to the table, there was a card sitting with my sausage and cheese omelet, toast, coffee and milk. Wow, what a way to wake up and what a great gesture!
That took some pre-planning, thought and care on her part and I was so appreciative.
I tend to have things brewing upstairs about how I feel constantly and have trouble putting my feelings into actions such as a breakfast. Why do I have this disconnect? I have no idea, but I'm just not wired how Steph is. But I am not void of thoughts and feelings about my appreciation for my wife, what she means to me and how I feel about her regardless of if it is a greeting card holiday, her birthday, our anniversary, etc.
Take my proposal. I clearly put a lot of thought into the rest of my life. I bought a house with her, that speaks volumes, right? But when it came to marriage, I approached my proposal differently and on a separate timeline. I knew I wanted it to be "right."
I finally purchased the ring, special ordered, and when I went to pick it up, I had no idea when I'd ask. But when I saw the ring and put it in my finger-tips, I was so excited I couldn't wait.
I had all the words I wanted to say, and put them on paper in a "Birthday Card" that was two weeks late. (Good thing I put the words in writing, as I would later learn I'm not good off-the-cuff at Andrew and Sara's wedding in my best man's speech - more on that in a future blog...).
When I got home that night, it was just one of those days. A bad day all around for all involved. I even had to go pick her brother, Chris, up in the middle of the street because he ran out of gas a few miles away.
When I got home, I was still so excited despite a bad day that I made my move. Dressed in scrubby clothes at home in our living room, I popped the question.
She was completely surprised and ecstatic and we had a moment neither of us will forget.
So that is just how I roll.
Today, similar. No card, no presents. But, we had a great day with a movie, dinner and our couples bowling time, and even spent time with her family.
But I'm not done.
You see, all of this shaped my thoughts in such profound ways and it really hit me hard during the movie, almost to the point of me breaking out in tears a few times because my thoughts were so surreal.
I had everything I wanted to write in this blog come to me clearly about 3/4 through the movie. But I knew it was eight-plus hours until I'd get to write it out.
But here is what I know.
I have the wife we should all strive to marry. I'm not saying Steph is the perfect wife for every man. But she is the perfect wife for me. She's the perfect blend of spontaneity and planning. The perfect mix of carelessness and cleanliness. The perfect mix of energy and relaxation. And I think I have the exact compliments to all of her traits in every way. We balance each other out perfectly. When I'm hot, she's cold - meaning if she needs my blankets, I don't need mine.
Quite simply, we just "work."
And I adore her more than anything in the world.
To bring it all together, when I think back to all of my mythical journeys and lifetimes I've dreamed of, she's always there.
Whether we live in the country on a farm and are swinging on our porch drinking lemonade as 85 year olds reminiscing about our lives together; or are running on treadmills in our trendy downtown condo's - it's her that matters. It's having her friendship, her love, her companionship that matters the most.
I can see myself taking a job in Southern California, going to the beach regularly, always having warm weather; but it's her that makes it sunny.
I can see myself living in New York in a hustle and bustle style of life, but it's her that gives me the energy to be my best.
I see myself taking a risk and moving to Europe to get away from the Red/Blue nightmare that stalemates progress in the U.S. but it's her that gives me adventure. It's her that makes me secure that I won't fail.
I can see myself giving everything up and moving to Mexico for paradise and it's her that gives me the serenity that we'll be able to be happy despite leaving our lives behind.
But most importantly, it's her that allows me to be confident in our lives together as home owners in New Brighton as I continue to pursue a highly stressful but highly rewarding career in a position as the breadwinner of the family that barely allows us to pay the bills.
Meanwhile, I hope that I'm able to be the force in her life that provides the same balance and stability, giving her confidence to pursue her education so she can change careers to be a highly skilled and qualified nurse.
And we can do it anywhere and with confidence. That is the best part of the equation. I'd sell our home in a heartbeat and pick up and move as long as I know that Stephanie is by my side.
Together, anything is possible. That is not something I would've said before life with Stephanie.
It's something I didn't immediately understand, but as I continue to live in it everyday, it puts me more and more at ease. All that matters is that we are happy. Where we are and what we do are nothing without that happiness together. And happiness is only attainable together.
These are just some of the thoughts that rumbled through me today in the dark movie theatre in Mounds View. Many of my thoughts were crystal clear at the time, and now seem to resemble one of my rambling basketball game recaps (see this Friday and Saturday's recaps - talk about wordy!).
On that note, if anyone has read this far, come find me and I'll buy you a bottle of pop, as my boss told me the other night about the writings he used to do for his corporate job.
One person I know is still reading is my loyal wife, Stephanie, who certainly wouldn't be reading this far if it was anyone but me writing.
But for anyone else brave enough to withstand this much of my text, the point is that what I have in my wife is more than I could've ever imagined possible. I have a companion, a best friend but most importantly, a soul mate.
I love you Stephanie Lynn.
Either in the car just gazing out the window across the landscape, skyscrapers or neighborhoods; or actually being in the community at a restaurant, gas station, baseball field or any other public setting - these are the experiences that helped shape my imagination.
Today is Valentine's Day. Lately, I've been so busy that I was not able to make it to a spot of commercialization to purchase some red or pink crap to buy for my wife, Stephanie, who deserves any of that type of stuff she wants.
However, we had a nice little Valentine's Day together. We went to the move, appropriately titled, "Valentine's Day" with her mom (Jolene), brother (Chris) and his girlfriend (Nicole) before going out to eat at Panino's - a family favorite. We topped it off with our bowling league and as a husband-wife team we completely dominated.
The movie Valentine's Day sparked my imagination. And another movie we recently watched from Netflix, "Up" - a Pixar film, also sparked my imagination.
