I swear by the moon and the stars and the sky that I will post tomorrow.
I have one in the works, but you know me as the guy who takes days and weeks to produce little content.
And in the end, you get no quality or content.
This is my promise to you.
here is something to keep you busy:
Romeo & Juliet by Dire Straits
A lovestruck romeo sings a streetsus serenade
Laying everybody low with me a lovesong that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight steps out of the shade
Says something like you and me babe how about it ?
Juliet says hey its romeo you nearly gimme a heart attack
Hes underneath the window shes singing hey la my boyfriends back
You shouldnt come around here singing up at people like that
Anyway what you gonna do about it ?
Juliet the dice were loaded from the start
And I bet and you exploded in my heart
And I forget the movie song
When you wanna realise it was just that the time was wrong juliet ?
Come up on differents streets they both were streets of shame
Both dirty both mean yes and the dream was just the same
And I dreamed your dream for you and your dream is real
How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals ?
Where you can fall for chains of silver you can fall for chains of gold
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold
You promised me everything you promised me think and thin
Now you just says oh romeo yeah you know I used to have a scene with him
Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above Ill love you till I die
Theres a place for us you know the movie song
When you gonna realise it was just that the time was wrong juliet ?
I cant do the talk like they talk on tv
And I cant do a love song like the way its meant to be
I cant do everything but Id do anything for you
I cant do anything except be in love with you
And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be
All do is keep the beat and bad company
All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme
Julie Id do the stars with you any time
Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above Ill love you till I die
Theres a place for us you know the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong Juliet ?
A lovestruck romeo sings a streetsus serenade
Laying everybody low with me a lovesong that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight steps out of the shade
Says something like you and me babe how about it ?
I was just thinking about that song last night.
Till then, Stay Awesome.
Andy
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
As promised.
August has come and gone.
It seems like I was just saying that about July and talking about how it was my birthday.
Now, as it so happens, I am just shy of two months into my 31st year.
Things are going about on par with everything thus far.
I love it when I rhyme without intention.
There is an edit to make in my super sad and awful posting from a couple weeks ago:
I wrote that I 'hated it here'
Well, In little bracket-like-parenthesis-do jobs, I wrote 'Taps on chest'
It was a metaphor for where I am inside.
The head is clear enough, but I found myself growing tired of the usual parenthesis
THIS JUST IN AS OF 9/17/2009
MUCH More editing and time passes.
The nights keep getting colder and lonelier in the House of Danger.
My name will remain the same for a long time due to the loss of what was a new beginning to a blossoming relationship. Had i gotten married, it would have become
Andrew (David) Danger King-Brynildson. I still do like that 'Danger King' part...
The story is sad but true:
In which, Amanda and I were together for what seemed like moments. Trying again to have what was a trying long distance relationship while I was in Minneapolis, and she was here in Indy.
That 'getting back together' was one of the main reasons why the updates were so few and far between. I was happy we were back on a 'together' track, but as it turns out, it wasn't meant to last for very long.
Lots of staring off into space with glazed over eyes and a hollow pit in what was once my inside area.
You know the drill: Food tastes bad, but is still there to comfort you because it wants you as much as you want it (food is love/eat your emotions in the form of sugary snacky things). Music only has lyrics aimed at the lonely broken hearted. Sunsets are avoided because what's the point in looking at them alone? You watch laugh out loud comedies and when you actually do laugh out loud it feels weird because you think you should be crying instead. And then, of course, you do cry because you want this all to go away.
You go through all this for the Glory and the Power of love, but there isn't any Pat Morita to train you into a fighting machine.
If you caught that reference, I applaud you.
So I mope and I dwell and I drink and I sit stone faced in the company of friends because I am too sad to do much else. And then I lather, rinse, repeat.
You have been there, I am there now, we shall all go down together...
I will move on because I don't care much for thinking about something that in my mind was leading to an alter made of stones with groups of friends and family watching and waiting for the cake and the dancing.
That stuff will have to wait for someone else. Probably Bill and Jen, who tie the knot in October of next year. (Where I will STILL be the Officiant...What? Still you say? Was there any doubt? Read on, dear reader, read on)
I am lost right now. Not lost in the sense that I am on an Island filled with book clubs and Polar Bears (can you tell I only got to Season 2 of lost? Maybe a bit of season 3?)
I'm trying to find where I belong. What clan I should be wearing the tartan of.
What zip code to make people send all those letters that I need to receive, yet have no drive or follow through to send letters of my own out. Did that make sense? I'm lazy. It boils down to that. i should write a fucking letter sometime. jeez.
Moving. The tour must keep moving....
I was supposed to be here two months and some change.
It was a three hour tour as it were, and I had the tickets all set up for my triumphant return to the Twin Cities where I could safely be that guy who lives in him Mother's basement and thinks about what he did wrong in life to get him to that station.
Instead, I am a guest in a house of one of my best friends, her husband (who might as well be my Brother) and their Daughter who is the light of anyone's life just by looking at her and seeing her smile.
I do what I can around the house to help out. I turn off lights that they accidentally leave on, I do the dishes when everyone is asleep and I cobble shoes in the night so that they can have some bread with their soup. Seriously, does no one understand me but me? Is this thing even on?
At any rate, I am going through a mid life crisis a bit earlier than scheduled. I have very low self esteem in regards to every part of my life. Be it Job, relationships or body issues, I am in a dark and stormy place. The way I see it, I need a challenge. Something so terrifying to me that it kicks my ass in gear and I start moving forward in an upward direction.
I see myself as moving forward in a stay in the same rut kind direction. It needs to stop. I need to grow as a person. And as several other things.
There are things I want to do, and to do them (and I know it sounds stupid to some)I need to stay in Indy for a bit.
I am sure more on that later, as I need to explain more. Right now, I am at a loss.
My writing has slowed down to a trickle in the last few weeks, and it is troubling. But i still have the desire to do it, just not the drive. I need to pick up a six pack of motivation and change my heathen ways.
At least I kind of like typing.
My father gave me an old typewriter of his that he used for work years ago. He even had an extra box of ribbons, so the thing should last the rest of my life. it's one of those huge electric ones with the ball of letters instead of the arms that have one letter a piece.
It weighs about a hundred pounds.
I call it Beast. Sometimes I have found myself calling it Hank McCoy, but that is for another blog about being a nerd.
For all its glory, Beast will pale in comparison to the machine that awaits me in Minnesota. Lindsey and Roni got me an antique typewriter for my birthday. It needs new ribbon, but I am sure I can find somewhere that would have it. And it is about 100 years old. Excited for that is an understatement.
yep. loads of stuff. I have forgotten most of what I wanted to tell you. I have heard from a few people that they were worried about me because I sort of fell off the face of the planet.
Even my precious facebook has suffered my absence.
But I am back now, and ready to hold your hands as I help you up the mountain of life as we hike into tomorrow and other metaphors I am too lazy to write too much more just now.
Puppy update:
A while ago, I mentioned that we had found a puppy in the middle of the street.
