Treats Today, No Tricks.

You know what? Today really was a better day. I don't know why but it was. And that was nice. I still feel crappy, but not so much. And it rained, but it had pretty much stopped by the time I got to class. So it was not a bad day at all.

I hate it when I take a nap and when I wake up I'm kinda sweaty. That's gross. But my nap was super nice. Napping when you're under the weather is always good.

I bought a big bag of honey lemon cough drops on Saturday. I eat them like candy. People tell me that that's weird. I don't mind because there are weirder people than I am on earth. At least I'm not a murderer. But I'm gad I bought them because I got sick all of the sudden. It's weird how stuff like that happens.

It is Halloween today. I didn't get my hopes up because I knew that if I did, they would come crashing down. But tonight I'm going out to eat with a couple of friends. Nothing big at all. Which should be fun.

Thank goodness for little blessings.

Trying to Look at the Glass Half-Full.

I feel crappy.

I blame it on the weather.

Because the weather sucks lately.

I am sleepy.

Today is not that great.

But that's okay.

Because tomorrow could be better.

Life is Beautiful and Sad.

I live my life sin remordimiento. Without regrets. Everything that has happened matters. And everything is what it is.

But that does not mean that I should not change things about myself.

I want to be a truly kind person. I do not want to be super judgemental. I do not want to curse like a sailor. I want to be honest all the time.

Because life happens too fast for eveyone I become acquainted with to think that I'm a dirtbag.

I hung out with a guy tonight. He and I have met before. We have some mutual friends. At the end of the night, he said "It was good seeing you guys again. Have a good night." Which are just some everyday words that everyone throws around. But the way he said it let me know that he really meant it. He was being completely genuine.

I want to be that way.

I'm a Little Crazy.

I couldn't handle not knowing so I looked it up. The biggest box Crayola makes is a 120-count box.

So I didn't make that up after all.



Sadly, the fact that I looked it up does nothing to prove my sanity.

I Can't Think of a Witty Title for this Blog.

I have a new nephew. He is called Evan Paul and I have decided that I will call him EP because that'd cool. Like an Extended Play Compact Disc. I want him to like rock and roll. I will be proud of him if he does.

He is my seventh nephew and the sixteenth of mis sobrinos so this is really nothing new for me. I have been an uncle for over ten years, since I was a second grader. They're like my siblings more than sobrinos.

I colored a magnificent drawing with crayons last night. It was very fun. I've always wanted the box of 64 crayons, but my mom never bought it for me. I always wanted the sharpener that comes in the back of the 64 box. But I never got it. I think that I will go and buy a 128 box to be really rebellious one of these days. Do they still make the 128 box? Did they ever even make the 128 box? I think I remember that but I sometimes make things up in my brain. But that's kind of ridiculous if they do.

Remember when the color "Macaroni and Cheese" first came out? I do. Elementary School was a lot of fun.

College is much, much better.

I Sound Like I'm 67.

I know that I've already posted today, but this will make up for missing a day earlier this week.

This was on PostSecret a couple months ago.

Although life is beautiful, I really do miss the old days.

Why, Yes, I am Quite the Rhetorician.

My friend Allie asked me to post my speeches on here. So here you go.

Invective

I really hate cats. I don’t see any reason for their existence. All they do is crap in a box (which you keep in your house) or tear your furniture up. You can’t really engage them like you can a dog because of their overwhelming lethargy and apathy. Toss a ball to them and they look at you like you’re an asshole; talk to them and they look at you like you’re an asshole; pick them up and they do that cat scream and then after you put them down they look at you like you’re an asshole. Why would I feed and shelter an animal that thought that it were more superior than I when said creature isn’t even capable of flushing?

I think that the reasons I have these negative feelings for the feline family are purely genetic. Recently, when an unwelcome black cat started lurking about my grandma’s hydrangeas in our yard, she asked the family if we knew how she could cheaply acquire a BB gun. “I don’t want to kill it,” she said, “I just want to hurt it enough so it won’t come back.” When a neighborhood cat started crapping in my sister’s flowerbed, my dad suggested putting a saucer of antifreeze on the front porch. “And then you can sure as hell guarantee you won’t have that problem again,” he said. When I was young, some cousins of mine scooped up the neighbor’s small Siamese and shoved her in the mailbox. When I asked why one replied, “Because cats are stupid. And hopefully she’ll attack the mailman.” Hating cats is just in my genes.

Now I by no means condone feeding car fluid to unsuspecting kittens or attempting to attack your mail carrier by squashing a feline into the mailbox, because that’s just inhumane. Plus with the whole “antifreeze idea” you’d eventually have to dispose of a dead animal; and that’s just something none of us want to deal with. But I think Red Foreman from That 70s Show said it best: “Best-case scenario: you get the smartest cat there is. He still craps in your house.”



