Dr. Cellular or : How I Learned to Stop Socializing and Love the Internets

I hope someone got the reference in the title, anyway...

This isn't going to be the first time this has been said and it will be far from the last: CELL PHONES ARE MAKING US USELESS AS PEOPLE.  We're all guilty...shamelessly, hopelessly guilty.  We're glued to our phones like our lives depend on them, when (guess what) they don't.  We walk around in a daze, cant hold a conversation without a phantom vibration that pulls us away, and God forbid I don't show everyone this salad I'm about to stuff my face with. The list of con's is just as long, if not longer, than the pro's, and every day people get more and more wrapped up in them.  A new app that does the same thing as 3 others on your phone, but slightly differently.  A new game where you have to match shit together and harass your friends for extra lives because you cant wait ten minutes.  Hell, I've been writing for ten minutes and checked my pone three goddamn times; I'm no angel either.  It's crazy to think about how such a valuable tool is used, more often than not, for mindless bullshit, bragging, and frivolous updating.  So since everyone knows the benefits of having a cellular device of some kind and constantly being wired into the world, lets go over the negatives that, although just as obvious, are often overlooked; probably because you got some sort of notification that pulled you away from the epiphany you were about to have.

Allow me to guide you on your path to enlightenment.  I wont point out the irony if you're reading this on your phone.  Well anymore than I just did...

PHONES RUINED MOVIES

Not just the movie viewing experience, but the art of films in general.  But lets just start with the obvious.  

If you use your phone for anything once the lights dim in a movie theater you are a piece of shit. That is me putting it nicely.  Very nicely.  It goes without saying that you shouldn't be talking to the people around you in a movie, so why the hell does it make it OK to talk to people who aren't even in the same room as you.  I've seen, almost every time I go to escape reality for a few hours and catch a flick, some stupid ass either talking, texting, or recording the movie.  So instead of escaping reality I just get reminded that everyone is an asshole, and they surround me always.  It baffles me every single time the balls it takes to answer a call during a show; or not really balls but lack of respect for those around you and even the for the sad sack that does it.  How does the person on the phone lack self respect you ask?  Well, unless you have a desire for strangers to think of ways to punch your phone through your head and stare you down like demon spawn when the lights come back up, there really is no benefit to answering.

Then there's texting/Facebooking/whateverthefucking.  Your super huge, almost a laptop, HD phone screen coming on in the movie theater is the equivalent of your mother ripping the blinds open whilst you slumber at noon because you have to mow the lawn, even though you were out late and its hot and your hungover and...see, it even brings back bad memories.  Your texting is bullshit, why do you need to text during a movie?  I'm sure the whole movie experience, from having the idea up until five minutes into opening credits has been documented on multiple social media accounts already.

Twitter: anyone wanna see a movie #bored #movie #nofilter #funsies #[some cause you support]
(because you need to hash tag it in case any random strangers have nothing to do)

Facebook: heading to the movies, my life is wonderful, everyone look

(because that's what Facebook is these days; that and advertisements)

Snapchat: [let me tell everyone I'm buying popcorn for five seconds]

(because unless your sending a nudie, what's the point)

Instagram: [let me post a picture of a dark theater so I never forget this moment and either does anyone else]

(because...reasons)

I know I'm forgetting things but you get the picture.  Why can't you just call a friend or two, grab your significant other, or go solo (some people think that's depressing but its really quite relaxing) and go see a movie instead of broadcasting it like its a visit from the Pope.  But I digress.  So now you've alerted the world to your presence, it only makes sense that your phone needs to be glued to your hand in case someone likes a post or texts you about something.

Now I could tell you stories about many the times I had to say things to people, but I wont because it just aggravates me.  There is a good one where I looked a 13 or 14 year old kid dead in the eyes (this was after 2 polite warnings to stop taking pictures with the flash on in the middle of the movie...yes that happened) and told him that if I even see his phone again I'm going to break it in half feed it to him; but that's a story for another piece.