These factors along with my life-long habit of daydreaming for my future life in various settings over numerous points of my life made my mind explode.
The movie Valentine's Day was far from Oscar-worthy, but was entertaining and had a great cast and was well worth the movie ticket purchase.
It also provided plenty of thought-provoking moments to people of all age groups from childhood to high school to young adulthood to married life through elderly years.
But what I started thinking about was my own experience and why I appreciate my wife, Stephanie.
Before the movie, there was a preview for a movie called "She's Out of My League" - a completely ridiculous concept for a romantic comedy. Basically, Hollywood is telling the population that everyone gets a rating (1-10) and "5's" have no business being with "10's" regardless of personality traits outside of athleticism, looks or perceived popularity. It's pure adolescence being portrayed by adults which is dangerous.
I've often joked with friends that I've overachieved, and have joked with other friends have they have also overachieved. It's a fun way to compliment our own significant others and wives while also complimenting our friends.
But in reality it is complete and utter bullshit.
The rating scale is a complete myth and is one of the factors leading to high divorce rates despite what the evangelicals will say about gay marriage being the reason (another talking point from "Valentine's Day" by the way...).
Getting back on point, I have a great wife, and I think we compliment each other incredibly. I say this because of how our Valentine's Day went.
You see, Stephanie is a planner who enjoys spontaneity and I tend to live and act in the moment but enjoy someone else's diligence in creating and executing plans.
This morning, I woke up to Stephanie saying that my breakfast was ready and would get cold if I continued to wait and that a pot of coffee was brewing.
Who wouldn't wake up to this?! Despite not getting home from work the night before until 1:30 a.m. because of a triple overtime men's basketball game (which was SWEET by the way!).
When I got to the table, there was a card sitting with my sausage and cheese omelet, toast, coffee and milk. Wow, what a way to wake up and what a great gesture!
That took some pre-planning, thought and care on her part and I was so appreciative.
I tend to have things brewing upstairs about how I feel constantly and have trouble putting my feelings into actions such as a breakfast. Why do I have this disconnect? I have no idea, but I'm just not wired how Steph is. But I am not void of thoughts and feelings about my appreciation for my wife, what she means to me and how I feel about her regardless of if it is a greeting card holiday, her birthday, our anniversary, etc.
Take my proposal. I clearly put a lot of thought into the rest of my life. I bought a house with her, that speaks volumes, right? But when it came to marriage, I approached my proposal differently and on a separate timeline. I knew I wanted it to be "right."
I finally purchased the ring, special ordered, and when I went to pick it up, I had no idea when I'd ask. But when I saw the ring and put it in my finger-tips, I was so excited I couldn't wait.
I had all the words I wanted to say, and put them on paper in a "Birthday Card" that was two weeks late. (Good thing I put the words in writing, as I would later learn I'm not good off-the-cuff at Andrew and Sara's wedding in my best man's speech - more on that in a future blog...).
When I got home that night, it was just one of those days. A bad day all around for all involved. I even had to go pick her brother, Chris, up in the middle of the street because he ran out of gas a few miles away.
When I got home, I was still so excited despite a bad day that I made my move. Dressed in scrubby clothes at home in our living room, I popped the question.
She was completely surprised and ecstatic and we had a moment neither of us will forget.
So that is just how I roll.
Today, similar. No card, no presents. But, we had a great day with a movie, dinner and our couples bowling time, and even spent time with her family.
But I'm not done.
You see, all of this shaped my thoughts in such profound ways and it really hit me hard during the movie, almost to the point of me breaking out in tears a few times because my thoughts were so surreal.
I had everything I wanted to write in this blog come to me clearly about 3/4 through the movie. But I knew it was eight-plus hours until I'd get to write it out.
But here is what I know.
I have the wife we should all strive to marry. I'm not saying Steph is the perfect wife for every man. But she is the perfect wife for me. She's the perfect blend of spontaneity and planning. The perfect mix of carelessness and cleanliness. The perfect mix of energy and relaxation. And I think I have the exact compliments to all of her traits in every way. We balance each other out perfectly. When I'm hot, she's cold - meaning if she needs my blankets, I don't need mine.
Quite simply, we just "work."
And I adore her more than anything in the world.
To bring it all together, when I think back to all of my mythical journeys and lifetimes I've dreamed of, she's always there.
Whether we live in the country on a farm and are swinging on our porch drinking lemonade as 85 year olds reminiscing about our lives together; or are running on treadmills in our trendy downtown condo's - it's her that matters. It's having her friendship, her love, her companionship that matters the most.
I can see myself taking a job in Southern California, going to the beach regularly, always having warm weather; but it's her that makes it sunny.
I can see myself living in New York in a hustle and bustle style of life, but it's her that gives me the energy to be my best.
I see myself taking a risk and moving to Europe to get away from the Red/Blue nightmare that stalemates progress in the U.S. but it's her that gives me adventure. It's her that makes me secure that I won't fail.
I can see myself giving everything up and moving to Mexico for paradise and it's her that gives me the serenity that we'll be able to be happy despite leaving our lives behind.
But most importantly, it's her that allows me to be confident in our lives together as home owners in New Brighton as I continue to pursue a highly stressful but highly rewarding career in a position as the breadwinner of the family that barely allows us to pay the bills.
Meanwhile, I hope that I'm able to be the force in her life that provides the same balance and stability, giving her confidence to pursue her education so she can change careers to be a highly skilled and qualified nurse.
And we can do it anywhere and with confidence. That is the best part of the equation. I'd sell our home in a heartbeat and pick up and move as long as I know that Stephanie is by my side.
Together, anything is possible. That is not something I would've said before life with Stephanie.
