Sometimes you seize the day...

Other times the day seizes you.

Picture this:
There is a large man with a beer gut, a total of three teeth and 11 toes. He stands about 6'6" and weighs a meager 375lbs and his name is Leroy. Leroy has been in prison for the past 10 years and he's startin' to get REEEEEAAAAAL lonely and he thinks you've got a purdy mouth.

Actually, let me take that back. That analogy would imply that I had one big problem, which is patently untrue. Today was more along the lines of this:

You're Joe Pesci trying to break into the McAllister's house while they are on Christmas vacation, but this little twerp has been plunking away at you with his BB gun all evening, and you'd wring the little bastard's neck if you could just get ahold of him, but unfortunately he's turned the entire sidewalk to ice which results in you losing your footing and landing squarely on your ass. Once you finally regain your feet and trap the little twerp in his tree house, as you climb up to administer the coups dé grace, just as you grab the top rung, you realize that it's been cut 3/4 of the way thru and you plummet 10 feet back to the earth. That's what kind of day it's been. Lots of little Kevin McAllister events that add up to one gigantic Leroy of a day.

Birthday

I had a birthday, ymmmmhmmm. There was dinner, a circus, coworkers and friends, and Olivia. It was a pretty good time all in all. However, it's become strange to me; I've had my 26th birthday in Tennessee, 25th in Hawaii, 24th in Florida, 23rd in Pennsylvania, 22nd, 21st, 20th, and 19th in New York, and all the preceding ones in West Virginia. I've become accustomed to moving so frequently that nowhere really feels like "home" any more. I think I've mentioned this to some of you faithful readers before, and it still distresses me. I've lived in Tennessee for nearly a year (Dec. 8th it will be) and I'm still not convinced it's home. There's a line in Garden State:

"It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know."

I'm not sure if that's exactly how I feel, but it's pretty close. I'm proud to say that I have friends all over the country, friends that I could count on, but where do I get to stop and have a home again?

More of the same

Pictures of what I've been doing, and nonsense like that.

This Friday we had an aquarist bonfire at our house. Kevin tried to light a giant pile of freshly-cut grass from the yard in order to start said fire, but only ended up generating a lot of smoke and an unpleasant odor. After the addition of nearly half a gallon of lighter fluid, the grass was reluctantly forced to a sullen smolder, but the wood caught fire. Chili was eaten, hot cider and cold beer were drank, and a commotion was raised. Just a small commotion, probably not much more than a toddler, but raised nonetheless.


The next day Olivia and I went to Cade's Cove so that she could get pictures with a gigantic "view camera" that Olde Timey contraption you see in so many Back to the Future scenes. It was rather chilly early in the morning, with frost and all that nonsense, but by late afternoon I was able to fall asleep in a field in shorts and a tshirt while she lugged around that giant contraption on a tripod.


I had a fried apple pie, some jalepeño and peppermint flavored fudge (actually really good), and a pretty good time.

This was just a picture I took while we were out that I liked.