So lets talk about how phones ruined the art of  movies.  It's making them less believable.  Imagine Friday the 13th took place in the real world.  How many teenagers would be anywhere without their phones plastered to their hand.  There would be no chance for Mr. Voorhees to clean house without being blasted on social media, or having the cops show up.  Basically what I'm saying is that with the answers to almost every question in the palm of your hand, its hard to imagine situations in most films that can't be solved by Google.  Sure this doesn't go for period movies and certain other films, but for the most part it does.  There's the argument that it forces movie makers to be more creative, which is true, but it kinda takes the fun out of the urgency that some movies offer, at least to me; but maybe I'm just being bitchy.  Oh well, on to the next point.

PHONES RUINED RELATIONSHIPS

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing like getting an "I love you" text out of nowhere, or being able to call your significant other to express your yearning for their nether regions while you should be working, but we all know what the drawbacks are.

First off the phone is equivalent to the Necronomicon.  Full of demons and evil, past, present and future missteps.  It holds onto things you'd prefer to let go of.  It's a tool of temptation in the palm of your hand and an access to the realm of possibilities which may make a relationship, to some, seem like a road block instead of a building block.  I'm part of the generation who saw the explosion of cell phones.  You know you've seen the picture of a house phone online with the text that says something like: "kids these days will never know the fear of calling your crush and having their parents answer".  Lemme tell ya, the fear was real, and it went like that with me up until college where everyone had a cell.  In the time before phones, getting in touch with people was broken down into 3 categories:

1) I see you, you see me, lets plan something and meet there.  Hopefully everyone shows up on time because cell phones haven't been invented yet.

2) [calls house] "Hi Mr./Mrs. so-and-so, is my crush there?"..."Who's this, what are your intentions/plans, where will you be...?" [craps pants] "I...I just wanna hang out."

3) "OH HEEEEEEY! what are you doing here, lets get lunch at a specific date and time, put it in our WRITTEN day planners...and again hope we both show up and don't forget.

That was pretty much it.  Getting together on a wing and a prayer.  You actually had to meet people back then, I know, seems crazy, right?  Then when you got together you had to entertain each other.  You had to talk and find out about each other organically, with words.  Stalking out their lives and forming opinions wasn't an option, you had to put in work.  Work increases value, value makes things last and gives you an appreciation for the person you chose to invest in.  Now it's too easy to see other options and sticking with one person, even if they're great, can seem like you're holding yourself back.  Plus relationships have become kind of a spectacle, which makes them lack in substance.  Social media is full of "I love my significant other, they're the best, I'm so lucky, blah, blah, blah..." often times right up until the breakup.  There exists a sort of competition of bragging and outdoing each other for some people.  Like they think their relationship is only as good as people perceive it on social media.  I don't get it, I really don't.

Now, there's an arsenal of possibilities on every social app.  From people you ran into and became "friends" with at some point in time to a slew of apps that you post your best picture from 10 years ago and catfish some poor, unsuspecting person into hanging out with you until they cant take it anymore. Aside from social apps, there's every dude/chick you've ever given your number to who can drunk text you and harass you at all hours of the night because nothing says "I respect you" and romance like a late night attempted booty call.  Again we go back to the lack of self respect and respect for others that cell phones instigate.  Up until freshman year in college I'd never gotten a such a text.  Not that my first "hey wanna watch a movie and have some sex" text wasn't the greatest thing ever (because I had (have?) a questionable moral fiber...and yes we actually had to rent hard copies of DVD's from a store to do that.  Old school "Netflix and chill.").  But now I'm older, sick of the games, and want to just be with someone who can separate herself from that.

Almost half the dates I've been on when single has revolved around a phone, and it's been the deal breaker.  I don't even wait to see what medication they're on anymore, if the phone comes out to take a picture of your dinner, check [insert social app], or to take a phone call or text (unless it's from a dying relative) then I write you off on the spot.  Sound harsh? Tough shit!  If you can't disassociate from your phone for a few hours it speaks volumes about how things will go down the road.  I'm trying to become a master of the red flags, and that one is pretty accurate, and it is pretty sad.  Not to mention the modern day phone is a Pandora's Box of secrets and potential problems that almost always come to fruition in a relationship. I've been on both sides of that situation and they both suck. And lets not forget the wonderful ability to torture yourself by checking on old lovers in the middle of the night as you cry into your pillow, oh the fun.  But its not just romantic relationships that take a hit, its every kind.

