It hurts to breath...

This is just a little update on the riveting life that is mine:

On July 3rd, Maegan and I went to Madison, Wisconsin to see a show called Rhythm & Booms, which is a fireworks show set to music. There were one billion people there, yet we still got prime seats. It was set in a huge park where people sat in the grass and faced a lake where the fireworks were shot off from the other side. Most of the firework shows that I've seen is like watching a movie on an airplane- small, distant, yet amusing. This was nothing like that. This was like watching a movie in 3D IMAX: colorful explosions that stretched past the peripheral with booms that shook your organs loose. And some good music to boot.

On the way back, we added two travel companions - Auston and his brother Travis - who are visiting family in Wisconsin and the entire reason we went to Rhythm & Booms to begin with. They stayed with us for the 4th and 5th and went back to Wisconsin with their mom, who came down for Ikea, yesterday.

We had a great time...for the most part. As you may know, I enjoy running, but that doesn't mean that I'm in shape. I discovered this after agreeing to go with Travis on a brisk jaunt, or better phrased: a horrific bout of pain-filled exertion. We ran two miles, which isn't bad, but at a rate that airplanes use at cruising altitude. On top of that, we did lunges, which is an exercise that first came into being about the time Eve took bite of that apple. All of this would have been plenty for a day's workout (x2), but Travis, half gymnast on his dad's side, demanded that we do another hour of upper body training. Now, 3 days later, I feel like I've been fed through a meat grinder and the only thing holding the shreds of my body together is a strong will not to die. Moral of this segment: Avoid Travis.

Finally, I will provide an update on Alejandro. Alas:

Obviously doing very well for himself. I'm so proud *sniff
Maybe I will introduce everyone to the rest of my garden someday. But for now, simply bask in Alejandro's avocadoness.

Ale-Alejandro

This is my avocado. His name is Alejandro. He has no leaves. I love him.

Oh Oysters Come To Work With Me!

I figure a great way to start my blog back up again after so much time is to share what went through my mind at the end of my lunch break today. Enjoy:

'The time has come,' the Walrus said,
'To go back down to work.'
This stirred in me great surprise,
To hear a walrus speaking,
And cause me to be quite late for the latter part of my shift.

'Now, don't you find that rather counter-productive?' the Andrew said,
To which the Walrus had no reply.

I think what I find most amusing about this is the complete abandonment of poetic structure after the second line. The content itself really isn't any more random than Lewis Carroll's original, but much unlike Carroll's, mine is a true story.

Blogging's back.

The British Cement Co.

Okay, the first thing that I noticed about Illinois when I got here is the stupid road system. I had never been to a place where directions sound something like this:

1. Drive down Ogden Ave.
2. Turn left onto Ogden Ave.

What? Why do I have to turn onto a road I'm already on. If I want to stay on a road, it should take no effort.

Plus, it is impossible to guess how to get somewhere. This is because roads are by no means in a grid system. In Tucson, if I know that I am on Speedway, and Grant is to my north, then by turning onto Swan which runs north/south, I'll eventually find Grant. Not so in Naperville. If you're on a north/south road for more than a mile, suddenly you're going west. And then, if you go one more mile, you're suddenly on an entirely different road because the road that you were on turned left a half mile ago! And God help you if you turned right, because that one takes you directly onto a toll road, and now your stuck paying $0.80 to be lost.

Now, since we're stuck on a toll road to who knows where, I'll explain how Illinois cement trucks add insult to injury. Here is a picture of what a cement truck looks like:









Ask any 6 year old boy what a cement truck looks like, and this would be it. Having been a 6 year old boy, I too assume that this is what a cement truck looks like. I've grown very accustomed to this concept, as I feel I have every right to.

Now that that's been established, let's get back to the previous scenario:
While stressing out about finding an exit before the next toll booth comes along, all of a sudden I am fearing for my life as a cement truck is hurtling toward me on the wrong side of the freeway. After much panic and swerving, I realize that the truck isn't getting any closer. In fact, it's moving in the same direction I'm going, despite the fact that it's facing me. That's when I realize that the makers of this cement truck were never 6 year old boys. Here is what it looks like:










Where the heck did this thing come from, Looking Glass Land? Not only is the mixer facing the wrong direction, they added a little box in the back just to make you think that the driver is on that end. There's even a exhaust pipe in the same place as a normal cement truck. It's like they want you have a heart attack on the freeway. I've seen more than a few of these, and I freak out every time.

So if you come to visit...you've been warned.

Posting Fail

I didn't realize that it'd be so hard to find time to do blog posts with a full time job. So I'm squeezing this one in before I go to work today. Work is going to be annoying because the forecast shows sun all day, and around here people freak-out like they've won the lottery. Well I'm sorry, but I happen to like the rain. And Butterfingers. But that's irrelevant.

Terrible to Behold

Today's post is one not to be taken lightly. I have discovered something that is both horrible and terrifying. There is a monster...and it makes it's home in a lake much closer to my apartment than I am comfortable with. Let me explain:

The other day I decided that I had to do something with my recyclables or else they'd take over my apartment building. So I loaded them into a far too awkwardly large box (about as awkward as that sentence structure) and carried them to my car. I then went on the city of Naperville's website to find out where the nearest recycling center was. At first I was delighted to see that it was only 2 miles away, but I'd soon wish it was 200.

As I pulled into the recycling drop-off area, I searched for the bins in which to throw my huge box. There was a small lake in the middle of the property that this facility was on, and I finally found the bins on the far side of it. In this eerie parking lot sat a man in his car whom I proceeded to ask if I'd found the right place. He said that I had and that he would take my box and put it away for me. Apparently this guy worked there, unless he just found strange ways to pass his time. I thanked him and began walking back to my car. That's when I saw it. I froze in mid step. What was that? Was that really there?

I hadn't noticed it before, but the lake was actually pretty gross. There were long posts sticking out of the water all over the place, and it was sort of trashy. And there, in the middle of the lake, perched atop a rotting wooden post, a face was staring back. I stood, locked in place as my gaze was ensnared by a wolf-like creature that seemed to be lacking in common wolf-like appendages. And it looked angry.

I assume it's some kind of scaregoose. Here are some pics I took, click on them to make them full size. It really creeps me out, man.