It's something I didn't immediately understand, but as I continue to live in it everyday, it puts me more and more at ease. All that matters is that we are happy. Where we are and what we do are nothing without that happiness together. And happiness is only attainable together.
These are just some of the thoughts that rumbled through me today in the dark movie theatre in Mounds View. Many of my thoughts were crystal clear at the time, and now seem to resemble one of my rambling basketball game recaps (see this Friday and Saturday's recaps - talk about wordy!).
On that note, if anyone has read this far, come find me and I'll buy you a bottle of pop, as my boss told me the other night about the writings he used to do for his corporate job.
One person I know is still reading is my loyal wife, Stephanie, who certainly wouldn't be reading this far if it was anyone but me writing.
But for anyone else brave enough to withstand this much of my text, the point is that what I have in my wife is more than I could've ever imagined possible. I have a companion, a best friend but most importantly, a soul mate.
I love you Stephanie Lynn.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Ramps & Bumpers
I definitely overstated the ease of capturing my first bowling league championship.
So, Steph and I stroll to the alley, check the scores and we did completely dominate last week. Team high scratch game, team high series, etc, etc. etc.
It wasn't even close.
However, here's the deal, we went 2-1. That means we lost a point. To a team of an eight year old and his non-bowling aunt who was tired just watching her nephew during warm-ups.
WTF?!
Handicaps.
FML...
I mean, I knew there would be handicaps, but we seriously have our work cut out for us.
But, after checking the scores quick, we had two minutes to warm-up. I rolled two warm-up frames, Steph decided to pass on her warm-up tosses.
Our opponent this week? A mom presumably in her early 30's with a pair of pint-sized kids. Couldn't have been older than six.
And yes, he used ramps and bumpers.
It's fricking league play, and this kid has the audacity to use bumpers?
COME ON!
I almost went John McEnroe on this very cute, well behaved family. (The little girl, probably four years old, was wearing a Brad Johnson jersey and gave her mom high-fives on gutter balls and absolutely no love on the strikes she threw!)
So, whatever, they are spotted like 200-plus on us going into each game, we have to make up some 400 pins in the series.
I come out, throw a strike, spare and two more strikes and have like a 116 through five frames. Things are looking good. Steph was throwing well, too.
In the eighth or ninth frame, Steph's like, "Oh crap, we are down like 85 pins!"
It's at that point we learned about their massive handicaps.
We closed the gap, but lost by 14, I rolled a solid 191, Steph was at a solid 139.
Game two, we get absolutely pummeled. So bad in fact that the kid was basically taunting us when he decided to forgo the use of his ramp.
If only he would've scrapped the bumpers as well. He freaking threw two spares, following each with a nine! That's already like an extra 40 pins on his puny 40 average! He doubled up his score.
The mom was on her A-game too, despite the fact that she wasn't getting any high-fives on her numerous strikes and spares!
Meanwhile, I dropped from a 191 to a 159 and Steph dropped from a 139 to a 119. That added up to a 100 pin loss.
Yuck!
We went 0-3 against a kid that had to use a ramp and bumpers.
Wow.
I definitely overstated our cakewalk to a championship.
We have our work cut out for us!
Loyal readers may be in store for a mid-April let down when we don't win the championship...
Side notes:
So, Steph and I stroll to the alley, check the scores and we did completely dominate last week. Team high scratch game, team high series, etc, etc. etc.
It wasn't even close.
However, here's the deal, we went 2-1. That means we lost a point. To a team of an eight year old and his non-bowling aunt who was tired just watching her nephew during warm-ups.
WTF?!
Handicaps.
FML...
I mean, I knew there would be handicaps, but we seriously have our work cut out for us.
But, after checking the scores quick, we had two minutes to warm-up. I rolled two warm-up frames, Steph decided to pass on her warm-up tosses.
Our opponent this week? A mom presumably in her early 30's with a pair of pint-sized kids. Couldn't have been older than six.
And yes, he used ramps and bumpers.
It's fricking league play, and this kid has the audacity to use bumpers?
COME ON!
I almost went John McEnroe on this very cute, well behaved family. (The little girl, probably four years old, was wearing a Brad Johnson jersey and gave her mom high-fives on gutter balls and absolutely no love on the strikes she threw!)
So, whatever, they are spotted like 200-plus on us going into each game, we have to make up some 400 pins in the series.
I come out, throw a strike, spare and two more strikes and have like a 116 through five frames. Things are looking good. Steph was throwing well, too.
In the eighth or ninth frame, Steph's like, "Oh crap, we are down like 85 pins!"
It's at that point we learned about their massive handicaps.
We closed the gap, but lost by 14, I rolled a solid 191, Steph was at a solid 139.
Game two, we get absolutely pummeled. So bad in fact that the kid was basically taunting us when he decided to forgo the use of his ramp.
If only he would've scrapped the bumpers as well. He freaking threw two spares, following each with a nine! That's already like an extra 40 pins on his puny 40 average! He doubled up his score.
The mom was on her A-game too, despite the fact that she wasn't getting any high-fives on her numerous strikes and spares!
Meanwhile, I dropped from a 191 to a 159 and Steph dropped from a 139 to a 119. That added up to a 100 pin loss.
Yuck!
We went 0-3 against a kid that had to use a ramp and bumpers.
Wow.
I definitely overstated our cakewalk to a championship.
We have our work cut out for us!
Loyal readers may be in store for a mid-April let down when we don't win the championship...
Side notes:
- The Vikings are 7-1 and in control of the NSIC North and swept the Packers (I'm still bracing for the let down...).
- Our wonderful friends, Scott & Laura, helped us put in our new windows in our bedroom and I'm already feeling the increased heat efficiency! They will be back tomorrow to help pop in two more! Considering I'm the opposite of a handy-man, their help is invaluable!