PHONES RUINED HAVING FRIENDS

When was the last time you sat around with your friends or family and most people didn't have their phone within reach.  The common thing is to place it on the table somewhere near you in case you get bored with the people you're with and wanna see what the people you aren't with are doing, because in no way is that rude at all.  No, nothing is rude about about that...if you're a prick.

Think about the message that sends, and again I'm guilty of this too.  Having your phone out like some vague threat that you better be entertained or out comes Instagram.  Or answering a text mid conversation with people: "Hold on, Ima let you finish, but so-and-so just sent me the most important text in the world."  Yeah, I said it, using your phone for other things when you're with other people is like turning into Kanye West, the biggest douche of all.  Kinda makes ya think, no?  Not everyone does this though.  I have one group of friends who always make everyone put their phones in a pile and no one touches them, which is great and those are honestly the most fun get togethers.  Then there's the friends who are constantly on their phones.  Judging from their social app status you'd think these people were the most fun in the world.  In reality they spend more time talking about what they're "doing" than actually doing it.  Or they're making plans to do something else, so that when they get there they can tell everyone what they did, and start planning the next event.

Phones are killing peoples ability to have friends that don't exist virtually.  I have friends who can talk your ear off on text and can't make a complete sentence in person.  Plus there's that telephone tough guy syndrome.  It's easy to say whatever when you're not staring the person in the face.  Fortunately for phones, now you can be as macho as you want with little to no consequence (unless you run into the person, of course).  But that's what its about these days, image.  You can tailor your image to however you want when hidden behind a device, why wouldn't you take advantage, it's not like you'd ever have to back it up since you never have to actually go anywhere to be anywhere, if that makes any sense.  However there are times when your image can bite you in the ass, which is why...

PHONES AND SOCIAL MEDIA RUINED JOBS

If you're reading this on your phone at work, 'nough said.  Or if you ever had to hide any social media to get a job, or if your social media cost you a job, or if you're significantly less productive when you have a phone on you, or...you get the picture.  At my job I'm partially responsible for hiring, and it is second nature to go online and research a Facebook profile before hiring someone.  So unless their profiles or whatever are specifically tailored to say "I'm the one for you", which they almost...no, I'll say never are, then it can only hurt you depending on who's looking at it.  Thankfully, in my case, I'd rather hire fun people who know how to work and have fun, and it's worked out most of the time.  But then you have the sticklers who see a drink in your hand and throw out your resume.  There is the lack of ability to not judge a book by its cover, but its hard when there's so much on said cover to not form some sort of an idea.

Lets use myself as an example.  Based on what I post on my Facebook, one would think I'm a drunken fool with a twisted sense of humor.  My Instagram and Twitter get used rarely and randomly for dumb things so it's really not a fair assessment.  However, based off my old Tinder profile when I was single, I was a gentleman, funny, completely and utterly sexy (this was most true to form, obviously), but I don't think employers check Tinder.  Hell, if you read my blog or most of my writing you might think I'm insane, a huge asshole, or a genius.  In all honesty I don't give a shit what people think of me, and if they want to pass me by on a job because of my online presence then their missing out, but it does happen; and very often.

Can you blame employers though?  Since a lot of people are lazy, unproductive shits looking for handouts these days, business owners are looking for every possible avenue to see who exactly they're hiring.  Yet again, a lot of people are anything but honest when it comes to their social media accounts, so is checking on them in that way productive or counter-productive? Either way it's now part of the job process and probably will be forever.  Especially since it's illegal to give a bad reference of a former employee, you really can't even get an accurate telling of their past work experience from former employers.  We've let people go for stealing, never showing up, any plethora of things that you cannot and should not do on a job, yet when their new potential employer calls to see what they were like we have to sugar coat their shitty work ethic, and that's not right, but that's how it is.  There are little ways around it though, and here's an example:

New Employer: "Hi this is Bossman calling to check a reference on Lazy McTimethief."

