Wedding 101

Paula and I are getting our engagement pictures taken sometime this week. I have mixed feelings about that, mostly because I'm not looking how I'd like to and this picture is sent to (literally) hundreds of households across the US and Canada. To be totally honest, it's a bit disconserting. My face and waist have amassed girth over the last couple months.
And basically, this is it. There will be people who will judge everything that I am by this picture: Relatives will judge if I'm family material; Paula's female friends will judge if I'm good enough looking for her; her guy friends - most of which have crushed on her at one point or another - will wonder 'Who's this goon?'; family friends will smile in approval or cringe in disbelief. All from this picture.
I've noticed some stuff about this wedding planning.
No one really cares about the guy. Seriously. Case(s) in point:
When the engaged female is seen for the first time after the engagement, everyone was like 'Let me see your ring' and there was squealing and hugging and more squealing. Meanwhile, the guy's just chillin' and as an afterthought, he's introduced. maybe.
When planning the wedding, the guy is asked for his opinionm but only rhetorically because if he doesn't like it, it's not his day.
The gifts registered for are 99.9% hers. They try to make the guy feel like a man by being able to pull the trigger of the radar 'gun' and 'shoot' the UPC code.
This isn't a sob thing. Frankly, the guy doesn't even care about the guy. He bought the ring, he'll shell out some cash for honeymoon, write a couple other checks and his job is done. I know when my opinion is asked for it is out of courtesy more than anything else.
And I'm fine with that. (sometimes for fun I'll voice a fake opinion and watch mayhem ensue)
Just show up at the appointed place, on the appointed day at the appointed time.
With the ring. Clean shaven. Without a baseball hat.
That's why I think a gay marriage would be impossible to plan. I think it's morally wrong, but just from a logistical standpoint, can you imagine the conflicts in the planning? Two people with actual opinions about color schemes, flowers, invitation styles, and dancing? The only reason a wedding can be planned in under 10 years or without it being called off is because one person does it and the other person nods their heads.

Remembering "I'm Angry"

"So here I go again on my own"....that song just came to me. I can't remember who it's by. I want to say White Snake. But I'm not convinced.
When I was in college my roommates and I made a cd. It pretty much rocked. We all called it different things; I called it "I'm angry", my brother called it "Girls are Gay" and I don't remember what Arch and Zach called theirs. The lead-off track was the Adam Sandler's little bit from "The Wedding Singer" when he sings that song for Drew Barrymore about his ex, Lisa? Anyway it had some other sweet tracks: "Down with the Sickness" "1 step closer" "Crawling" "She Hates Me" and some more songs (Metalica, AC/DC, Rage) that aren't coming to me right now.
It was basically a flippin' sweet (N.D. shout out) cd and we'd listen to it whenever we went snowboarding or just got the shaft from some xy. But now it's gone. I don't know what happened to it. I tried to make a replacement but it just didn't have the flippin' sweetness to it the original had. I miss it sometimes, like when my BYU Cougars lose; when traffic in the ATL is, never mind, it always is awful; when I lose in the Turkey Bowl over Thanksgiving. Those times.
So, in tribute to that CD I'm posting the lyrics - edited - to that angry Adam Sandler song. Enjoy.

Spoken: Ok, I just want to warn you that when I wrote this song I was listening to the Cure a lot.

Sung: You don't know how much I need you.

While you're around I don't feel blue.

And when we kiss I know that you need me too.

I can't believe I found a love that's so pure and true.

But it all was bologne

It was a goshdarn joke.

And when I think of you and I,

I hope you really choke.

I hope you're glad with what you've done to me.

I lay in bed all day long feeling melancholy.

You left me here all alone, tears running constantly.

Oh somebody kill me please,

somebody kill me plee-ase,

I'm on my knees, pretty pretty please kill me.

I want to die. Put a bullet in my head.

Funny Videos

These are some funny videos courtesy of a little place called Google.com Hope you get a kick of them.

Injured, injured bad
Fresh fish!
Cuz he's TNT...

Birthday

It was my birthday about a week ago. The big 26, not that that denotes 'big' as an adjective, but...anyway, it was good. I've never been much of a birthday celebrater. I don't think it has anything to do with the proximity of my birthday to Christmas, but rather where my birthday fell in regards to finals week at college. Every year at school there wasn't a whole lot of time to acknowledge the day of my birth and create a bunch of hoopla about it. People - not me by any means because if people were as involved with finals as I was there would have been plenty of time for celebration - were so consumed with finals, getting home for the holidays and the college bowl season that there was a little room for more than a happy birthday.
So, like Pavlov's dog I have become conditioned to minimal birthday acknowledgements. The fact I'm in the real world - not that the other one was fake - and have a significant other, I am having to get accustomed to celebrations and being asked what I want to do. I think Paula got frustrated more than once with my lack of input (What do you want to do? Uh, I don't know) but it turned out all good. We went to this Italian place called Maggiano's and it was great. I had this fish that just melted in your mouth - un-freakin-believable! Got some sweet gifts (wallet, cufflinks, the complete 5th season of Seinfeld, power drill), had a great time and it pretty much just rocked.

She's pretty fly!

This is the future Mrs. and I. Thank goodness she's better looking than I am!

The first day

I'm not really sure why I am doing this for sure. I believe it is a combination of things I like: Seinfeld, writing, computers. Put that all together and you have a blog: A website about nothing.
I've just moved to Georgia from, well, Wyoming. That's where I spent my youth and where my folks still live. I haven't lived there since 1998 when I graduated from high school. I've just recently moved to Atlanta and that's the necessary background for where today's blog is coming from.
Tomorrow my license expires. As is my custom I waited till the absolutely last moment to go one of the most dreaded places known to man - the DMV. There was this one lady just pitchin' a fit that people who got a number after her were getting in one of the 10 lines before her number was being called. The woman was a shrew; that is my assessment. As if the lady in front can escort her to the front of the line and say "Here, ma'am, why don't you just be the exception in years of a low and painful experiences."
Well, my number - F667 - was finally called and I went to counter 18. It was fairly pain free until I was told the my license is SUSPENDED! Yeah, that's right - evidently I've been a fugitive from the law for the past nine months. Valley City, North Dakota. North Dakota! I remember the ticket well; what I don't remember is not paying for it. A cold December morning, Christmas Eve day driving home I get pulled over and cited a $25 speeding ticket. That's the thing that's crazy, that's ironic - I would have paid a $25 ticket and not fought it, which is probably why I forgot to pay it. It's worth speeding for that price. If it had been like the $225 two-in-one combo I got as a sophomore in high school for speeding and passing in a no-passing zone, it'd of left an indelible imprint on my mind and wallet. But this got lost in the shuffle of life and now it's gonna cost me $25 to the good people of Valley City, $50 to my peep's in WYO, and the 37 cents to a postal service I haven't used in a year.
So after loggin 20,000 miles, driving from Frannie WY to Sac-town CA, back to the last frontier (WY) and onto Atlanta with stops in Minnesota, Nashville and Augusta, I find out my license isn't worth the plastic it's on. The irony of it all is I'll get pulled over on my way to work tomorrow.