BBQ Misfortunes

On Thursday (or was it Friday?) my beautiful wife had the awesome idea to go to a local park and eat our dinner. My dad got me a portable butane grill for Father's day and we wanted to try it out. So she had pre-made all the hamburger patties and we got the condiments and everything ready to go. It was a beautiful evening.

About halfway there, we realized that we didn't bring a spatula. So we had to turn around and go get one. If you don't drive around Rexburg much, you will need to understand what it is like to drive there. It isn't crazy traffic or anything. In fact it is worse. There are a million stop lights and stop signs that impede your progress from Point A to Point B. It takes way to long to get anywhere because you are always stopping and waiting. It is extremely frustrating. So we made our way to the park and thought we were on our way to an enjoyable evening (which we were).

After we got the blanket on the ground, the food out, and the grill set up, I turned the propane on. It was then that I realized we forgot matches. Sooooooo I stayed by the blanket and grill and Lindsey drove back to the aparment. It was a long wait. but she was safe. And the burgers were good.

Ventable material: Don't forget stuff and don't build a city with an overabundance of stoplights.

Methinks Blog Is Hard

Props go to those who blog on a daily basis. I am in a lecture right now for communication majors. A speaker gave a bunch of tips to make sure we are successful and one of them was to write every day. I love to write and would love to be a hardcore blogger ... but c'mon, what am I going to blog about? I thought I would find something to vent about all the time, but as it turns out - I don't. Additionally, what if one day a company wants to promote me from pencil sharpenerer to CEO and they do a little research and find this blog that talks about why I hate what people do? Won't that hurt my chances?

Oh well. Here is something that happened to me the other day that really bothered me.

Class was about to start and there was an empty desk next to me. The class is in a miniature lecture hall and the desks are pretty close to each other. A student walked in late and sat next to me. It didn't take long for me to find out he was very sick. I felt bad for the poor kid because he kept putting his head on the desk and moaning quietly to himself. It was easy to see that he was miserable. My problem was that I didn't particularly want to get sick. I can't really afford to get sick right now - there is too much going on. I found myself putting my hand up to my face and shielding it from any deadly toxins that might be floating in the air.

As class progressed, he was obviously struggling to even stay awake. He would fall asleep either just by doing head-bobs or by putting his head on his desk. I don't really know how to explain this but .... he was really sick and you could tell by the way he breathed in from his nose. Get it? Understand? Like when he sniffed it sounded gooey. You know? Like sticky. You know? All slurpy and stuff. Anyway, when he was sleeping .... it was ..... dripping .... out .... of his nose.

I don't want to go into too much detail or anything (one because it is gross and two because I feel kind of bad doing so).

Why this is vent material: If you are sick, just stay home. Please.

Fantasy Baseball Blues

Fantasy baseball rules. My problem is that I don't rule at fantasy baseball. Last season, I spent almost every week in last place. This season I have been in second-to-last for too long. I started this week winning big time and once again my opponent came back to beat me. I ended the week losing 4-5. Boo.

Skewer

Have you ever turned over a big rock or rotting piece of wood and found tons of spiders, earwigs, rock chucks, termites, and treasure maps? I've never found a treasure map or a rock chuck.

At work today I was assessing a sprinkler "situation." There was some sprinkler valves leaking and I was trying to find them. For those of you who don't know, (who am I kidding by saying "those of you ..." I'm the only one who reads this and I already "know" ...) sprinkler valves are generally found buried inside green boxes in the yard or flower bed. So I was going through this man's yard opening all the valve boxes I could. The homeowner was following me, which bugs me. Even worse, he couldn't hear worth a darn but I felt the need to explain what I was doing anyway. So I would say something and he would say, "heh?" and I would repeat it louder and slower. After a while I got tired and just pretended he wasn't there. That's when I started being efficient.

Anyway, that isn't the story. This is: I opened a valve box and found a mouse nest. It had two adult mice hiding inside. Coincidentally, that was the box with the problems. He asked if he should get rid of them and I said yes. He left while I went and found other valve boxes (at that time I still wasn't sure where the problem was). I saw him heading for the mouse box and went to meet him, expecting to see him with moth balls, poison, or a plastic bag and rubber gloves. Nope. He had a hammer and another tool I would best describe as a "poker."

The old man got down on his knees and nonchalantly began to stab at the mice. I was pretty stunned that he was attempting to stab them with a hand tool. I honestly didn't think he would be quick enough. Well, I was wrong. I stood with my mouth gaping as he landed one right in the belly. Sick.

Did you know that I generally don't even kill bugs I find in my house? Lindsey gets upset with me because I usually just put them outside. I don't know what it is about me, but I don't usually smash them. Don't think I'm weird or anything. I'm not trying to make a statement about killing bugs. I don't think it is wrong to do so, especially if those bugs have trespassed into your living quarters. If Lindsey requests, I will smash whatever she wants without hesitation, but left to my own decisions ... I usually just put them outside or don't even do anything to them. Anyway, the point is: I don't usually kill things, not because I think there is something morally wrong with it. I just feel uncomfortable. I especially don't stab mice with pokers. Imagine how uncomfortable I was watching this man stab mice with a poker!

So after the first mouse was skewered and thrown to the side, he started jabbing at the other one. It was running back and forth inside the box trying to evade death. I, on the other hand, was standing a few feet away, hypnotized. The old man finally got the mouse right in the head. He pushed hard against the head and pinned it between the poker and the ground. I heard bones crunch and that was that. Oh except that afterwards the man stumbled to his feet and tried to fling the mouse into the trees to our right. It didn't come off the way he hoped and it flew right in front of my face, missing me by just a little. I swear, if it would have hit my face I would ruined his sprinkler system. Probably because that is the only leverage I had against the man.

Am I wrong to feel uncomfortable watching this man try and stab mice with a poker? I'm lucky he didn't try and smash them with a hammer. I probably would have thrown up in his hair. Either that or shed tears of sadness in his hair. Maybe both.