Me: "Oh.  Yeah, he worked here."

New Employer: "How was he while working for you?"

Me: "Well, he worked here for three months."

New Employer: "Gothca, thank you, have a good one."

See? Nothing bad said, in fact nothing was really said at all.  The lack of positive things said now has to be the unspoken way of saying "Good luck with that one."  In fact, the more I think about it, I've gotten a lot less reference calls since social media exploded.  Good thing?  Bad thing?  Guess it differs from person to person.  Now onto the coup de gras...

PHONES ARE RUINING MOTOR SKILLS

Yeah, phones are even causing us to devolve into mush piles with limbs.  You know when you're talking to someone and they look at their phone and completely miss everything you said.  Then they look up with that brain dead stare as they try and recall any key words that they might have heard so that they can give you some semblance of a response, but only end up letting out a strained "...huh...".  I detest that.  Like flies to a bug zapper, the brain shuts off and the shiny thing encompasses all.  I'm going to come up with an app that zaps the shit out of you if it detects someone talking and your phone goes on, then I'll secretly install it on everyone's phone I know and watch the hilarity.  Seriously though, when people do that to me and look up its like the lights are on and no ones home, and I wait for the string of drool to fall out of their mouth and just hang there and laugh at me for trying to communicate like a human.  

Then there's the "walkers".  No not the ones from The Walking Dead, but close.  These are the ones who put on their headphones and stare at their phones and go on walks without any of their senses tuned in to what the hell is going on around them.  They're the morons who you see video's of on YouTube (most likely while your at work being unproductive) walking into walls, falling into fountains, crossing the street without realizing it and getting drilled by a car... yeah those dingle berries.  How can it be OK in the heads of these people to venture out into the world and not pay attention to it.  Would you wear a blindfold and ear plugs and do anything?  What if they looked like a cell phone and ear buds, oh that's OK then, right? NO DAMN IT, STAHHHHP.  

On that note, my brain hurts and my fingers are tired from navigating this huge keyboard instead of gliding across my big beautiful Galaxy S6 Edge (can someone pick up that name I just dropped).  I joke a lot above but it really is a problem, at least to me.  People suck enough as it is without phones, and now they just suck even more.  But again, I myself am no angel, I'm guilty of most of these things as well (except the movie thing, there's a special place in hell for those people), but I admit it; and that's the first step when you have a problem you want to solve: admitting you have one.  As for the other 11 steps I haven't figured them out yet, but I'll let you know when I do.  Until then folks, enjoy your interneting and your cell phoning and social media-ing, and I shall do the same.  But just do me one favor: please look when you cross the fucking street, that should have been, like, one of the first things you learned as a kid.  That and don't touch the stove and don't accept candy from strangers unless its a Milky Way...because Milky Ways are awesome.

The Climb

He climbs the mountain every day, yet every day the mountain changes.  He tries to start each climb anew, but often pains lingering from the prior days trek still weigh heavy on his body, on his mind. The mountain he ascends is magical and cursed; sometimes he can feel the demons stirring beneath his feet as he pushes forward and up, toward the top, to the end of his climb, trying, not always succeeding, to not fall backward or let the dark things lurking beneath grab hold of him and anchor him in place.  On those days, when the demons bony black fingers reach up through the cracks in the rocks and wrap themselves around his legs, digging their nails into his bones, he begins a struggle, both physical and mental, to break free from their burning grasp.  Most times he is able to break free with as little as a swift kick; some times the fingers turn into hands, then into arms, and the nothing in the cracks they protrude from ensnares him.  It's those days that he feels as if the weight of the world is holding him down, aiding the evil extremities in their plight to claim him as one of their own, to pull him through the cracks, into the darkness he tries so hard to avoid.  Luckily he's always survived; even on the worst days, when he felt the fingers tightening around his throat, vision fading, about to let the darkness have him, he always pulled a fire out from within him, burned away the claws and continued on his journey.