She was left by some asshat in a huge hoopty with penis compensation rims.
he opened the passenger door. Pushed her out. Closed the door. Drove away.
We immediately fed and watered her.
I instantly fell in love with her, for she is a puppy.
And that night, we decided to adopt her forever and ever.
By 'that night' I mean after we had gone to The Metro, Josh Carson's favourite bar in Indianapolis, to sing karaoke.
We were a bit tipsy when we got home, and though I wanted to call her 'Vinz Clortho, Keymaster of Gozer' I was outvoted.
Since we had been singing total Eclipse of the Heart at the top of our lungs at the bar, Bonnie Tyler was the official name of the dog.
she is a Black lab/ German Shepherd mix.
Very friendly, and near perfect. All she needs is wings and fire breath. Those things would make the perfect puppy. Maybe a unicorn horn... But I digress.
Amanda added a middle name of 'Olivia' and since it was not rejected outright, it too has stuck. I secretly call her 'Starfire' in my head, though. Tell no one.
I assure you I will tell more later, as there is other stuff I want to talk about.
Tonight i am going out to try and develop some kind of social life outside of these sacred walls.
Wish me luck. I don't really like clubs.
Stay Awesome for me.
Andy
It seems like I was just saying that about July and talking about how it was my birthday.
Now, as it so happens, I am just shy of two months into my 31st year.
Things are going about on par with everything thus far.
I love it when I rhyme without intention.
There is an edit to make in my super sad and awful posting from a couple weeks ago:
I wrote that I 'hated it here'
Well, In little bracket-like-parenthesis-do jobs, I wrote 'Taps on chest'
It was a metaphor for where I am inside.
The head is clear enough, but I found myself growing tired of the usual parenthesis
THIS JUST IN AS OF 9/17/2009
MUCH More editing and time passes.
The nights keep getting colder and lonelier in the House of Danger.
My name will remain the same for a long time due to the loss of what was a new beginning to a blossoming relationship. Had i gotten married, it would have become
Andrew (David) Danger King-Brynildson. I still do like that 'Danger King' part...
The story is sad but true:
In which, Amanda and I were together for what seemed like moments. Trying again to have what was a trying long distance relationship while I was in Minneapolis, and she was here in Indy.
That 'getting back together' was one of the main reasons why the updates were so few and far between. I was happy we were back on a 'together' track, but as it turns out, it wasn't meant to last for very long.
Lots of staring off into space with glazed over eyes and a hollow pit in what was once my inside area.
You know the drill: Food tastes bad, but is still there to comfort you because it wants you as much as you want it (food is love/eat your emotions in the form of sugary snacky things). Music only has lyrics aimed at the lonely broken hearted. Sunsets are avoided because what's the point in looking at them alone? You watch laugh out loud comedies and when you actually do laugh out loud it feels weird because you think you should be crying instead. And then, of course, you do cry because you want this all to go away.
You go through all this for the Glory and the Power of love, but there isn't any Pat Morita to train you into a fighting machine.
If you caught that reference, I applaud you.
So I mope and I dwell and I drink and I sit stone faced in the company of friends because I am too sad to do much else. And then I lather, rinse, repeat.
You have been there, I am there now, we shall all go down together...
I will move on because I don't care much for thinking about something that in my mind was leading to an alter made of stones with groups of friends and family watching and waiting for the cake and the dancing.
That stuff will have to wait for someone else. Probably Bill and Jen, who tie the knot in October of next year. (Where I will STILL be the Officiant...What? Still you say? Was there any doubt? Read on, dear reader, read on)
I am lost right now. Not lost in the sense that I am on an Island filled with book clubs and Polar Bears (can you tell I only got to Season 2 of lost? Maybe a bit of season 3?)
I'm trying to find where I belong. What clan I should be wearing the tartan of.
What zip code to make people send all those letters that I need to receive, yet have no drive or follow through to send letters of my own out. Did that make sense? I'm lazy. It boils down to that. i should write a fucking letter sometime. jeez.
Moving. The tour must keep moving....
I was supposed to be here two months and some change.
It was a three hour tour as it were, and I had the tickets all set up for my triumphant return to the Twin Cities where I could safely be that guy who lives in him Mother's basement and thinks about what he did wrong in life to get him to that station.
Instead, I am a guest in a house of one of my best friends, her husband (who might as well be my Brother) and their Daughter who is the light of anyone's life just by looking at her and seeing her smile.
I do what I can around the house to help out. I turn off lights that they accidentally leave on, I do the dishes when everyone is asleep and I cobble shoes in the night so that they can have some bread with their soup. Seriously, does no one understand me but me? Is this thing even on?
At any rate, I am going through a mid life crisis a bit earlier than scheduled. I have very low self esteem in regards to every part of my life. Be it Job, relationships or body issues, I am in a dark and stormy place. The way I see it, I need a challenge. Something so terrifying to me that it kicks my ass in gear and I start moving forward in an upward direction.
I see myself as moving forward in a stay in the same rut kind direction. It needs to stop. I need to grow as a person. And as several other things.
There are things I want to do, and to do them (and I know it sounds stupid to some)I need to stay in Indy for a bit.
I am sure more on that later, as I need to explain more. Right now, I am at a loss.
My writing has slowed down to a trickle in the last few weeks, and it is troubling. But i still have the desire to do it, just not the drive. I need to pick up a six pack of motivation and change my heathen ways.
At least I kind of like typing.
My father gave me an old typewriter of his that he used for work years ago. He even had an extra box of ribbons, so the thing should last the rest of my life. it's one of those huge electric ones with the ball of letters instead of the arms that have one letter a piece.
It weighs about a hundred pounds.
I call it Beast. Sometimes I have found myself calling it Hank McCoy, but that is for another blog about being a nerd.
For all its glory, Beast will pale in comparison to the machine that awaits me in Minnesota. Lindsey and Roni got me an antique typewriter for my birthday. It needs new ribbon, but I am sure I can find somewhere that would have it. And it is about 100 years old. Excited for that is an understatement.
yep. loads of stuff. I have forgotten most of what I wanted to tell you. I have heard from a few people that they were worried about me because I sort of fell off the face of the planet.
Even my precious facebook has suffered my absence.
But I am back now, and ready to hold your hands as I help you up the mountain of life as we hike into tomorrow and other metaphors I am too lazy to write too much more just now.
Puppy update:
A while ago, I mentioned that we had found a puppy in the middle of the street.
She was left by some asshat in a huge hoopty with penis compensation rims.
he opened the passenger door. Pushed her out. Closed the door. Drove away.
We immediately fed and watered her.
I instantly fell in love with her, for she is a puppy.
And that night, we decided to adopt her forever and ever.
By 'that night' I mean after we had gone to The Metro, Josh Carson's favourite bar in Indianapolis, to sing karaoke.
We were a bit tipsy when we got home, and though I wanted to call her 'Vinz Clortho, Keymaster of Gozer' I was outvoted.
