What did you do during September? Here’s what I was up to.
It’s done. The Official World Headquarters of the CDP are up, running and fully operational. I have to say, thanks to a solid work ethic and proper planning (by me), the transition was about as smooth as I could have hoped for. We simply set fire to the old place and let our insurance company take care of the rest. I was getting sick of the cats anyways.
The movers were top-notch, meth-free and stole nothing of significant value. The cable guys were in and out of my house before I could even get their names and waist measurements. We also bought a nice, new bed without any haggling or bankruptcy hearings whatsoever. I’ve set my drums up in the basement, and plan on reuniting myself with the age-old concept of rocking one’s face off as soon as possible.
Two-car garage? Check. Full basement? Check. Central air and an extra bedroom? Check and mate. I’m officially a suburbanite, and would like to hereby be addressed as one from this point forward.
Get the hell off my lawn, you damn punk kids.
2. I grew a devastating chinstrap.
The Missus is anti-beard (therefore, anti-awesome), so I couldn’t go all-out Hobotron during my time away from work. I did, however, ease her into the inevitable transition by donning the facial hair choice of dumb jocks and Smash Mouth lead singers everywhere, the Chinstrap.
I have to tell you, I was pretty happy with this and the Missus didn’t vomit with disgust, so I might be on to something here. She now realizes that when I do decide to grow a full beard, the Color Ratio and Bum Factor will be to her liking. All my wife really wants is to know what’s going to happen before it actually happens.
As you can imagine, it was a pretty big day for me. By the way, I’m not really that white.
3. I went to a Brewers game.
Although I spent the majority of my time off moving and adjusting to said move, I was able to get out of the house a few times to enjoy my freedom. I received a call from my folks, letting me know that my uncle was giving up three Brewers tickets to whoever wanted them (thanks again, Jeff). Never being one to turn down free tickets to anything (cockfight, stock footage film festival), I was in.
Miller Park is a beautiful and modern stadium, one of the best in the nation, I’ve been told. Even the Missus had a good time, which was a monumental occurance in the grand timeline of Sports History. This was due in part to the famous ‘Sausage Race,’ in which mascots dressed as various Wisconsin sausages race around the field during the Seventh Inning Stretch. She looked like a child on Christmas morning; it was beautiful.
Milwaukee won the game, the Polish Sausage won the race and the beer was $6 a bottle. We plan on going back as soon as we can.
4. I went to a Packers game.
I’ve been lucky enough to attend a Packer game every year for the last four years, thanks to my father-in-law’s generosity and patience. This one was probably the most special, regardless of the fact they got their worst ass-plastering in over 15 years.
This was the first game of the season, against the Chicago Bears. The festivities started with a fly-over from the Blue Angels (the biggest waste of taxpayer money ever), which was both neat and temporarily deafening. Also, to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the last Green Bay Super Bowl win (it was that long ago?), the 1996-97 team came out onto the field. I wasn’t able to see the Super Bowl team play in person that season, so to see them all on the field together was amazing.
Representing Reggie White was his wife and son, who then retired his number in the stadium. I’m not the least bit ashamed to admit that I was fighting back emotions at the time. Say what you want about professional sports and athletes in general, but these guys have made millions of fans jump, cheer, smile and cry, which is far more that I can say about myself.
Then my father-in-law called me a “queer” and told me to “compose myself” before he “threw up into his nine-dollar bag of peanuts.”
I had a great time.
Our new apartment isn’t really an apartment as much as it is a condo that we pay rent on. The yard, driveway and everything else belongs to us, but we pay Mexicans to fix things when they break and whatnot. I was looking forward to this harmonic balance of maturity and co-dependence. I sometimes break appliances just so the maintainence guy has to come over and look at it. I have an ever-growing pile of dead guys in blue jumpsuits in my basement.
When the former tenant moved out, all of the neighborhood teenage boys took notice, and thought they had found a nice, big, empty driveway in which to skateboard and bike in. This was true for the three days that the house was empty, but their escapades continued well into the first week of our tenure there.
I have no problem with good-natured kids ‘gettin they skate awn.’ There isn’t a skate park in the neighborhood, despite having one of the thickest concentrations on teenagers in the state of Wisconsin. The problem was that they thought the place was empty, so they were riding their bikes in the lawn and jumping over our hedges and whatnot. If the lawn or shrubbery gets damaged at the hands of these kids, I have to pay for it.
Uh-uh. No way, Sk8er Boi.
The confrontation finally came late one night during the end of the first week. I caught one of the kids screwing around in the driveway again, this time, by my car (the Wild Stallion). I turned on the porch light and emerged, wearing all black and looking positively pissed off. I had spent all day moving, so my hair was a mess and my hands were all cut up. I stood illuminated under the porch light on my stoop, which is about three feet off of the ground. I probably looked pretty spooky to this kid, like some God of serial killer suburbanites.
