Stop Acting Like a Sixteen Year Old

So last weekend Liz and I decided to go geocaching on Saturday. We get the first one we go after with little problem and head to the next. Its next to a fruit stand and looks to be another piece of cake, the only problem is theres a little three foot drop off. So while Liz starts walking around, I figure I'll hop down and look around since the geocache is showing as being right there. Then when Liz comes down the hill I can look at her with the shit-eating grin and say "found it". At least thats how it should have happened.

Instead I hit the ground and my right knee totally gives out and I slam to the ground with various terrible popping and cracking noises. My phone and my keys go skittering across the ground. And I'm sadly laying on the ground in a dust pile. Liz comes around the corner and at first thinks that I'm looking for the cache on the ground. Then she realizes that I'm not doing well and helps me up. It feels terrible and its all I can do to get back to the car. Sadly without finding the geocache.

Flash to three days later, the earliest I can get in to see my new orthopedist, my knee, calf and thigh are super swelled. My calf is flexed without any apparent internal off switch. My knee is super painful and I can put barely any weight on my leg. I get x-rayed by a super rough tech, then my new doctor pushes and prods my right leg. Worried about blood clots, he wants my leg ultrasounded. However apparently the tech at the Greer Hospital was out or on vacation or something because it meant that I had to drive over to another hospital to get it done. Then when I went to schedule my MRI, they couldn't schedule me in Greer for at least a week. But they could fit me in at yet another hospital tomorrow.

So I finally hobble out to my car and get over to the next hospital. After waiting for what felt like forever as most of the staff headed for the doors, I finally had a guy lead me back to the ultrasound room. I had thought before that an EKG was the weirdest medical procedure to go through, but the male ultrasound takes the crown by far. I also had the urge at all times to yell "It's a boy!"

But no blood clots, so thats good. I doubt the MRI tomorrow will come back nearly as clean. But at least I get to sleep in a little bit.

Left 4 Dead 3: Family Time

I just had the best most vivid dream ever last night. Myself, Liz and my parents were the 4 some in a Left 4 Dead esque romp through a post apocalyptic town. It started out with me and Liz hanging out in a hipster style bar with a bunch of people that I assumed were our friends, however I did not know any of them. Everything is normal and very realistic and we're having a good time. Somehow it skips ahead to us going to sleep at my parents place. However it wasn't my parents actual place, it was more of a small town New England town. Morning arrives and disaster strikes. Things are exploding, flooding, falling apart, it was crazy.

So it was Liz and my parents and myself running around trying to survive, but things weren't normal. In one scene that I remember, we were going through a crumbling, flooding stone library. At one point we were walking across the second floor and the floor starts to break and the wall at the end of the hall falls down causing a big rush of water that starts washing Liz and mom down the hall. And at the last minute I reached out and pulled them into a nook in the wall, as the cascade of rubble goes rolling by. I hope this translates to a half decent mental picture, because it was hellishly cinematic.

We get out of the crumbly library and the flooding has gone away and we somehow are in someone's house, sorta recovering after the traumatic library experience. Then stupidly I think to myself, doesn't Left 4 Dead have zombies? I open up the front door and theres zombies everywhere. In one of the funnier parts of the dream, I look down and theres a box full of machetes sitting beside the door. Just as I pick one up, the wall explodes and Liz and mom are pulled outside by a giant monster. Dad and I bust out the front door swinging away at zombies. I turn to dad and ask "Where should we go?" and he turns to me calmly and says "Follow the checkpoint over there." This is the first time that I notice that theres a blue glowing diamond on one of the buildings across the zombie filled plaza. So I'm hacking through the horde like its my job and get to this building that ends up being the hipster bar from the beginning of the dream. So I was hacking trough the zombie hipsters and the window in the back flashes and I woke up.

Very crazy dream. Don't know how great it actually translated.

Selective Bouts of Laziness

I haven't written in forever. I often tell people who ask that it is because it is much harder to write a blog in the good times. But the truth is, looking back, it was always good times. So what else could keep me away? One thing could be the fact that as someone writes more and more of these things, it gets hard to write what you have on your mind. Theres tons of things that I would love to write out, some of which would be pretty darn hilarious. But when you care about the people around you, you don't know how they are going to take their business written on the internet, even if it is written in a joking way. Heck even looking back at the last blog's comments(which I didn't read until today), I somehow offended one of my best friends writing a funny list about things that bug me in weddings. But even that isn't the main reason for me staying away from the blog for so long.

The real reason is selective bouts of laziness.

I am normally a hard worker. I have a very creative job that allows me to flex my artistic side and I love it. But after you are designing designing designing all day long, my brain is fried. Even if I have a great story, I sit down to my computer and then end up in facebook instead. However this doesn't just apply to writing, there are other activities that I avoid just because I'm tired of thinking. I love Moe's (even though my fiancée hates it, something about it all tasting the same, however like Nickelback, if you like that one flavor, this doesnt bother you), yet I avoid going a lot of the time because they ask too many damn questions. Perhaps I have this disillusioned view caused by movies and television, where a person visits a neighborhood restaurant a couple times and they know what you want when you walk in the door. I don't even make it hard for them either, I always order the same thing, the same way, and the people working there I have seen multiple times. Plus, I'M ORDERING SOMETHING ON THE MENU, it lists what's on the burrito on the menu, why can't it just be made that way. But no, instead I need to answer fifty questions to get a burrito. At subway I have developed a way to order my sub in about ten words, but theres no way around going item to item in a never ending Tex Mex quest.

Recently however my laziness has spread to items that I wouldn't expect it to, video games. We have been super busy at work lately, so by the time 4:30 rolls around I am totally burnt out. But then I pop in Borderlands to play the latest expansion. While it is without a doubt an awesome addition to a solid game, I catch myself going "I really wish these bandits would cool it and just let me walk on over to grab this item and get back to Captain So and So." I head shot enemies, not because its awesome(which it still is, especially with a flaming sniper rifle) but because it takes a lot less time to kill them that way. So I guess in an usual way, laziness has made me a better gamer.

But laziness aside, I also got engaged since the last time that I wrote and I find myself wanting to live life with her instead of writing down the play by play. But as she is perhaps a reason I don't write too often anymore, shes also the reason I decided today to come back to it. While getting my computer fixed, she found a link to the blog and apparently read it all. When she told me that she had, my mind instantly started freaking out because I can barely remember what all was written in here. Did I write something that would make her think poorly of me? Will she find it boring? Instead she asked one question:

"If I was in your blog, what would my nickname be?"

So hopefully I will start writing again and perhaps we will see.

PS she also thought the story where Katie punched me in the face was hilarious, shes a keeper.