Since we had been singing total Eclipse of the Heart at the top of our lungs at the bar, Bonnie Tyler was the official name of the dog.
she is a Black lab/ German Shepherd mix.
Very friendly, and near perfect. All she needs is wings and fire breath. Those things would make the perfect puppy. Maybe a unicorn horn... But I digress.
Amanda added a middle name of 'Olivia' and since it was not rejected outright, it too has stuck. I secretly call her 'Starfire' in my head, though. Tell no one.
I assure you I will tell more later, as there is other stuff I want to talk about.
Tonight i am going out to try and develop some kind of social life outside of these sacred walls.
Wish me luck. I don't really like clubs.
Stay Awesome for me.
Andy
Friday, September 4, 2009
fail
no home
no job
no money
no love
no kids
no family
Is this what it's like to hit rock bottom? to realize fully and wholly that every decision you have made thus far has resulted in failure?
This is not 'staying awesome'
this is something much much darker. staying awesome didnt mean anything anyway.
there was a post before this, but it doesn't matter anymore.
I hate it here now..
I am in Carmel for three and a half days.
so begins my vision quest.
I was raised better than this.
no job
no money
no love
no kids
no family
Is this what it's like to hit rock bottom? to realize fully and wholly that every decision you have made thus far has resulted in failure?
This is not 'staying awesome'
this is something much much darker. staying awesome didnt mean anything anyway.
there was a post before this, but it doesn't matter anymore.
I hate it here now.
I am in Carmel for three and a half days.
so begins my vision quest.
I was raised better than this.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
No Time. No Time
Very short, no time to dawdle.
Helped with gardening all day.
Some asshole stopped in front of our house, opened up his passenger side door, leaned over and closed it, then drove away.
We thought that the door was just opened a bit and he stopped to close it.
Nope.
After he drove away, there was a little puppy in the middle of the road.
It is about 8 or 9 weeks old and a girl puppy.
She is loving and wonderful.
If anyone can give her a good home in the surrounding area, we will bring her to you.
I have named her 'StarFire'
Tonight we are going to the Metro to sing karaoke.
It is a gay bar, and the last time I was there, they were still asking about Josh Carson.
I will try and write more about my adventurous day later.
Stay Awesome.
Andy
Helped with gardening all day.
Some asshole stopped in front of our house, opened up his passenger side door, leaned over and closed it, then drove away.
We thought that the door was just opened a bit and he stopped to close it.
Nope.
After he drove away, there was a little puppy in the middle of the road.
It is about 8 or 9 weeks old and a girl puppy.
She is loving and wonderful.
If anyone can give her a good home in the surrounding area, we will bring her to you.
I have named her 'StarFire'
Tonight we are going to the Metro to sing karaoke.
It is a gay bar, and the last time I was there, they were still asking about Josh Carson.
I will try and write more about my adventurous day later.
Stay Awesome.
Andy
Friday, July 24, 2009
and then there was rock.
As more things distract me from doing what is on my list of To-Do's, my silly blogs about silly things that mean nothing to you tend to take almost 48 hours to complete. you would think I could add some poignant things in here, but what would I be if 'Rambling Lunatic' wasn't something that described me?
Anyway, here's a thing:
Last night I embarked on a sentimental journey through the forgotten realms of Hell.
These are the levels that Dante thought about, then realized that they were much too tricky to describe.
The parts where mullets go to die.
And yet, they are embraced there too.
I entered a paradox of wondrous eye narcotics tonight.
It was good, yet the most evil I have encountered in my many years as Secretary of Inhuman Affairs. (not an actual position)
Tonight I went to a concert.
Not just any concert.
It was a family reunion of Cheap Trick, Poison and Def Leppard.
To say that it was epic would be saying the Titanic was a nice little yacht or that Seline Dion is pretty good at the banjo. (let your mind go with these things)
Here is my account of an evening that happened only 14 hours ago. No holds barred.
I just got home to Lisa and Jame's house. (From my Step Mom's place in Carmel, where I slept in the bed I slept in when Jr. High was a place to meet people and learn how to dismantle a gun.)I was staying there for a couple of days to help out my Dad. He has a bionic knee, and doesn't move very fast with heavy boxes of books.
Please enjoy.
Father and I enjoyed a nice afternoon of sifting through things.
He gave me many things, and bits of wonderful memories that I am surprised he parted with.
The last few days weren't as bad as I thought they would be. I still wish things were different, but at least both of them (Dad and Judy) know that I love them very dearly. Talking to Amanda helped calm my nerves, as I was about to lose my shit just before I spoke with her. Her timing is uncanny. Like an X-Man.
Lisa picked me up and we were on our way to Jason's (Fingers) house in Noblesville.
There, we ate and started to drink ourselves into a merry stupor.
Stephanie, his wife, and Sophia, their daughter were there to eat with us but did not partake in the rum that was flowing like an avalanche coming down a mountain.
As the time wore on, we were discussing the finer points of how to sneak booze into the concert venue.
I had brought a couple of stowaway airplane bottles that I thought were small enough to hide in a clever place. Sadly, my clever places meant my pants.
I managed to put two bottles in my 'down there' region. I did put them in a ziplock baggie so others might partake should they have become inclined. (and not discouraged by their proximity to my Man parts.
We knew we needed to bring the Rum, but had no way of getting the half gallon jug past security.
being the industrious and aspiring WC Fields that I am, I filled some baggies with the amber coloured Pirate kool aid and then double bagged them for quality assurance.
Lisa stuffed Andrea's bra with about a half bottle's worth of rum. I also filled two baggies and rolled them up in my sleeves, since I am prone to wearing a button down long sleeved shirt even on the hottest of days. But never a short sleeved shirt. never. Ever. It is my way...
So we are now walking to Deer Creek music Center that is now called 'Cell Phone Company that bought it and changed the name so everyone who come to this venue will suddenly switch carriers'
I still call it Deer Creek. I graduated high school there, and am a bit nostalgic. just a bit.
The place to rock is about a mile from Finger's house.
We went from fully developed housing areas that all were a shade of brown to areas that were about to become housing in varying shades of brown. Then we hit corn, and then we walked through the VIP gate of Deer Creek.
It was really just the area where all the Limos that people rented were parked, but we felt like VIP's anyway. First stop, of course was the port o pottie.
Since we walked in lieu of getting a ride from Stephanie, we missed Poison play that one song they play. (Just kidding)
Cheap Trick was breaking the hearts of girls who were not alive when Cheap Trick was a new band. And the amount of people there was amazing. I didn't think it would have been us and a couple other people, but Damn! It seems that these three bands found their target demographic with everyone anywhere ever. There must have been over five thousand, and I think I'm being stingy. We went to the police Cop who was checking ID's and stamping hands with the simple word 'Alcohol'
Fingers went first, and i think Lisa and Andrea got stamped too. i'm a little fuzzy on that.