He's aware of how easy it is to lose track of the path upward, to miss checkpoints he thought he'd reach with no problem because a path looked easier in a fleeting moment of exhaustion.  Some days it takes every bit of strength not to set up camp for good, to settle out of convenience; the land may be flat (at the moment) and the food may be plentiful (for now), but then he looks up again, into the vast expanses of the mountain, still unable to see the top, knowing that its there and that it's glorious. Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy, nothing settled for ever sticks, and giving up was never an option; its his mantra, and it fuels him through those times of doubt that the top is too far, that the best isn't worth it, that he doesn't deserve the Eden that surely rests at the top for all the stumbles, near misses and breaks he took from his expedition. "Is there even an Eden?" he would ask himself sometimes.  There must be because what would be the point of the climb and all its adversity.

He made a conscious decision to make this climb alone early on.  He found that almost any problem encountered was complicated by companions, be they family, friends or lovers.  There were a handful of time's he would let other travelers join paths with him to aid each other on their journeys.  Some for brief moments, even fewer for extended periods, but inevitably they parted ways for one reason or another.  There were those who's own paths dominated his to the point where he didn't recognize the mountain anymore, others drained his energy and patience enough where the only way out was to let the darkness take hold just long enough to push them away, and still even others were simply not as prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead, so he left them in the night.  It's all he knew, it was how he learned to adapt from a young age, that those who should be there to hold down the tent when the winds picked up at night almost never were, and those that were would steal your rations until they had their fill, then disappear.  Although it happened more often then not, he always preferred some company now and again, so he would take on those willing until history repeated itself; until he found the one.

The one had been travelling a somewhat parallel road to his on the mountain, their paths have even crossed from time to time, but like two ships passing in the night, there was only a brief acknowledgment before continuing onward, both absorbed by the harrowing tasks they had at hand. He always wondered, but the opportunity never presented itself, if the one would be a good companion.  Then one night amidst a particularly foggy sky the two once again crossed paths.  At first he was bewildered, but riding a wave of confidence he began to inquire more than he had at previous meetings. Questions led to conversation, conversation to laughs, and eventually to a unity...alas another companion; THE companion he had been waiting for, the one.

Almost instantly the journey became more bearable.  Hardships were lessened, certain goals became clearer while other less daunting and unimportant ones seemed to vanish from the course all together. Together they tackled obstacles from the minor to the path altering; and no matter the size they seemed to overcome them all.  They were not without their troubles, though who is?  Especially with the terrain that they walked on, but onward they traveled, each tribulation reinforcing the strength of their companionship.  For the first time he could visualize the top, almost see it peeking through the clouds, breaking through the dust, as welcoming and as glorious as he imagined; even more so.  The path ahead, although rocky in places, was manageable in the least, and the sun seemed that much brighter, felt that much warmer on his face.  He looked up, then at his companion, grabbed her hand, and together they walked forward, upward, toward the inevitable end, heads held high, constantly looking for the top of the world.

MY MINI VAN IS SEXY

Soooooooo I'm pissed.  My brand new 2014 Jeep Cherokee is in the shop....again.  After almost killing me last night as I drove home on the highway by having the power steering start to fail and every light on the fucking dashboard light up like the Fourth of July, except the only explosion was the stream of profanities that flew from my face.  I think I gave the driver of the car in front of me PTSD.

Anyway, after getting my BRAND NEW 2014 JEEP CHEROKEE into the shop A-FUCKING-GAIN I needed to worry about transportation since the dealer didn't have a loaner car, because why would a place that sells and fixes cars have an extra one or two laying around; this isn't Logic Land where everything makes sense and everyone's NOT an asshole.  However, in their defense it may be because Jeep has been pumping out so many fucking lemons lately that they simply have all their cars out on the road.  For example my sister got a BRAND NEW 2015 JEEP CHEROKEE and already had her transmission replaced.