- My awesome wife makes me laugh for completely random reasons everyday and I love it. If I could be disciplined enough to take notes on the stuff she says I could make millions on a book deal...
Monday, October 26, 2009
Bowling Championship Begins
Steph and I joined a new bowling league that opened last night. It's the third or fourth league we've been in together and we try to have fun.
But, last night's league gave me a new mission.
"Win the whole fucking thing" (Roger Dorn, Major League)
Why am I so serious about this?
Because we arrived at the alley, walked by all the teams, scoped them out (lots of gutter balls...) and parked at our assigned lane.
The analysis of the opposition is quite simple.
Lots of kids.
That's right, we joined a "family" bowling league, and half of our family is our dogs - no kids.
So, we show up, Steph is about a 140 bowling, I'm about a 155. We should dominate this thing.
We played against a nine year old boy and his aunt who appeared tired just watching the practice rounds.
Game One - I come out hot, roll a 199, feelin' pretty good. Lots of strikes, even a turkey and a double or two. Steph was solid as well, in the mid-130's. I hadn't bowled since late July, Steph had bowled just once since then. Not a bad debut.
It helps that there was literally no pressure on us. The 9 year old bowled like a 60 something, the aunt bowled in the 70's. Neither even closed out a single frame.
PURE DOMINATION.
Game two was similar, I kind of got tired, which is semi-embarrassing. But I finished strong with a 150-something. I lost to Steph, though. Our opponents totaled a 190.
I think we won by like 400 pins. I'm not a mathematician for crying out loud - let's be honest, I was a communication major at Concordia. But it was multiple 100's.
I talk a big game here on my blog. But, we had fun with it. The kid was pretty cool, and during warm-ups, he tried to copy my whack-bowling style. The aunt was nice, too, and don't worry, we didn't taunt them or anything.
I did learn one thing - Steph and I will be gunning for each other in this league.
As we walked out, I looked at the other scores on the screens. I don't remember seeing any in the 100's.
Handicap will clearly come into play, especially since I bowling about 20 pins over my average in week one. But, it really shouldn't matter. We should crush every week.
At this point, you may be wondering about our intentions of joining a "family" bowling league - we get a Wii at the end of this league, no brainer!
That means it's me against Steph - Bring it On!!!
But, last night's league gave me a new mission.
"Win the whole fucking thing" (Roger Dorn, Major League)
Why am I so serious about this?
Because we arrived at the alley, walked by all the teams, scoped them out (lots of gutter balls...) and parked at our assigned lane.
The analysis of the opposition is quite simple.
Lots of kids.
That's right, we joined a "family" bowling league, and half of our family is our dogs - no kids.
So, we show up, Steph is about a 140 bowling, I'm about a 155. We should dominate this thing.
We played against a nine year old boy and his aunt who appeared tired just watching the practice rounds.
Game One - I come out hot, roll a 199, feelin' pretty good. Lots of strikes, even a turkey and a double or two. Steph was solid as well, in the mid-130's. I hadn't bowled since late July, Steph had bowled just once since then. Not a bad debut.
It helps that there was literally no pressure on us. The 9 year old bowled like a 60 something, the aunt bowled in the 70's. Neither even closed out a single frame.
PURE DOMINATION.
Game two was similar, I kind of got tired, which is semi-embarrassing. But I finished strong with a 150-something. I lost to Steph, though. Our opponents totaled a 190.
I think we won by like 400 pins. I'm not a mathematician for crying out loud - let's be honest, I was a communication major at Concordia. But it was multiple 100's.
I talk a big game here on my blog. But, we had fun with it. The kid was pretty cool, and during warm-ups, he tried to copy my whack-bowling style. The aunt was nice, too, and don't worry, we didn't taunt them or anything.
I did learn one thing - Steph and I will be gunning for each other in this league.
As we walked out, I looked at the other scores on the screens. I don't remember seeing any in the 100's.
Handicap will clearly come into play, especially since I bowling about 20 pins over my average in week one. But, it really shouldn't matter. We should crush every week.
At this point, you may be wondering about our intentions of joining a "family" bowling league - we get a Wii at the end of this league, no brainer!
That means it's me against Steph - Bring it On!!!
Friday, October 23, 2009
Date Night + Roto = BRASA!!!
Anyone who knows me knows I'm into Fantasy Baseball.
Anyone who knows Fantasy Baseball knows it is also known as Rotisserie Baseball.
Anyone who knows Rotisserie Baseball knows Rotisserie is short for Roto.
Anyone who knows Roto knows I dominate. In a fantasy baseball league that has never seen a repeat champion, I accomplished a three-peat. That speaks for itself.
So, it's no wonder that on my date night tonight, I went Roto on it!
Steph and I received a wedding gift card to a hip restaurant in Northeast Minneapolis and after nearly 10 months of happy marriage, finally decided to use said card at Brasa.
Brasa's signature is Rotisserie chicken. (please note the consistent capitalization of Rotisserie!)
The joint, located on Hennepin just off 4th street in NE Mpls, is quaint. Parking is limited. We parked two blocks away and hoofed it, no biggie!
Well, as soon as I parked the car and stepped onto the cool, wet pavement, I could feel the aroma of the slowly cooked chicken make its way into my senses.
I definitely led the way to the restaurant at a fast pace. Not only was I hungry, but the smells drew me in like a Luke Skywalker to the Darth Vader's Death Star.
We got into the place, and I wasn't kidding about the "quaint" observation. It's a small establishment, but very cozy, hip and cool. There was about a 20 minute wait - not bad for a Friday evening.
It was just enough time to settle into the corner of the joint, grab a quick tap brew and have a nice conversation.
Speaking of the brews, the beer list was short - but made an impact! For those who prefer a Miller Light and some Wings, this is not your place.