Encomium

In trying to pick a topic for this speech I wanted to praise something that has never let me down; something that I love; something that makes me really happy. So obviously, I’ve decided to talk about the Oreo cookie. For as long as I can remember, these dichromatic chunks of heaven have had a place in the pantry and my heart. I have many fond memories in which Oreos almost always play a part.

The Oreo is one of my favorite things because of its flawless time-tested construction. The cookies gently hug the cloud-like cream, juxtaposing one another, creating balance without compromising their value. Because of this duality, one can choose several ways of partaking of America’s favorite cookie.

We’ve all see the commercials where the cookie is twisted in halves, the cream eaten, and then the cookie soaked in milk to make a moist delight. Or perhaps you can be less adventurous and simply dunk the whole cookie in the milk. Or my personal favorite technique is to take a fork and stick it in the cream and then dunk the fork into a glass of milk. This ensures that the entire cookie gets wet but your fingers stay dry. Or if you’re feeling extremely daring, you can enjoy the cookie with peanut butter, which creates drama in the already-exciting treat.

The beauty of the Oreo is that it can be personalized. Just as we all have our own methods and habits in life, the Oreo can be eaten in our own ways. It is versatile enough to bend to us. But when all the chips are down, the Oreo is the same as it was when we were children. So whichever technique you employ to consume this culinary classic, remember that Oreos are the things of which memories are made. And memories are really quite delicious.

They're Really Important Issues, You Guys.

Internet is like Cap'n Crunch in this house: sometimes it's there and sometimes it's not. And lately it's been more not. So that's why there was no post yesterday.

Anyway, for Speech class I have to write these invective and encomium speeches; an invective speech is basically a rant about something or someone that one really doesn't like and an encomium speech is a praise of something or someone that one really likes.

I have been really looking forward to this assignment since the beginning of the semester because if there's one thing I do well, it's ranting about some stupid crap. But I couldn't ever really decide on a topic for either of them. I sort of wanted to find some topics that had some deep-seeded issue behind them. But I couldn't ever decide.

So I talked to Kelly about it. Then I called Bailey. Then I called Dina. Then I called Matt. Then I called Reed. Then I talked to Wade.

So I have finally decided to do my invective (the negative one) on cats and the encomium on Oreos.

Yes, very deeply-seeded, I know. I'll probably be winning the Nobel Peace Prize, so you should all look for that in the news.

At least I could Have Bought a 256 oz. Jar of Pickles.

Tonight was hell.

I realized my tire was ultra flat because there was a HUGE nail in it. So we took it to Sam's to replace it. And for some reason there were only two guys working in the tire place. And one of the guys was new and he couldn't even put tires on. So I was at Sam's for three hours. And my dad came to pick my mom up and the went and got a steak. But I was stuck in the world of metal and concrete.

Thankfully, however, I had an orange Icee.




Damn, that was a good Icee.

Another Dream Blog, but More of a Scientific Angle.

I saw The Science of Sleep last night with Grant (who is my honorary little brother). It was so good. It's a French film (originally called La Science des Rêves) and they spoke French, English, and a little bit of Spanish. My three favorites. But they speak mostly English, so you don't have to read much of it. So that was good.

Anyway, it was fun, the film was. And really, really great. And it just felt good to watch it. I really liked it a whole bunch. It sort of reminded me of my life. I don't know why, but it did. It was just a wonderful film. You should go see it.

As a side note, last night I dreamt that I rented some movies with my cousin Blake...but somehow we went to the hockey arena instead...and I was really late for curfew...like five hours or so. And then I was with my mom back at my elementary school and we went and saw my kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Mitchell. And then suddenly Grace was there and we went to play kick ball with other kids our age on the playground. Then with the kids we were with, it was more like an EFY somehow. And there was this kid there who went to high school with a lot of my friends (I've only met him once or twice, but I see him on campus like everyday) and he was there, only he was having some sexuality issues...like, he wasn't sure if he were gay or not. And there was this other guy who was gay who was talking to that kid about homosexuality in my family's formal living room in my old house (how we got there, I don't know). And I asked them to go sit in the kitchen instead because my mom would freak out because they were so dirty from playing kick ball. And the gay one freaked out at me saying that I was nothing but a jerk from the beginning because I was bragging about taking Chemistry II (which I've never ever heard of). And then I said sorry and that I wasn't mad and then we hugged. And that's when I woke up.

I think my mind doesn't let me remember most of my dreams on purpose, because that crap is weird.