Moderately Injured

Well, I hate my right hand.

The best thing about hating my right hand, and also, the worst thing, is how much it makes me think about my left hand. My left arm, even over two years later, is still stronger than my right. When I broke my collar bone, my right arm was dead weight for more than six weeks, and when my left arm decided to pick up the slack, it never stopped. However, it's still worthless for things like, writing, eating utensils. Things it's great for in a pinch consist of shifting in a manual car, and, well, that's about all that comes to mind.

I suppose a recount of the accident is in order. And for that to happen, we have to go further back in time, to the invention of Awesome Ball.

It describes itself. It is, without a doubt, the most awesome game ever. Why, well, there are no real rules to Awesome Ball, the major reason besides lack of coordination and terrible team spirit that I never excelled or really did sports as a kid. Now mind you, there were some that that were fun, when they were made up or not played with the standard set of rules, but those are a story for another day.

Recently, my mother got one of those big exercise balls, and I amused myself with that pretty easily. Ben was over at some point, and he seemed to think he could pop one. It very quickly progressed into a challenge, one that will likely never be fulfilled. Of course, their were constraints like he couldn't use tools, and there would have to be a time limit. So, not wanting to destroy my mother's, I bought my own. This was the large, or 75 cm gray exercise ball, made by Prospirit, which ran me only a little over $10, so I wasn't going to be too out should Ben succeed.

Luckily, we planned on documenting the challenge, so when I first busted it out, it was dark, so we of course would not engage in the challenge in such poor lighting. SO instead, we proceeded to play some sort of soccer, rugby, volleyball combination game with the giant ball. And the fun was nigh infinite. We established that there would be no rules, which was later broken by the addition of the one and only rule, that you could invent any rule you wanted during play, provided it only lasted for thirty seconds.

Eventually, we took Awesome to the masses, and by masses, I mean our friends from high school. The problem I have discovered is that the more of us there are, the lazier we get. It was most fun with two people, and while it seemed like it would improve with more participants, it got worse and worse the more people we involved. Until I, in a mood inspired by the lack of energy, I just ran up to the ball after having to retrieve it for like the sixty third time, and jumped on it. It of course, being a sphere, rolled out from under me, throwing me off so I would land on my face. Stunned by this turn of events, I didn't get my hands out in time to fully break my fall, and instead, nearly broke both my hand and ribs as I landed on them.

Neither are, fortunately, just badly bruised. The whole incident did remind me that I do enjoy being insured, and now, today, after finishing all of my classes for this semester, and more than likely failing PreCalc, I am considering signing up for classes again in the fall. It's sad, because my reasons for going to school keep getting worse and worse. It went from feeling like I was supposed to, and when that didn't motivate me, I did it to get out of high school early. Then, after dropping out, incidentally because of a broken bone, to feeling like it was the responsible thing to do, when it was not at all, to doing it because everyone else thought I should, to now, for insurance.

Still though, despite the injuries, the park was great. It was good to see some of my old friends. Rusty, in particular, is always amusing, and it never gets old how dumb this kid can be. I had locked my keys in the car with the windows down just enough to reach my arm in and unlock it. Rusty of course spied that I had fruit snacks, so he of course sticks his arm in to try and reach the box. It didn't seem physically possible, but every time we thought he had wedged his arm in as far as he could, he'd jam it in a little further. You could see the red marks on his arm that marked his progress, and the distance between the first time he got stuck and where he finally reached the box was probably close to two inches.

He finally managed to grab the edge of the box, but the cardboard ripped, and the box fell over on his side. He pulled out, defeated, and then Ben pointed out that he could have easily unlocked the door from his position. He earned those fruit snacks.

I suppose I can't make fun of him to much. When we left, I was worried I would have to have someone come pick me up, because I couldn't drive myself home, and the only other person driving stick, Ben, had to take his own car. But, Rusty and I form an unstoppable team, and he operated the shifter while I worked the clutch, and despite our poor levels of communication, there were zero accidents on the way home.

But, as I stated previously, I hate my right hand, and my left hand is not much better, and I'm sick of typing, so that's all I've got for now. I promise to do something soon, but for now, I'm kind of laid up.

Funny The Way It Is

I heard the new Dave Matthews Band song on the radio, and immediately had to come home and download it for Jo. She loves her Dave. Pretty good song though; the new album comes out June 2.