When I met the PoliceCop, I pulled out my wallet (half in the bag already)and dropped my ticket. Fingers grabbed it for me. Thanks, Fingy. Then I struggled to get my ID out of the plastic thing in the wallet.
Then, as he was checking his memory about whether Minnesota is a real place of not, the two airplane bottles of booze fell out of my underwear. I guess they finally had enough, and now the gig was up. I didn't even get to see my one armed Def Leppard Drummer.
I guess Fingers, Lisa and Andrea saw the bottles fall out and were rolling on the ground laughing at me.
The PoliceCop didn't miss a beat (no pun intended) and said "If you drop one more thing, I'm not going to stamp you."
I told him I wouldn't. And he believed me. The fool!
Of course there was a tent set up where Camel was handing out free stuff, and as I am a sucker for free crap, we all went in and got free packs of smokes and some tins of Snus, that will never be used except for projectiles to hurl at the squirrels who are ruining Lisa and the girls garden at home.
Fingers decided it would be a good idea to spend $12 on a whiskey/coke in a plastic cup.
That's right.
Twelve American Dollars.
Six Dollars is too much, and twelve is 100% more than that.
I did however, think it was needed to pay $5 for a 20 ounce bottle of coke.
We needed something to put the rum in, didn't we?
And put the Rum in we did.
We found a spot to sit/stand in the nosebleed section of the lawn and everyone emptied our pockets/bras/ sleeves of booze that were now at body temp for easier absorption into our systems.
Then we listened to Def leppard sing about being cool and British. Very British. Even I wanted to help God save the Queen after it was done.
Cut to after the encore, and the thousands of people filed out. We just stayed on the blanket and dreamed about tomorrow or something.
When we did leave, I might have been a bit tipsy.
Just a touch.
I think my blood alcohol level was holding steady at around 56% Of my total blood.
No big deal.
Walking through an Indiana Summer night after being bombarded with rock music and booze is something I want all of you to experience.
Doing it with friends is a must, as they will keep you safe no matter what.
On second thought, no. No they won't.
I thought it would be a good idea to have a Gentleman's wager and claim that I didn't think that anyone would give me 5$ to go into the adjacent cornfield.
Lisa told me she would do just that.
And so I bolted into the corn that was just a bit shorter than I am.
Lisa decided she wanted to get eaten by a monster too, so she followed me directly.
Fingers and Andrea were watching us, walking along the drive, and listening to Lisa and I giggle at our cleverness. All the while, the top of my head was popping up over the stalks of corn. When we popped out along the road that would lead us back to Finger's house, I challenged a big sign to topple down. If that happened, I would have been the winner of an incredible prize: Another $5 from Lisa.
Sadly, the sign was very sturdy, though the passing cars were very supportive of me getting my prize money. They honked and cheered me on. to no avail...
Being bested by a sign that tells you than new homes started in the low 160's is humbling to a normal man.
Good thing I was enjoying the short term memory of a goldfish at that time.
As we strolled(stumbled) back through neighborhoods where the houses all look the same, I tripped and skinned my leg, just below the knee.
These things happen, and chicks dig scars.
By the time we got back to Finger's house, the girls were sober enough to drive home and for some reason we had the obligatory solar lights that I am so prone to acquire during nights of drunken revelry.
Lisa got me back to My step Mom's house and I slept the sleep of the just and true until my Dad got me up to load things into his storage space.
Now I am back in Irvington, and it is Annabeth's First Birthday.
I'm sure we will sit around watching her play with plastic cups and be completely oblivious to the fact that today is her most important day of the year.
But we will all be together, and that's all that matters.
In other news, I was told that Bill and Jen will be getting married next year, to which I exclaimed 'Whoo hoo' upon hearing.
Bill also asked on behalf of them both to officiate their wedding. I am very honored to be asked, and am looking forward to their big day in October 2010.
The days keep flying by for me here,and I am constantly asking myself what happens next.
Till what happens next,
Stay Awesome & Happy Birthday, AnniePants.
Andy
Anyway, here's a thing:
Last night I embarked on a sentimental journey through the forgotten realms of Hell.
These are the levels that Dante thought about, then realized that they were much too tricky to describe.
The parts where mullets go to die.
And yet, they are embraced there too.
I entered a paradox of wondrous eye narcotics tonight.
It was good, yet the most evil I have encountered in my many years as Secretary of Inhuman Affairs. (not an actual position)
Tonight I went to a concert.
Not just any concert.
It was a family reunion of Cheap Trick, Poison and Def Leppard.
To say that it was epic would be saying the Titanic was a nice little yacht or that Seline Dion is pretty good at the banjo. (let your mind go with these things)
Here is my account of an evening that happened only 14 hours ago. No holds barred.
I just got home to Lisa and Jame's house. (From my Step Mom's place in Carmel, where I slept in the bed I slept in when Jr. High was a place to meet people and learn how to dismantle a gun.)I was staying there for a couple of days to help out my Dad. He has a bionic knee, and doesn't move very fast with heavy boxes of books.
Please enjoy.
Father and I enjoyed a nice afternoon of sifting through things.
He gave me many things, and bits of wonderful memories that I am surprised he parted with.
The last few days weren't as bad as I thought they would be. I still wish things were different, but at least both of them (Dad and Judy) know that I love them very dearly. Talking to Amanda helped calm my nerves, as I was about to lose my shit just before I spoke with her. Her timing is uncanny. Like an X-Man.
Lisa picked me up and we were on our way to Jason's (Fingers) house in Noblesville.
There, we ate and started to drink ourselves into a merry stupor.
Stephanie, his wife, and Sophia, their daughter were there to eat with us but did not partake in the rum that was flowing like an avalanche coming down a mountain.
As the time wore on, we were discussing the finer points of how to sneak booze into the concert venue.
I had brought a couple of stowaway airplane bottles that I thought were small enough to hide in a clever place. Sadly, my clever places meant my pants.
I managed to put two bottles in my 'down there' region. I did put them in a ziplock baggie so others might partake should they have become inclined. (and not discouraged by their proximity to my Man parts.
We knew we needed to bring the Rum, but had no way of getting the half gallon jug past security.
being the industrious and aspiring WC Fields that I am, I filled some baggies with the amber coloured Pirate kool aid and then double bagged them for quality assurance.
Lisa stuffed Andrea's bra with about a half bottle's worth of rum. I also filled two baggies and rolled them up in my sleeves, since I am prone to wearing a button down long sleeved shirt even on the hottest of days. But never a short sleeved shirt. never. Ever. It is my way...
So we are now walking to Deer Creek music Center that is now called 'Cell Phone Company that bought it and changed the name so everyone who come to this venue will suddenly switch carriers'
I still call it Deer Creek. I graduated high school there, and am a bit nostalgic. just a bit.
The place to rock is about a mile from Finger's house.
We went from fully developed housing areas that all were a shade of brown to areas that were about to become housing in varying shades of brown. Then we hit corn, and then we walked through the VIP gate of Deer Creek.
It was really just the area where all the Limos that people rented were parked, but we felt like VIP's anyway. First stop, of course was the port o pottie.