Don't get me wrong, I have a love for all things Jeep (except that ugly ass Compass...eeww) but come the fuck on with this shit.  It's a new vehicle, they're involved with Porsche now (look it up) and part of a huge auto club of big names (Chrysler and Dodge, heard of em?) as well as produced off road vehicles for the military.  Now when it comes to a car that's supposed to get my ass from point A to point B they can't cope with the trials and tribulations of not getting me killed because the electrical system decided to shit the bed on me?  It's bad enough I drive like Jeff Gordon with diarrhea cramps on the way home from anywhere but now I gotta worry about my car deciding to have a hissy fit now?  Jeep...I'm not mad.  I'm disappointed.  Go to bed without supper.  And get your shit together.

Now to the title of this post.  Since I am without a vehicle, my work has bestowed upon me the honor of using the mini van as my own until my Jeep is off suicide watch.  So in order to honor my mini van, and relieve some aggression from my BRAND NEW BROKEN JEEP I'm gonna tell you all how amazing it is.

First off its amazing because its reliable.  Its got 120,000 miles on it and I don't think the power steering tried to kill anyone in a single one of those miles.  It can go 0-60 in 12.5 seconds and gets 20 miles to the gallon.  Cougars love me as it is, but just thinking of all the soccer mom-age that can be going on in that van that could never go on in my Jeep.  Hey ladies in your mom jeans, wanna live on the edge, let me turn off the passenger air bag and drive in the passing lane for a bit; speed limit, we passed that 10 MPH ago baby.  Ooooohhhh yeah.  When you get all hot and bothered we'll have plenty of room to "stretch" since the seats have been removed for optimal tool and material storage.  And, oh, don't worry there's already plenty of stains on the rug, so no one will notice a few more...Before I turn this into a creepy craigslist personal ad I'll stop.

But for real, what the fuck.  Get your shit together Jeep or I'm gonna go buy something Japanese and drive it until the wheels fall off, which I've heard almost never happens.

Still Here

Hey everyone.  I didn't forget about the blog, again.  I'm still playing catch up from vacation and have been exhausted, but FEAR NOT, for I am back in the mix.  There is sooooo much to tell about the week we had out west and I wish I could do it in such a way that you could experience everything as we did.  My limited space on this site wont even allow me to post the video slide show I made, but since its free I can't really complain.  So here I sit, eating some horrid tasting frozen dinner, replaying the trip in my head trying to think of the special things that stuck out.

Well for starters we spent a grand total of 79 hours in the car, traveling almost 5,000 miles and passing through about 10 states.  Spent $650 on gas between 2 people and killed about a million-million and a half bugs with the front end of my car.  And some of those bastards were big; every once in a while it was like my windshield was shot with a paintball gun.  These things would explode into all sorts of colors and pieces would trail up the windshield until they flew off the car.  My car packed on about 10 pounds of insect guts over the trip. Enough about bugs, lets get to the fun stuff.

DAY 1
Other than the quick entry I did on my tablet prior to this one Day 1 was full of driving, getting gas, sleeping for twenty minute intervals, more driving, eating greasy shit food, using disgusting rat infested bathrooms, coffee, and we listened to the Howard Stern show for most of the trip because laughing our asses off helped keep us awake driving through about a thousand miles of straight roads and fields, and fields, and fucking fields.  Once we got past Chicago and the Amish flash mob, that's what we go to look at until we crossed into Colorado.

Colorado is two hours behind us here in New York, and we pulled into Denver at 11:30 Mountain time (1:30 Eastern time for any one too lazy to do math).  We had driven the first length straight and we left at 5:00 Friday night and arriving 11:30 Saturday night, all math included we drove for about 32 hours.  So we looked and felt like shit.  We pull into the hotel that we called ahead and reserved when we got to the end of Nebraska and first thing I see is some skinny little shit in khaki shorts and a windbreaker screaming at the desk lady because he wanted to park in front and a car took up 2 spaces and he paid and blah blah blah.  He was gonna call the cops, because that's what cops want to deal with; some screaming entitled little whiny shit who's mad he had to park behind the hotel instead of in front.  Fuck that guy.  The woman said she'll take care of it and he stomped out into the parking lot, in the words of Rose Dewitt Bukater from Titanic, "wait for an absolution that would never come."  Because that clerk looked at me, I said "Asshole", she laughed and checked me in with a smile.  We parked our car and walked our bags in from the back of the hotel, where there were plenty of spaces, past the whiney bitchy creep kid still standing with his arms folded near the car parked in two spots.  I hope he found some justice...or got his ass kicked by someone.