Still though, Dave Matthews reminds of traveling with Jo. She's pretty belligerent when she doesn't get her way, and for awhile even Giz wouldn't give me back the CD changer, and of course, the three CDs in there at the time were all DMB, and Pittsburgh radio is pretty terrible, so I rocked mostly Dave for a couple of months. It got old, but I can imagine worse things.

That 200 miles of road between my old apartment and my parents' house holds a lot of memories for me. Asides from when I'm running, I do a lot of great thinking while driving. Especially once I'm on the highway, set the cruise control, and just sit back and dream, focusing only enough attention on the world around me to keep me alive.

There was meant to be a point to this blost, but it's gone. For someone who only wants to tell his stories to the world, I'm rather selfish with them. I think I had started writing this because the Dave Matthews song had me thinking about Graham again, and I'd really love to tell his story. I've told a few people a little bit, but I need get over this possessiveness. It's not like it's mine.

So, I'm going to start by giving a gist of the core stories. These are the ones that I've seen play out thousands of times, the ones that are the most important to me, and to each other. I'm going to do it over the blog, onto the internet, for my whopping eight followers, and whoever else happens upon my blog. It ain't much, but it's a start.

Of course, having decided this, I need a run to clear my thoughts, so I will postpone this, but I will hopefully start tonight after my run, provided I don't go straight to bed. I'm tired.

Until then, look forward to it in anticipation.

We Got "This" Much Snow

It's hard to say just how much we had, here in Mount Airy. I actually didn't think it had snowed this morning, as when I woke up and looked out the window, the roof outside my window was clear. further inspection revealed that it had indeed snowed, but it did not appear to be snowing, so I got up and got ready for work.

It had started snowing again, but unfortunately, I didn't decide that trying to go in was a bad idea until I was already about halfway there, and turning back would have been just as foolish as going on. And there was no way I was going to pull over and sleep it out on the side of the road. I couldn't even tell where the side of the road was, most of the time.

Anyways, Giz and I made it to Target, and only five minutes late. And I beat everyone else with their SUV's and their four wheel drive enabled vehicles. 'Cause Gizmo and I are that awesome!

As I was saying, I have no idea how much snow we actually got, reason being some ferocious wind. It would have been an opportune time for kiting, and the gloves wouldn't have been a huge hindrance due to Ben's and my new innovation in kite flying (more on that at a later date). But I didn't, because glove accessible or not, I have discovered that my parent's closet eats left handed gloves. So I rocked a right glove, and a left mitten. Admittedly, the mitten was warmer, but the left handed glove eating closet might also be a right handed mitten eating closet. I'll need to see it eat at least two more mittens to be sure.



So I trekked out into the snow, with my father, who I believe had been wanting someone to go out with him all afternoon. He wouldn't say it, but he wouldn't let me sleep. I guess, until I stop being lazy and find my own place, this is something I'm going to have to live with. The folks, my father in particular, have a problem with letting me sleep. Last night, my mother woke me up to inform me that it was supposed to snow, saying she didn't want me to not notice in the morning. I'm pretty sure I would have noticed when I went out to my car if by some reason I forgot over the night and didn't notice when I woke up. Then, my father, who has always had a problem with me sleeping, woke me from my nap at least three times today. I can't remeber why he woke me up the first time, but the second time, he asked me if I wanted a french fry. Just one. He told me later he would have let me have more than one. I of course, was unpleased at being woken up from my nap, something I love, to see if I wanted food, something I don't particularly enjoy, so much in fact that I will sleep to conserve energy rather than refueling my body by eating. Then later, he woke me again, to let me know that he had eaten the offered french fry. By then, I realized that he wasn't going to let me sleep, so I had to get up, and take some aspirin (I was sleeping off a headache, B T Dub).

Now, finally, the original point of this Blost, which I guess was moot from the start, seeing as I lack the pictures of what I wanted to show everyone. Hopefully, it isn't supposed to get that warm, and I should be able to go out and get some pictures, but usually, snow that's been chillaxing around for a couple of days isn't as beautiful as a freshly fallen snow. It's quite nice, what with all the drifting. I was walking with my father around the dam of the drainage pond, where the grass was visible, and if I walked two feet to the left or right, I was standing in a two feet deep drift.

God, I wish my camera worked.

He Only Eats Guitars

I may have a new favorite song.

