Cheap

For only 8 euros, you can taste croutons in Rome.There really was no purpose to this post.

trouble

My roommate Laura is in a sign language class. For this class, she has to sign the lyrics to Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" tomorrow, so here I am watching her practice and listening to the song, when suddenly my other roommate Sara bursts through the door.

"We're being attacked!" she cries out. Startled and wary, we follow her into the kitchen where a heart-stopping sight met our eyes. A two-inch-long Bumblebee is buzzing around in our ceiling light (please note that "Bumblebee" is capitalized to denote its power and ferocity). So Laura and I suit up for battle, developing a strategy for defense and finding makeshift flyswatters to combat this freak of nature, with Neil Diamond's egging us on in the background.

It turns out, though, that Bumblebees are not very adept at escaping from light fixtures. After poking the light for a few minutes to coax the Bumblebee out, we gave up. So now this insect on steroids is hanging out in our kitchen. Well fortified. Just waiting to pounce. If I don't blog again in the next few days, you can assume that the Bumblebee has struck again.

Pulling teeth

Last weekend, I read some children's books to kids at the local library. When I say "kids," I mean one girl who clearly had been forced at gunpoint to go to the library, which is, of course, the most boring place for a 10-year-old to visit in all of Kirksville. This girl was so uninterested The Amazing Bone that, despite the tension in the story (knife-wielding highwaymen!) and my brilliant storytelling abilities, she never once changed her blank stare; I didn't even get so much as an eyebrow raised in anticipation.

At the height of the excitement, I asked her what she thought would happen next. "I think the pig is going to be pushed into the oven" was the merriest response I could get out of her.

Everyone should read The Mysteries of Harris Burdick.

Speaking of mysteries, this is the kind of email I get from my loving sister.

busy again

You may have noticed that I barely updated last week. I think I figured out why this happened: last week was really easy. I only had class on three days, and nobody was willing to give any tests or have papers due, so I basically didn't do work. There was nothing forcing me to procrastinate by blogging, so I didn't. But this week, I have three tests, a paper due, and a 30-minute presentation to prepare for next Monday, so look for more consistent blogging.

Now that I have resolved to blog, it seems that nothing interesting has been going on lately. So you get a story.

A couple of months ago, I was cleaning out my room for some reason. I found a long-forgotten disposable camera that I had received on the night of my high school graduation. Developing it led to a trip down memory lane...

...which I will not recount.

But I did come across one gem. This picture is of a freshman-year Abbie taking a picture of herself in a mirror while holding a sign that says "Hello, David."
Apparently I had loaned her my camera and she snuck this picture in. The crazy thing about this whole deal is that she took this picture shortly after we first met, when she still thought I was a heartless Republican and I still thought she was a crazy hippie. And I didn't find it until after we had been dating for over a year. If I were a crazy hippie, I might be inclined to believe that Fate played a hand in this...

Victory!

I purchased World of Warcraft (WoW) many months ago. WoW is a fantasy-oriented online computer game that involves quests and magic and medieval weaponry, which is right up my alley. This game is one of the most fun computer games I have ever played. The world in which it is played is so vast that one could never really explore everything there is to do.The goal of WoW is...well...I guess there isn't much of a goal except to be good at it. There is no real end to the game, although there is a level cap. Each character levels up over time, and level 60 is the highest anyone can currently attain. This is only done by the really, really, really, really good players.Last night, my mage, Mageroth, reached level 60. I accomplished this feat in just under 336 hours of playing. And I can easily see myself playing another 336 hours with just this one character. If you want a fun activity to help you pass the time, get WoW. I'll even take you on some quests, if you want.

Easter weekend

Here are a couple highlights from my Easter weekend, since I am too tired to give you the full version.

My niece Emma and I jumped on the trampoline several times. She would say"wosie!" which means "I would like to play 'Ring Around the Rosie,' if you please." We would ring around a bit and then all fall down, and immediately, while she was still flopping around, she would go "More wosie!" That kid is bloody demanding, and I could barely handle it!

On Sunday during a candy hunt for my little cousins, my 18-year-old brother Peter ran around trying to find everything. At the end, he proudly proclaimed, "I could have totally dominated that hunt!" Nobody believed him.

I tried out the new ping-pong paddle grip that Eddie taught me, and I liked it pretty much. It basically makes me even more better than Peter than I was before. "More better"? Can I use that phrase legitimately?