We were both shot from the drive and not sleeping, so of course we changed and found the nearest bar and walked there.  It was the first of many breweries we would experience that week.  Being on no sleep and at such a high elevation we didn't figure that the two beers and two shots we would have would fuck us up so quick...but it did.  We ended up making our way back to the hotel after about an hour at the bar of talking to people and finding out what to do in Denver.  We got some good tips and places to check out and slept like fucking rocks.  The adventure was taking some serious form, and it finally hit us we were in Colorado!

   Just crossed the border into Colorado and filled up.  Notice the bugs the size of bats.

Captains Blog. Stardate VAYCAY 1

There's something about driving through Ohio at 4am blasting "Back Dat Ass Up" fueled by caffeine and a desperate urge too pee that makes me feel like we're finally on vacation.   Not only are we a far west as we've ever been but I just had the weirdest experience at a truck stop, and no it didn't involve a glory hole.

I was taking my much anticipated leak when an Amish man comes in to piss as well, decked out in his straw hat, blue shirt and brown vest and pants, sporting a beard and looking like he was ready to start a day in the life an Amish, whatever that met be.  The wired part was by the time I was done with my leak every bathroom stall and urinal was filled with  Amish people and Amish dudes waiting to use the bathroom.  This is a truck stop bathroom so there's probably thirty stations to relieve yourself and is huge but all of the sudden I found myself in the middle of an Amish rave at ten after four in the morning at a pit stop off I80.  Then I walked out and all their wives and daughters were walking around the rest stop looking like lost sheep.  Oh and they all smelled weird, can't really put my finger on what life though.

Then we walked back out to the car and couldn't figure out where the hell they came from.  No buggys, no farms in site. It was life the children of the corn, they just walked in off the fields and we probably escaped with our lives.

OK that's all for now, typing on my tablet is annoying so I might wait until I get to a computer.   On with the quest!

VACATION...Like The Movie, But For Real!

This is it, today is the day my good friend and I embark on a journey into the semi-unknown.  I'm so goddamn excited, except I feel like I'm coming down with something so I've been eating Airborne tablets at about 5 times the recommended dose per day.  I think I'm either keeping it at bay or have somehow managed to get high off Vitamin C; whatever the case, in a few hours I'm getting in my Jeep with my buddy Gary and hitting the road for the next day or so.

Again we have no plans, just a time frame of when we gotta be back to resume the rat race, and we think this is the best way to do it.  If anyone reading this knows one or both of us, people tend to take a liking to us.  I don't know why, maybe it's our personalities, maybe we come off as ultra sexy, maybe its our "fuck it, lets do it" attitude, but one thing is for sure, we have a penchant for meeting people and getting into things and every time we do something its ALWAYS and adventure.  We also tend to attract a lot of weird or borderline insane people, so we agreed if we hear banjos in the woods at any point in our trip we are high tailing it the fuck out of wherever we are.  That being said, any post on here within the next week (if I can get to a computer, if not no worries I'm bringing a journal so I don't forget anything and you all will get a full debriefing upon return) will be details of our grand adventure.

When I think about this trip I think about one of my favorite movie franchises of all time, the National Lampoons Vacation series.  I laughed my ass off watching and re-watching every single movie (admittedly not so much Vegas Vacation) and I fancy myself an amateur Clark Griswald, in fact this is going to be my mantra for the trip:

Barring any Marty Moose type bullshit or dying aunts (and I would totally strap her ass to the roof) this trip is indeed A QUEST FOR FUN.  I need this vacation more now than ever with the things going on in my life at the moment and even if its a semi-disaster like all their vacations were in the movies, it'll still be awesome.  Going on this trip with a cant lose attitude is only assuring that the quest will be successful.