Rapture - Blondie

I thought about putting Tom Cochrane's "Life Is A Highway", which I totally heard (what road trip isn't complete without it?), but I heard this song too, which I had, for some inconceivable reason, forgotten. I mean, listen to this song. "And out comes a man from Mars, and you try to run but he's got a gun, he shoots you dead and eats your head, and then you in the man from Mars". Thank you Blondie. Thank you so much. The only unfortunate thing was that I couldn't sing along. The list of people whose presence I will sing in, Kellie, Mike, H, Jo, Gizmo, and Rusty, does not include my mothers van, which I was, most regrettably, driving.

In order for my trip to Pittsburgh to happen, unfortunately, I had to leave Gizmo behind for the second time in a week and borrow my mother's van. This injustice was not even remotely offset by the fact that I also had my mother's credit card to pay for gas.

A few things about my mother's van. I had to drive it last week to pick Kellie and the wee ones up in Breezewood. And, for those of you don't know, I personify my car to the fullest extent of the word. Naming is only the beginning. And really, for as much driving as I do, and when I can't take Jo, it really makes the trip more enjoyable if I have someone to talk to. And Gizmo is perfect for this. And when I got behind the wheel of my mother's Toyota Sienna, I got absolutely nothing. I don't know if her car is shy, rude, or just mute, but seriously, considering I only made it half way to Pittsburgh and then had to turn around and come back to MD, it was easily the worst solo road trip of my life.

And then, on Thursday, I had to once again leave Giz behind and hit the road in the Sienna (It doesn't even have a name! It doesn't even have a gender!!!) Going to Pittsburgh wasn't too bad, because Kell and Jabigail were in the car, and I passed out for the second half anyways. But then, it was all me and the van driving around Pittsburgh.

For starters, I really miss driving in Pittsburgh. For no explicable reason, I yearn for the god awful roads, the six + way intersections, the over-enthusiastic crossing guard on Versailles (the L's are silent, it's French!) where I used to live, and most of all, I miss the the billboards. Frederick is not a billboard city.

This one (not the same exact billboard, but the same ad) is my personal favorite. It brightened my day on the way home from work every day.

And I also witnessed something that made me regret even more not having Giz with me. Something we've always wanted to see, but for some reason have never witnessed. it was getting to the point where I believed there might be some magic to it, when, in the middle of the day, I witnessed the spectacle that is the changing of the gas prices.

Never, in all my time driving, and at all hours of the day, have I seen this happen. But two days ago I saw it with my own eyes, a man in a cherry picker truck changing the prices at the Sunoco. Don't ask me why he was changing them at four in the afternoon; that seems like an awful business practice, but I saw it, and I had to share that moment with not my faithful car Gizmo, but a minivan with zero personality. It was wasted on that vehicle.

So that brings me to the return trip. For starters, I was getting sick, and driving while sick is never fun. As I stated earlier, I wasn't paying for gas, so there was little temptation to drive 55 mph to get the best possible fuel economy. I was in a hurry, so I set the cruise control to 72 and sat back and took advantage of my two other techniques for fuel efficient driving.

I would have driven Ben nuts. While I don't condone my father's driving in the middle of the road, I am a fan of cutting corners, if and only if it doesn't involve in driving in opposing traffics' lanes, regardless of if there are oncoming vehicles or not. My father has no qualms with this and it bugs the bejeebus out of me. But most of my trip is through whindy mountain roads, where I shaved .8 miles off of my 113 mile trip on the Penna Turn Pike alone simply by cutting corners. And for those of you who think .8 miles is no big deal, that's about $.07 worth of gas(be impressed with me, I did the math). And of course, when your constantly switching lanes, signaling becomes a chore which I have long since given up on. Now, If I was passing or pulling in front of someone, I would signal, but most of the time I could see not a soul in front of me nor in the rear views.

And then there's drafting, an even more efficent way to drive, albeit more dangerous. I think that rather than "If you can't see my mirrors, I can't see you" as the trucker motto for driving too close to them, it should be "If you can't see my mirrors, your risking life and limb to save the earth and money. You are my hero". These "No Zones" as we were taught in Driver's Ed, are "No Worry Zones", because all your worries melt away when you're being that fuel efficient. Mythbusters did a special on this, and while I can't remeber the numbers, you can get quite a bit more fuel economy by drafting, even at a relatively safe distance. The only way you could be getting better gas mileage is if you and your passenger were gutsy enough to climb out onto the hood of your car while driving a few feet behind a truck and attach yourself to that sucker. You could just pop the car in neutral and turn the car off, getting yourself an average of an infinite number of miles to the gallon. Be sure to make sure that you're on a long enough to trip to offset the heavy fines that come from this behavior.