Um...what else? I won second prize in a poker tournament. I also ate a lot of ham and turkey. The eating was more exciting than winning the $8 in poker.

Man, this is boring. I apologize. Good night.

tag!

I have lately noticed an unfortunate development: my keys jingle when I walk much more than they should. I think they make more noise than the keys of even the most powerful janitor, and this likely has the effect of decreasing my stealth while walking around. The only reasonable solution for this problem is to make or buy a completely soundproof bag to hold my keys when they aren't being used. If you have one or want to knit one and give it to me, I will use my subsequent increased stealth not to attack you.

Sarah hit me with this tag, so I guess I'll fill it out.
Six weird qualities or habits I have:
1. I want a soundproof bag to hold my keys.
2. I can't resist walking on the curb next to a sidewalk or street whenever one is available.
3. I say things like "up with what I put," all in the name of proper grammar.
4. Sometimes I wish that people would break into song and dance as if my life were a musical.
5. I think that canes and suspenders need to become mainstream accessories because they are so cool.
6. I always do my best not to accelerate up hills while driving so I won't waste gas.
7. My sister has worms living in her basement.

I am tagging the following people, and they had best comply!
Chick in the Czech
I Don't Suffer Fools
Life on the Edge
Watermeters

hello again

So I haven't updated in awhile. I promise I will remedy that situation in the near future. I also promise that that future won't take place either today or tomorrow, because I am at home and am busy. Deal with it, please.

In which stealth is utilized

Sometime during the next several weeks, Kirksville is having bulky trash pickup. I don't know exactly when this is taking place, but it's gonna be HUGE when it does happen. People around town have been preparing for weeks by setting all their junk out on the streets. This is especially cool when refuse blows into the streets during the middle of a storm and I get to test my reaction speed and driving control by dodging it all.

Today, my friend Amy discovered an interesting piece of garbage: a table/counter/bar/cupboard, just lying on the side of the road. Despite the fact that this is discarded rubbish, she declared that my roommates and I need it for our house. So just now, we all piled into a truck and snuck up to the house that threw this treasure away. After carefully loading it, with utmost sneakiness, we were just about to make our clean getaway when the owner drove up and accosted us. Fortunately, we were able to sweet talk our way out of the jam: "But it's not yours anymore; you threw it away!"

Now, what in the world are we supposed to do with this thing?

Hanging out with Benedict

This will hopefully conclude my Eurotrip posts since I have been back in the country for almost three weeks and still haven't finished them. Abbie covered some of this already, but that is irrelevant.

Our first task upon arriving in Rome was to find the hostel. Abbie is so adept with public transportation in Prague that we were pretty confident that we could pull this off. Unfortunately, the Italians run some hard-to-use buses. After riding a crowded train and subway for about an hour, we boarded this bus that sounded like it was about to explode any second. Some guy on the bus somehow knew exactly which hostel was our destination, so he starts giving me directions in difficult-to-understand English. I thought I heard something about 3 stops and a bridge and some other rambling before he got off the bus.

In about three stops we alight from the bus, looking around for the highway crossover that our directions mention which also happens to be nowhere in sight. Undaunted, we forge ahead on foot. Daunted, we noticed that the sidewalk ended in about 20 feet. Oh, did I mention it was pouring rain? This is the time that I discovered that Italy is not the most beautiful country while you are edging down the highway in the pouring rain with cars zipping by two feet away and suitcase wheels that get caught in potholes. We finally found the place before we turned in to roadkill or ended our relationship out of crippling frustration.

The next day, we braved the buses again to visit the Vatican. The five block long line was totally worth it for we got to become secret service agents. This was a little intense because, in the course of 20 minutes, we foiled three assassination attempts and helped an old lady cross the street. When we finally got inside, the artwork was not bad, I suppose. I mean, I have a better looking painting than this in my very own room, but I guess that Michelangelo fellow wasn't too bad.We strolled through the museums and chapels there for a few hours and got lost looking for the Sistine Chapel. At the end of our time here was the fateful Breaking of the Camera, about which you can read here.

We then saw the Basilica, which was pretty awesome. The best part about this place was the guards all walking around. They looked pretty fierce.