Since we walked in lieu of getting a ride from Stephanie, we missed Poison play that one song they play. (Just kidding)
Cheap Trick was breaking the hearts of girls who were not alive when Cheap Trick was a new band. And the amount of people there was amazing. I didn't think it would have been us and a couple other people, but Damn! It seems that these three bands found their target demographic with everyone anywhere ever. There must have been over five thousand, and I think I'm being stingy. We went to the police Cop who was checking ID's and stamping hands with the simple word 'Alcohol'
Fingers went first, and i think Lisa and Andrea got stamped too. i'm a little fuzzy on that.
When I met the PoliceCop, I pulled out my wallet (half in the bag already)and dropped my ticket. Fingers grabbed it for me. Thanks, Fingy. Then I struggled to get my ID out of the plastic thing in the wallet.
Then, as he was checking his memory about whether Minnesota is a real place of not, the two airplane bottles of booze fell out of my underwear. I guess they finally had enough, and now the gig was up. I didn't even get to see my one armed Def Leppard Drummer.
I guess Fingers, Lisa and Andrea saw the bottles fall out and were rolling on the ground laughing at me.
The PoliceCop didn't miss a beat (no pun intended) and said "If you drop one more thing, I'm not going to stamp you."
I told him I wouldn't. And he believed me. The fool!
Of course there was a tent set up where Camel was handing out free stuff, and as I am a sucker for free crap, we all went in and got free packs of smokes and some tins of Snus, that will never be used except for projectiles to hurl at the squirrels who are ruining Lisa and the girls garden at home.
Fingers decided it would be a good idea to spend $12 on a whiskey/coke in a plastic cup.
That's right.
Twelve American Dollars.
Six Dollars is too much, and twelve is 100% more than that.
I did however, think it was needed to pay $5 for a 20 ounce bottle of coke.
We needed something to put the rum in, didn't we?
And put the Rum in we did.
We found a spot to sit/stand in the nosebleed section of the lawn and everyone emptied our pockets/bras/ sleeves of booze that were now at body temp for easier absorption into our systems.
Then we listened to Def leppard sing about being cool and British. Very British. Even I wanted to help God save the Queen after it was done.
Cut to after the encore, and the thousands of people filed out. We just stayed on the blanket and dreamed about tomorrow or something.
When we did leave, I might have been a bit tipsy.
Just a touch.
I think my blood alcohol level was holding steady at around 56% Of my total blood.
No big deal.
Walking through an Indiana Summer night after being bombarded with rock music and booze is something I want all of you to experience.
Doing it with friends is a must, as they will keep you safe no matter what.
On second thought, no. No they won't.
I thought it would be a good idea to have a Gentleman's wager and claim that I didn't think that anyone would give me 5$ to go into the adjacent cornfield.
Lisa told me she would do just that.
And so I bolted into the corn that was just a bit shorter than I am.
Lisa decided she wanted to get eaten by a monster too, so she followed me directly.
Fingers and Andrea were watching us, walking along the drive, and listening to Lisa and I giggle at our cleverness. All the while, the top of my head was popping up over the stalks of corn. When we popped out along the road that would lead us back to Finger's house, I challenged a big sign to topple down. If that happened, I would have been the winner of an incredible prize: Another $5 from Lisa.
Sadly, the sign was very sturdy, though the passing cars were very supportive of me getting my prize money. They honked and cheered me on. to no avail...
Being bested by a sign that tells you than new homes started in the low 160's is humbling to a normal man.
Good thing I was enjoying the short term memory of a goldfish at that time.
As we strolled(stumbled) back through neighborhoods where the houses all look the same, I tripped and skinned my leg, just below the knee.
These things happen, and chicks dig scars.
By the time we got back to Finger's house, the girls were sober enough to drive home and for some reason we had the obligatory solar lights that I am so prone to acquire during nights of drunken revelry.
Lisa got me back to My step Mom's house and I slept the sleep of the just and true until my Dad got me up to load things into his storage space.
Now I am back in Irvington, and it is Annabeth's First Birthday.
I'm sure we will sit around watching her play with plastic cups and be completely oblivious to the fact that today is her most important day of the year.
But we will all be together, and that's all that matters.
In other news, I was told that Bill and Jen will be getting married next year, to which I exclaimed 'Whoo hoo' upon hearing.
Bill also asked on behalf of them both to officiate their wedding. I am very honored to be asked, and am looking forward to their big day in October 2010.
The days keep flying by for me here,and I am constantly asking myself what happens next.
Till what happens next,
Stay Awesome & Happy Birthday, AnniePants.
Andy
Friday, July 17, 2009
Update # 7
One of my favourite pieces of music is Mozart's Clarinet Quintet. (Coming in a close second to the song called 'I spell some words like I am from the UK. Deal with it')
Most widely known as what Major Charles Emerson Winchester III taught his Korean POW's to play on the last episode of MASH.
I used to watch MASH with my Mom almost every day. It's a good memory. I like the show a lot. Not many people fess up to that.
But seeing as how I am the most emotional-sentimental person in my little world, I am not ashamed.
I was listening to it play in my head this morning as I woke up from a very restless sleep. I don't know whay it was in there. But in there it was. No matter how hard I tried to get it out with a few verses of Rick Springfield's 'Jessie's Girl'
The Springfield always gets songs out of your head. He's like the pickled ginger you use to cleans your pallet between bites of sushi. If your mind were your pallet, and you tended to speak in metaphor. Of course, I don't do that. I am simple and clear in anything I write. So there.
Today he didn't work.
And he always works. Every time. Like Colt 45.
So today is the day that Rick Springfield betrayed me.
July 17th.
Remember it well, as he will betray you too.
It isn't like I'm clawing at my head to get the Mozart out. I like it. But it also for some reason reminds me of how much I missed my Mom when I was a pre-teen living in Carmel Indiana.
I wasn't very happy then. And I keep wondering why exactly that is. I'm toiling with a lot of stuff right now that should take precedence over my general mood when i was ten years old till about 16. After sixteen, i had reached an agreement with myself that it was alright to live my life as I saw fit, even though I may not have been in the exact locale I thought was a perfect fit for me.
It may all boil down to a very protective instinct I have for my mom. I moved, and she was alone. she needed me to help out around the house. There are other things, like my Dad not showing me very much affection when I lived with him, but that is stuff for another posting. (we are fine now, my dad and I)
Last night, I felt like I needed to protect. It was a strange feeling, not because I don't feel that way all the time. i would punch a bear, I'd like to think, if it were trying to eat my friends. Last night, I felt a need to protect myself. There's the rub. That shit is out of place, and very rarely happens.
The tricky thing about writing anything is that it rarely happens when you want it to. The writing, I mean. I can hope to produce a mountain of things both interesting and poignant, but more often than not, i stare at the screen and wish I were better at sports or building Model trains or baking or doing anything but writing.
My schedule is very open, yet I always seem to have things to do.