But, as a dude who enjoys whatever beer is on sale, as well as whatever beer is in my brother-in-law's (Jay) fridge, I totally dug the small selection.
The closest thing to a Miller (or Coors, Bud, Mich Golden, etc) Light was a bottle of Corona!
We went with a Surly first, then I had a Bells with dinner.
Our dinner order was the house specialty, Rotisserie chicken with red beans and rice, corn bread along with a starter of chips and guacamole.
Everything was outstanding. The food was better than the aroma that struck me from two blocks away.
I couldn't have been more satisfied with the meal, I'm actually still savoring it!
The best part was that it was completely affordable. The bill for the two of us with our drinks was comparable to a typical chain restaurant (Chili's, Applebees, Friday's, etc) - and we had the house specialty!
I mentioned a few times that Brasa is "quaint" - it is definitely a small, cozy restaurant. But that is part of the charm. Tucked in "Nordeast" - the eatery makes excellent use of the limited square footage. Steph and I were seated smack-dab in the middle of the place, in the only "middle table" that was used.
As a fairly soft-spoken person in most situations, I prefer to be in the corner or up against a wall in a fairly private booth.
This table was the opposite. It was as small as a two person table comes. It was right next to another table with six people at it who were actively conversing.
But the acoustics, background music and our fellow customers all made the setting a perfect environment for a date - whether a first date or a "married couple date!" I never felt as though our conversation was being sniped by our neighbors, and never felt like our surrounding tables' topics were invading our dialog, and the music in the background was just that: in the background! - it was the perfect mix!
I'm excited to return to Brasa in the near future - almost as excited as I am for my 2010 Rotisserie Baseball Draft!
Oh yeah, this morning, I decided to pick my own lottery numbers - went with five significant numbers to Steph and I with our Powerball number being the heavy-hitter - our wedding anniversary (which I already can't remember - uh-oh!).
Wish us luck...
Anyone who knows Fantasy Baseball knows it is also known as Rotisserie Baseball.
Anyone who knows Rotisserie Baseball knows Rotisserie is short for Roto.
Anyone who knows Roto knows I dominate. In a fantasy baseball league that has never seen a repeat champion, I accomplished a three-peat. That speaks for itself.
So, it's no wonder that on my date night tonight, I went Roto on it!
Steph and I received a wedding gift card to a hip restaurant in Northeast Minneapolis and after nearly 10 months of happy marriage, finally decided to use said card at Brasa.
Brasa's signature is Rotisserie chicken. (please note the consistent capitalization of Rotisserie!)
The joint, located on Hennepin just off 4th street in NE Mpls, is quaint. Parking is limited. We parked two blocks away and hoofed it, no biggie!
Well, as soon as I parked the car and stepped onto the cool, wet pavement, I could feel the aroma of the slowly cooked chicken make its way into my senses.
I definitely led the way to the restaurant at a fast pace. Not only was I hungry, but the smells drew me in like a Luke Skywalker to the Darth Vader's Death Star.
We got into the place, and I wasn't kidding about the "quaint" observation. It's a small establishment, but very cozy, hip and cool. There was about a 20 minute wait - not bad for a Friday evening.
It was just enough time to settle into the corner of the joint, grab a quick tap brew and have a nice conversation.
Speaking of the brews, the beer list was short - but made an impact! For those who prefer a Miller Light and some Wings, this is not your place.
But, as a dude who enjoys whatever beer is on sale, as well as whatever beer is in my brother-in-law's (Jay) fridge, I totally dug the small selection.
The closest thing to a Miller (or Coors, Bud, Mich Golden, etc) Light was a bottle of Corona!
We went with a Surly first, then I had a Bells with dinner.
Our dinner order was the house specialty, Rotisserie chicken with red beans and rice, corn bread along with a starter of chips and guacamole.
Everything was outstanding. The food was better than the aroma that struck me from two blocks away.
I couldn't have been more satisfied with the meal, I'm actually still savoring it!
The best part was that it was completely affordable. The bill for the two of us with our drinks was comparable to a typical chain restaurant (Chili's, Applebees, Friday's, etc) - and we had the house specialty!
I mentioned a few times that Brasa is "quaint" - it is definitely a small, cozy restaurant. But that is part of the charm. Tucked in "Nordeast" - the eatery makes excellent use of the limited square footage. Steph and I were seated smack-dab in the middle of the place, in the only "middle table" that was used.
As a fairly soft-spoken person in most situations, I prefer to be in the corner or up against a wall in a fairly private booth.
This table was the opposite. It was as small as a two person table comes. It was right next to another table with six people at it who were actively conversing.
But the acoustics, background music and our fellow customers all made the setting a perfect environment for a date - whether a first date or a "married couple date!" I never felt as though our conversation was being sniped by our neighbors, and never felt like our surrounding tables' topics were invading our dialog, and the music in the background was just that: in the background! - it was the perfect mix!
I'm excited to return to Brasa in the near future - almost as excited as I am for my 2010 Rotisserie Baseball Draft!
Oh yeah, this morning, I decided to pick my own lottery numbers - went with five significant numbers to Steph and I with our Powerball number being the heavy-hitter - our wedding anniversary (which I already can't remember - uh-oh!).
Wish us luck...
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Prepare for a Let Down
I'm pretty psyched that I have a comment, thanks sis! I also know of at least three other readers aside from my commenter, which is huge. That's two more than I anticipated. I was banking on my loyal wife, Steph, to be only reader - and that was only because I was going to make her read it immediately after I posted it before my writings drifted off into cyberspace irrelevance!
So, with that, here comes a big let down. It's been nearly a week since my last post, and everyday I think of things that inspire me to write, and I really don't have anything.