After this, a little walking around the city seemed to be in order, so that's what we did. All of the walking was pretty exhausting, so we stopped a couple of times for some footrubs.
Well, I didn't finish all the Rome stuff as I had intended. I should probably hire somebody who can churn out these posts more quickly than me. Anybody interested? I will pay you in high fives.

In which I am sleepy

What's up, readers? I was planning to regale you with my tale of international espionage and adventure in rome-antic Italy, but I have decided against it. I left the house this morning at 8:40 a.m., and I finally returned 30 minutes ago, at 1:15 a.m. I think that sleep would be in my best interest right now. Perhaps tomorrow will be the day.

Phenomenon

During the wee hours of yesterday morning, something crazy happened. At two minutes and three seconds past one a.m., the time read 01:02:03 04/05/06. If you think that this is a sign of the end of the world, you are obviously wrong. And if you missed it, don't worry. You can see it again in a hundred years or so.

Tonight I played kickball with Phi Sigma Pi folks. I learned a few things from this experience.
1) I am not in shape. My huffing and puffing started before I made it even to first base. I used to be able to run a mile in 4:48. Tonight I was able to muster an around-the-bases time of roughly 7:23. This is a bad start for my marathon training this summer.
2) Shoes are sometimes useful, and sometimes not. Times when they're not useful: when one is kicking a kickball and the shoes are tied very loosely. This can cause one's shoe to fly off the foot and travel farther than the ball before hitting somebody in the head. Fortunately, this caused enough of a distraction that I was safe even after 7:23 of running to first base.
Times when shoes are useful: when one is kicking a kickball with painful ingrown toenails and when one is kicking a thorn-encrusted branch that is cleverly hiding in the shadows.
3) Climbing trees makes for good times.

I think that this post needs some spice, so here you go.I'm getting pretty hungry right now, so I'm going to bed before I eat all the food in the house.

accolades

Thank you, Laura Runge and Amy Wessel, for so often providing wonderful photography. You ladies are pretty rockin'.

In which much cutting is done

Yesterday was pretty jam-packed with non-stop excitement. First, I directed runners at a 5K race. I really love going to races. Even though I wasn't competing and I haven't run competitively in years, my stomach still got a little clench of nervousness when the race started.

After that, I chilled a little bit, then went to work cleaning out the yard of some old folks in Kirksville. This was sort of a disaster since there was so much to do and insufficient equipment.

But after that is when the real action started. Take a look at this picture.
Apart from thinking, "Hey, that guy looks pretty darn friendly," you are probably thinking, "Hey, that guy's hair looks pretty darn like an unruly shrubbery." This clearly problematic hairiness met its match yesterday in my friend Amy.

A little background on Amy's haircutting experience: she has none. So why would I let this girl attack my head with dozens of whirring blades? 1) It was free. 2) Amy wanted the experience. 3) Clearly, any sort of haircut would be an improvement upon the shrubbery.

Here is Amy weilding the hair clippers with her apparently naturally steady, semi-precise hands.
This haircut was quite an ordeal. No fewer than six people were involved, either with cutting, receiving the cut, or critiquing. But after about 45 minutes, this is how it looked. Not too bad, I have to say. Luckily, I had a more fortunate outcome than my good friend Calvin.

As if this weren't enough coolness for one day, there's more coming. Immediately following the haircut, my good friend Scottie and I went to a local table tennis club for what turned out to be a pretty intense training session.

Scott and I were the only people there other than the coach, Eddie. He really seemed to know his table tennis, since he talked of little else. And apparently, I don't know my table tennis, since he corrected my methods just about non-stop while Scott was practically ignored. (Maybe Eddie was enthralled by my new hairdo) My grip, my stance, my arm extensions, my paddle all need modification, it seems. I appreciated the input from someone who is obviously knowledgable, but I felt bad every time he would tell me something and I couldn't implement it correctly. I'll keep you updated if I go back again.

There was one last event of note, and it involved a lot of deviousness. My roommates and I threw a surprise birthday party for Amy, the haircutting lady. This was no easy feat because Amy is naturally suspicious, but with the help of her roommate, Julie, we were able to pull it off. We didn't have a camera at the actual moment of surprise, so I threw together this quick sketch of how she looked.

Now 2:30 a.m. is nigh, and since I think you have been sufficiently flabbergasted by the unending hijinks with which I live, I am going to bed. Fare well.