This is why a lot of the things I write here sometimes take a week to post.
There are always adventures I need to have with various so and so's. Believe me, I'd rather be on an adventure than writing a mish mash of sad mopey bits.
This one, of course is no different.
My adventures yesterday prevented me from finishing up this blog, and now I don't really feel the same way as I did. I still feel like protecting myself from whatever inevitable fall i have built up in my head to be the end all climax to whatever whatever... I just have a vivid imagination that wreaks havoc on me. I make mountains out of mole hills and really need to take a breath every once in a while, count to ten and keep moving on.
But if drama doesn't show itself, then I have to manufacture it.
Just one of the many things we here at Andy Brynildson are attempting to improve upon so you can better enjoy me.
Yesterday i went with Lindsay and Snarky Andrew to various places that included an arcade/gamey fun place called 'great times' I found myself in a batting cage for the first time in my life. (I hit one that was very good. The rest resembled all those years in little league that I never participated in)
we won tickets for skee ball, and won dinosaurs and friendship rings and little parachute men.
When we tried to find an ice cream store to calm our racing adrenaline, we ended up finding a wine bar. The only logical 'next best thing'
One bottle of Cab, a plate of meat/cheese/crackers and a bottle of Port later: We decided that it had been the best day up this point.
I saw the house that Andrew owns and fell in love with it. I have a friend who is looking at rentals, you see. It's in the shady part of town, but aside from it being perfect, it is perfect.
Where do you go when your day is going so well?
Hogwarts, of course.
Harry Potter and the prisoner of deathly secret goblets and half blood sorcerers phoenix should only be seen in a drive-in.
As a matter of fact, all movies should be seen in a Drive-in.
And in that drive-in should be your be your best friends.
And more port wine.
All in all, things have been going pretty well. Always room for improvement on all fronts. But if I had to make a list of good things and bad things, there would be like three things on the bad side and a thousand on the good.
things are looking up. (He said, as the other shoe dropped)
Not going so well for the book I'm supposed to be working on. I am pathetically low on finished pages, and am still looking for my muse to inspire me to greatness.
I do have a hot date with a symphony on Tuesday, so maybe I'll get some inspiration there.
More soon.
Stay Awesome
Andy
Most widely known as what Major Charles Emerson Winchester III taught his Korean POW's to play on the last episode of MASH.
I used to watch MASH with my Mom almost every day. It's a good memory. I like the show a lot. Not many people fess up to that.
But seeing as how I am the most emotional-sentimental person in my little world, I am not ashamed.
I was listening to it play in my head this morning as I woke up from a very restless sleep. I don't know whay it was in there. But in there it was. No matter how hard I tried to get it out with a few verses of Rick Springfield's 'Jessie's Girl'
The Springfield always gets songs out of your head. He's like the pickled ginger you use to cleans your pallet between bites of sushi. If your mind were your pallet, and you tended to speak in metaphor. Of course, I don't do that. I am simple and clear in anything I write. So there.
Today he didn't work.
And he always works. Every time. Like Colt 45.
So today is the day that Rick Springfield betrayed me.
July 17th.
Remember it well, as he will betray you too.
It isn't like I'm clawing at my head to get the Mozart out. I like it. But it also for some reason reminds me of how much I missed my Mom when I was a pre-teen living in Carmel Indiana.
I wasn't very happy then. And I keep wondering why exactly that is. I'm toiling with a lot of stuff right now that should take precedence over my general mood when i was ten years old till about 16. After sixteen, i had reached an agreement with myself that it was alright to live my life as I saw fit, even though I may not have been in the exact locale I thought was a perfect fit for me.
It may all boil down to a very protective instinct I have for my mom. I moved, and she was alone. she needed me to help out around the house. There are other things, like my Dad not showing me very much affection when I lived with him, but that is stuff for another posting. (we are fine now, my dad and I)
Last night, I felt like I needed to protect. It was a strange feeling, not because I don't feel that way all the time. i would punch a bear, I'd like to think, if it were trying to eat my friends. Last night, I felt a need to protect myself. There's the rub. That shit is out of place, and very rarely happens.
The tricky thing about writing anything is that it rarely happens when you want it to. The writing, I mean. I can hope to produce a mountain of things both interesting and poignant, but more often than not, i stare at the screen and wish I were better at sports or building Model trains or baking or doing anything but writing.
My schedule is very open, yet I always seem to have things to do.
This is why a lot of the things I write here sometimes take a week to post.
There are always adventures I need to have with various so and so's. Believe me, I'd rather be on an adventure than writing a mish mash of sad mopey bits.
This one, of course is no different.
My adventures yesterday prevented me from finishing up this blog, and now I don't really feel the same way as I did. I still feel like protecting myself from whatever inevitable fall i have built up in my head to be the end all climax to whatever whatever... I just have a vivid imagination that wreaks havoc on me. I make mountains out of mole hills and really need to take a breath every once in a while, count to ten and keep moving on.
But if drama doesn't show itself, then I have to manufacture it.
Just one of the many things we here at Andy Brynildson are attempting to improve upon so you can better enjoy me.
Yesterday i went with Lindsay and Snarky Andrew to various places that included an arcade/gamey fun place called 'great times' I found myself in a batting cage for the first time in my life. (I hit one that was very good. The rest resembled all those years in little league that I never participated in)
we won tickets for skee ball, and won dinosaurs and friendship rings and little parachute men.
When we tried to find an ice cream store to calm our racing adrenaline, we ended up finding a wine bar. The only logical 'next best thing'
One bottle of Cab, a plate of meat/cheese/crackers and a bottle of Port later: We decided that it had been the best day up this point.
I saw the house that Andrew owns and fell in love with it. I have a friend who is looking at rentals, you see. It's in the shady part of town, but aside from it being perfect, it is perfect.
Where do you go when your day is going so well?
Hogwarts, of course.
Harry Potter and the prisoner of deathly secret goblets and half blood sorcerers phoenix should only be seen in a drive-in.
As a matter of fact, all movies should be seen in a Drive-in.
And in that drive-in should be your be your best friends.
And more port wine.
All in all, things have been going pretty well. Always room for improvement on all fronts. But if I had to make a list of good things and bad things, there would be like three things on the bad side and a thousand on the good.
things are looking up. (He said, as the other shoe dropped)
Not going so well for the book I'm supposed to be working on. I am pathetically low on finished pages, and am still looking for my muse to inspire me to greatness.
I do have a hot date with a symphony on Tuesday, so maybe I'll get some inspiration there.
More soon.
Stay Awesome
Andy
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I'll take recap for 37 please, Alex.
And so it was. I became 31 years old last Friday night. Cells have died and been recreated several time since birth, and here we go with a who' who and what's what of the celebration of an anniversary of the making of a person who answers to the name 'Andy' But I prefer Danger king... And I am considering being okay with Tater Tot. But that last one is still in the R & D Department.
Dateline: Friday July 10 2009.