But, it's okay, by now we should all be used to let downs, at least Minnesota Sports Fans should be...
I'm well trained in being let down, but I am very poor at handling it. I get my hopes up any time a MN sports franchise appears to be succeeding.
So, in preparation of the next big let downs - the next two that occurred to me today are from the Minnesota Vikings. This sucks because they are 6-0 and not even playing to their potential. I can see a 1998 coming. Dominant regular season, some big wins (including at Pittsburgh this Sunday much to the chagrin of our soccer coach Joe!) and even a dominating playoff win at the Dome. Then, wham, a huge shocking loss.
But that's not even the let down I'm worried about most. I'm far more concerned about what I saw in my Sports Illustrated (SI) this evening. One of the first articles is about a billionaire LA mogul who wants to build the Taj Mahal of NFL stadiums. Yikes. This thing is sweet. Who wouldn't want to play there? And why WOULDN'T the Wilf's want to sell the squad for a pretty billion dollars and make a huge profit a la Red McCombs?
Clearly Minnesota will not build a Vikings stadium. Fresh of the Gophers' TCF Bank Stadium and the Twins' Target Field along with the awesome economy, I think the public (liberals and conservatives alike) is done with ponying up public funds for pro sports.
What concerned me most about the SI article is that we were not one of the four front running teams mentioned as likely suitors. In fact, SI even went as far as to write us off completely because they thought it was a forgone conclusion that we'd solve our stadium issue here because of the fact that the Twins and Gophers both got new houses.
What the fuck happened to journalism? Do your homework buddy. What a hack. All it would take would be to find ONE stinking stadium article on Star Tribune's website, and if that article wasn't enough, just read all the "insightful" comments.
No Chance!
Speaking of let downs, tonight is the Powerball drawing, and yes, I did get my ticket. I was smart enough to "delegate" that assignment to my awesome intern, Tim Evans, who also works part time at the North Mpls EZ Stop. I told him today that no matter what it's the last time I have him buy my ticket, because if I win, I won't be purchasing more Powerball tickets (duh) and if I lose, he fucked that assignment up, why would I give it to him again?
I apologize for the course language, but one of my favorite writers, Matt Taibbi of Rolling Stone, curses like a sailor and his shit cracks me up. So, grow some thick skin America. You can watch rated R movies, and if you take the time to read this far down on my blog, I'm not even worried about offending you at this point.
Wish me luck on overcoming my next big let down - tonight's Powerball drawing.
Peace.
So, with that, here comes a big let down. It's been nearly a week since my last post, and everyday I think of things that inspire me to write, and I really don't have anything.
But, it's okay, by now we should all be used to let downs, at least Minnesota Sports Fans should be...
I'm well trained in being let down, but I am very poor at handling it. I get my hopes up any time a MN sports franchise appears to be succeeding.
So, in preparation of the next big let downs - the next two that occurred to me today are from the Minnesota Vikings. This sucks because they are 6-0 and not even playing to their potential. I can see a 1998 coming. Dominant regular season, some big wins (including at Pittsburgh this Sunday much to the chagrin of our soccer coach Joe!) and even a dominating playoff win at the Dome. Then, wham, a huge shocking loss.
But that's not even the let down I'm worried about most. I'm far more concerned about what I saw in my Sports Illustrated (SI) this evening. One of the first articles is about a billionaire LA mogul who wants to build the Taj Mahal of NFL stadiums. Yikes. This thing is sweet. Who wouldn't want to play there? And why WOULDN'T the Wilf's want to sell the squad for a pretty billion dollars and make a huge profit a la Red McCombs?
Clearly Minnesota will not build a Vikings stadium. Fresh of the Gophers' TCF Bank Stadium and the Twins' Target Field along with the awesome economy, I think the public (liberals and conservatives alike) is done with ponying up public funds for pro sports.
What concerned me most about the SI article is that we were not one of the four front running teams mentioned as likely suitors. In fact, SI even went as far as to write us off completely because they thought it was a forgone conclusion that we'd solve our stadium issue here because of the fact that the Twins and Gophers both got new houses.
What the fuck happened to journalism? Do your homework buddy. What a hack. All it would take would be to find ONE stinking stadium article on Star Tribune's website, and if that article wasn't enough, just read all the "insightful" comments.
No Chance!
Speaking of let downs, tonight is the Powerball drawing, and yes, I did get my ticket. I was smart enough to "delegate" that assignment to my awesome intern, Tim Evans, who also works part time at the North Mpls EZ Stop. I told him today that no matter what it's the last time I have him buy my ticket, because if I win, I won't be purchasing more Powerball tickets (duh) and if I lose, he fucked that assignment up, why would I give it to him again?
I apologize for the course language, but one of my favorite writers, Matt Taibbi of Rolling Stone, curses like a sailor and his shit cracks me up. So, grow some thick skin America. You can watch rated R movies, and if you take the time to read this far down on my blog, I'm not even worried about offending you at this point.
Wish me luck on overcoming my next big let down - tonight's Powerball drawing.
Peace.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
What a Friday...
What an eventful Friday yesterday, it was so eventful, in fact, that I didn't even have a chance to blog about it last night!
Why didn't I have a chance to blog about it? Well, when Steph and I took Mollie and Ryder out for their evening walk to the park, Ryder had a tough time squeezing out his grumpy. Seriously, the poor guy was squatting for around five minutes, and that's like 35 minutes in puppy time (x7, right?!). Well, he had some of the stinky stuff stuck in his hair and he was not happy about that.
When we got them back to the house, we walked Ryd up to the tub for some scrub-a-dub.
Usually, this is a painless five minute process - he doesn't particularly enjoy it, but he knows we are providing him with a valuable service, so he usually just sucks it up.