I should have been holding a hammer; it would have been a nice touch.
His skateboard stopped dead. I’ve never stopped anyone dead with a look before. Everything got real quiet as he looked up at me, realizing that yes, people actually lived here. People that were young and angry and had no problem murdering people that got in between them and their quest for peace, quiet and well-maintained shrubbery.
“What are you doing?” I asked, trying very hard to appear insane and not blink. I have a childish and unintimidating body, so I can’t rely on my figure to scare children. If I were naked, well…that would be a different story. Nope, I have to rely on my acting skills, appearing as if I’m a nanosecond away from lopping someone’s head off at the base of the neck.
“Um…you live here?” He sqeaked back, silently wetting his pants. “I didn’t know, because…”
“Now you know.” I shot back. He turned tail and disappeared into the moonlight.
I felt pretty good about myself, although the experience has left me feeling quite old. Just a few years ago, that would have been me out there, blaring horrible music and impressing female passerby. Nowadays, if you so much as think about setting foot on my lawn again, I’ll drag you into the house and do things that will make your parents cry forever.
6. I scratched my cornea.
Somewhere in the midst of loading and unloading every stupid thing that I own, I got a shard of wood caught in my eye.
Yep, I was just as shocked as you are.
Not being used to getting things stuck (and staying stuck) in my eye, I worked feverishly to extract the foreign intruder. I washed, rinsed, gouged, scraped and tore at my cornea for somewhere north of two hours before falling asleep late one night. The next morning, my right eye looked as if I had shot a thick stream of DDT straight into it. I was getting nervous.
The foreign object had been removed naturally during the night, but I still felt irritation, so I thought that it was merely hiding from me. After another hour of amateur optometric surgery, the Missus informed me that I had scratched my cornea, and I should stop touching it before I went blind and she divorced me.
She’s a smart lady. Everything went back to normal in a few days.
7. I pulled my groin for the 4th damn time.
Pulling your groin is just awful; I don’t wish it on anyone (except for maybe you). I swore to myself that it wasn’t going to happen to me this time around, regardless of how many boxes and heavy things I loaded into my car. I made sure to properly squat and stretch before lifting; I used correct form and posture, and jacked myself up with metric tons of anabolic steroids.
Yet, no less than three days into the process, my inner thigh rolled up like a windowshade and sent me reeling to the floor, leaving me for the buzzards to pick clean. It was only a slight pull this time, so I healed quickly. It doesn’t make it any less awful, though.
However, if you’re interested in massaging my pulled groin with ancient oils and aloe butter, send an e-mail to firstname.lastname@example.org, and I will answer them in the order of their delivery. Include a photo.
8. I saw my new nephew again.
My Mom is a borderline agoraphopic. If it’s outside of the warm confines of her small town, then she’s not interested. Trying to get her to visit us in the big city is like pulling teeth; I’m lucky if I can get her down here once a year and tap her for cash. This was one of those times.
My Mom, sister and new nephew came down last weekend to check out the new place and do some shopping. The baby is doing great, and my sister has really stepped into her Motherly role quite nicely. I was so proud of this that I bought her the concert tickets she had been obsessing about for months. I was happy, she was happy; we were all happy.
Then I got drunk and took a swing at the baby. We haven’t spoken since.
9. I went for a walk in the Autumn weather.
To long-time readers of the CDP, it’s no surprise that October is my absolute favorite time of the year. A Wisconsin Autumn is something to behold; nothing but beauty, photo opportunities and hooded sweatshirts as far as the eye can see. Not only that, but it all culminates with my favorite holiday of all-time, Halloween.
Oh yes, it’s a holiday. The Queen Mother of All Holidays, to be exact.
I’m hoping that we’ll get some trick-or-treaters this year, considering that now we have a door and everything. I had some ideas for decorating the front lawn, but I didn’t want my neighbors holding an emergency meeting to ban us from the community. We saw a bunch of fake blood for sale at the Halloween Superstore, and thought it would be funny to simply stand on the lawn during trick-or-treat hours and take turns murdering one another in a gruesome fashion.
I’m listening to different music. Autumn music. I’m wearing a jacket outside. A light jacket. I’m watching all of my Pete & Pete DVD’s. Please enjoy October, or else you just might be a jerk.
10. I took a picture of my cat in mid-sneeze.
Sweet. This is what makes life worth living.
It’s good to be back. Sound off in the comments section and let me know what you were up to last month. Tell me that you missed me, and make me promise I’ll never leave you again.
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