Location: The Irvington Neighborhood of Indianapolis Indiana. A place that I am liking very much, as I am surrounded by the best of the best.
Don't worry, internet travelers and Twin Cities residents, you still are ok in my book. For now. Dun Dun Dun.
I tried waking as early as my old and frail body would allow.
My dreams were a mixture of worrying about disastrous car crashes and unknown whereabouts of loved ones. Not a great night of dreaming, but it was on my mind as I fell asleep. It turns out, I CAN save people's lives in my REM cycles, and consider myself a hero in dreamland. And I wear a cape. But it is a tasteful number that compliments my legs, which I am told look pretty good. And that is from a trusted source.
There were a few text messages, and a few phone calls before i sauntered out to appreciate my kingdom.
Hellos and good wishes came my way, and the dreams of the previous night were quickly dissolving into vague memory.
Amanda had to work in the morning, so I was left with Lindsay and Lisa. Anniepants too, so I wasn't alone to contemplate my destiny just yet. There were things that had to be done. Errands for me usually only include one stop to the Speedway (SuperAmerica) to buy various sundries like hot dogs and Powerade in the refreshing red and orange flavors.
But Lindsay agreed to go on a quest with me to a couple of thrift stores so I could find a black suit jacket that I could wear later that night when masses would gather in my honor and sing covers of popular songs while drinking heavily.
Since I am a big guy, most jackets at thrift stores are much too small.
As was the case with both of the ones we went to.
I wish overweight guys would donate more clothing.
That, or I wish i wouldn't rely on gas stations for more of the food I consume daily.
Out of curiosity, we stopped by a big store simply called 'Flea Market'
It was amazing. I found things there that I didn't know I needed yet, and still even more stuff after that.
As if drawn by a higher power, we found ourselves at the 'Peddlers Mall' which was a brightly lit, cleaner version of The Flea Market. (The Flea Market smelled of cooking chili made with meat slaughtered in the back courtyard of a nearby apartment complex. Still, it is never good to go to a place called 'Flea Market' on an empty stomach, as your personal values go out the window. Still, we resisted)
Lindsay picked up a very attractive piece that takes my breath away every time I see it. To call it simply a piece of wood with a picture of two Unicorns would make the gods angry.
There are no words for its glory. The craftsmanship. The patina that seems to glow with the fantastic power of a thousand dying suns. The amazmagorical beasts themselves with the powerful horns and strong bodies waiting to enchant you and heft you upon their back to take you to the castle where you will cast a spell of magical power on a damsel who needs a good rogering...A Magical Rogering...
It is so beautiful. It is the only thing that matters in these darkest of times. It is a fucking piece of wood that someone decopaged a unicorn picture onto and then left it to rot in a dungeon until it chose the correct owner. And that owner was Lindsay. She may think she purchased it, but it purchased her. And it looks quite fancy above the fireplace next to my batman action figure and battle axe.
I thought that the prize for best find couldn't be attained, but in the end, I won.
I picked up the head of Darth Vader that you wear over your own head. And it makes you sound like him. Or you can press a button on the candy dispenser thing he wears on his chest to make James Earl Jones tell you that you cannot resist the power of the darkside. Or in this case, the Peddlers Mall.
Then we went to Meijer and she was offered one of the motorized carts by the nice pre-teen girl who saw Lindsay's broken ankle.
Lindsay promptly refused, which I will never ever forgive her for if I live to be a thousand years old and we all have hover jet packs.
I wanted to ride the cart. It was my birthday, and she betrayed me.
I have an enemy, and while her taste in wall decor is impeccable, she broke the number one rule:
If a store employee offer you the motorized cart thing, you take it. When you crash into the Paper towel display, it is her ass, not yours.
It was like getting the keys to the Bentley and saying that you would rather take the razor scooter to get to prom.
On my list, Shiv. On my list...
However, I did forget to tell that i found a very impressive sculpture with an owl on top for Amanda. She likes owls, and ceramic things from the 70's. I know I won her heart with that. Though she may smash it to bits when I turn my back. It's the thought that counts, right?
Then what? well, I wrote to my Mom, posted a blog and got ready for the night's festivities.
We went to Nippers Bar and Grill in Carmel to sing Karaoke.
I was visited by the Birthday Pig, which is a tradition in Lisa's family that I had always wanted to be a part of. The Birthday pig sent me Thirty One cupcakes (one for each year I have been around)that kicked ass and helped to soak up the booze that we were all drinking with reckless abandon.
Songs were sung, and lots of video taken.
I was with wonderful people, and I didn't forget for a moment how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends.
I asked Fingers to drop his talent for singing down a few notches so as to not appear better than me. Sadly, his worst performance was ten times better than my worst. I still managed to have a great time.
Some of the best pictures from the night are posted up on facebook, and I am in charge of adding the second batch.
More to come, i am sure.
Krysta Kendall, an old friend from high school dropped by to say hi, even though it was her 10 year wedding anniversary.
I was touched, and it was good to meet the man she has chosen to spend her life with.
Nice guy too. Looks like my friend Dave Mitch From Minneapolis. It kind of freaked me out a little.
There was an Andrea Grube there, and a Matthew Russ, and a Brooke Nelson, and The Snarky Andrew, And a Brett Stevens, and a Jenny Macias and a Jeremy Murray and a Stephanie Lenger and a Dark Snack, whose real name is Wendy, but I know her through LiveJournal. She apparently lives in irvington, and might become chummy with the girls.
My dorch gang was all there, save for Jenny & Hammam. They couldn't make it due to having a teeny tiny baby boy named Adam. I missed them a lot and wished they were able to watch me massacre Bon Jovi.
Having the majority of my people there was the best gift. It's hard to wrangle them all together. kind of like herding cats. Amanda, Lindsay, Lisa, James, Jenny, Hammam Fingers, Jen: I love you all to the Moon and back.
The night was perfect, and it was one for the memory books.
I was hugged by many and loved by all. And the fact that it was my birthday didn't matter. I know they would do that on any regular day.
Did I mention that everyone looked wicked hot? Well, the women did, anyway. It was hard to make eye contact, and i was dizzy from being so proud of the fact that I surround myself with attractive ladies just like Charlie and his angels.
At 11:11pm, I made sure I was outside looking up at the sky. it's become a tradition for me to be alone for a few moments so I can thank whoever is responsible for my good fortune and anything else that seems to be going well.
Then, as if by cue, my Amanda came outside to make sure she was the first person I kissed as a 31 year old. Wishes do come true sometimes.
Being older isn't so bad. I went to cracker Barrel the next day to inaugurate me into the ranks of the elderly, and the fact that I drank coffee during dinner was a sign of respect for the good Scandinavians who came before me... And I may have wanted to buy a quilt... Whatever. I have more years ahead than behind still.
Thank you to all who sent me good wishes, and those who showed up to sing with me.
Here is to the next year, I wish that every night would end with Amanda in a Vader helmet dancing the Vogue.
Stay Awesome.
Andy
Dateline: Friday July 10 2009.