Not last night. Last night, Ryder-boy was squirming around in the water, splashing and trying like hell to get out. This would be manageable if the water was just soapy.
But no, it was filled with poop-scraps.
After this 20 minute ordeal, I was covered in water, Steph was covered in water, it was gross.
And, one thing I failed to mention is my inability to stomach the foul smells of a strong deuce.
I was in a foul mood after this. I gotta hand it to Steph, though, she was a trooper - she always is!
After that, we watched My Best Friend's Girl, and as usual, Steph fell asleep maybe 30 minutes into the flick, while I watched the entire show.
Weird.
The highlights of the day were three real-life Seinfeld/Curb moments, so I'll leave this posting with them, in sequence:
Scenario 1 - awkward moment in public
In the morning, I'm heading to Caribou, didn't look for the best parking spot in the lot, just found one quickly and conveniently and parked. Wasn't in a hurry, so wasn't rushing into the building.
As I'm walking through the lot, an SUV races to a front row spot, driving literally right in front of me. The guy definitely saw that I was walking towards the "Bou" before him, but his spot allowed him to get out of his vehicle and make his way towards the entrance before me.
He gets to the door a few steps ahead of me, opens it, and in an anti-Seinfeld/Curb fashion, he allows me to go first. Pretty "Minnesota-Nice" if you ask me.
When we get into the store, the barista offers to help the next in line, the only two waiting were the two of us.
Here's the awkward part. What do I do? Do I let him go first since he was courteous by opening the door for me? Or did he open the door for me because he saw me walking through the lot and though I should go first?
So, trying to repeat a "Minnesota Nice" gesture to him, I looked at him and waved him ahead. But, he did the same thing at the same time. Hmmm. So, I tried to Alpha-Male my gesture and force him to go first. He did the same. So, after the two simultaneous gestures, I just went for it and ordered my drink in a very awkward way.
If I had a touch of Larry David to me, this situation could've blown up with me melting down in public. I should've just tried it in real life to see what happened. But oh well.
Scenario 2 - tip coordination
After work, Steph and I met up with Linsdey Palmer at Chili's for happy hour. The three of us split the "3 for $20 for 2 people meal" which is supposed to be for two people, but it's an asinine amount of food for two. Even the three of us struggled to finish it. Although my friends Bill, Trevor and Sam would've been able to down it solo I'm sure. They would be ashamed of my eating ability in this situation.
But I digress. That's not the point here.
So the three of us split this meal for two and each had a pair of two-for-ones. Kind of a sticky bill.
No worries, the server decides to be kind and splits it 1/3 to Palmer and 2/3 to us.
Sweet.
While waiting for the bill, Palmer has the line of the night. We were talking about my horrible drinking habits, which include coffee all day, a soda on the way home to transition back to reality, and a beer or two at night.
So the ladies were giving me a hard time, and in the midst, Palmer begins educating me on water, "So I got one of those plastic refillable water bottles, that, well, I drink water out of ...." She wasn't done, but Steph and I burst out laughing. After we settled down from our outburst, Palmer says, I was going to finish, but now I won't, in a sort of funny/embarrassed way. We pressed her to finish, she kind of chuckled and said, "Well, I was just going to say that I drink water out of it..."
After the line of the night from Palmer, server comes back, Steph and Lindsey look at each other and without flinching, coordinate the tip together.
Clearly, tip coordination is not wrong, and should not be frowned upon. Larry David wins. In a recent episode of Curb, he tried to coordinate his tip with Jason Alexander (George) to no avail. The episode obviously used this as the main issue. Everyone on the episode agreed with Jason Alexander that tip coordination is wrong and no one's business but the individual tipper. Larry said if there are two bills, the tip should be coordinated for the same service - DUH!
Scenario 3 - plastic packaging
After Chili's, Steph and I went to Best Buy, so I could get the cables to hook my laptop up to our TV so I can watch the Golden Bears battle the Mustangs tonight on the gridiron. The cable came in one of those impossible to open plastic packages. I was trying to open this AFTER the poop incident ruined my night.
Frustration clearly ensued.
I pulled out a scissors, cut open a slice, tried to rip the slice. Nada.
Had to cut that package for like five minutes to get my stupid cable out.
After that, I opened the other cable (easier to open package, thankfully) - and the dork at Best Buy sold me the wrong F-ing cable. What a dick. Now I have to go back and get a new cable today.
Hey kid, the jerk store called, they're out of YOU!
To bring it all back to the first posting from Thursday night - I remembered to waste a buck on a new Powerball ticket. Wish me luck tonight at 9:59 p.m.
Why didn't I have a chance to blog about it? Well, when Steph and I took Mollie and Ryder out for their evening walk to the park, Ryder had a tough time squeezing out his grumpy. Seriously, the poor guy was squatting for around five minutes, and that's like 35 minutes in puppy time (x7, right?!). Well, he had some of the stinky stuff stuck in his hair and he was not happy about that.
When we got them back to the house, we walked Ryd up to the tub for some scrub-a-dub.
Usually, this is a painless five minute process - he doesn't particularly enjoy it, but he knows we are providing him with a valuable service, so he usually just sucks it up.
Not last night. Last night, Ryder-boy was squirming around in the water, splashing and trying like hell to get out. This would be manageable if the water was just soapy.
But no, it was filled with poop-scraps.
After this 20 minute ordeal, I was covered in water, Steph was covered in water, it was gross.
And, one thing I failed to mention is my inability to stomach the foul smells of a strong deuce.
I was in a foul mood after this. I gotta hand it to Steph, though, she was a trooper - she always is!
After that, we watched My Best Friend's Girl, and as usual, Steph fell asleep maybe 30 minutes into the flick, while I watched the entire show.
Weird.