I'm still trying to pack and finish up at work so I have to cut this short.  But I will leave you with a quote from the ultimate road trip movie, a quote I feel hits home and stresses the point of both morality of the human spirit, and a will to make the most out of any situation.  Enjoy, and talk to you peeps soon.

A Jeep, A Beard, and An Idea

One of the big issues (that I'm willing to discuss on here) this year for me was my car accident. I was driving to work on Valentines Day during a blizzard when Mother Nature, the dried up old bag that she is, decided to give me my present.  With the unwavering help of one of the competent state workers, she dumped about 100 pounds of slush off an overpass onto the parkway in which I was traveling, on a turn, 20 feet in front of me, with a car passing me on the left.  The lack of friction on the road allowed my tiny little Civic to fulfill its life long dream of being in Circ de Sole (spelling?) despite my best efforts for it not to.  Using the slush as a launching pad I was sent flying into the median then back across the parkway as my car attempted to do a cartwheel in mid air.  Thankfully the exit sign caught my trunk and stopped me from flipping off the highway into the woods; instead it threw the car back down into the road on its front end before tilting back and landing on its wheels, finally coming to its graceful stop facing oncoming traffic in a two lane parkway.  After a few minutes of fielding questions from my audience of teary eyed witnesses who thought I was going to die in front of them, I scooped up the biggest pieces of my car, threw them in my trunk (which was conveniently thrown open for me) and actually managed to get my car off the parkway and two more blocks to work before it died on me.  Yes, I was two blocks away on a 40 minute commute.

Long story short I got it fixed but the insurance screwed me and even though they said "she was good as new" I think "she drives like she's got Parkinson's Disease" was more accurate.  But perfect excuse to get a new car.  In comes my new Jeep Cherokee.  I love this car like I had birthed it myself.  It's my first new car and although I'm paying out the ass for it, it's gonna get me through any more bullshit Mother Nature has up her sleeve, and more importantly it's gonna get me to Colorado.

The title of this post is a little misleading, and for this I apologize.  It leads you, the reader, and if you are seeing impaired or illiterate than you, the listener, to believe that there were in fact three main points to this post; being a beard, Jeep, and an idea.  Well the fact is there is only two, and aside from my Jeep story the other part is that I had an idea to grow a beard hence the two being one in the same.  Now that that has been cleared up, I got this idea because about a month ago because I was feeling particularly crappy about a situation and had a case of the fuck-its when shaving came up   Also about one third of my face missed the puberty memo so a five o'clock shadow takes about a four days to form and has more gaps than a hillbilly's smile.  But when the fuck-its are involved, you aren't really thinking that you look like a homeless man-child, and when anyone asked me I just responded with "I'm trying to grow a beard."  Truth is I was trying just to not do much of anything.

One thing lead to another and when I finally felt like the itching was too much, even for the fuck-its, I went to shave and actually looked in the mirror for more than two seconds.  To my amazement my facial hair was getting long enough that it actually covered my patches and I went from looking like a homeless man-child to just a run of the mill homeless man!  I was quite impressed with my faces ability to overcome its own shortcomings by sheer will; it was like each individual hair knew what direction to grow in in order get some real teamwork going on.  YAY TEAM!  So my shave session turned into a trim session where I got rid of all those rebel hairs that were too cool to get with the program.  It was something I had never done before, I felt very manly and I wanted to make sure you all knew about it; and now you do.

Thus the idea to continue to grow my beard was born and I know you're all glad you read this and are rooting for me to grow the best beard in the goddamn world, and I will.  If all the things I learned from somewhere are correct then manly things will help my beard be even better, and what better way to man it up then by going on a road trip with a tent and no plans other than to not die.  By the time I get back I might be donating beard hair to cloth orphans in Brazil.  Damn I'm pumped for this shit.  OK that's it for now, I'm gonna go eat a rare steak and and hold open a door for some ladies BECAUSE REAL MEN KNOW CHIVALRY AND SHIT.  I can feel my face tingling already, chivalry is like miracle grow for beards.  You hear that fellas?