Location: The Irvington Neighborhood of Indianapolis Indiana. A place that I am liking very much, as I am surrounded by the best of the best.
Don't worry, internet travelers and Twin Cities residents, you still are ok in my book. For now. Dun Dun Dun.
I tried waking as early as my old and frail body would allow.
My dreams were a mixture of worrying about disastrous car crashes and unknown whereabouts of loved ones. Not a great night of dreaming, but it was on my mind as I fell asleep. It turns out, I CAN save people's lives in my REM cycles, and consider myself a hero in dreamland. And I wear a cape. But it is a tasteful number that compliments my legs, which I am told look pretty good. And that is from a trusted source.
There were a few text messages, and a few phone calls before i sauntered out to appreciate my kingdom.
Hellos and good wishes came my way, and the dreams of the previous night were quickly dissolving into vague memory.
Amanda had to work in the morning, so I was left with Lindsay and Lisa. Anniepants too, so I wasn't alone to contemplate my destiny just yet. There were things that had to be done. Errands for me usually only include one stop to the Speedway (SuperAmerica) to buy various sundries like hot dogs and Powerade in the refreshing red and orange flavors.
But Lindsay agreed to go on a quest with me to a couple of thrift stores so I could find a black suit jacket that I could wear later that night when masses would gather in my honor and sing covers of popular songs while drinking heavily.
Since I am a big guy, most jackets at thrift stores are much too small.
As was the case with both of the ones we went to.
I wish overweight guys would donate more clothing.
That, or I wish i wouldn't rely on gas stations for more of the food I consume daily.
Out of curiosity, we stopped by a big store simply called 'Flea Market'
It was amazing. I found things there that I didn't know I needed yet, and still even more stuff after that.
As if drawn by a higher power, we found ourselves at the 'Peddlers Mall' which was a brightly lit, cleaner version of The Flea Market. (The Flea Market smelled of cooking chili made with meat slaughtered in the back courtyard of a nearby apartment complex. Still, it is never good to go to a place called 'Flea Market' on an empty stomach, as your personal values go out the window. Still, we resisted)
Lindsay picked up a very attractive piece that takes my breath away every time I see it. To call it simply a piece of wood with a picture of two Unicorns would make the gods angry.
There are no words for its glory. The craftsmanship. The patina that seems to glow with the fantastic power of a thousand dying suns. The amazmagorical beasts themselves with the powerful horns and strong bodies waiting to enchant you and heft you upon their back to take you to the castle where you will cast a spell of magical power on a damsel who needs a good rogering...A Magical Rogering...
It is so beautiful. It is the only thing that matters in these darkest of times. It is a fucking piece of wood that someone decopaged a unicorn picture onto and then left it to rot in a dungeon until it chose the correct owner. And that owner was Lindsay. She may think she purchased it, but it purchased her. And it looks quite fancy above the fireplace next to my batman action figure and battle axe.
I thought that the prize for best find couldn't be attained, but in the end, I won.
I picked up the head of Darth Vader that you wear over your own head. And it makes you sound like him. Or you can press a button on the candy dispenser thing he wears on his chest to make James Earl Jones tell you that you cannot resist the power of the darkside. Or in this case, the Peddlers Mall.
Then we went to Meijer and she was offered one of the motorized carts by the nice pre-teen girl who saw Lindsay's broken ankle.
Lindsay promptly refused, which I will never ever forgive her for if I live to be a thousand years old and we all have hover jet packs.
I wanted to ride the cart. It was my birthday, and she betrayed me.
I have an enemy, and while her taste in wall decor is impeccable, she broke the number one rule:
If a store employee offer you the motorized cart thing, you take it. When you crash into the Paper towel display, it is her ass, not yours.
It was like getting the keys to the Bentley and saying that you would rather take the razor scooter to get to prom.
On my list, Shiv. On my list...
However, I did forget to tell that i found a very impressive sculpture with an owl on top for Amanda. She likes owls, and ceramic things from the 70's. I know I won her heart with that. Though she may smash it to bits when I turn my back. It's the thought that counts, right?
Then what? well, I wrote to my Mom, posted a blog and got ready for the night's festivities.
We went to Nippers Bar and Grill in Carmel to sing Karaoke.
I was visited by the Birthday Pig, which is a tradition in Lisa's family that I had always wanted to be a part of. The Birthday pig sent me Thirty One cupcakes (one for each year I have been around)that kicked ass and helped to soak up the booze that we were all drinking with reckless abandon.
Songs were sung, and lots of video taken.
I was with wonderful people, and I didn't forget for a moment how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends.
I asked Fingers to drop his talent for singing down a few notches so as to not appear better than me. Sadly, his worst performance was ten times better than my worst. I still managed to have a great time.
Some of the best pictures from the night are posted up on facebook, and I am in charge of adding the second batch.
More to come, i am sure.
Krysta Kendall, an old friend from high school dropped by to say hi, even though it was her 10 year wedding anniversary.
I was touched, and it was good to meet the man she has chosen to spend her life with.
Nice guy too. Looks like my friend Dave Mitch From Minneapolis. It kind of freaked me out a little.
There was an Andrea Grube there, and a Matthew Russ, and a Brooke Nelson, and The Snarky Andrew, And a Brett Stevens, and a Jenny Macias and a Jeremy Murray and a Stephanie Lenger and a Dark Snack, whose real name is Wendy, but I know her through LiveJournal. She apparently lives in irvington, and might become chummy with the girls.
My dorch gang was all there, save for Jenny & Hammam. They couldn't make it due to having a teeny tiny baby boy named Adam. I missed them a lot and wished they were able to watch me massacre Bon Jovi.
Having the majority of my people there was the best gift. It's hard to wrangle them all together. kind of like herding cats. Amanda, Lindsay, Lisa, James, Jenny, Hammam Fingers, Jen: I love you all to the Moon and back.
The night was perfect, and it was one for the memory books.
I was hugged by many and loved by all. And the fact that it was my birthday didn't matter. I know they would do that on any regular day.
Did I mention that everyone looked wicked hot? Well, the women did, anyway. It was hard to make eye contact, and i was dizzy from being so proud of the fact that I surround myself with attractive ladies just like Charlie and his angels.
At 11:11pm, I made sure I was outside looking up at the sky. it's become a tradition for me to be alone for a few moments so I can thank whoever is responsible for my good fortune and anything else that seems to be going well.
Then, as if by cue, my Amanda came outside to make sure she was the first person I kissed as a 31 year old. Wishes do come true sometimes.
Being older isn't so bad. I went to cracker Barrel the next day to inaugurate me into the ranks of the elderly, and the fact that I drank coffee during dinner was a sign of respect for the good Scandinavians who came before me... And I may have wanted to buy a quilt... Whatever. I have more years ahead than behind still.
Thank you to all who sent me good wishes, and those who showed up to sing with me.
Here is to the next year, I wish that every night would end with Amanda in a Vader helmet dancing the Vogue.
Stay Awesome.
Andy
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