The highlights of the day were three real-life Seinfeld/Curb moments, so I'll leave this posting with them, in sequence:
Scenario 1 - awkward moment in public
In the morning, I'm heading to Caribou, didn't look for the best parking spot in the lot, just found one quickly and conveniently and parked. Wasn't in a hurry, so wasn't rushing into the building.
As I'm walking through the lot, an SUV races to a front row spot, driving literally right in front of me. The guy definitely saw that I was walking towards the "Bou" before him, but his spot allowed him to get out of his vehicle and make his way towards the entrance before me.
He gets to the door a few steps ahead of me, opens it, and in an anti-Seinfeld/Curb fashion, he allows me to go first. Pretty "Minnesota-Nice" if you ask me.
When we get into the store, the barista offers to help the next in line, the only two waiting were the two of us.
Here's the awkward part. What do I do? Do I let him go first since he was courteous by opening the door for me? Or did he open the door for me because he saw me walking through the lot and though I should go first?
So, trying to repeat a "Minnesota Nice" gesture to him, I looked at him and waved him ahead. But, he did the same thing at the same time. Hmmm. So, I tried to Alpha-Male my gesture and force him to go first. He did the same. So, after the two simultaneous gestures, I just went for it and ordered my drink in a very awkward way.
If I had a touch of Larry David to me, this situation could've blown up with me melting down in public. I should've just tried it in real life to see what happened. But oh well.
Scenario 2 - tip coordination
After work, Steph and I met up with Linsdey Palmer at Chili's for happy hour. The three of us split the "3 for $20 for 2 people meal" which is supposed to be for two people, but it's an asinine amount of food for two. Even the three of us struggled to finish it. Although my friends Bill, Trevor and Sam would've been able to down it solo I'm sure. They would be ashamed of my eating ability in this situation.
But I digress. That's not the point here.
So the three of us split this meal for two and each had a pair of two-for-ones. Kind of a sticky bill.
No worries, the server decides to be kind and splits it 1/3 to Palmer and 2/3 to us.
Sweet.
While waiting for the bill, Palmer has the line of the night. We were talking about my horrible drinking habits, which include coffee all day, a soda on the way home to transition back to reality, and a beer or two at night.
So the ladies were giving me a hard time, and in the midst, Palmer begins educating me on water, "So I got one of those plastic refillable water bottles, that, well, I drink water out of ...." She wasn't done, but Steph and I burst out laughing. After we settled down from our outburst, Palmer says, I was going to finish, but now I won't, in a sort of funny/embarrassed way. We pressed her to finish, she kind of chuckled and said, "Well, I was just going to say that I drink water out of it..."
After the line of the night from Palmer, server comes back, Steph and Lindsey look at each other and without flinching, coordinate the tip together.
Clearly, tip coordination is not wrong, and should not be frowned upon. Larry David wins. In a recent episode of Curb, he tried to coordinate his tip with Jason Alexander (George) to no avail. The episode obviously used this as the main issue. Everyone on the episode agreed with Jason Alexander that tip coordination is wrong and no one's business but the individual tipper. Larry said if there are two bills, the tip should be coordinated for the same service - DUH!
Scenario 3 - plastic packaging
After Chili's, Steph and I went to Best Buy, so I could get the cables to hook my laptop up to our TV so I can watch the Golden Bears battle the Mustangs tonight on the gridiron. The cable came in one of those impossible to open plastic packages. I was trying to open this AFTER the poop incident ruined my night.
Frustration clearly ensued.
I pulled out a scissors, cut open a slice, tried to rip the slice. Nada.
Had to cut that package for like five minutes to get my stupid cable out.
After that, I opened the other cable (easier to open package, thankfully) - and the dork at Best Buy sold me the wrong F-ing cable. What a dick. Now I have to go back and get a new cable today.
Hey kid, the jerk store called, they're out of YOU!
To bring it all back to the first posting from Thursday night - I remembered to waste a buck on a new Powerball ticket. Wish me luck tonight at 9:59 p.m.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Things I said I'd never do...
The fact that I have a blog sums up the title of this post. But I'm not starting it for any reason other than the fact that sometimes I just need to spill the thoughts out of my brain onto my keyboard. I'm not sure if anyone will ever read this, and it really doesn't matter, I just want to write!
I'm doing something else I said I'd never do, too. Playing the Powerball. I figure, what the hell, why not? If it's a buck or two a week and I have it in my wallet, I might as well. I don't spend money, anyway, so why not, right?!
That's sort of a contradiction, I know, because what would I do with millions of dollars? Probably spend it, in theory, but knowing me, I'd probably put it all away in as many different accounts as possible, pay off debt and make sure Steph drives a car that can actually run.
I'm too practical to win the lottery. But Steph isn't. She could spend it all for us, and that would probably be fun.
Usually the people who win the lottery are the antithesis of who the general public thinks should win. I guess my inability to spend money makes me one of those people.
So based on that, I am an ideal candidate to win the lottery, so I might as well play even though I always said I never would because the odds just don't support spending one dollar on it!
People always say they wouldn't change if they won the lottery. I think that's bullshit. My core principal's wouldn't change - at 27, I am who I am at this point. However, my life would change. I'd still work at my job, which is demanding and stressful - but it's my passion. And it gives me purpose. And with that kind of money, I could give a healthy donation to ensure that we are staffed accordingly to drop stress across the board! That would be the life...
Obviously, there are a lot of other things to do with lottery winnings, that's not the point of this post, so I apologize for getting off track. Part of the fun of playing the lottery is what you'd do if you won, and I'm all about the daydreaming.
So, please wish me luck this Saturday night at 9:59 p.m. - that is if I'm "lucky" enough to remember to waste $1 on a ticket!
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